#helenapierce

Scream: My character has caused yours to scream out for some reason

He wasn't an assassin by nature, not apt to resorting to stealth. Today, however, he felt playful. Roland experienced a natural high from taking down a group of bandits, unharmed.

The fight lasted for days.

Helena fretted for the Vault Hunter's life, subconsciously gnawing on her lower lip.

His sudden arrival came as a great startle. Calloused fingertips brushed against her hips and she flinched, crying out.

“Helena! It's me.”

That boyish smile relieved her greatly.

“Oh, good heavens... You gave me quite the start.”

A prosthetic hand settled on her chest. She couldn't help but to mirror his subtle grin.

Expecting: Our characters find out they are expecting a child together

For years, Helena Pierce had dreamed of raising a child. Now, that became an alarming possibility. Rather nervously, her hands protected her swollen abdomen. Zed, as of late, had been monitoring her progress. The pseudo-doctor cautioned for her to take it easy, but she couldn't rest.

Not with Roland playing soldier.

When Roland did come home, relief shone in her mismatched eyes, even though her lips were twisted into a frown.

“You're home.”

“'Course I am. You didn't think I'd bite the dust, did you?”

Her smile betrayed her conviction and she glanced away. Roland approached her, refusing to break stride. He wrapped her arm around her waist, his hand settling on top of hers.

“What I'm doing is for you and this lil' guy here.”

He always knew what to say.

Bleed: My character will injure your character

He didn't mean to hurt her.

It was an accident.

Helena refused to listen to him. She was a stubborn woman. He knew that by now.

The palms of his hands were stained red, blood slipping through his fingers. He meant to quell her, sedate her. Instead, he made a blind swipe with his knife. She clutched her stomach, gaping.

“R-Roland...”

His name was the last thing to breeze past her lips.

Shag Me: I’ll write a dirty drabble about our characters.

The cold surface of the desk ground against her rear. Helena winced in discomfort, but the pleasure would eventually outweigh the pain.

Clad in only her underwear, an arm cradled her breasts. Embarrassed, she glanced away. Scarred cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink. She shifted on the desk, felt his large hands graze over the inside of her thighs.

Lips wrapped around flesh, sucking on skin. She felt the prick of his teeth and flinched out of reflex.

Fingers trailed across the fabric of her underwear. Helena was putty in his hands. He shifted his position, standing and sealing his mouth open hers. His lips pried apart her soft, plush ones. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of her underwear, tugging them down.

A prosthetic arm wrapped around his neck, legs weaving around his trim waist. With a gasp, their hips crashed together. He ached—throbbed--with lust.

His mouth traveled to her neck, whispered into her ear: low and hoarse.

“I'm going to fuck you hard, Helena.”

He coaxed out a plethora of moans from her scarred lips, her body arching to draw him deeper.

O Oberon: I’ll write about my character getting angry at yours over something they did.

“Helena, what were you thinking?!” Roland demanded, his tone incredulous. A hand swiped across his chest, his gestures becoming erratic once his voice escalated in volume.

“What other choice did I have, Roland?” She shot back in concern.

As per usual, Pierce stood her ground. Scarred lips curled into a deep scowl.

“You should have stood your ground! The coast was not clear and now you're payin' the price.”

With an exasperated sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Had he only acted quickly enough... Perhaps then, her arm wouldn't be broken.

Busted: Your character will catch mine doing something they shouldn’t.

She thought she was alone, in the safety of her office. The door was closed, presumably lock. Seated in her chair, she leaned back with the softest of sighs. Eyes fluttered shut. Breath slowed down to a crawl.

Trembling fingers fiddled with her belt and slid into her pants. Slender digits roved deeper, caressing her folds. A whimper filled the room once her fingers dove in and out, curling deep inside.

Her throaty cries grew louder. Her hips bucked in an erratic tempo.

As soon as the door cracked open, Helena jumped. Shock tainted her marred features.

“R-Roland...?!”