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a-lil-perspective · 3 years

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Nepenthe

Your chest fills with a soft gasp. You uncurl your sleep-infused joints, shifting on your back within the bed. Full, tranquil breaths usher you along. You flicker your gaze over to the chrono. Your lashes bat away a lingering bleariness as you acclimate to your obsidian-colored surroundings. You become acutely aware of a calloused hand nestled in your hairline, a thumb now smoothing away the furrow manifested between your brows.

In the pitch black, you feel his eyes cast heavily over you.

“Can’t sleep?” Your voice is still weak with slumber. You reach out a drowsy hand, intuitively finding his jawline and cradling it. There’s a pause, and then you feel his features rearrange with a smirk underneath your fingertips.

“Distracted by something beautiful is more like it.”

“At this hour?” You hum. “Must be a real work of art.”

“Mhm,” his hand slides down from your hair, tapping your nose on the way before ghosting over your now slightly part lips. “You certainly are.”

Something like a giggle escapes you, and you drape the back of your free hand across your face to hide the silly blush he can’t even see in the shadows inking the midnight room. His warm breaths grow closer, peppering across your skin. You gather yourself, hollowing your cheeks. “Well don’t stay awake on my account. You should rest.”

“Trust me...” his knuckles stroke along your cheekbone with a tenderness that nearly makes your heart give out. “It’s a good reason to be awake.”

“But not the only reason.” You scale his words footnoted by affection, bypassing directly to the underlying meaning while he proceeds to mouth your neck in lieu of an explanation.

“You had a nightmare,” you whisper after a moment, stifling a shiver and gliding your fingers through his hair unbound from its usual crimson accessory.

He shakes his head, forcing a reassuring smile. “They don’t visit me when I’m with you.”

“Lies,” you accuse gently, eyes softening as you unravel his plight. Your hand wanders from his jaw to the nape of his neck, in which you collect your evidence in the form of a cold and clingy sheen of sweat that’s clearly been settled for some time. You listen to his deep, burdened inhale that manifests from your discovery. If you squint hard enough you can make out his broad chest swelling with the intake. You mentally count the seconds his breath is held in stasis, and the heady silence that flanks. Four. And then his exhale billows heavily and he’s pressing his forehead to yours in defeat.

Your heart aches for him. You part the dark curtain of hair spilling over the both of you and imprint a sweet kiss to the corner of his lip. “It’s alright, Hunter; I’m here.”

He makes a pained sound against you.

“Was it the boys?”

His silence speaks for itself, waxing the anguish.

“Wake me next time.” It’s a useless plea, you know. You can never remove a soldier from the battlefield, nor stop the tape of death that rolls infinitely behind his closed lids.

From his glued position, he manages a fervent shake of his head. “Seeing you sleep peacefully... it’s soothing to me.”

You frown, fingers threading through his saturated scalp. You peel away from his face and crunch upward into a sitting position.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, loving lips tacking against his earlobe as you gently detangle. Hunter’s grip tightens in protest.

“I promise; right back,” you plant a chaste kiss to his cheek and roll out of his hold and off the bed, dashing to the refresher. The faucet shoots on, and you’re back seconds later with a wrung cloth monitored thoughtfully; not too hot or cold. You’ve long learned the extent of Hunter’s restlessness that flourishes in the wake of direct heat, and similarly, an unanticipated chill proves catastrophic to his sensitized nerves and he shoots into overload in no time flat. You, ever the attentive companion, fortunately discovered the most ideal temperatures to coat items before application.

You gingerly drape the rag over the back of his neck, and his shoulders slope at the contact. He nods his thanks and you take up your spot beside him on the edge of the bed.

His head remains cast downward, eyes presumably skimming the dark floor where he no doubt is attempting to shrug off all his troubles onto. You rub between his shoulder blades.

“Do you want to call them?” You ask.

He takes a shaky breath. “I think... that might help. Yes.”

You twist your body around, flopping ridiculously across the bed to reach the nightstand you could’ve just gotten up and walked around to. You fumble briefly for the comm seated there before straightening back up and activating a sequence. The light on the device blinks silently in working to establish a connection. A tremor burgeons from the mattress, a byproduct of Hunter’s bouncing knee. You still his disquiet with a reassuring squeeze. A voice finally crackles to life on the other end.

“Hello?” The greeting is interrupted by a seismic yawn.

“Hey Wrecker,” you greet gently. “Sorry to wake you.”

“Oh, hiya!” Sleep quickly disbands from the large man upon recognition of your voice as he inflates with something more peppy. “What’s up?”

“Oh you know, checking in,” you pause, glancing over at Hunter. “Sarge and I just wanted to say hi.”

“Hey vod!” Wrecker addresses his brother then. “Everything good?”

“Everything’s fine, Wrecker,” Hunter does his best to withhold the weariness lacing his words. “Just wanted to hear your voice. You can go back to sleep now, bud.”

Wrecker hums contemplatively. “Y’sure that’s all? Ain’t sounded like ya slept a wink.”

“I‘ll get there, don’t worry about me.”

“Need a good Wrecker cuddle?”

An unfiltered chuckle sounds through Hunter, and you relish the closest thing to at ease he’s sounded all night. “Maybe later, Wreck. But I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Ohhhh,” Wrecker drawls cheekily, his wicked grin palpable as he recalls that Sarge is already occupied with a warm body. “Well ‘f ya change your mind lemme know! Nighty night you two.”

“Goodnight, Wrecker.” You can’t help your own splitting grin.

Hunter snorts softly as the comm ends. “Feels like I’ve been caught in something scandalous.”

“Yeah, but he’s loyal,” you snicker, contacting the next member.

“Present.” It comes as no surprise that the engineer’s voice rings through with an unnerving level of chipper. Absolutely preposterous, this man. “Where am I needed?”

“In bed,” Hunter grumbles. “Get to sleep, Tech.”

“And yet you are the one who called me,” Tech glides right over the explicit command, the sound of his trinketing flooding the background. “Anyway, I look forward to showing you my newest creation—”

“Goodnight, Tech,” you sever his impending presentation with a snort. “Thanks for picking up. Puts Hunter’s mind at ease. He’s restless tonight.”

“Ah, yes. We will need to work on his subpar development regarding healthy sleep patterns.”

Hunter’s face twists with a frown that doesn’t hold that much weight. “If that ain’t the pot callin’ the kettle black.”

“Indeed. I just thought you might enjoy the humor in that.”

Hunter flashes a smirk he figures his younger brother is probably matching. “You know yours is my favorite, vod’ika.”

“That is good to hear.” A pause. “Goodnight, Hunter. Should you still find yourself restless in the coming hours, I’m happy to assist with my ‘useless trivia’ that inevitably puts you to sleep.”

“By that point you should find yourself asleep,” the ori’vod points out.

“Very well,” Tech relents. “I shall, for you.”

Hunter just shakes his head, unconvinced he won’t discover a sleepy genius slumped over the nearest workbench here within the next few hours.

Another round of brotherly charges are exchanged and then you’re left with one last call to make.

The last member acknowledges in a far less amiable manner.

“Crosshair.” You innately grow solemn with it. “Got a second?”

“Don’t really have a choice now,” he responds curtly, a lingering husk of sleep in his voice.

“Sorry Cross,” Hunter interjects. “My doing. Just wanted to check in on you boys.”

“At two in the morning.”

Hunter manages a wry smile. “Can’t say hi to my vode whenever?”

There’s silence on Crosshair’s end for a moment.

“What’s going on.” He’s returned bearing more sage.

You feel Hunter straighten beside you. “Nothin’, vod. Don’t worry about it.”

“That doesn’t work on me, Hunter. Try again.”

“I’m fine,” Hunter said rushingly. “Promise. Just gets a little stuffy in my head sometimes. But you boys always make it better, y’know?”

Crosshair quiets. “Get some rest. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Thanks vod. Appreciate it.”

You imagine Crosshair’s eyes searing into you through the comm as his attention shifts. “Keep me updated.”

“I will,” you assure. The connection ends. You eye Hunter, grazing your fingernails along the side of his head, tucking inky strands behind his ear. “Did that help at all?”

Hunter huffs a tired laugh. “Think it just made it worse. Now none of ‘em will sleep because of me.”

“They’ll be just fine,” you begin guiding him back under the covers. “Now to make sure you are.” He resists you for the briefest of moments.

“I am fine, honey.”

“You will be,” you agree, lying back. Hunter soon follows and sprawls out over top of you, wriggling until he’s positioned ideally with his head on your chest yet within proximity of your neck to plaster kisses with ease when the mood strikes.

Hunter makes a little choked sound, and you realize he’s clearing his throat. “Thank you... for doing that for me.”

You flatten his head to your chest with something fiercely protective. “I would do anything for you.”

“Which, by and large, is entirely unnecessary.”

He earns himself a long-suffering sigh at that.

“It is necessary. Because you are my everything.”

“I—”

“Shh,” you rebuke him. “Dammit, Hunter—just let someone take care of you.” You chew your lip. “Let me.”

He inhales deeply through his nose. It is entirely plausible for Sergeant Hunter to be bested in a battle-of-the-wills on the rarest of occasions; this being one of them. You spread your hands across his back and begin a deliberating massage. He groans lightly, his neglected aches and pains woven into the limelight by your touch. You quickly get caught up in your administration. When your breath suddenly hitches, Hunter lifts his head in curiosity.

“I’m just… you...” Words feel thick on your tongue. “You are a remarkable man, you know that?”

The corded muscles of his back tense. Anyone else would bask in such awestruck reverence but not Hunter, who makes haste to override his obvious discomfort with a thoughtful hum.

“I know that’s what you believe,” he answers neutrally.

“Because it’s true.” You reposition the wicking cloth at his neck. “Your brothers and I... we would all be lost without you.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

A pinch to his bicep. “Maybe you’re too hard on yourself.” Too damn stubborn, you nearly add.

His demeanor is colored with remiss. “All in a Sergeant’s work.”

One-hundred percent success rates and elite statuses aside: Hunter carries his tediously bashful disposition in total part.

“You don’t have to be Sergeant around me, you know,” you cup his face, tilting him up to meet yours. “You can just be Hunter.”

He can just be himself.

He shrugs with that pained, dutiful smile. The smile that follows him into adversity, the wry humor that is as much his shield as any. “Guess I don’t know how to separate the two.”

Your eyes well all of a sudden as you gaze upon this beautiful and troubled man with so much love in your heart it sends a keeling pang through you. Of course he doesn’t know how. He’s never known how to truly feel distinguished outside the focal point of soldiering. He’s always been so different, but never an individual. Never his own man. Preordained for responsibilities since before his decant, conducive in parental devices and sibling undertakings and leadership skills interchangeably. Always carrying others but who carries him?

You choke on a verklempt breath.

“I can help you.” You sound so small and desperate, sobbing quietly underneath him as your heart breaks alongside his. “Please let me help you…”

In the dark he captures your salty, stray tear with his lips—he always knows—before moving down and swallowing your mouth. Tenderness blooms from his textured lips, soft and sultry and seeping into every capillary. A soft love note pings from you against him when he’s got you like this, cast in a smelter of dire adoration and the overwhelming need to nurture. His touch, his kiss, is a burning ember that brands you even when he pulls away.

“You already do,” he murmurs sweetly against your lips.

#omg this ruined me #I’m so freaking emotional over him #this is entirely self indulgent #star wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter #clone trooper wrecker #wrecker #clone trooper tech #tech #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair #my writing #it’s a lil thing

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13atoms · 3 years

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Cyberium [Dh!Master x Reader]

Post-Timeless Children, 2.8k :) fluff, angst, you know the drill.

You huffed, a little irritated you’d been left alone on the TARDIS.

The Master had been unusually adamant that you stay, and you knew him well enough to respect when his mood swung firmly to the realm of ‘serious’.

He’d kissed you properly before leaving the ship, all clasping hands and desperate lips against yours, rushing off to meet the Doctor at the boundary with the barest hesitation outside at the doors.

For days before he’d been getting more and more wound up. You could see the sleeplessness on his face, the desperation, ever since he’d started playing with the damn Matrix all those months ago. He didn’t like you being on Gallifrey – in fact he’d only let you sneak around with him once, giving you a tour one last time before it was destroyed.

Once the entire citadel sat in ruins, ash all around, he refused to let you see more than a glimpse of it. Perhaps, deep down, he worried you’d be horrified by the extent of the destruction he had caused. You had grown used to it, sneaking glances out of the door, watching live feeds from outside on the TARDIS monitors while he cooked up plans.

The night before he had finally snapped, dragged you into bed just to strip you both down to your skin and pull you to him so tightly you could feel the tremor in his bones and the double-beat in his chest.

“If I don’t come back, the TARDIS should dematerialise,” he had whispered in your ear, “she’ll protect herself, she should drop you back to Earth. You know how to land her, you’ll be fine.”

He had been convincing himself, hands toying with the ends of your hair as he forced himself to sound normal, casual. You wondered if there was doubt in his mind. Fear. Certainly, there was nervousness.

This was all so big, you wondered how he tackled the magnitude of what he was doing inside his own mind.

“You’d better come back,” you had insisted, planting a soft kiss to his sideburn, fingers wrapped in his hair.

“I’m sure I will.”

You could hear the shake in his voice, your heart aching at the thought he might not want to.

But he always came back. Always clawed his way back to life, even as parts of him seemed to be chipped away, his very sense of self shaken again and again for the entire time you’d known him.

His eyes had been bloodshot, deep eyebags plaguing his features as he left that morning. You’d spent hours and hours kicking around the ship, unable to focus on anything and yet far too sensible to ignore his warning and leave the ship.

You kept waiting onboard, trying to ignore the whispered words you’d heard from his lips. The whispers of resurrections and death particles and cybermen and maybe, finally, ending it all.

The tiny tremors of the TARDIS’ living floor felt seismic, each minute passing with the threat of a dematerialisation without him. As the hours grew longer you gave up on trying to do anything but sit perched by the door, begging the universe for the Master to stride back through that door, victorious.

You somehow dozed off.

The metallic crunching of feet woke you up, huge metal soldiers ducking to enter the TARDIS, making you shrink back and look around frantically, until you saw the figure of the Master instructing a few of them.

He was shouting, commanding them.

You watched in shock.

“Here! Inside!”

The Master stumbled, and you grasped for purchase on your seat, as the TARDIS suddenly dematerialised. Through the open door you could see the metal creatures outside disappear, fire engulfing them and licking at the doorframe of the ship before the doors slammed closed and the time vortex appeared outside the windows.

You gasped, your breathing suddenly ragged as you realised how close the Master and yourself had been to death. You could feel the ghost of the flames on your face, that split second of their heat enough to make your cheeks feel warm and dried out.

Those blank, soulless creatures stood unmoving as the Master looked around, pushing through the crowd of them to get to you.

“You’re here,” he smiled, the tears in his eyes amplifying their redness. His skin was palid, oily, dust settled visibly across his features. His hair was mussed up in a distinctly unintentional way, greasy, and you pulled away instinctively as his scuffed hands reached for you.

He searched your eyes as desperately as you searched his, trying to figure out what happened.

“I’m so glad you’re safe. That you stayed,” he laughed, baring his teeth, mania coursing through his veins.

He hadn’t won. That much was obvious. If he had won, he wouldn’t be on the verge of breaking down in your eyes, concealing his sadness with that shark-like grin that made you wince.

There was something else. Something lurking at the edge of the whites of his eyes, making his fingers shake as they dried to cup your face, a silvery hue to his sweaty face.

The creatures behind him remained unmoving, even in the harsh rock of TARDIS-travel, and you caught yourself watching them suspiciously. They were creepy, too tall, their half-moon headpieces making the small group of them look more numerous, more threatening.

“It’s okay,” he Master told you, his words wheezed out on a hysterical laugh. His fingers were still reaching for your face, and you found your whole body tensing as their rough grasp met your skin. You could feel the dusting of ash he left on your jaw as he clutched your face between his hands, crouched over you.

For once, you felt intimidated by him. The slight tremble of his body made him clench you more harshly than was comfortable.

“We’re okay,” he told you, demanding and firm in his tone as the creatures behind him all stomped at once, the small legion of them turning to face him.

You looked to the creatures with obvious fear, eyes wide. Something about them was unnerving, beside their obvious intimidating build. They seemed… empty. Haunting.

“What are they?” you managed, your tongue feeling unnaturally heavy in your mouth.

He looked over his shoulder with a glare at the creatures, barking to them wish distain as he continued his tight grip on your face.

“First room. Left.”

The creatures followed his command, marching in a military unison which made you tremble. The Master looked back to you with an attempt at a gentle smile, crouching and then kneeling in front of you.

He refused to let go of your face.

You brought your hands up to dislodge his, gently pulling them from your cheeks, and he let you. His hands didn’t drop far, only to your lap, but that was a little better. His unnerving smile doing nothing to comfort you as it stayed plastered across his features, completely bizarre in its poor imitation of ‘comforting’.

The was something so wrong. Even without the creatures in the room, there was something else here. Something unsettling you and making you want to run from the man you trusted so deeply.

You caught a glimpse of it.

Flashing across his eyes.

As fast and intangible as a shape beneath dark water, just as menacing as silver darted across his dulled irises.

It was like you were finally seeing what you had suspected all along. The deep brown of his eyes was muted, strangely lightened by the silvery film which seemed to sit over his gaze.

“Master…” you began carefully, the name making his hands clench to fists in your lap. “Is there something wrong?”

He blinked slowly, the flutter of his dark eyelashes strangely different than usual, the sheen of sweat on his cheek reflecting an impossible whitish-grey under the warm TARDIS lights.

“Nothing’s wrong, love.”

“Something’s wrong,” you pushed, watching as he shifted his weight, his knees no doubt aching from the bare floor of the ship beneath them.

“Something’s… different,” he conceded, looking away from a moment, hands shifting on your knees.

“What?”

“There’s… those are Cybermen. Sort of. Give or take. I took their consciousness from their leader,” he was smiling, but those eyes. It was unnerving you, the mistiness which had started to swirl across them. The sweat on his brow made him look feverish, the trembling in his hand had worsened. His whole body was shivering. “Cyberium. I took it into my own consciousness, and now it’s mine. All of Cyberman knowledge, control, it’s all mine.”

He was struggling for breath, and you sank to the floor beside him, letting him sit back and pant as his pride started to falter.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you demanded, and he raised his eyebrows in shock, looking up at you.

“Excuse me, love?”

“Why would you do that?”

You were worried. The Master’s jaw clenched, whether from irritation or pain you weren’t sure. His clothes rumpled as he fought to stay sat up on the ground, his coat buttons strained as the dusty material tugged across his chest. He looked sick. Worryingly so, his fringe plastered to his forehead with sweat. You thought of those monsters in the next room, and wondered why on earth he would want to be more like them.

“Are you telling me what to do?” he argued, but it was half-hearted. You could see concern starting to creep into his expression as your worry grew.

“I’m telling you I’m worried about you! And I don’t understand why you’d let this… parasite, or whatever, into your body willingly!”

With a roar of pain, the Master writhed, his head thud-ding against the floor as the Cyberium fought against him. Your anger was instantly forgotten. You surged forwards, one hand bruising behind his head as you protected his skull from hitting the floor again, your hands useless trying to find purchase on his body to offer comfort or... or something.

“I can see why you’re angry, in hindsight,” he ground out, doing his best at offering an award winning smile as you leant over his thrashing body.

“What’s happening?”

The silveriness of his eyes was swirling now, less settled, like it was fighting his own deep brown eyes for dominance. You wondered what war was going in that incredible mind of his.

“Taking over… it’s taking over my mind.”

“What can I –”

“There’s nothing you can do,” he panted out.

One of his hands had found your waist, a tragic imitation of the possessive hold you liked to keep on one another in public as he grasped for you. You found his hand and held it against your body, a clumsy mess of fingers as you tried to comfort him.

“It’s telepathic. It must be strong, to be a match for a time lord. I’ll give it that.”

You didn’t believe his desperate attempt to sound jovial for a second. Each word left his body in a huff of frantic breath, like he might not make it to say the next. You swallowed down tears as his legs kicked out in pain, a deep roar emerging from deep in his chest. Your hand behind his head took a beating as he writhed forwards again, only to seem possessed to throw himself back into the floor.

Not for the first time, you suspected he was cursing your humanity. Whatever was happening required a kind of telepathy your species just didn’t possess. The TARDIS hummed around you, and you gasped, staring up at the ceiling as the Master’s eyes fell closed.

His body was suddenly eerily quiet, and it scared you.

“Can you help him?” you asked the ship, forcing your ragged breath quiet and straining your ears for any sign from the ship.

A weird feeling of calm overtook you, and you understood her.

The console was lit up, a small door beneath it quietly clicking open, and you threw a ‘thank you’ to the universe that the Master had a ship as crazy as he was.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you called to her, scurrying over to the cubbyhole she’d opened, spotting a hose with a football-sized sphere at the end.

She must have sensed your confusion, because the TARDIS made the ball glow green in your hands.

“I can give him this?” you tried, still frowning as you saw his body begin to writhe again, another round of fighting starting.

You wondered how long he could hold out, he seemed exhausted. The ship around you hummed, a vague sense of ‘affirmative’ washing over you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, tugging the cable back to his body, forcing his clammy hands onto the white light of the sphere.

“Please work,” you begged, not sure who you were asking, stepping back from the connection between the Master and his ship.

He seemed semi-conscious, eyelashes fluttering but so deep within his own mind that his body had been forgotten. You could only sit back and watch.

It felt like hours passed before the Master roused, the ball in his hands an angry, pulsing chrome when he finally discarded it beside him. It slowly returned to white as the TARDIS absorbed the AI which had left his body.

“It’s gone. Well, not gone, trapped in the TARDIS systems. She’ll keep it locked away,” he seemed genuinely thrilled, and you caught yourself smiling in bemusement, “so I can reference it. But not… be it.”

“Good,” you cut him off, “I prefer you one-hundred percent time lord.”

He beamed as you planted a sweet kiss against his forehead, pulling you onto his lap, your legs bracing yourself either side of his thighs. He was still weak, exhausted. You didn’t want to risk hurting him.

“Are you sure you’re not time lord?” he teased, “You are far too clever to be a human.”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you laughed, giddy with the relief of saving him.

“I think you underestimate humans.”

He wrinkled his nose in mock disgust, and you stuck your tongue out at him. You watched his face morph into a smirk as you leant forwards to kiss him instead, eyes closing.

Distantly you registered the metallic footsteps of those creatures behind you, wondered when the Master had time to call them, but you were preoccupied. There was a time lord kissing you and you were incredibly glad he was still alive to do it.

His hands snaked behind you, one pulling you closer to him against your back, the other making its way up your spine to gently cup your neck. The touch felt like him again, none of the hostility he’d had with the cyberium in his mind.

You took a moment to be grateful for the TARDIS again, projecting the thought, and felt the Master laugh against your lips.

“She’s the real genius between us,” you mumbled against the corner of his mouth, tasting the ash and sweat of his skin and not caring in the slightest.

How could you care, with him laughing and smiling beneath your lips?

“Don’t say that, it’ll go to her time rotor.”

“Ew.”

His body was soft beneath you, the colour returning to his face, and you were beyond glad to look into his eyes and see nothing but their usual blood-shot appearance.

“You are so stupid for doing that,” you chided jokingly, knowing he would roll his eyes before he did it.

“I got caught up in the moment,” he argued, never one to concede a mistake. You smirked.

“Idiot.”

A squeal of shock left you as he flipped both of you, pining you underneath him, careful not to hurt you as he feigned irritation.

“I’ll have to punish you for that, I’ve burned planets for less.”

“Scary,” you jabbed sarcastically, pulling a face at him.

As he laughed, too exhausted to follow through on any kind of ‘threat’, you froze.

The Master knew something was wrong immediately, as he saw you staring over his shoulder at the huge, metallic creature staring blindly down at you. The void behind those eyes was chilling, even the Master’s body over yours doing nothing to stifle your shiver.

“Did you tell it to do that?” you whispered to him, your stomach plummeting as the creature’s head tilted slightly to the side in comprehension.

The Master shook his head, hands guiding you to stay behind him as he slowly moved to stand, a sudden silence settling over the console room.

The creature stepped forwards, arm outstretched, the metallic ring of five others following it. The lights of the TARDIS had turned a deep, unpleasant silver, the ship dark and shadows shifting. The time rotor was red.

The Master’s fingers trembled as his left hand reached for his TCE, his right hand making its way behind his back. His sleeve slipped to reveal a vortex manipulator on his wrist, and you felt your stomach plummeting at the thought of what those creatures might do with a TARDIS at their disposal.

You took a deep breath, holding onto him tightly. A shot rang out across the room, and you felt the ground whipped from beneath your feet, the Master’s victorious cheer following you through the teleport.

#dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #the end felt so 2011 doctor who lol #love it #fic #13atoms #request

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catracorner962 · 3 years

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Beautiful Children Ch 1

It's been five years since Horde Prime was defeated. Two years since Catra and Adora got married. Magic has been brought to Etheria, but all is not well. On a mission to destroy the last of The Brotherhood of Prime Catra finds an orphan magicat among the ruin. Now she and Adora must decide if they are ready for another adventure all together. Adora is ecstatic, Catra...less so. Through their decision, both must revisit childhood memories, some more pleasant than others.

*Warning: Violence, childbirth, themes of childhood abuse and trauma.*

She came into the world a flaming comment, blazing with shining light in an otherwise darkened world. A world becoming undone.

“Good! Good mistress! Just a little longer, I can see her head. Push now! Push!” The room shook violently, bed shaking, debris falling from the ceiling. The woman heaved for breath, pushing, her face pinched with pain.

“Aaaahhh can’t! W...e...we have to….g...go!”

She pushed harder, straining. Fists gripping at blue sheets.

“Almost there darling, you just have to…watch out!” The man all but threw himself across his partner, grunting as debris hit his back.

“Honey?!”

“I...I’m fine!” He smiled grimly, touching, squeezing her arm, “just keep pushing. They’ll be here soon. So soon. You’re doing great!” The woman starred at him, eyes filled with dread, another seismic shake from the earth beneath them sent the room into a spinning tumble. Windows clattered with the terrifying wind, outside muffled screams were lost to the tempest.

“I...I c...can’t!”

“You can mistress, just one more push...that’s it!” The midwife assured her, gripping the bed posts for balance. Blood and viscera leaked from the woman, but so too did a smattering of golden hair.

“Go love, that’s it! That’s…” A crack, metal from the roof above them bent and broke, falling around the small bedchamber. He screamed; shards of splitting iron cascading down. He bent close to his partner, shielding her head.

“What’s happening?! We...we’re not going to make it! I c...can...aaahh!” The woman’s body buckled, arching with a final desperate push., whole form tensed.

“Waaah! Hwaaah, hwaah!”

The man turned, squinting over his shoulder towards the sound, heart hammering. His vision tumbled, another series of tremors. Glass shattered, bursting out into the storm around them. The wicked gusts tugging at the sheets of the bed.

“I...is it….?”

“S...she’s alright!” The nursemaid clutched the baby close to her chest, it’s little cries deaf to the destruction around it. “She’s healthy...a..and w...well!”

The laboring woman’s face collapsed with relief. Sighing and smiling, despite it all.

“You did it! You did it my love she’s here! Did you hear that?! We have a daughter! We have,” he kissed her, lips slicked with tears and sweat and all. Even as reality fell down among them. Trees outside screeched, bark splitting and tearing. Rocks and boulders spun through the air.

“She...sh...aaaaarggg!”

The room trembled once more, bed rocking.

“Th...there’s another!” The nurse maid cried, falling forward against the exhausted woman, threatening to collapse on top of her. She caught herself with one arm, the swaddled baby held fast in the other.

“A...Another?” The man breathed, face tightening. His eyes scanned the destruction surrounding them. The walls shook, tearing apart.

“I….c...can’t!” The woman sobbed, her blonde hair falling from it’s ponytail. He swiped a lock of hair backward.

“I..it’s okay, it’ll be alright, we...we can,” the ground undulated, pitching the bed to the left violently. The pair, their nursemaid and the infant screaming as they fell to the floor.

A red light piercing through the dark clouds. Sounds of cannon fire.

The blonde woman rolled, groaning, hauling herself upward to squat among the wreck of their home, the walls now crumbling.

“Here, take her,” the nursemaid thrust the tiny babe to her father. He took her, into his shaking, bloody arms. Her little from squirming, gummy mouth still emoting pitiful cries.

“There, there, it’s alright,” he soothed, kissing her little head. The red light blasted around them, people screaming, crying, begging for mercy. The little baby only gurgled, oblivious to the destruction around it.

“Love, you alright?”

He turned towards his partner, who screamed, enough to rival the gales.

“Th...that’s it!” The nursemaid crouched before her, hands outstretched ready to catch the second babe.

With a final cry, the woman broke down in a sob with the second series of little wails.

“A boy! Also h...healthy.”

The man tried to step forward, towards the two women. He coughed, smoke filling the wreck of the room, of their home. He pulled shaking arms around them, another cracking beam fell through, crashing around them. Both babes wailed.

“Sh….sh...it’s alright. You did it,” he cried, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the little ones.

“Adam,” his partner sighed beside him, holding the boy in her arms. She kissed his forehead, determined to make a moment of love and peace amid destruction.

“And the girl?” The father asked.

“What about…”

“Aaaahhh!”

The nursemaid screamed, then crumpled to the ground, limp. A bot stormed through the harrowing storm. It’s cold lights blinking, lazer revving up.

“What have we here?”

The man and woman starred in horror, at their nursemaid’s body holding the infants tight against them. The wind tugged at the figures cape. His pale form illuminated by fire, red eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“H….Horde Prime…” the man whispered, pulling his arms tighter around both his partner and newborn. The pale figure only smiled, revealing pointed fangs.

“No, fool. I am not Horde Prime. You are not worthy to behold him. I am but his brother.” He stepped forward, metal claws poised.

“You have something I desire. Now give it here.”

“No!” The woman screamed, she seized a shard of plated metal and rose to her feet shaking. Adam tucked tight against her.

“Love! No!”

She strode forward, fast as her condition would allow. Determined, she raised the shard to strike at the Hordesman’s neck. Claws warped tightly around her wrist, snapping it.

“Aaah! N...no!” He grinned cruelly, eyes flicking to the baby in her arms.

“Let them go!” The father shouted, trembling.

“Fools. You are as arrogant as all your kind. First Ones, ha! You will be nothing but a shadow. A memory. Your people are arrogant, selfish, wretches. A plague upon the galaxies.”

The Hordesman smirked, the bot beside him turned towards the woman and her child.

“No! Don’t!”

BAM!

The woman screamed, laser fire blasting through her chest in one fell blow. She too collapsed to the shattered earth. Body charred, and smoking, Tiny Adam wailing in her arms.

“N...no….no!” The father whimpered, his legs frozen. In his arms the tiny girl squalled, Little arms reaching out from her thin blanket The Hordesman stalked forward, bending down to the dead woman. He reached for the bundle in her arms, lifting it and huffed.

“D...don’t hurt h….him...p….please!”

“He’s not the one I want.”

The villain stalked forward, the bot turning towards the father. It’s laser cannon glowed ready for another blast. He gulped, mouth dry. Sweat beading on his temples. The small life in his arms cried. Red eyes bore into him.

“Hand it over,” the Hordesman reached for the girl in his arms.

“No!” He turned away, twisting to keep his child as far as he could from the reach of the Horde. The bot’s laser shot a beam, just past his head. He screamed, folding to the ground over the child at the Hordesman’s feet. The last of the bedroom wall now blasted to a smoldering pile. All around them the wind whipped, burnt flesh and charring metal filled his lungs, eyes streaming with tears sorrow and discomfort in equal measure.

“I will not ask again,” the imposing Hordesman hissed. “Give it to me.”

“Not a chance!” He snarled, hunkering down over the baby.

“Very well, you have chosen your fate.”

The father let out a small whimper, the Hordesman’s metal claws clamping around his neck. He clutched the baby closer still. Even as his feet levitated off the ground, kicking feebly. The baby continued to wail, Her blue eyes creased with confusion and fright. Too little, she was too little to know such emotions. To comprehend such chaos. She should not have to, not at only a few moments old. Already experiencing the horror of the world.

“Give it to me,” the Hordesman commanded. The father’s arms held her tight even as the creature grabbed for the infant, wrenching her away with an impossible strength.

“A...Adora! No! P...p...please!”

The Hordesman tucked the screaming baby into the crook of his other arm.

“Adora,” he mused. The baby’s blue grey eyes squinted, little tears ebbing at the edges of her eyes. He turned back to the father, his grip tightening.

“This child will be instrumental to Horde Prime’s victory. She will be an asset to our conquest. You may take comfort in that, before you die.”

Adora’s father clawed at the Hordesman’s arm, mouth sucking for air, his eyes wild and wide. Lipless, the Hordesman smiled, fingers tightening against the pulsing viens, the soft flesh. His smile only grew, the man’s windpipe crushed with ease. His body flailed and twitched, falling to the floor with a dull thud.

He smirked, turning from the wreckage. The baby had quieted, large eyes only blinking and confused.

“Adora,” he whispered, one claw caressing her little cheek.

“You will be of great use to us.”

The Hordesman, known as Hordak tucked the child against him, through the swirling dark portal. Leaving the wreckage of Eternia lost to the anals of history.

---

“Adora! Look out!”

Glimmer shouted, flinging one hand out to send a beam of magic forward, it flew past Adora’s shoulder, directly behind her. She turned, only to see one of Prime’s clones fall to the ground.

“Thanks your magest...ugh!” She swung out with the sword, catching yet another clone with the broadside of the blade, shoving him backward and wrestling him to the ground. He swung out lamely, fists beating against her armor. She bit back a grin, squaring him straight in the face.

“Shera, on your right!” Bow shouted, an arrow swinging by, hitting another clone in the shoulder.

“Got it!” Adora, as Shera ran forward ducking another three other clones. She spun, dashing and slashed them across the back of the neck. Their chips sparking with electric shocks. They groaned, crashing to the ground.

“BOOM!”

She turned, heart sinking at another explosion, this one in the village center. Debris shot through the air, crashing down into the narrow streets.

“All the people...they...they made it out right?!”

“We got everyone we could!” Netossa answered, shortly. She swung another volley of nets capturing the clone closest to Spinnerella.

That’s not reassuring...where’s…?

“Aaaaarrrggghh!” Adora turned towards the sound on instinct but smiled, she knew that sound.

Catra, but not her cry of pain or distress. It was a giddy cry of satisfaction. She took another swipe at an oncoming clone, hitting him with the butt of her sword before flinging him over her back, smashing him to the ground and looking up at where Catra leapt from a nearby tree branch. She all but glided through the air, leaping at two clones, her claws tearing through their makeshift robes with ease. She vaulted off them as they feel, landing, as always, on her feet.

“What is it princess? See something you like?” the end of her tail flicked back and forth in a tease.

“I….”

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The sky over Tellinville flashed with orange red light, buildings crumbled, the ground shook. Catra’s ears flicked back in irritation.

“There really better not be any left,” Adora whispered, heart clenching. The heat of the fires stinging her face.

“How many more of them are there?!” Spinnerella took out four more clones with a strong gust.

“According to Perfuma and Frosta not many!” Netossa kicked at a clone who had pinned her to the ground. A net clamped over it, throwing it aside.

“You alright?” Bow gasped, Netossa nodded, gaining her footing and rushed forward once more.

“We will be victorious brothers! In the name of Horde Prime we will….”

“Shut it!” Catra snarled, jumping onto it’s back and dragging her claws across it’s thin throat. Green blood spurted from it’s neck before it coughed and fell forward, still.

Adora fought the blush rising in her cheeks.

“Will,” Glimmer shot another beam of magic towards an oncoming clone, “you,” she ducked, kicking out nailing another in it’s hip, “two” it recovered but not before she darted forward, jabbing at a pressure point in its neck, “get a,” it fell incapacitated and Glimmer saw her opening, swinging her staff to take it out with a bash to the head, “room!” She finished, glaring at the pair of them.

“Sorry Glimmer!” Adora shouted, punching yet another clone in the stomach. She cut through it easily like paper. All that training paid off.

“Awe what’s the matter Sparkles, jealous?” Catra cocked a hip out in her stance. “Argh!” She turned, whip out instantly, cracking over the face of a clone.

“I...I think that’s the last of them!” Bow panted, slinging his bow to his back. He spared a moment to kiss Glimmer on the cheek as she wiped a sweaty hand across her brow. Adora sheathed her sword.

“The Brotherhood of Prime really managed to occupy this town for awhile huh?” Netossa looked towards the decimated village.

I failed….no...we failed...no... Adora stopped herself. Even as Shera, the thoughts swarmed through her mind. The tempestuous anxiety filling her gut. Remember Perfuma’s lessons. You aren’t a failure. It’s not your fault. We only just found out about the Brotherhood of Prime.

A warm hand on her arm coaxed Adora from her thoughts. Catra offered her a tiny smile, fingers squeezing. Her eyes met Adora’s briefly as Glimmer went over further strategy. It was a small glance, seemingly nothing really. But Adora recognized it well. After all, she and Catra had spoken with silent looks for most of their lives. A glance here and here in training exercises. A mischievous squint during drills. A sympathetic eye after one of them emerged from Shadow Weaver’s chambers. It was a secret language they knew well.

Are you alright?

Yeah.

“Sound good?” Glimmer finished. Bow nodded, taking off with Spinnerella, “Oh will you two pay attention for five damn minutes?!” The queen of Brightmoon all but screeched.

“What? Sorry!” Adora wrung her hands, unsure what to do with them now that they weren’t holding a weapon.

“We’re scouting Tellinville for survivors. Think you the Horde Scum can keep your hands off each other long enough to do that?”

“Depends,” Catra quipped, wrapping her arms around Adora’s thick bicep, “how many dark corners and little alleys does Tellinville have?” Glimmer only rolled her eyes.

“Fine! We’ll look for survivors! Not that there can be many after Prime’s remaining brother’s destroyed everything.”

“We’ll meet back here. If you find anyone, signal for me.” Adora nodded, making her way towards the village with Catra in tow.

---

Buildings lay in smoldering rubble. Smashed dishes, an overturned bed.

“Do you hear anything? See anyone?”

Catra shook her head, sniffing for any sign of life. Only melted metal, the residue of that viscous green liquid.

Come into the light little sister, yes….yes...let your pain melt away.

No!

He’s not here, you're safe. It’s been five years. You’re alright.

Catra scratched at the back of her neck, stepping over a fallen pillar.

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” Adora walked ahead, eyes endlessly shifting for any sign of life. “I’ll go around the outskirts of the perimeter in case Bow and Spinnerella missed anything. Perfuma and Frosta are covering the town center. If you can cover the south side that’ll help. Netossa and Glimmer have the rest.

“A’right, call if you need anything princess,” Catra answered, trying to hide the lack of enthusiasm.

Adora leaned forward pecking a kiss to her temple. As Shera her lips radiated warmth and magic of their own that sent a thrumming through Catra. She suppressed a purr before Adora gave her a final salute and strode off, through the heaps of wood and stone, green liquid sloshing under her boots.

“Hello? Hellooo? Anyone! Anyone there? Hello? Answer me dammit!” Catra called, her ears flicking this was and that. Ducking through alleys and under a collapsed entry way to what had been a home.

“Helllloooo?”

Catra sniffed,

Smoke...iron...blood...urine...more blood...tears….burning fur...smoldering flesh…

Burning fur…?

She sniffed once more, dropping to all fours,

There’s something here…

Catra picked among the broken shards of glass, tracing the scent from the demolished home. Going brick by brick.

“Ehh, ehh, aah!”

She sniffed again, tail high. Going through the wreck, she dug through the rock. It used to be a ceiling or a wall no doubt, destroyed by one of the bombs that the Brotherhood of Prime set off when they saw the princesses coming.

“Hello? Say something! We’re here to help you!”

“Ehhh, ehh ehh!”

Sounds like a child….

Catra flung through the bricks and dust frantically, white dust clouding and puffing up. She coughed through the hazy cloud, squinting to make out any sign of….

An eye, shut against the white dust that covered half a face. She dug faster, hacking through the plumes of soot. Catra lifted another brick with one hand, bracing the others so they didn’t come tumbling down with the other.

“There...there it’s...it’s okay,” she muttered and stopped. The ear of the little thing flopped, triangular, black and velvet.

What….?

“AAAhh! Ahhh!”

It cried, white specs falling into its mouth. It coughed feebly. Catra reached forward, sliding her hands under its small body. She held her breath, lifting the little thing from its entrapment, gathering it in her arms.

Sh licked her hand, wiping at it’s face.

Two floppy little ears, and the stubbiest of tails curled around it’s bottom. Catra gingerly shook out its hair, white powder sloughing off to reveal thin wisps of blonde hair. She adjusted her grip on the little thing, carefully giving it’s mouth a swipe with her finger to clear any remaining dust.

“Mrrp, grrl,” it squeaked, opening its mouth to cry once more.

Fangs?

It’s whole body shook, it’s belly, still retaining a thin velvet coating of birth hair, huffed in and out in an attempt to take in more air.

Catra starred, heart hammering.

The arms around the infant grew heavy, riddled with goose bumps. Every hair on her body stood on end.

A...magicat kitten….

---

She came into the world the treasure of a dying people. A relic, a hope. But it was not to be.

“I can do this, just...just…” the magicat held out his hand, crouched between the humongous roots of an old one tree.

His husband grabbed his hand tightly. Keeping his worry to himself. The kitten was coming too late, it had been due to arrive moons ago. A birth this far past it’s time could only end one of two ways. A death, or severe complications leading to death not long after.

“You can, you can do this,” even as he said it, he looked around, ears on alert for any sign of movement, any sound of bots or First One’s bugs Either were equally possible in this part of Etheria. Neither the Fright Zone, or the Whispering Woods, or any of the princess’s kingdoms.

“AAAAARRRGGGHHH!!!” he cried, body tensing. “Aaaarrgghhh.”

“That’s it, that’s it,” The other soothed, going around to crouch before his husband. “And...try not to...be so loud? We only just lost the bots. I’d hate to have you running in your condition.”

“Not be so loud?! I’m delivering your child!”

“Right, sorry. You’re doing great.”

Still anxiety ate at him. Bots could linger anywhere, Horde soldiers, it was a miracle they survived this long, with one of them pregnant no less.

“Okay, okay almost there….almost….” a rush of liquid, a little mewling cry. The magicat took the tiny thing into his arms, cutting the cord with one claw.

“Is….is it…”

“A girl,” he whispered, smoothing over her sticky mat of dark hair. She cried until he put her to his husbands chest. Tears and quick breaths of relief all around.

“She’s so small…” the other magicat reached up, cradling the kitten to his breast with one hand splaying across her entire back. Her stub of a tail barely switched. Her little eyes remained shut, but her ears were perfect velvet and her nose sniffed.

“She’s perfect.”

Silence, and for one brief moment the three of them were safe. Safe and together, a sanctuary between the trees. The magicat stroked her face lovelingly.

“I’m sorry love, I’m so sorry...I wish I could feed you properly,” his heart cracked, seeing her little mouth trying to suckle. Nothing would come. He was too thin, too starving. Barely well enough to carry her himself.

“Don’t feel bad my darling,” his husband kissed the little kitten between her velvet black ears. “It’s not your fault.”

“We...we can’t keep her,” he choked out, wiping his tears with a free hand. His husband nodded.

“They’ll catch us eventually. Even if she doesn’t starve.”

They held their child close, clutching her close against the breeze of the wood.

“What do we do?” He looked up at his husband, holding their child tight. She mewled for any food, her tiny body fragile.

“I have an idea, but...you won’t like it. I don’t like it either but it’s better… better than anything we can give her.”

It took four moons to get to the outskirts of the Fright Zone. Lightening cracked over the dark sky, they huddled close, keeping the kitten under a bundle of clothing scraps.

“...We...we can’t leave her,” the magicat pleaded, looking down at the flimsy box he held in his shaking hands.

“If she stays with us...she’ll die. We’ve been over this my darling we...we can’t. Better to give her a future, any future then sentence her to a slow death. That chance, a chance for a life is the only thing we can give her now.”

He looked down at the kitten in his arms, her yellow and blue eyes blinked up at them, curious. Her tiny claws poked through the folds of the clothing.

“I...I’m so sorry my love,” her father whispered through tears, pressing his nose to the crown of her head. Breathing her in, her scent, still fresh and clean. The kitten only whimpered, her tiny stomach gurgling. Her father kissed her between the brows for one desperate longing moment. She reached out, little hands padding against his damp cheeks.

“Come here,” he handed the little kitten off to her father who held her to his chest, kissing her, running his hands through her matted hair and caressing the tiny velvet ears.

“We love you kitten, so, so much,” shaking, he placed her down in the box, making sure to double check her blankets.

He placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder, squeezing it.

“I...i just want to hold her...just a little longer…” he reached down, scooping her up once more against his frail frame. The other magicat spoke into the small recording device they had scavenged.

“Please...please take care of her,” he begged. “Tell her we love her. When she’s old enough, show her this, so she knows how much we cherished her.”

He reached forward,

“It’s time my darling.”

“No,” the other magicat cried, shielding the kitten from the torrent of rain and flash of lightning.

“No….no...no...no...stars please no!” The little kitten, oblivious, drifted in and out of sleep in her father’s arms. One fist wrapped around her tail. Even through her birth fur, her ribs stuck outward.

He relented only when his husband pried her from his grasp gently, leaning down to put her in the box once more.

“She’ll have a bed, and food, and somewhere to live.”

“Is living with the Horde much of a life?”

“Darling….”

“I know,” he cried, ‘I know...I just….” he looked down at the sleeping kitten. “We never got to name her.”

His husband nodded, reaching down and giving the kitten a final kiss on the nose. He looked at her with adoration and misery. He could only ndd, despondent. They made the mistake of naming their first kitten. One that died shortly after being born. A heartbreak almost as bad as this one.

“We love you kitten, we love you with all our hearts.”

---

“Shera! Shera you saved us!”

Adora let out a nervous giggle, giving the woman a pat on the back.

“Well it was a team effort,” she admitted, escorting the woman to join the other survivors. Glimmer and Bow helped the last few stragglers into the spaceship.

Perfuma and Frosta handed out blankets as people got comfortable.

“Is that all of them?” Adora asked, gazing up the ramp of the ship. Glimmer nodded,

“According to Netossa and Spinnerella yes. They’re doing a final sweep just to be sure.”

Adora nodded,

Where’s Catra? She should be back by now?

Adora, calm down. It’s fine she’s probably doing a final check.

“I’ll do one last check,” she turned towards the village again.

“Adora, wait you don’t have to…”

She strode off before Glimmer could finish.

I have to do this. There are seventy five people in that ship who could’ve been killed. We...we weren’t able to get everyone out before the bombs….

Her heart sank, wandering through the quiet streets, looking for any sign of life.

Where is Catra….Catra?

“Adora?”

She turned instantly,

Now that was a cry of concern.

“Catra?! Don’t touch her! I…”

She stopped short as Catra came into view, wide eyed but in one piece, and holding something. She scurried up to Adora, something small in her arms.

“Catra your alright! We got the rest of the survivors on the….”

Adora looked down at the bundle Catra held. It was small, curled on its side into the crook of Catra’s arm.

“What….what is it?” She spluttered, dumbfounded. Catra looked from her to the thing in her arms, its little ears pressed against its head, tail curled against itself.

“It’s...it’s a baby,” Catra spoke as if realizing for the first time. She placed an instinctive protective hand atop its head. “I found a baby.”

Adora blinked throat suddenly dry. She took in the little creature by degrees. It’s tufts of hair, its scrunched face, the way Catra held it to her so tenderly. The way it seemed to sniff her out and curl closer to her. Something swelled in her chest, making her heart flutter.

“Where….where is its parents?”

#my writing #catra #adora #shera #spop #finn #catradora family #catradora kid #catradora parenting #glimmer #bow #shadow weaver #shadow weaver a+ parenting #spop season 5 #she-ra princess of power #SheRa and the Princesses of Power

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ansgar-martinsson · 4 years

Text

The Best Intentions - Part 13

He smiled behind her finger. “But, I’m always crass,” he said. “Something you will come to learn in short order, darling.” He caressed her arm, ghosting his fingers along the fine hairs he found there, and wrapped his hand around the back of hers. She moved, but he held her hand in place, her finger still extended atop his lips.

“Crass and crude and vile,” he murmured. She opened her mouth to speak but he silenced her, transforming her words into a deep, moaning growl as he took her finger in between his teeth. He closed his mouth around her, pressing his tongue, wet and warm to the pad of her finger, drawing in his cheeks to suck hard. “And you are delicious.’

There was a quiet rap at the door, and Ansgar, her finger still poised on his lips, said, “Come in.”

Gustav himself brought the dessert – thick coffee accompanied by two towering slices of white almond cake served on a wooden platter, and decorated with sugar ivy leaves, small flowers, and a bright red rhubarb sauce. The man’s eyes went slightly wide at the sight before him, of Ansgar’s wry, hungry smile, of Jolene’s flushed breast and cheeks. The head chef cracked a grin of his own, shared a knowing glance with Ansgar, bowed gracefully, and backed out of the room, closing it behind him with a soft click.

Jolene turned in her seat to face the table, and lifted her fork to tuck in to her dessert. Ansgar, a hand on her arm, stopped her. “No,” he said. “Don’t eat that yet.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because I get my dessert first. Face me.” He turned her chair so that they sat knee to knee behind the table. “Stand up,” he commanded, tugging at her hands. “Now.”

Her breaths came sharp and hard at his commands, but she obeyed.

“I have a query of you, Jolene,” Ansgar said, his voice heady and rough. He stayed seated, but scooted himself closer to her, taking her hands in his. “And I want an answer, maybe not straight away, but you will give me an answer.”

“Oh– okay,” she said.

“And don’t worry, it’s not that question. I’ve only just met you.”

“Oh. Good,” she breathed. “You had me worried for a minute there.”

“Trust me. Yes?” He peered up at her, his eyes intent and narrowed as he curled his hands around her thighs, just above her knees. “Trust me,” he repeated as he pushed up and inside the fabric of her skirt, as he hooked his fingers into the silk of her knickers. “Trust me.”

“Y-yes.”

His gaze still burning upon the hearth of hers, he pulled, dragging his fingers back down their previous path, taking the prized garment with them. He bent, then, carefully lifting her feet one at a time to remove it, and to surreptitiously tuck it away in his jacket pocket.

“Are you ready for the question, now?” He returned his attention back to her, insinuated his hands beneath her skirt once again and squeezed, his palms cupped hard into each muscled side of her bared buttocks.

She squirmed under his touch, braced her hands on his shoulders and threw her head back with a low, deep moan. “Yes.”

He shook her gently. “Look at me.”

She did.

He spoke slowly, dangerously, carefully, his words clear and intent, his meaning echoed by the dance of his fingers between her legs, upon her now bared flesh. “How… do you want me to fuck you, Joline?” he said. “How, when you were making love to your vibrator, ah ah ah, no! Don’t you move….”

“No, you bastard, I – “ She’d tensed up, piqued at the perceived ridicule about her prior admission, about how she’d wanted him so badly that she’d spent hours alone, in her bed, bringing herself to the peak of pleasure by way of a plastic sex toy.

“Shhh, now. I’m not scoffing at you, Joline,” Ansgar soothed her. “I truly want to know.”

She relaxed, and he began his explorations of her most intimate place anew. “I will ask again,” he said. “How, when you were in your bed, with your vibrator, making yourself come, did you imagine me? What was I doing to you? What images did your beautiful mind conjure up to bring you to the peak of pleasure? Did I fuck you slowly, gently? Or was I rough – my hands about your throat, or against the wall?”

She moaned, her eyes clamped shut and her mouth dropped wide open. “Hmmmmm. All of it.”

“Tell me. Be specific.”

“Mmmmm, Ssssgar,” she whined.

“Tell me, Joline. What can I do to bring your fantasies into reality?”

“Just,” she hissed. “Just… touch me. Just touch me.”

“Touch you… like this?” He sat her back down and spread her legs wide, such that they were hanging off the sides of the chair. He drew his long, thin middle finger up between her southern lips, shifting them apart – up up up up to find the pearl at the top, where he pressed gently, circling the tip of his finger over her. “Should I touch you here?”

“Hmmmm hmmm,” she writhed, her hands clamped around the chair edges, her hips thrust forward, pushing herself further into his ministrations. “Yes. Yes, you were… were touching me there. T-touch me there.”

“Or better yet,” Ansgar’s voice cracked with desire. He couldn’t help it. The feel of her, slick and warm and inviting, the scent of her want of him…. oh! As much as he wanted to play the suave, debonair seducer, his want of her threatened to overpower his intellect, cloud his mind. “Or better yet,” he repeated, more smoothly, “in your dreams, was I kissing you here?” He spread his fingers, widening her flesh as he lowered himself to his knees before her. “Were my lips on you, just here? My tongue inside you? My teeth grazing over the centre of your pleasure? Did I… bite?”

“Yessssss,” she hissed. “Bite.”

“Hard?” He snapped his teeth together.

“Yes!”

“Do you want me there now, Joline?” He moved closer to her, and wrapped his arms around her backside. He tipped her forward and situated himself between her legs. “Do you?” He huffed, his nose flared, his breath coming hard and fast in his chest. He licked his lips and sneered, transformed from man to beast in a bespoke suit. “I want this. I want my dessert, and I want it now.”

He didn’t wait. He dug his fingers into her flesh and lifted, bringing her to his mouth. He growled at the first taste of her, his moan deep and long and keening. He ravished her, his tongue working, pressing, curling, pumping inside her, his lips closing tightly around her southern lips. And, as promised, he bit, nipping gently and not so gently at her apex, soothing the flesh with flicks of his tongue, with short bursts of air. He growled as he feasted upon her, lifting himself higher on his knees, bringing her roughly with him so that her shoulders rest upon the chair, her torso suspended high above.

Her arms flailed for a moment before finding Ansgar’s elbows. She clutched to him for dear life as she cried out, as she moaned and writhed and kicked, her Louboutin heels digging roughly into the silk of his Takahashi suit, threatening to tear and rip.

And… she screamed.

“SSSSSSSGGGGGGGGAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!”

All the tension soared from her body in a long exhale. The quake began somewhere behind her bellybutton and rippled outwards, increasing with every pulse. The seismic charges beat through her flesh and then echoed through her bones. Pleasure, absolute, complete and all-consuming rapture ripped through her, fraying her nerves until she felt like a mass of sensation. Nothing more.

Even as Ansgar lowered her back into the seat of the chair, his smug grin glazed with her release, Joline was still in the throes of blissful tremors. Her body thrummed, specks of light and fire pinged along her pores. He was better than her aroused brain conjured on the artificial high of her plastic toy. Silicon couldn’t read her moans and strains like he did to create such a tumultuous response within her.

Ansgar’s fingertips lingered over her sex as the pulsing within her slowed to a stop. His thumb brushed over a decorated piece of flesh along her hip, above her sex, near the crease of her leg. A single pink magnolia graced her skin. He bent into her once more and pressed a kiss to the center of it. While there, he gnashed his teeth into her thigh claiming his territory with a mark.

Above him, the panting woman cried out again wordlessly in pleasure pain, the sting a craving, the heat a base desire, the want of it surprising.

The lion roared back, unfolding himself into his throne. “Another hidden treasure.” His eyes zeroed in on her left hip and the pink petals that colored her skin.

A rare attack of modesty and vulnerability seized her, Joline suddenly adjusted her skirt and shut her legs. She shrugged, her eyes following the grated steel trellis behind his head. “Reminds me of my more feminine side… that I’m a woman.” The shadow of something deeper crossed her face, a hint of something she didn’t want to bring into their night.

“Joline,” he broke into her inner musing, “Make no mistake. You are all woman.” Her eyes finally met his again from the wall behind him, as he shook his head, “It’s a beautiful tattoo but nothing more than a weed compared to the woman who wears it.”

As stealthy and as graceful as a feline, Joline was back in his lap, the demure quiet reflection gone as quickly as it had come. She hiked up her skirt, the material pooled around her hips. Painting her fingers down the length of his face to land on his broad shoulders, she murmured, “You’re surprising.” She nibbled at his bottom lip, tasting a tease of herself there. “I shouldn’t be shocked that you made me come in a restaurant.” She tilted her head to swipe her tongue over his lips, moaning in the process. “I shouldn’t be shocked that you’re not the selfish prick when it comes to sex.” She rolled her hips over him as her teeth grazed the bristles of the goatee on his chin. “But somehow I am.”

“Why is that, do you think?” He smirked for he knew the answer, but he fancied her loose tongue and means of seduction.

“You’re sexier than any man I’ve ever been wi - ever met. If you’re that talented with your tongue…” She hooked her elbow around the back of his neck and yanked him into her hungry mouth. She fed him her tongue and desirous moan, her hips canting slightly below. The furious kiss softened into a sensual dance, his hands scooping her ever closer. “I m-may split in half when you give me your cock and I’ll only beg you to do it again.”

His hands snaked up her body to clutch her head roughly, one hand fisting her hair. “I’m generous for purely selfish reasons. To keep you coming back to my tongue, myfingers, my cock and my bed.”

She whimpered when he bit her neck, not because he hurt, but because she wanted to be devoured by him. One of her hands raked down the expensive threads to reach for the stiff flesh beneath her.

Ansgar shut his eyes, growling lowly at the press of her hand against him. When she caressed the length of him, he swallowed hard, fighting the beastly animal in him to tear into her flesh and seek the end to his torture, to finally sate their craving for each other. A quick fuck on the floor wouldn’t do much to quench his thirst for her. He wanted… no, needed to indulge in her for hours. The anticipation made it all the sweeter when he finally had her.

She nuzzled against his thick neck at the line of his collar, “What details you need,” her hand pumped him, her fist tighter, “I’d rather give you all of them than talk about it. Take me to yours and fuck me into your mattress.

“Fucking Christ…” he exhaled, the suave seducer losing some of the playing field in her offensive.

“Time for my dessert,” she announced with a slight tremor in her voice. She played rough, but she wasn’t immune to her own talk or his. Although she’d had one orgasm, she craved the next and the next and the next after that. She rotated a bit to the table, fetching a sugar ivy leaf from the neglected treat upon the table and smearing it into the red sauce. She brought it towards him. Instead of placing it to his lips, she swiped a slash of rhubarb along his neck.

She was quick to use her tongue and lips to wipe it away again. After her teeth grazed the path, she pressed against his ear, “We could fuck right here.”

“A quick tumble on the floor, Joline? Is that how you want it? Or right here in the chair?”

Comically, Joline reached to the table and grabbed a fingertip full of almond cake to shove into his mouth. “No attitude, Mister patient seducer. Only meant to take the edge off.” She pressed her fingers against his lips, his jaw working to swallow the unexpected piece of dessert. “You brought me to a three hour dinner, burgled my panties, went down on me, made me come, and you could’ve had me in the car.” Her eyes sparkled in her mirth as her mouth grew into a pleasing smile. “You’ve got me at your mercy, maddening bastard.”

#the best intentions

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