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poisonedonyx · 8 months

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Azriel x F!Reader | "Apart"

requests are open!!! i also seem to make every character i love a papi, how weird. tw: unedited, angst, cheating, child (4 month old) death, divorce, ooc Azriel(?) wc: 1.7k

It was moments like this that made [YourName] wish her husband didn’t keep her and their daughter a secret, just so she could seek out assistance from friends- friends that had experience with children, but no, she remained in the cabin outside the city with a sobbing daughter in her arms. [YourName] rocked her baby girl, a soft ‘shhh’ escaping her lips trying to comfort her. [YourName] wanted to cry, not only was she shielded away for her safety but her husband was often doing missions for the High Lord and Lady of the court they call home.

A soft ‘it’s okay’ came out of [YourName]’s mouth as she attempted to comfort her daughter once more. The crying little one was red in the face and coughing up a storm when she wasn’t sobbing her little beautiful hazel eyes. She wished her husband was home, but he was also off doing missions for the High Lord and Lady of their court- so she couldn’t just ask for Azriel to come home, he was busy.

That’s what she told herself. She didn’t know what her husband was doing without her around, was he truly working? Was he spending his free time with his found family just in case to throw them off from suspecting he had a wife and daughter? What was so wrong with having a wife and daughter? His found brother had a son and a wife, it wasn’t fair in her eyes to be shielded away. She was fine with it when it was just him and her, but now that it was him, her and their daughter Lynette.

Lynette had finally gone quiet, sniffling to show she was still very much emotional. [YourName] had lived through her pregnancy basically alone in the cabin, but Azriel had returned in time for the birth, but soon after he was once more called back to Rhysand. [YourName] never faltered her High Lord or High Lady for summoning their spymaster for work. But it still stung deep down to know he valued work over her and their daughter. But that was another topic for another time.

This spell of crying and coughing lasted about two more days before things started to fall silent. Eerily silent, [YourName] had grown used to her daughter’s coughing fits or cries for whatever she needed, but now that it was quiet she panicked. She immediately checked on her child and found her breathing in shallow breaths and she had gone even more pale than before. ‘Don’t go to them, it will raise alarms.’ Was what Azriel said when she asked if she could ever seek out her husband’s found family. But those words became distorted when [YourName] had no access to an on sight healer, no husband around, and absolutely no idea what was wrong with her daughter. Now crying, [YourName] shoved her arms through the armholes of her jacket, and covered her daughter up before hitting the streets of Velaris.

She got looks, looks of judgment and looks of worry as she rushed through the streets and knocked on different townhouses to try and find Azriel in one of them. But nothing, it was slowly becoming later and Lynette was starting to shift in and out of sleep. It worried her. She was at the last townhouse and with a weak knock, [YourName] sobbed. She felt hopeless.

She was a new mother with no help, and here she was seeking out the exact people her husband told her to stay away from when she fell pregnant. When the door finally opened to reveal a confused female. The female was slender and had golden brown hair, and to [YourName] she looked like a princess, while to the woman she must have seemed like a mess. “Azriel- I-Is he here?” [YourName] finally mustered out and the woman seemed hesitant to answer the question. “I.. I’m sorry, I’m [YourName], this is Lynette- I need help. I don’t even need to see him, I just need help.” [YourName] explained in a panic, her breaths becoming more rigid as panic started to set into her system. “I see, come, I’ll help.” The slender lady offered, opening the door more for [YourName] to enter the house. “I’m Feyre,” The golden brown haired female offered as she led [YourName] into a hallway of rooms and entered one empty one. “What’s happening?” Feyre asks, “Lynette, she- she’s been crying, coughing, she started not breathing properly.. I just- I don’t know what to do.” the distraught mother says gently, setting her daughter on the bed. Once on the bed, the baby sprawled out. Feyre looked over the baby before calling in a healer and that’s when the news was dropped onto [YourName].

Lynette didn’t have much longer.

After the healer left, Feyre found [YourName] in the rocking chair near the window. She gently rocked her daughter, “How old?” Feyre asked, trying to just create a conversion “Four months..” [YourName] replied before a sob echoed into the room and she held her baby close. “God, and my husband barely knows her.” [YourName] whispered, not expecting Feyre to hear her. “Who is your husband?” Feyre asked, but she was afraid she knew the answer, all [YourName] had to do was look over and look back down at the baby in her arms. “It’s Azriel, isn’t it..?” Feyre asked, [YourName] simply nodded and for once in her life she felt mass amounts of disappointment in Azriel. “I’m so sorry.” Feyre said, for she knew the truth and it seemed as if [YourName] was oblivious to what was happening behind her back. Feyre didn’t want to be the one to break the news to her, but someone had to and before she could, there was a knock at the door.

“Feyre? Rhysand asked to- woah! Random lady and child in the house.” Cassian said, already sensing the bad mood and trying to lift it. Feyre shook her head, “This is [YourName] and Lynette, they need to speak to Azriel.” She explained trying to get the female to her husband so she could at least break the news that their daughter was dying and there was absolutely nothing they could do- at least according to the healer.

“Az? He’s with Elain right now, we all know what's going on.” Cassian chuckled, but Feyre’s face fell into disgust. Not just because Elain was his sister but because Azriel was actively cheating on his grieving wife. “No, Cassian, this is his wife and child, tell him it's urgent.” Feyre said dropping the wife-and-child bomb on Cassian. Cassian simply jutted out his face and gave a look of pure confusion. “I know, I know.” The High Lady said, shaking her head. [YourName] just had to sit there and listen, “He.. found someone else, didn’t he?” [YourName] asks Feyre and in return Feyre says nothing- which just confirms her suspicions. She felt sick, she felt weak, she just bit back the tears and gently drew her thumb against her daughter’s cheek, just trying to seek comfort. She couldn’t win this battle, she should have known once she fell pregnant that things were going to be different- she no longer could provide for him so he sought it out in another woman. Soon, Azriel had walked into the room and his hazel eyes widened in a panic. “[YourName]?” Azriel asked in shock, but before anything could be said. Either it be scolding or worry, [YourName] cut him off, “Lynette is dying, she’s dying and she hardly knows who her father is.” [YourName] announced. Azriel went silent “I’ve had to protect my family-” he said, trying to argue back but all [YourName] did was cry out of frustration. “Azriel, yes, they are your family but so is Lynette. If you truly, truly no longer saw me as a potential match- you should have asked for a divorce the day I announced I was pregnant.” [YourName] scoffed.

“I’ve picked up on the hints, High Lady’s sister? Are.. Are you kidding me?” [YourName] asked “I don’t even fault her for it! She probably has no idea who I am, who Lynette is- because you’re not proud of what we created.” the female pushed on. “It’s not like that-” Azriel had began “Then what the hell is it like!?” [YourName] asked, shoving her husband aside and going to exit the room. Her daughter still cuddled up to her chest.

Feyre, who had exited the room to give Azriel and [YourName] space to talk, watched from the living room with Rhysand. “I would have never thought in my years of living that Azriel would.. Could keep this information from us.” Rhysand said, hearing the door shut loudly signaling [YourName] had left the townhouse. “I need to talk to my sister.” Feyre mumbled, pushing off her husband and heading to find Elain.

It wouldn’t even be a week later that little Lynette passed on and was laid to rest. Azriel had returned home and spent the last few days with Lynette, but nothing could make up for lost time. When the burial had come for the child, [YourName] dressed in black and watched as they lowered the baby-sized coffin into the ground while Azriel stood next to her. After throwing some dirt and flowers into the hole, [YourName] broke down crying when they finally finished. But not once did she lean on to Azriel for support. When the couple returned to the cabin Azriel spoke up, “Feyre and Rhysand asked about-” he began but would be cut off “I want a divorce.” [YourName] said with a coldness to her words. [YourName] didn’t even look in the direction of her soon-to-be ex. “What?” Azriel asked, he couldn’t lose her- not when they both were in mourning, not when Rhysand had dismissed him to properly grieve his daughter, not when they truly needed each other. “I. Want. A. Divorce.” [YourName] repeated, “Don’t you hear the words coming out my mouth? You messed up, I thought you were working but you were sleeping with another woman! You let me take care of our sick daughter alone because you wanted to sleep with someone else. Do you know how fucked that is, Azriel?!” the female said, shaking her head in disappointment. “I will be seeing a lawyer soon about it, and you will be getting papers in the mail, now go. Home.” [YourName] said simply.

The bedroom door slammed and Azrie felt a pit in his stomach start to suffocate him. He had done this, he had messed up, he was the reason they had fallen apart.

#dividers; cozypupluv #a court of thorns and roses x reader #acotar x reader #aziriel x reader #acotar azriel x reader

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restinslices · 10 months

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Liar Pt2

Me finally writing the part 2?! Wow! So this part is honestly filler. It's Matthias being in his own head and meeting Nina, who will become an ally. Imma be real, nothing happens BUT LISTEN- it's setting shit up. Have faith. Enjoy his mental crisis. Druskelle!Matthias Helvar x Heartrender!Wife!Reader (she does not make an apperance-) Word Count: 2059 Summary: Ever since you've left, Matthias has had conflicting thoughts about your relationship and it's driving him insane, but an unlikely friend makes him realize not all hope is lost. Y/N - Your Name D/N - Daughter Name Link to part 1

(Lowkey should've used this gif for part 1 and part1's for this, but rip)

“Dear my love and life,

I don’t know what to say. Maybe I should say sorry again for the whatever thousandth time. I never know how to start these, so I always say I’m sorry. I wish Djel gave me the power to go back in time and fix the mistakes I’ve made. I wish I could go back and hug you when you told me about you being Grisha, instead of pushing you away. I wish I would’ve held you and told you I’d forever love you instead of calling you a witch. I wish when I woke up, I had my wife beside me and my daughter in the room next to ours. I have lots of wishes, and since I can’t change the past, I have a wish that’s selfish and cruel.

I wish you both were dead. I wish that the Druskelle had found and killed you two, or all of you instead of just Elise and Erik.

I know I sound terrible, but not knowing where you are or how you are hurts more than you two being dead. I wish that one day, I’m sitting at home and someone comes in to say they found and killed you both.

Am I a bad person for thinking this? I’ve heard rumors about other countries. I’ve heard Ravka trains their children for war. I’ve heard Shu Han does terrible experiments on Grisha. I’ve heard in The Wandering Isle that the Kaelish kill Grisha so they can drink their blood. I’ve heard in Kerch, Grisha are put under contracts and basically become slaves. I’d rather you be dead than go through any of that.

My love, you remember the day I proposed to you. I know you do. What you don’t know is that the night before I did so, I sat outside for hours. I couldn’t possibly sleep when I was terrified about what I was gonna do. I saw a star that shined brighter than the others, and for some reason, I thought it could be Djel watching over me. I prayed and begged Djel to convince you to say yes, and you did.

Maybe that’s what I’m doing wrong. Maybe I’m too busy wishing, instead of praying, but I haven’t felt like praying in so long. Maybe if I find that star again, he’ll hear me better like he did the first time. Maybe I’ll get another chance and we’ll all run away. Maybe-”

“Anything going on up there?” the Grisha woman asked.

Matthias found himself writing a lot since you left. Not in some diary though. He’d write letters to you and his daughter, then throw them in the fireplace and watch it be engulfed in flames.

At first the letters were angry and full of betrayal. You lied to him for years. You used him. That’s what he thought at first.

It had been days and you hadn’t been caught. He happened to have paper and ink around him, so he wrote this letter filled with insults, profanities and accusations, then he threw it in the fireplace. Although he wrote all this down, about how you were a liar and a witch, he didn’t go with the druskelle to try and capture you. Others assumed that your “witchcraft” made him still feel sick, but in reality, Matthias knew deep down that if he saw you he wouldn’t be able to take the shot. He would’ve been expected to either kill or capture his ex wife and child and he knew he couldn't. You were his love, and once your daughter was born, you both promised each other to make her number one in your lives. You’d raise her with love and guidance and make sure she never knew a lonely day. You even promised each other that if one was to die, the other had to keep going everyday even if they didn’t want to. You both promised to make her your whole life. Now he was expected to forget all about that. He wanted to forget all about you, but he couldn’t.

His letters went from angry to pleading. Sometimes his letters would be destroyed by his own tears before it even reached the fire. This especially happened whenever an important date passed, like your daughter’s birthday. It hit him hard then. The loneliness became more apparent. Matthias had quit being a Druskelle, telling Brum some bullshit about how his head still didn’t feel right and he didn’t want to mess something up. In reality, being a Druskelle didn’t feel right anymore. His brothers gave him sympathy, saying you were evil and he was strong for realizing this and breaking out of your spell, but it didn’t make sense. When people look back at their memories with a manipulator or abuser, they notice signs. They see things they didn’t see before. And while Matthias did indeed notice signs that you were Grisha, he didn’t see any signs of evil.

Matthias knew you even before his family was killed, and you stood by him as he mourned. You stayed even when he was sure you’d leave. How could you possibly be evil? It didn’t make sense.

Matthias doesn’t know why he accepted Brum’s offer to go on another exploration. Maybe it was loneliness. He had practically isolated himself for two years. No more you. No more D/N. No more brotherhood.

Or maybe he was hoping somehow they’d find you and he’d be able to escape with you.

Either way, he accepted. A mistake.

The boat ended up sinking and Matthias was sure he’d die, until he suddenly felt his heart speeding up in his chest. When he came to, he realized one of the Grisha, a heartrender with brown hair and a smart mouth, had saved him. Granted, it was just so he could push them to shore, but at least he was breathing.

They found a hut, slept by each other, and that’s when he realized two things.

Number one, your wedding ring, which he always kept in his pocket, was gone.

Number two, when the woman sped his heart up so he stayed warm, it felt familiar. It was how he felt when he laid next to you. He always assumed that maybe his heart beat so fast because being near you was the greatest honor and he hadn’t gotten used to it. He’d still say that was true, but the reality was that you used your power to keep him warm every single night. If he hadn’t been around someone, he might’ve cried.

He heard fingers snapping next to his ear. “Druskelle? Anyone up there?”.

Matthias blinked hard to snap himself out of his thoughts, then cleared his throat. His eyes had been on the fire in front of him the whole time, as if he could burn his letter like he usually did. He looked to the side as the woman sat next to him. He couldn’t even remember what they were talking about.

It was as if she read his mind since next she said, “you were telling me all about Fjerdan woman then you stopped. Hoping one appears?”.

“Yes” he answered without thinking.

~~~

Matthias refused to answer any of her questions. In all honesty, she was annoying him. She was incredibly nosey and kept insisting they were lost, but they couldn’t have been lost because Druskelle didn’t get lost! All trees look the same! Rocks look the same! A certain patch of snow looked the same as other patches of snow!

They were lost. Dammit.

Matthias sat on a big rock with a flat top in defeat. What good was being alive if they were just gonna freeze to death?

The woman sat next to him, “I’m gonna ask a few questions if you don’t mind”.

“I do mind”.

“What’s your name? I like ‘Dumb Druskelle’ but surely you were born with something else. Todd? A Kevin maybe? James?”. Matthias hated she gave the same comfort a friend would. It was strange. He didn’t know her, but he had been so lonely that he enjoyed having someone else near. And if he was gonna die, he wouldn’t mind dying with someone else.

Although Matthias was silent, she kept going. “Who’s back home for you?”.

“No one” he thought.

The woman pulled something out of one of her pockets and presented it to him. It was your wedding ring, the one he thought probably sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Before he could speak she said “I grabbed it before it sunk too far. Figured I could use it as leverage to make you get us to shore, but you agreed before I could”. Matthias took it and since no one he knew was around, he put it back on.

Some people prefer the feeling of a weight lifting off of them, but he preferred the weight the ring added to his finger even if it wasn’t that huge of a change. The woman was still looking at him then he had an idea. If she was Ravkan and you ran there, maybe she knew you! He asked her if he knew a woman fitting your description with a child that had recently came to Ravka. When she said she was usually in and out of the palace, but had gotten a letter from a friend who mentioned a new Grisha with a child he felt conflicted. On one hand, this could’ve been you and this meant you were safe. On the other hand, this meant his daughter was probably being trained to become a soldier for whatever other war Ravka would join.

She made a sarcastic remark, asking if he had been hunting this woman also and she happened to get away. He spilled his guts then. He told her everything. How you met, how you were always there for him, how you fell in love, your marriage, your child, the incident, him turning on you. All of it. It felt amazing to say out loud to someone else.

“You had an incredible wife but chased her and your child away? Remember when I said there was a brain inside all that muscle? I lied”. He didn’t argue. What was the point? “What would you do if you managed to see her or your child again?”.

He thought about this every night and he still didn’t know. He’d apologize but what then? Let you go? Beg for another chance? What if you had met someone else by now? “I don’t know” he answered honestly “but I’d beg for as long as she wanted me to”.

“You do realize that you were gonna kill more Grisha on that boat right?”

“You would go on trial”

“Your trials are a sham, we’ve been over this. The loneliness won’t end by becoming a Druskelle again. You and I both know it”. Matthias went quiet again as he thought. He hated she was nosey, he hated that everything that came out her mouth was sarcastic or said with an attitude, but more importantly

He hated she was right.

“I have known one way my entire life. I don’t know how to be anything else. I… I don’t know if I can be better”.

“It’s possible” she said. She stood and moved so she was in his view. “Get on your feet-”. It all happened so quick then. She backed up, then all Matthias heard was the ground crumbling and her screams. He dived down, catching her hands.

She pleaded for Matthias to pull her up and for a split second, he thought he’d let her fall.

He refused to turn his back on anyone else though.

He pulled her up and let her catch her breath on the ground. After a few seconds, he stood with his hand outstretched, “Matthias… Helvar”.

She took his hand and let him help her to her feet. “Nina Zenik. Nice to make your acquaintance”. Matthias draped one of the fur coverings he was wearing on her shoulders then they started walking again.

“You saved my life”

“I put you in chains. It was the least I could do”.

“That’s all very true, but I was going to say something before I fell”. Nina grabbed his arm, making him stop and look at her.

“I’m going to help you find your family”.

A/N: I need to stop deciding to write at 11pm-. Anyway, did anything really happen this part? No. Lowkey this should say part 1.5 but that looks ugly so here we are. I will not procrastinate for another two months, I promise. Also I remembered that Matthias is 18 and ya'll kid is 10, so uhhh let's say the kid is 6 and ya'll are mid twenties. Imma edit the last part too, don't even worry. I think part 3 will be the last part unless I decide it's too long and split it. Taglist: @luvrrish @katie-the-bookworm @favouritefeverdream (Idk if you wanted to be tagged, but you commented so imma do it anyway)

#matthias helvar x reader #matthias helvar x you #matthias helvar x y/n #matthias helvar #matthias helvar oneshot #shadow and bone #shadow and bone oneshot #shadow and bone imagine #matthias helvar imagine #six of crows #grishaverse #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows x reader #i am so down bad for him

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classicschronicles · 2 months

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Hi lovelies,

I feel like I’ve just returned from ‘buying the milk’. I’m sorry I disappeared for *checks notes* 11 months, but it’s been a hectic year. I feel like if I get into it I’ll sound like an AO3 author, so here are some very quick highlights- I have just finished my first year studying Classics at university, I qualified as a fitness instructor (which is a side quest nobody asked for), I’ve become a theatre kid again, and I finally watched Game of Thrones. Studying Classics at uni is basically telling everyone that you study Classics at uni and then getting one of two reactions- “What is that? What kind of job are you going to et with that?”. To which I have no response, because honestly I’m not sure. Or the ever famous- “Oh like The Secret History?”. To which I cry inside because it is nothing like The Secret History. It is actually reading so much Thucydides that he becomes your sleep paralysis demon, and having to translate so much Caesar and Cicero that your daydreams become wishing you were in the Theatre of Pompey on March 15th 44 BC… for no particular reason. And also crying at 3am whilst you try to delude yourself into thinking that this is so dark academia core (spoiler- it’s not). All that being said- this has actually been one of the best years of my life and I am so happy I get to study what I love.

Anyways, I feel like we’re missing the most important part- and that is of course Game of Thrones. Guys. I have a crush on Jaime Lannister. HEAR ME OUT! I can fix him! I promise. I just need one chance. But also, I would fight him because why did he do my girl Brienne like that. Anyone who makes her cry can fight me fr. You know what made me cry though- Shireen Baratheon. What the fuck was that. And Ser Davaos’ finding out and his whole “I loved that girl like she was my own”. BAWLED. Anyways, it might surprise you to know that her death was actually based on a very famous greek myth- the myth of Iphigenia. So that’s what we’re going to talk about today.

Iphigenia’s story finds its beginnings in another myth entirely- the myth of Agamemnon and the Deer. Quick fun fact- the movie ‘Killing of A Sacred Deer’ is actually based loosely on this. The story goes that Agamemnon, out hunting one day, killed a deer belonging to the Goddess Artemis. This angered Artemis, not least because the deer was pregnant and Agamemnon’s little hunting accident killed both the mother and the baby.

Fast forward to some time later, Agamemnon launches a thousand ships to save his sister-in-law Helen from the Trojans at the behest of his brother Menelaus, and also the whole blood oath situation. The Spartans and the Mycenaeans make camp at the island of Aulis whilst they wait for the rest of the fleet to arrive, only to find that when they are ready to set sail once more, they cannot leave the island. There is not wind to push their ships, the air hot and heavy and remarkably still. This goes on for quite some time. Eventually Agamemnon consults the priest Calchas who tells him that the Gods (Artemis) are angry with him and demand a sacrifice. More specifically, the sacrifice of a virgin. This is also where some accounts differ- some claim that it could be any female virgin, some say that it had to be Agamemnon’s eldest daughter. In all honesty, I think the latter is probably more accurate because of the level of hesitation he shows before he makes his final decision. If he could sacrifice any virgin I don’t really think he would care.

Anyways, he obviously cant just write to his wife and say “hey babe can you please ship our eldest daughter over, I want to sacrifice her xoxo”. So he instead he comes out with an altogether more devious plan, and that is to tell his wife that the Prince Achilles wishes to marry Iphigenia before they sail for Troy. Both Iphigenia and Clytemnestra are of course overjoyed that she should marry ‘the best of the Greeks’ and she comes to Aulis where the army wait for her.

This is where it starts to break my heart a bit. On the morning of Iphigenia’s wedding day, Clytemnestra dresses her daughter and prepares her. She, of course, does not know that she is preparing her child for death. Her fathers men come to her tent and escort her and her mother to the alter. However, she never gets to say her vows because as soon as she steps onto the platform, they cut her throat and spill her blood as an offering to Artemis. Her mother is of course beside herself with shock and grief, but her husband does little to comfort her, telling her only that Artemis is appeased, and with the return of the wind he is leaving for Troy.

Euripides’ Iphigenia at Aulis, differs from this account and tells the story that on the morning of her supposed wedding, Iphigenia was aware of her fathers plan to sacrifice her and accepts with stoicism and all the bravery of a child put in an impossible position. He writes the following, heartbreaking, lines:

Iphigenia- “If only I could sing like Orpheus, father! Orpheus, who could charm even the heartless rocks into following him! If I could use such a voice and have everyone charmed, have them convinced to agree with me and follow me, then I would use that voice. But I have no such skill. The only voice I have, father, my only skill, is in my tears and, here, father, I’m giving them to you! I’m giving you my tears! I’m giving you all I have! She leans before him and embraces his knees Here, father, here is the body of a suppliant! Here is the body that your wife has given birth to. I wrap its limbs around your knees and beg you: Please father, do not cut off my life short. Let me enjoy the sweet light of day and do not force me to enter the world beneath the earth. I’m your first one, father! The first one to call you father, the first one you called daughter. Me, father! I was the first to play on your knees, the first one of your children to enjoy your love and the first one to give you a child’s love. Remember, father? You used to ask me, “I wonder, my darling, will I get to see you married one day, married and settled happily in your husband’s home, your life ever blossoming, making me proud of you?” And I’d touch your chin, my father, hang from your beard, father, like I’m doing now and say, “and what about you, father, will I get to see you, father, an old man, visiting me at my house, ready for me to repay you for your hard work in raising me?” No, you don’t remember these words, father. I do but you don’t! You’ve forgotten them and so, now, you want to kill me. Please, father! Please, in the name of Pelops and of Atreus who is your father, I beg you! Please don’t do it! And I beg you also for my mother’s sake, the woman who laboured to bring me to life, the woman who is being tortured even now. I beg you, father! What does my life have to do with the marriage of Paris and Helen father? Why has their marriage brought about my death, father? Agamemnon turns away. She continues despondently. Come, then, father, turn to me and give me a final kiss. A kiss to remember you by in the underworld, since my words have not convinced you. Agamemnon does not move. She goes over to her mother and takes baby Orestes in her arms. She swings him, sadly, gently back and forth and leans over him as she speaks to him What a weak little helper you are, my tiny brother! Won’t you cry with me, Orestes? Come on, won’t you beg your father not to kill your big sister? Come on, Orestes, even babies know when there’s trouble around! Ha! See, father? Orestes is begging you, too! Begging you by his silence. Do you not care about me any more? Spare my young life, father. Spare me! Here! Look here, father! Here are the two of us, one’s a baby, the other a grown up girl, a brother and a sister, both your children, begging you, by your beard, pleading with you… She turns and looks sadly around her, then up at the sun. That! Up there is my final argument. That light, this light all around us, will cut all other arguments to pieces. This light is the sweetest thing that can fill the eyes! The world beneath the earth is a world of nothing. Only fools would pray to go down there. I’d rather live a life full of misery than die a hero’s death!

If that doesn’t make you cry I don’t know what will. And then to top it off he follows it up 200 lines later this this tear jerker:

“C- What report shall I give to your sisters?

I-Do not dress them either in black garments.

C-Is there any word of love from you I should give the girls?

I-Bid them farewell; and make sure you bring up Orestes as a man!

C-You look at him for the last time- hold him tight!

I-(holding Orestes close): Darling boy, you helped you dear sister as much as you could!

…

I-Who will come to take me there before they drag me by the hair?

C-I will be at your side…

I-No, not you- that would not be right!

C-…holding on to your clothes!

I-Mother, oblige me in this: stay here! This is the nobler course for me and for you. Let one of my father’s attendants here escort to Artemis’ meadow where I shall be sacrificed.

(Iphigenia begins to move away from a crying Clytemnestra)

C-O my child, are you going?

I-Yes, and never shall I come back.

C-You will leave your mother?

I-Yes, as you see, we do not deserve this.

C-Wait- don’t abandon me!

I-I forbid you to shed tears. (C sinks to the ground)”.

In every version you read, however, sacrificing his daughter is not a choice that Agamemnon takes lightly. He is torn between sacrificing his daughter and angering his wife- but winning glory for the Greeks, or saving his daughter, but abandoning his men. As a father, he made the wrong choice, but as a king some would argue that he did what was expected of him.

I do like, however, in Euripides’ version the character of Achilles. He is adamant that he will not be privy to the murder of Iphigenia. He tries so very hard to save her and to offer comfort to Clytemnestra and genuinely I think that this might be one of the loveliest most favourable depictions of him.

This myth then gives way to part of the Oresteia trilogy and many many retellings of her Iphigenia’s story- every single one of which always make me want to cry. I can’t explain what it is- I know that the whole point of tragedy is that build up and release of emotion but no tragedy has every made me actually sad other than Iphigenia at Aulis.

Anyways, you can imagine my absolute horror when I watched S5 EP9 and saw Shireen tied to the alter, literally gave myself whiplash with how quickly I tried to look away from the screen.

I would say I hope you enjoyed reading about Iphigenia, but if you did you’re an absolute psycho! The two translations I used are from PoetryInTranlsation and Penguin’s 2005 edition “The Bacchae and Other Plays”. Hopefully, now that I’ve posted again I’ll try and be more regular with it and I hope you all have a lovely lovely week <33

#classical studies #classics #dark acamedia #greek mythology #ancient rome #iphigenia #agamemnon #achilles #helen of troy #trojan war #the iliad #euripides #game of thrones #shireen baratheon #ser davos seaworth #jaime lannister #artemis

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k-evans-reads · 2 years

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In Living Color

Chapter 10 - Part Two

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 6,819

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Smut.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

July 2021

There was a dull ache in Nat’s body as she slowly awoke, stretching out her limbs to take away that pain from how she’d been curled up in bed. Once she was comfortable, her eyelids slowly fluttered open and she saw the surroundings of the white bedroom, immediately reminding her where she was and at that one thought, a smile appeared on her lips.

It wasn’t the first time she’d woken up in his bed, seeing that stunning view of the California hills out his window, but it was the first time that she was completely comfortable being here and her smile only grew when she turned to look at the sleeping figure next to her. Chris’ long eyelashes were resting against his cheek while his mouth had fallen open and he was snoring softly. One arm was splayed out next to him while the other rested on his bare tattoo covered chest. Nat wanted nothing more than to just touch him, to confirm to herself that this was real and he finally was back with her, and when he stirred in his sleep, she got the chance to do just that.

Knowing that he was drifting in and out of sleep allowed her to scoot her body right up next to him, wrapping her arms around his thick middle while he just lazily hummed, not even opening his eyes while he immediately let his arms come to hold her and his face nuzzled against her messy curls. Nat just laid there, breathing in his scent as she told herself just how real this was and that the months of being apart were finally over.

It was almost funny, if she thought about it long enough. Finding it comical that she was technically in the home of one of the biggest movie stars in the country with his arms wrapped around her. But somehow to Nat, she couldn’t seem to find it in herself that it was true because to her, he was just Chris… that wonderful heart of gold man who laughed over chips and salsa with her. He had become so much more to her that she could have even imagined months ago. He had basically become her best friend and that made moments like this so much better than she could have ever dreamed.

His voice was raspy with sleep and low when he finally murmured, “Hi Nattie.” His face was still buried in her hair, but his fingers were moving against her sides, dancing over the bare skin there.

She smiled, eyes following him when he moved his face out of her hair. His blue eyes were hazy in the early light as he yawned, then smiled at her while she whispered, “Morning baby.”

“I sure do like waking up and seeing you right here by me,” he murmured, a dopey smile on his face that she knew he’d deny anytime she brought it up.

“Good, because I’m planning on staying here,” she told him.

She felt Chris’ hand move underneath her chin, gently tilting it up so he could lean down and kiss her softly. Nat loved the slow way he was kissing her, showing that he wasn’t in a hurry, both of them finally having all the time in the world and soaking up every bit of it. Every bit of her body felt good, curled up against him in that soft white bed while his lips caressed hers in the most perfect way.

“I didn’t get a chance,” Chris stopped, leaning his lips down to kiss at her bare shoulder before finishing, “to see your tattoos last night.”

She laughed, her hand moving to the back of his head. She found herself wishing for it to be longer again and looked forward to when it’d grow in again, no longer resembling the aftermath of the Lloyd styling. “Well considering I pretty much haven’t had clothes on since I got to your house last night, I’d say you had plenty of chances,” she smirked.

“I was kind of focused on something else.”

“Oh really? What might that have been?”

“Something I plan on doing a lot more this weekend,” he whispered, nipping at the juncture of her shoulder and neck. “But I’m serious Nattie, I want you to show me.”

“I have this one on my shoulder,” she began, turning slightly to show him the tattoo on her back. “It says ‘Sisters’ in Hungarian. Heather, Alex and I all have it.”

Chris nodded before his hand moved to her ribs, curling around the side of her body near her arm. “What about this one?”

“Oh god, that one is so stupid. I was twenty and wanted a tattoo and apparently all I could think of getting was an airplane because I wanted to travel the world,” she huffed, shaking her head at how ridiculous it was.

“It looks like a painful spot to get it,” Chris whispered, his fingers tracing the delicate outline of the plane.

“I don’t know, I was drunk,” she shrugged.

His lips twitched as he huffed out a laugh before he yawned, then offered, “If you want to get it removed, I have a good person I go to.”

“Honestly it doesn’t show much so it doesn’t really bother me,” she explained, pushing her unruly hair back behind her shoulders. “I had an appointment to get one on my hip but then COVID happened so that one hasn’t happened yet.”

Chris nodded, nothing but complete understanding in his eyes as he spoke, “I love it. I just love art on our bodies, I think it’s such a beautiful thing.”

Nat smiled as she listened to him, before she bit her lip and told him, “I want to finally have a good look at all of yours.”

Chris was eager to share, pulling the blanket down off of his torso to show Nat each and every black line that littered his body, explaining the significance of each one. But somehow through it, she found herself listening less to the explanations, and seeing more the passion and joy that came through as he spoke. It was one of the many things she was crazy about with him, just loving how sensitive and passionate he was about specific things in his life, and it made her blush to think that she might become one of those things.

At the lull in the conversation, Chris glanced over his shoulder at where Dodger was snoring happily on the couch against the far wall. “Are you hungry? I’d love to take you out for breakfast,” he finally asked her.

Nat shrugged, knowing it probably wasn’t the best idea, especially in the aftermath of last month’s blow up. “We could just make some breakfast here and stay in,” she suggested.

He frowned, voice quiet as he reminded her, “I don’t have any groceries here.”

“Yeah you do,” she smiled sheepishly and shrugged at his curious look. “I went shopping the other day and got you some things. I figured you’d be tired coming back here and wouldn’t feel like getting groceries.”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

“Oh I don’t joke about ice cream, Chris. You should know this by now,” she told him, her voice dry as she smirked.

Nat loved watching the way his eyes scrunched up as he barked out that infectious laugh, but that laugh was replaced with a soft smile and a tender look in his eyes once they had pulled on some comfortable clothes and made it to the kitchen and he finally got to see just how much she’d filled his kitchen with so many of the things she knew that he loved. Without saying a word, he just walked over to her, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her tight against his chest, kissing her temple as he mumbled, “Thank you, Nattie.”

She wanted to stay in this bubble for the rest of her life, just here with him, no responsibilities or outside voices echoing in their minds. It was almost comical how easily they fell into step with each other, making and eating breakfast side by side until Dodger wandered out of the bedroom and Chris grabbed his leash to go on a quick walk. She cleaned up and headed into the laundry room, finding his bags from Scott, and started a load of his laundry.

They spent the rest of the morning enjoying each other but doing their own things, Nat drawing on the couch while watching The Office while Chris answered some emails and then ended up on the piano, until he wandered back over and laid down next to her with a deep yawn.

She looked over at him, smiling as she saw his arm slung over her hips from where he laid between the back cushion of the overstuffed couch and herself. “I’m sure you’re probably so tired,” she murmured, moving a hand to run through his dark hair as his eyes slipped shut for a moment.

His eyes opened as he frowned at himself and sighed, “I thought I shook most of my jetlag the past few days in Boston but I guess not.”

“Why don’t you take a nap?” She asked him quietly.

He nodded, yawning as he shrugged, “I might,” and despite the lack of commitment in his phrasing, she knew he’d be asleep within seconds.

And she was right, smirking to herself when she heard – and felt – his breathing even out as he slipped to sleep next to her. She lost track of time, moving from piece to piece as she drew on her iPad, half-watched the marathon of The Office, and listened to his soft snores, chuckling to herself as Dodger joined in from his spot on his own bed.

Nat felt his arm twitch against her, and with a quick glance at the time, she realized it’d been almost two hours since he fell asleep next to her. His breaths were still deeper than normal and his eyes were still shut, but his arm tightened around her.

“I take it someone’s awake,” she whispered, smiling when his eyes opened and found her immediately, his lips turning into a half-grin before he moved a hand to rub his eyes. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Mhmm,” he yawned, before he leaned up and pressed his lips to her cheek before moving down to press them to her neck.

“Chris! Don’t mess up my drawing!”

He smirked against her chin, his voice low as he informed her, “I’m not messing it up, I’m just kissing you. You’re the one drawing.”

“Well, you’re making me mess up,” she sighed, but smiled to herself as he kept up with the kisses, then met his eyes as he raised a single brow at her. “Why don’t you go back to sleep instead of wreaking havoc on my art?”

“It’s kind of hard to think about sleep when you’re lying here looking so fuckin’ good in my shirt,” he shrugged, arm tightening around her hip minutely.

“Oh is that so?”

“Yes that’s so.”

He proved his point by bringing his lips to kiss her sweetly while his hand rested on her bare thigh, following her skin up and slipping underneath the white tee shirt that hung loosely on her frame. Nat felt his big palm rest on her waist, holding her in place while he started kissing her deeper.

He gently plucked the iPad from her hands, placing it on the side table behind the arm of the couch before he shifted them so he was laying farther up the couch on his side, hovering over her while Nat was on her back below him.

As if Chris wasn’t attracted to her enough, seeing that white tee shirt of his had almost a primal feeling running through him. He loved seeing that piece of fabric that signified that she was his and he was the only one seeing her wearing it with her pink rosy nipples pressing against the thin fabric as she called out his name. Although Nat didn’t know any of those thoughts were running through his brain at the moment, she could tell by the way his hands were rubbing across her, the soft tee shirt being the only thing separating his hands from her skin, that he liked that shirt on her and she knew it wouldn’t be the only time she was in it.

Nat leaned her head back, opening up her neck for his lips to attach to as his hand slipped underneath that shirt and she finally felt his touch rubbing along her skin. She couldn’t get enough of the feeling of his hands rubbing along her skin, toying with her nipples and absolutely driving her wild. That mixed with the little bites and sucks he was littering along her neck had her eyelids fluttering closed as she sighed softly.

But Chris seemed to want more than that, his hand starting to travel south and grabbed the waistband of her panties and worked on peeling them down her long legs. She pulled her knees up, letting him get them off and tossed onto the floor without pulling his lips away from her skin. Nat knew what he was doing and laid down one leg on the comfortable couch while the other lazily rested against his body, helping to open herself up to him.

She could feel herself clenching from just the feeling of his big hand cupping her for a long moment, just feeling her in his hand while he moved his lips to kiss along her jaw. Nat was already so turned on for him, but when his index finger pushed between her folds and traced along the length of her wet core, she was shivering in his arms as she whimpered his name.

“I want to learn all the things you like, Nattie,” he told her, his low voice sending a shiver down her spine. “I want to know every spot that drives you wild.”

Nat’s chest was already heaving as his finger just kept teasing her, rubbing gently along her core and learning the feel of her. She instinctively grabbed onto his forearm, just needing something to hold and felt his firm muscles move as he kept teasing her. All of it just felt so good from his warm body pressed against her side, his low voice crooning in her ear and having his loving touch on every inch of her body.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, baby,” he murmured, almost chuckling at the end as she gasped.

But there was a good reason she was gasping as he pushed a finger inside of her before adding a second only a few moments later before he slowly stroked her, causing Nat to let out a strangled, “Oh fuck, Chris.”

“You like that? Is that a good spot, Nattie?”

“Y-Yes, right there,” she encouraged, head falling back against the couch as her eyes slipped shut. “Go faster.”

He huffed out a laugh, his head dipping to press nipping kisses to her neck before murmuring, “Anything my girl wants.”

She could feel her whole body tightening, getting pent up from just how good this felt. It wasn’t as if it was the first time she had been thinking of Chris with her fingers inside herself, even having his voice talking her through it a few times, but this was so much better. She actually got him and nothing was better than that.

“Remember when you touched yourself for me?” He suddenly spoke, reminding her of that phone call in June. “I remember hearing you moan and wishing I got to see your face but now I get to.”

But Nat couldn’t respond to that, she was too busy focusing on the pleasure running through her, feeling every sense in her body heightened. It wasn’t just what his fingers were doing that was driving her wild though. It was him and all he meant to her. He had become her best friend over the past few months, learning everything about her and seeming to just… enjoy her. It was something brand new to her, never having experienced anything even close to that before with a partner and it had made her feel wanted, accepted and just plain liked.

She felt as if everytime he picked up that phone, he had wanted to talk to her. He valued her thoughts and opinions when he’d asked her questions and was genuinely interested in what was going on in her life, loving every little story she told about her nieces or when she gushed about the new gouache paint color she’d gotten that was just perfect. He cared about her in every sense of the word and she knew it, she felt it from him. But this was that last piece, getting to physically be together that was driving her over the edge and making her feel like she was on cloud nine.

“I missed you so damn much, Nattie. I thought of you so many nights when I was alone,” he murmured just before he nipped at her neck and moved to press his lips to hers for a momentary, deep kiss, then pulled back. “So fuckin’ happy I’m back here with you.”

And as if she wasn’t already wanting every single thing he was giving her, that only made her even more weak at the knees. Nat wanted to tell him she felt the same, but no words came out of her mouth, only a loud cry of pleasure as he kept his fingers rubbing oh so perfectly against her.

“Chris, please,” she gasped, nails digging into his forearm helplessly.

“Tell me what you want,” he encouraged, voice softer than it had been.

And although she couldn’t muster the strength to tell him, she grabbed his hand and moved it up where she wanted it, giving Chris the hint while his soaked finger started rubbing circles along that sensitive button. Instantly Nat’s head tipped back farther into the couch pillow, her back arching as she ached for more friction, telling him, “A little harder.”

Chris did exactly as she said, pushing just a little bit harder as he rubbed those circles that had Nat moaning out obscenely. He loved getting to learn her, wanting to be able to know what she liked as if it was the back of his hand but it didn’t take a lot of brain power to figure out that this must have been pretty high on the list for her judging by the way she kept spreading her legs and crying out his name over and over again. He kept up his movements, not changing one thing as he kept his face away from hers, dying to kiss her but needing to be able to see her face when she hit that peak which happened sooner than he thought as her eyes scrunched up and her whole body tightened.

She could hardly process how hard she came, seeing stars from behind her eyelids as the only thing she focused on was the perfect way he was touching her, working her through her peak as her body slowly unwound and relaxed onto the couch. Nat smiled when she felt his lips return to her skin, kissing her neck before moving up to her swollen lips. She couldn’t help but wrap her arms around his neck, needing to hold him close as they kissed softly until he finally pulled away enough to look at her and ask, “Feeling good?”

“Yeah but now I’m going to be the one who needs a nap,” she laughed, opening her eyes again finally.

He slowly moved to lay on his side next to her, putting her between him and the back of the couch. “Do you mind if I go shower?” He finally asked her quietly, just as her eyelids grew heavy. “I haven’t taken one since landing yesterday and I desperately need one.”

She smirked, opening her eyes and turning to look at him. “After what you just did to me I think I need one first,” she murmured, slipping her hand over to the back of his shoulder.

Chris pursed his lips, leaning into her touch before he shrugged and suggested, “Or we could just take one together.”

Nat’s head moved, resting on the cushion to stare at the high ceiling above them. Her eyes darted to the side, meeting Chris’ as she asked, “I don’t know, can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself?”

“Probably not,” he smirked with an amused look in his eyes.

She laughed as she sat up, Chris following her lead as she told him, “Well in that case it’s a deal.”

They made their way out of the living room, heading into Chris’ room at the end of the hallway and slipping into his bathroom. She still couldn’t get over the sheer size of the bathroom, it’d been something that surprised her in May when she quickly gathered herself before she tried to leave after they spent the night together. But it truly hadn’t registered until the previous month, when she stayed at his place for a few nights after her car and purse got stolen until she felt comfortable returning to her apartment. The bathroom itself was bigger than her bedroom at her apartment, and the shower was bigger than any she’d ever seen before.

But it clearly wasn’t something even on Chris’ mind as he opened the door into the marble shower, turning on the water before he reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head. She still was standing there marveling over how incredible the space was while Chris shucked the rest of his clothing and climbed in underneath the warm spray before Nat pulled off the white tee shirt of his and tossed it over with his other pile of clothing and got in after him.

Almost immediately his arms came around her waist, pulling her up against him so he could press a kiss to the top of her bare shoulder and a matching on her cheek, making Nat smile brighter than the California sunshine out the window. She stood up on her toes, kissing his lips and reminding him, “It is so much better kissing you without that caterpillar above your upper lip.”

“You know that saying about protesting too much? I think that’s you and the mustache,” he chuckled, smirking down at her. “Don’t lie Nat, it secretly turned you on.”

She raised a single eyebrow as she looked up into his eyes, a near-scowl on her lips as she confessed to him, “Honestly you should just be lucky I was turned on while having to look at that hideous thing before.”

He shook his head, moving away from her to duck under the stream of hot water, making his short hair stick to his forehead. “At least you met me when I had the beard otherwise I would have probably sent you screaming,” he called over his shoulder to her.

Nat reached for the bottle of shampoo she’d left for herself earlier, pumping some into her hand. “Well once you got it, it knocked you down in my favorite voice actor rankings for sure,” she admitted, smirking as he met her eyes with a frown.

“Oh there’s a ranking? So where do I rank on this list?”

“Maybe fourth or fifth,” she shrugged, working the shampoo through her hair as he stared at her.

“Fourth or fifth?!” He asked, voice incredulous. “I’m literally naked in a shower with you right now and you’re going to tell me I rank fourth or fifth?”

She laughed, biting her lip with a smirk before she reminded him, “Remember you drive a Tesla so that’s another point docked for being a snob.”

The running water trailed down Chris’ broad, muscular back before he turned, facing her as she washed her hair. “So what do I have to do to get up at least in the top three?” He asked, jutting his chin out as he looked at her.

Nat pursed her lips and shrugged, unable to stop herself from teasing himself a bit as she mused, “That’s for you to figure out.”

Chris smirked, almost dangerously as their eyes remained locked on the other’s. She knew exactly what he was thinking and her brain was stuck there as well, on the long night they’d just spent together and what he’d just done to her on his couch. But before long, Chris shook his head, reaching for his own shampoo and working it through the short hair on his head.

His eyes kept finding hers as she washed her hair, his once-shock and now cocky attitude turning to amusement as her curls grew from the water and shampoo, the suds likely comically big while she ran her hands through it, making it grow bigger and causing Chris’ loud laughter to echo off the tiled shower. He reached out, running his fingers through the mess of sudsy hair and shaping it up to make it even taller and his laughs to come out even harder. Nat just stuck her tongue out at him before rinsing out the shampoo, washing out the white foam and making her dark curls reappear.

His voice surprised her when he finally spoke, interrupting her train of thought as she worked her conditioner gently through her curls. He was occupied with the random bottle of body wash she’d stuck in the shower earlier in the week, squeezing some into the palm of his hand as he asked her, “So who is number one?”

“Number one what?” She replied, tipping her head back under the shower head and rinsing the conditioner out gently.

“On your list?” He clarified, stepping next to her and under the second shower head, washing his body off.

“Oh that’s easy, Mindy Kaling,” she easily answered, knowing the answer already. “She honestly was the most involved actor I worked with. She loved Disgust so much and was really involved with a lot of the process. We’d go out to lunch all the time and honestly became friends through the process.”

His shoulders slouched and his head turned to look at her, head tilted down to meet her eyes as she opened them and straightened up. “Damn I thought I was special,” he whispered.

“I didn’t sleep with Mindy so you still are the only one with that title,” she placated him, smirking as he grinned at those words.

He handed her the body wash when she pointed to it, watching her as she finished up. “I want to know who these other idiots are who outranked me,” he murmured, eyes trailing over her body.

“Tina Fey is number two. She brought me doughnuts a lot,” Nat remembered, smiling at the thought. She reached for the shower wand, moving it over her body before she turned the water off. “And then Samuel L. Jackson is number three. I only met him once but he’s Mace Windu, so he just automatically gets a high ranking.”

“I’ll allow that,” Chris nodded to himself. He opened the shower door, grabbing towels as the colder air rushed inside the steamy shower. He ran the towel over his hair and face as he stepped into the bathroom, holding it open for Nat as she wrapped it around herself, then reached for her hair towel before following him. “So am I at least number four?”

“Yeah, I’ll put you in fourth,” she agreed, smirking to herself.

“So basically what I’m hearing is that I just need to bring you doughnuts and be in Star Wars and then I can move up to second place,” he began, pausing until she nodded in confirmation, making him laugh. “That’s doable.”

Chris’ laugh echoed through the bathroom as he stepped into his closet, drawers opening as he found clothes for himself. Nat headed into his bedroom, finding her bag near the couch against the far wall, and she began pulling clothes on as well. She’d just made her way back into the bathroom to hang up her towels and begin taming her hair when he reappeared, dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and a faded t-shirt, brown hair sticking up all over the place as it dried haphazardly.

There was something about this that just felt so… good. Sure last night had been wonderful, the excitement of Chris coming back and actually getting to see him in person again, not to mention how incredible it was to be tucked in his bed, being fully connected to one another. But this was different. Today had just been slow and easy, doing laundry, watching TV, and taking a shower. Just normal things, but after so long apart and never having been able to have these moments until months in, it just felt so natural and so right.

As they moved around each other in the bathroom, Nat drying her curls and Chris pulling out his clippers to shape his stubble that was growing in, she realized just how close they’d become. How he truly had become her best friend in every sense of the word. But that one nagging part of her brain couldn’t help but wonder if he was in just as deep as she was. Chris was in a different world, no doubt having women throw themselves at him constantly and most likely getting his way with most things. She knew that he cared about her but Nat felt anxious, wondering if he was planning on this being a deep committed relationship.

This kept filtering through her head once they were in the kitchen making dinner together. Nat kept her mouth shut, just listening to the sound of Chris softly singing to the song stuck in his head while she put the chicken in the hot pan on the burner before turning back to the counter, chopping the parsley slowly. Normally Nat wasn’t an anxious person… in fact quite the opposite. She had always been able to just go with the flow, beating to her own drum as she rolled through life. She wasn’t afraid of her emotions, feeling them all so deeply and able to express them so easily, but there was a piece of this that did cause anxiety in her.

What if he rejected her?

What if a relationship wasn’t what he wanted, or if this was some temporary thing that he was just filling his time with? If she had been in a more logical state of mind, it would have not even been a thought, his actions proving for months that he wanted her and all that came with her. But the lack of clarity and knots in her stomach had her brain kicking into high gear on overthinking.

She glanced up, seeing where he had his back to her as he washed the green beans underneath the faucet while Dodger paced back and forth by his legs. She watched the muscles ripple beneath his thin, worn shirt as he moved back and forth between the package of green beans and the cutting board. His eyes occasionally drifted down to Dodger at his feet, his laugh echoing through the open space as he stepped around the dog. Nat swallowed nervously, voice timid as she asked, “Chris?”

“Yeah?” He replied easily, tilting his head but barely looking at her as he shut the water off, holding a single green bean in his hand as he smirked down at Dodger. “Hey bubba, you want a snack? You want one of these?”

“Chris, we’re…” she paused, hesitating enough that Chris turned to look at her fully, brows furrowed. “We’re….dating now, right? Like we’re doing this?”

He shrugged, a grin pulling on his lips while he placed the last green bean on the cutting board next to him. “I was under the impression we already were,” he told her.

Nat sighed, shaking her head as she insisted, “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” Chris shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was thinking we had been for a while now.”

Nat nodded, biting her lip to stop the smile from overtaking her expression. “I kind of did too, but I just, wasn’t sure I guess so I wanted to ask,” she replied.

“If it helps to clarify, I want us to be dating because I only want you,” Chris explained, pushing himself up from where he’d been resting the small of his back against the marble countertops, crossing the distance to stand in front of Nat. His hand reached out for her own, pulling her closer to him.

“I want that too,” she murmured, unable to help the smile this time as she looked into his eyes.

She watched as Chris moved both of his warm hands to cup her cheeks while Dodger came to sit by their feet. Nat just looked up into his eyes for a long moment as his thumbs rubbed softly against her cheeks before he leaned down to kiss her deeply as if to seal that spoken commitment between them. The warmth that filled her stayed there throughout dinner, Chris holding one of her hands across the table as they ate together and talked effortlessly but that talking turned to kissing once their dishes were in the sink and that kissing landed them back on the couch where they had been earlier.

Nat’s sweatpants and panties were discarded before they had even made it to the couch, the only thing on her body being the thin cami that had been buried at the bottom of her bag. She couldn’t pull her lips away from his passionate kisses as she blindly reached for his Nike shorts, Chris lifting his lips so she could get rid of them as well as his boxers before he sat back down as she climbed on his lap.

His hands slipped underneath the light green cami, holding onto her waist while Nat’s arms slipped around his neck, pressing her body fully into him while their passionate kissing continued.

It was so easy for Nat to hand her whole heart over to him, trusting him in every way. He’d hardly ever let her down, proving time and time again just how thoughtful he was, how he could apologize when needed, and just how deeply he cared for her. She knew it hadn’t been a mistake trusting him and here she was again, putty in his hands. She rolled her bare hips down into his lap, feeling his hardness underneath her and only managing to get her even wetter than she already was.

Chris pulled his lips away from hers, his blue eyes bleary as he leaned his head back against the cushion and looked at her. She watched his eyes drop down, following along the lines of her neck before lingering on where her nipples were poking through the thin material and he moved a hand from her waist to come up and pull the loose fabric down, exposing her bare chest to the cool air of the room. Her nipples hardened quickly, even before he dipped his head down, lips meeting her bare skin just as Nat moved a hand down, holding him in place as she lowered herself down onto him.

Almost immediately, Nat’s head tilted back as she moaned loudly. It was the first time she was feeling him without any barrier and feeling the warmth of his cock inside her was enough to have her shivering on his lap and by the squeeze of his tight grip on her waist, she figured out that he was feeling the exact same glorious feeling. She just sat there for a long moment, adjusting to the slight pleasurable sting of him stretching her while they each caught their breath.

“Nattie,” he groaned, nipping at her chest. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

She moved slightly on him, feeling the sting turn into pure pleasure as she moaned, “So do you, baby.”

Chris didn’t verbally respond, instead just taking the moment to peel off the bunch up cami and toss it to the floor, allowing him to litter kisses across Nat’s chest before her hands grasped at his broad shoulders and she shifted her weight on his lap. Nat pushed herself more onto her knees, allowing her to start moving her hips up and down, sliding herself along his length and making moans pour from each other's lips.

It felt so good to be working herself along his hard length, but she knew that it felt even better because of the person she was sharing this moment with. It was right there in her heart, those three little words that were begging to come out. She knew she loved him, she knew that more than she knew anything else, but what she didn’t know is that he felt exactly the same way and had those same words rattling around in his head.

But she told herself it wasn’t the right time with them having barely been back together, barely hitting the twenty-four hour mark just now, and she instead pushed those words back down, instead letting out a soft moan of his name as she bounced up and down on his lap. It was all so good, her body feeling like it was on fire as Chris’ firm grasp helped lift her up and down as he pressed messy kisses along her collar bone.

Everything just felt too good and soon her knees were buckling as she faltered in her rhythmic movements. Feeling her stuttered movements, Chris held onto her waist even tighter, gently pulling her off of his hard cock and laid her on the couch right next to where he was sitting before moving to hover over her. Nat was already feeling weak but when he pushed himself back inside her and she heard his low grunt mixed with the thud of his necklace hitting against his chest, she knew that she was almost done for and with him changing his angle to drag against that sensitive bundle of nerves she couldn’t hang on any longer.

She was grabbing onto him as she cried out loudly, eyes pressing shut tight as she hit her peak, the action making Chris groan from how tight her walls were squeezing him. Nat was panting as her eyes slowly fluttered back open, just enjoying the sight of him plowing into her harder and harder as he got close to his own edge, but seemed to suddenly remember the lack of protection between them and pulled out of her.

Wanting to be the one who got him over that amazing edge, Nat reached out to palm his throbbing cock, pumping her hand up and down until he was moaning her name while he spilled his essence onto her with his loud cries. Nat just watched as he sat down between her legs, rubbing a hand over his short hair while he tried to catch his breath. She reached out for him lazily, just wanting to feel him close but he took her hand, pressing a kiss in the palm of her hand before telling her, “I’ll be right back, baby.”

And he was, heading toward the kitchen before returning a moment later with a damp paper towel, cleaning her off meticulously before he folded up the paper towel and left it on the coffee table to be dealt with later. Nat smiled widely as he came back to lay on the couch, maneuvering them so that he was laying on his back while she laid face down on his chest while they basked in the afterglow of how they were feeling.

She pressed a few soft kisses to the crook of his neck before he nuzzled his nose against her face, getting her attention and making her look up so he could kiss her pink lips. Nat felt his hands running down her bare back, coming to rest on her round cheeks where he rubbed his hands softly as they kissed over and over again.

She never wanted to leave here, never wanted to leave his embrace, be as far as an arm’s length from him. She never wanted to forget the way his lips felt against hers, never wanted to forget the way he sighed as they kissed, then smirked before he deepened it. She never wanted to forget the sound of his breaths, the slight hitch in them as she moved her hand below his shirt. She never wanted to forget the sound of his laugh, the one that echoed in her mind nearly all the time. She didn’t know how she’d ever live without any of this, and she never wanted to try to figure it out.

A/N: We love them so so so much! We are so thrilled to finally be to this point and sharing these chapters with you all! As a reminder, feel free to send in asks for them at any time! Thank you all for reading!!

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harvardhaugland · 1 year

Text

closest friend - bosch ♡

a/n: more of an angsty-smut fic haha and once again. not even proofread. HELP MEEEEE. anyone wanna be my beta reader pls 💔

world tour spoilers! chapters 10 - 13 at least! bosch does break into the readers home but everything beyond that one part is all consensual, just a simple passionate bj ^^

Throughout this whole journey for “strength”, running around— doing all types of errands, all for him. You had second thoughts. You’ll be cooped up in your apartment, tussling over in the bedsheets, nothing but silence and the AC running.

When you can’t sleep, you look up at the ceiling and count all the days you had been looking for him.

Hell, the first time you had met, you two barely knew each other. You still don’t even know some basic things about Bosch, like his birthday, favorite food, not even a last name— yet you had always stood up for each other.

The lack of communication between the two of you had started to border your friendship.

You want to see him again, just talk to him, be around him. Just make sure he’s okay through all this. Tonight, you can’t even sleep because of an encounter with him. Back at the construction site. Bosch in some kind of cardboard box-head getup.

Hour after hour, it turns to 2 AM. Your eyes grow heavy— finally, starting to drift off to sleep. Your body hadn’t fully shutdown, but you could squeeze your eyes closed to the very least.

You roll over to the side, facing the wall. Focusing your attention towards getting a good night’s rest rather than the ambient darkness of your room. Slowly, your worries start to fade away, growing sluggish, tensed muscles relax. For a moment, you feel at peace after a few restless weeks without sleep.

The hinges of the window squeaks.

Wind blows in.

Footsteps.

Heavy breathing.

Heavy breathing that wasn’t from you.

Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you, perhaps this is what too little hours of rest does to you, or maybe it’s just all the heavy hits from training you took that are starting to hurt again. So you remain still, sleeping, breathing quieter than whatever— or whoever seemed to be in here with you.

Paper crumples in your ear and it feels as if your pillow is being lifted up.

Your paranoia gets the best of you and you’re quick to turn around, and try to grab the intruder by the arm. To which an audible gasp comes from them. You have them held by the rather bulky cuffs around their wrists, your vision readjusts to look up at who you’re holding— a completely ironic scenario taking place.

It’s you and the “Cardboard Combatant”. Face to face. No bullshit. You won’t let him go this time, making sure to keep hold of him. “Bosch?” you say, gently, “I’m not gonna fight you, if that’s what you’re here for.”

There’s no response from him. He simply grunts. Seemingly displeased, a bit awkward, stiff in posture.

“Are you okay?” You get up. Your hand goes down to hold his, to which he promptly snatches his hand back, a paper note crumpled in his other hand, his fists balled up tight.

Instead he very hesitantly reach out to hold your hands, “I shouldn’t be here, I’m sorry.” he says, “I just had a note for you, that was all. I’m okay.” he reassures, his voice is strained.

“Please don’t leave.” you’re almost pleading with him, you don’t question what the note was for. Bosch is simply standing in place with his head held low. Carefully, you reach to take the box off his head, cautious as if you were dealing with a stray cat, unpredictable. You expect him to stop you, but he lets you take it off. He looks tired, furrowed and upset. Your hands drift up to caress his face, fresh bruises on his brow bone and cheek. He winces when you graze them.

This all feels so ironic to you, you wished upon a star to see Bosch again— and here he is, inside of your room, with the two of you going in to share an awkward, yet intimate kiss.

He rests his hands on your hips, leaning against you, pushing you into your mattress. Bosch nips at your neck with kisses, practically close to biting you with how aggressive he was, desperate, touch-starved. His hands drift up your shirt, he’s excitedly fast, but hesitant at some points, almost in fear that he might hurt you like before.

You flip positions, on top of him this time, unwrapping the shirt tied around his hips, Bosch is laid back against the pillow with a shy look, hand hiding over his parted mouth. He’s hard through his pants— you pull them and his underwear down just enough to free his cock, having to glance up at him occasionally to make sure he’s okay, hands gently working his erection up, soft stroking that makes him squirm underneath you,

You take the tip into your mouth, illiciting a small gasp from Bosch, his hands grab the back of your head, firmly, he starts to slowly push you down further— stopping when you gag halfway down. Starting to bob your head up and down once you adjust.

Bosch’s fingers tangle into your hair, his leg wraps around your head, forcing you to keep at a rough pace, letting you take in deep breaths inbetween.

“You feel so warm.” he remarks, whining your name the more you take him in, when you hit the base of his cock, he’s panting, “..What are you doing to me?”. He’s overwhelmed with pleasure. Sweat running down between his chest and sucking in his stomach. For his first time, out of all people, he would keep his legs apart for you.

He makes your head spin. Bosch is cute when he’s like this, holding onto you, calling your name softly, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could— tears well in the corners of his eyes as his cock twitches down your throat, trying hard to prolong the pleasure.

He whimpers, wanting to get the most of this, but he can’t play around with you any longer. Bosch roughly shoves you back down to the base, nose hitting his pelvis as he pulls out, carelessly cumming all over your face and tongue. He’s speechless, his chest heaves as he grips the bedsheets. His face is red, he’s hot all over, as if he had a fever of some kind. Bosch collapses against your pillows.

There’s drool and cum dribbling down your mouth, pooling at your chin. Wiping it off with your shirt, feeling too exhausted to properly clean up. You tuck him back into his pants, simply laying on top of him, tangling your legs together.

When you wakeup, you’ll find him missing from your bed. Unsure if the feelings shared the night before was genuine now.

#bosch waraya #street fighter 6 x reader #sf6 x reader #bosch x reader #street fighter 6 #sf6 #ok perhaps this isnt as good as i thought it was #i almost posted this on my main thank god im still coherent at this time of night #kind of pwp ehhhh idrc #also kind of rushed UGHHH #i need to get my ao3 back

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dialovers-translations · 1 year

Text

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kino Dark [Prologue]

Yui: …Nn.

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( Where…am I…? …ーー Ugh! )

…Coff! Coff, coff!

( Where is this stench coming from…? It smells horrible, like something is rotting nearby… )

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Anyway, I should get away from here for now… )

Huh…?

( There’s a young boy…over there? )

Mystery Boy: …

Yui: ( He seems to be gazing up at the sky… )

( I guess he lives in the area. I’ll try striking up a conversation. )

ー Yui approaches the boy

Yui: Hey there. Do you live nearby?

Mystery Boy: …

Yui: What are you up to? Where are your parents?

Mystery Boy: …Ah.

Yui: Eh?

ー Yui looks up at the sky as well

Monologue

All of a sudden, the boy pointed towards the sky.

When I looked up,

a star just came falling down.

Leaving a long trail of light behind,

the star eventually faded deep into the night sky.

When it did, the boy whispered.

Mystery Boy: …That’s papa.

Yui: …Papa?

( What does he mean…? )

ー The screen fades to black

*Rustle*

Yui: …Uu…Nn…?

ー Yui wakes up in the guest room at Kino’s manor

Yui: ( Huh? I… )

( Right…I was with Ayato-kun when… )

???: Aah, you finally woke up, didn’t you?

Yui: …Kino-kun…

ー Kino walks up to her

Kino: How do you feel? You seemed to be sleeping rather comfortably.

Yui: …

( Rather than sleeping… )

Kino: Well then, what to do now…?

I didn’t bring you over here for nothing. You’ll have to entertain me.

Yui: Entertain…?

Kino: Exactly. I mean, you lived at that manor for long enough to understand veeeery well what I mean, no?

…Come on, why not try telling me? What exactly did those guys do to you at the Sakamaki manor…?

Yui: …Why would you ask such a thing…?

Kino: Heeh. You’re not going to do as I say?

If you want to be defiant, I guess you leave me no other choice. You will stay here in this room until I allow you to leave.

Yui: …Why do you do all of this? What happened to Ayato-kun!?

Kino: Fufu. Bombarding me with questions next, huh…?

But who cares about that right now? More importantly, I’m kind of thirsty.

*Rustle*

Kino: Yuuri! Could you fetch me a glass of guava juice at once?

Yuuri: As you wish.

Kino: …Do you want some as well?

Yui: No thank you…

( Now isn’t the time to be sipping away at some juice…! )

*TIMESKIP*

*Gulp gulp*

Kino: ーー … Nn. Haah…Guava juice really is delicious.

Yui: …Hey, Kino-kun. Could you stop beating around the bush and answer my question…?

Kino: Fufu. I’m not beating around the bush. You should know the answer yourself, no?

…There’s only one reason why I would target you. In short, to do this!

*Thud*

Yui: Kyah…!

*Thud*

*Splash*

Kino: Ahーah. I spilt my juice.

*Rustle rustle*

Kino: Oh well, I guess it’s fine. Haah…Nn…

ー Kino bites her

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: …! S-Sto…

*Rustle*

Kino: Fufu. Don’t wanna~ Didn’t you hear me earlier when I said that I’m thirsty?

…Nnh…Nn…

Yui: ( …My body is going limp… )

*Rustle*

Kino: Haah…Your blood’s really nice…I might grow addicted to it.

Too bad those guys have already had their way with you though…

Yui: Cut it out already…Let me go!!

Kino: You aren’t very quick to grasp the situation, are you? …Do you still not understand this position you’re in?

You should learn already. Right now, you’re basically like a pet to me…Got it!?

*Rustle*

*Thud*

Yui: Kyah…!

( I’m falling! )

*Thud*

Kuh…

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“You look much cuter when you’re obedient like that, you know? I bet that deep down, you love being treated this way, don’t you?”

“Hehe…Right now, you won’t be able to survive unless you try to get on my good side. Don’t forget about that, okay?”

Kino: Hehe…What a lovely view. Honestly, you look great on all fours on the floor like that.

Yui: …

Kino: Come on, apologize to me right now. You made me spill my delicious guava juice.

Yui: …Why should I…!?

Kino: Are you trying to claim that it isn’t your fault? Hm…

Seems like…you just won’t understand unless you get a taste of pain first…Fufu…

Yui: Ugh…

( His eyes aren’t smiling… )

( The kind of look…where you have no idea what they’ll do if you upset them… )

…

Kino: …Heeh. Finally in the mood to obey?

Yui: …I’m…sorry…

Kino: That obviously won’t do? Kneel down at my feet and face towards the floor.

Only if you truly feel remorse, okay…?

*Rustle*

Yui: …I’m…sorry…

Kino: Fufu…Ahahaha! Amazing…This is the best!

Yui: …What are you hoping to achieve by doing this…?

Kino: …Excuse me? Who said you could stop? Don’t be uttering nonsense and continue.

*Rustle*

Yui: …I’m sorry…

Kino: …Nice. I should have gotten it on video to preserve the memory…

Oh well, it can’t be helped. I suppose a picture will do for now. …There.

*Snap*

Yui: ( …A picture!? )

Kino: Huh? Is it this late already? Well then…I should probably get going soon.

I had a decently fun time thanks to you. But remember well that this is only the beginning of everything.

Be afraid of what’s to come. And be careful not to do anything reckless, okay?

Yui: …You’re the worst…

Kino: Haha. Go ahead and run your mouth all you want.

ー Kino leaves the room and locks the door

Yui: …

( He finally left… )

( But…Seems like the locked the door, so I can’t get out of this room… )

( …I wonder what happened to Ayato-kun…? )

( With Kino-kun acting the way he did…I’m worried… )

ー The scene shifts to the dungeon

Ayato: …Lemme out of here! Fuck!

*THUD*

*Woosh*

Ayato: …What!?

*WOOSH*

Ayato: Uwaah!!

*Thud*

ー He collapses

Ayato: …Guh…

ー Kino walks up to his cell

???: Haah…Could you pipe down? Why not behave already?

Ayato: …!

Kino: You can thrash about all you want. This prison cell has been set up with a special kind of magic.

Although I’m sure you realized that by what happened just now, no matter how much of an idiot you may be?

Ayato: Fuck off! I’ll kill you right here, right now!

Kino: Someone has a big mouth, huh? Not exactly the tone you’d use against your older brother now, is it?

Ayato: Aah!? Who are you callin’ my big bro!?

Kino: Who, you ask…? …Me, obviously? I’m pretty sure I mentioned it before?

Ayato: I bet you’re trying to throw me off by spoutin’ random bullshit like that, but your plan won’t work…ーー

Kino: It isn’t nonsense though. But well, if you don’t want to believe me, be my guest.

Ayato: Che…You really know how to grind my gears. Anyway, lemme outta here at once!

Kino: Haah…Seems like my little brother is even more disobedient than what I was told. Guess I have no other choice.

Who knows what will happen to her if you don’t listen to me, you know. …Are you willing to take that risk?

ー Kino pulls out his phone

*Tap tap*

Ayato: A phone…?

Kino: You should be grateful. I’m showing you this piece from my precious private collection. Fufu…

Ayato: …!! Chichinashi…!

Kino: Fufu…Ahaha! What do you think? Amazing, no?

Ayato: You bastard…Cut the crap…!

Kino: Fufu. You can bark all you want, there’s nothing you can do in your current state.

Well then, do you understand now? That you have no other choice but to do as I say…

Ayato: …Jackass…The fuck are you after…?

Kino: What I’m after, huh…?

Well, to put it simply so even your one-celled brain will understand, I want you to help me out.

To destroy everything…

Ayato: To destroy…everything…?

Kino: Yes, exactly. What do you say? Sounds interesting, no?

Ayato: Hah, in your dreams! What makes you think I’d help you? Don’t make me gag!

Not with some guy who talks bullcrap ‘bout being my brother and works together with those filthy Ghouls…

Kino: …Filthy Ghouls, huh…?

Hey, Ayato. I want you to promise me one thing.

Promise me that you never again talk badly about the Ghouls like you did just now…

Ayato: Aah? And what you think you can order me ‘round, huh!?

Kino: …I see. You leave me no other choice then.

I suppose it’s my responsibility as your older sibling…to make sure that my naughty little brother is taught a lesson…

*Clatter*

Ayato: …What are you gonna do…!?

Kino: Eh? Isn’t that obvious? I’m going to take this scorching hot branding iron…

And do this…

*Pshhh*

Ayato: …Guaaaaahーー!!

ー Ayato collapses

*Thud*

Kino: …Fufu…Ahahaha! Pretty nice, huh? That branding mark…

I’d say it looks pretty good on you? You should be thankful.

That symbol of a black bird…proves that you are now one of us.

Ayato: Guuh…Uu…Aaah…You bastard…Now you’ve done it…!

Kino: I suppose I’m looking forward to our future cooperation? See you later then!

*Cling*

ー Kino leaves

Ayato: Fuck…Damnit…!!

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Yuuri: Welcome back, Kino.

Kino: Aah, Yuuri? You’re back.

Yuuri: Yes, just now. Did you go to check up on the guy in the dungeon, perhaps?

Kino: Yeah, exactly. Honestly, he’s even more of a handful than I expected, I’m exhausted.

Yuuri: So? How is he doing?

Kino: Who knows? I did punish him for now, but I’m sure he’ll throw another fit soon enough?

Oh well, I might just have to repeatedly punish him until he learns to behave. With my best hot iron, you see?

Yuuri: Understood.

Kino: That being said…The magic put on the dungeon cell…

The seal those people from the Church came up with is pretty impressive, you know?

Ayato seemed to be no match for it.

Well, I’m sure it’s partially because we’re here in the human world…

…

( Even though Ayato…should be the one who inherited Father’s…Karlheinz almighty powers… )

( Don’t tell me they’re not nearly as impressive as I thought…? )

Yuuri: …Shall I set you some tea?

Kino: Yeah. Good idea. Please.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kino #diabolik lovers translation #lekinodarkprolog #lost eden

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softer-fatter-happier · 7 months

Note

Hiiiii <3 I wanted to wish you happy birthday too! I also whipped up this little thing as a gift perhaps. Hope you enjoy!

Tight.

Why were his pants so tight? He didn’t remember the last time he had outgrown any of his clothes. These suits had fit with no problem ever since he had gotten them years ago. Actually, Ambrose was pretty sure he hadn’t bought any new clothes because they hadn’t fit anymore. “Come on…”, he frustratedly mumbled to himself as he fiddled with the button on his dress shirt. His belly strained against the fabric as he pulled on the to close the fastening. Even once he managed, nothing sat right. The buttons gaped slightly and showed the smooth skin of his stomach.

Maybe it was because he had fed last night before Vee had left for work, it wouldn’t be completely unimaginable that he was still a little bloated and it’d go down throughout the rest of the day. Or at least that thought comforted him. Maybe he could cover the shirt discreetly with a jacket. Ambrose sighed softly as he rummaged through the closet. Something had to cover him properly. It took a little searching but there was a black suit jacket that should cover the buttons until the swell was completely gone. He threw it on the bed before grabbing his pants and praying he wouldn’t have the same problem there.

Getting into the pants proved to be a challenge on its own, they strained immensely on his thighs and ass. But surely, surely, he hadn’t gained that much weight, right? No way, it had only been a little under two months since he had started regularly feeding on Vee. The button closed eventually, though it squished his belly a little uncomfortably, he could put up with that for a little if it meant he still looked professional enough. At least his tie still fit around his neck.

The jacket covered everything just barely and Ambrose took extra time to check nothing would slip in a manner that’d draw more attention than he’d want. “Honey, is everything okay? You’ve been taking a while.”, Vee suddenly called from the other room. He perked up at that, not meaning to concern his girlfriend. “Ah- Yes, everything is alright! I’ll be there in a moment!” The outfit seemed safe enough by now and so, he hurried into the kitchen, eager to spend a few more minutes with his girlfriend before he had to leave for work.

The half dragon basically hung in her chair, she had just come home from a shift two hours earlier and not gotten any sleep yet, since she usually slept during the time Ambrose was at work. To be frank, she looked about ready to fall asleep on the table but she patiently sipped on a cup of tea while waiting, already in a loose shirt and pyjama shorts in preparation for her day plans. “You got anything exciting to do at work?” He shook his head as he sat across from her, grabbing the steaming mug of coffee she had freshly prepared.

“Not really, only a few reports to check through but unless something comes up, it should be a quiet day. How was your night?” Vee shrugged. “It was nothing special. Kicked out a few jerks here and there, argued with some teens about fake IDs but overall, an average shift. Still very happy I can go to bed soon.” Her eyes scanned him carefully, awfully attentive in spite of their tiredness. “Did your clothes shrink in the wash?” He blinked a little startled, looking down on himself and then back up to her. “Oh- Uhm, no, I don’t think so. Probably just bloated from yesterday.” She hummed softly. “Or you’re finally getting some relationship weight.” “We’ve been dating for over a year, I think that would have happened already by now.”

She shrugged. “Or maybe it’s because you finally started eating well. Just a suggestion to keep in mind.” Ambrose dramatically rolled his eyes. “Of course, I will.”

He finished his coffee in the next few minutes and let Vee walk him to the door for a quick goodbye. “So, I’ll see you in the evening. If I’m still sleeping by then, feel free to wake me as usual.” She bend down to give him a peck on the lips. “I hope you have a nice day, love.” The vampire smiled gently, thank you love. I’ll make dinner tonight, you deserve a treat after yesterday.” Vee grinned with excitement. “I’m looking forward to it.” As he turned around to leave, a metallic clink followed the movement, his key ring hitting the floor. “Ah- damnit-”

In a moment that likely wasn’t his brightest, he quickly bend over to pick the ring up and-

*RRRRIIIIIIIPP*

Ambrose stilled. Vee didn’t have an audible reaction. There was silence for a second. Surprise, terror, it was hard to say from either side. After a few seconds of being frozen, he shot up, trying to cover up the more than obvious rip at the back seam of his pants. He was sure that if he had had any blood, it would have shot straight to his face. “Fuck-”, was the only thing that came out of his mouth as any reaction. That seemed to break the tension and drew a laugh out of Vee.

“Just bloating, huh? Here too?” She grabbed the back of his thigh, her hand easily wrapping around his leg. Ambrose didn’t turn around, just taking a second to gather his voice before responding. “I-… think I have to change-”

The grin in her voice was audible as she leaned down to whisper to him. “I think we have to get you some new clothes sometime.”

-Hucow anon

Omg omg omg this is just omg I love it 🥰 💖💕🎉💕🎉💕🦞💖💕💖🥳🎉. These two are just so lovely. I love how domestic it is and just warm and cozy and while also being sensual and omg I just isndvdinxurvsiwnaoe (blushing and kicking my little feetsies in delight)

Thank you so much for this hucow anon what a lovely lovely lovely gift!!!!! 🎁 thanks for making my birthday just a little more special. 🥰😊🥰😊🥰😊🥰

#thank you hucow anon #queer feedism #tight clothes #soft feedism

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beeeinyourbonnet · 5 months

Text

Covetous | Chapter 6

Rating: E

Pairing: Macelle (Father MacAvoy x Belle) or Nostelle (Nosty x Belle), who is to say which

Summary: Father Joseph MacAvoy wakes up in a library across town with no idea of how he got there. When the kind librarian doesn’t kick him out immediately, he considers that maybe there’s more to life than alcohol.

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5]

tws: alcoholism, homelessness. If I missed a warning, I’m so sorry–please let me know and I will add it ASAP!

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

At first, Belle wasn’t sure what had awakened her. Then, Nosty clenched his fist by her abdomen, squeezing her to him like a lifeline, and keened softly in her ear.

“Nosty?” she whispered. Was he asleep?

He whimpered, clutching her tighter, and just as she was about to put her hand over his and try to soothe him awake, he screamed and flung himself off of her, landing next to the bed in a crouch.

“Nosty!” She wriggled, untangling herself from the blankets as he shouted nonsense at her in his quick brogue. Once free, she clambered to him and touched his arm.

Some of the fever was leaving his eyes already and he sucked in breaths like a drowning man. She stepped closer to him, resting her other hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “You’re safe. It was just a nightmare.”

He grabbed her hand, squeezing tight, and she could see when his eyes changed from seeing his demons to seeing her bedroom. He loosened his grip, looking down at her, and she rubbed his shoulder.

“It’s just me,” she said. “Belle. You’re in my flat.”

“Belle,” he repeated, then pressed into her. Surprised, she wrapped her arms around him, tucking him under her chin.

“Come on, let’s get back in bed.” She guided him backwards and he climbed in after her, curling into her like a child when she sat against the headboard.

“You’re okay?” he asked so quietly, she almost didn’t hear him.

“I’m okay.” What had he dreamt? He still shook, but the tremors calmed with every passing second as Belle rubbed his back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Nothing to talk about.”

She kissed the top of his locks and he finally looked up at her. He ran his fingers along her cheek, her lip, her neck, then closed his eyes and tucked his head back under her chin.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

He nodded, hair tickling her, and when he did it again at her wheeze of laughter, she knew he was at least a little bit telling the truth.

“I haven’t had a nightmare in ages,” he said to her collar. “Never sleep well enough to bother.”

She tucked that statement away to process later. Her sleep-fogged brain couldn’t unpack the implications just then.

“I have nightmares sometimes,” she said. As she’d hoped, he perked up a little, tilting to look at her.

“Yeah? What about?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes I have dreams about being locked away forever or chased in a maze that I can’t get out of.”

“You ever been locked away?”

She shook her head and he lifted himself off of her, though not enough that he broke her grip on him.

“Good.” He kissed her on the jaw, then ducked out from her arms, coaxing her to lie down before following. She tucked them both back under the comforter, and Nosty spooned up behind her, wrapping her up in him this time.

They settled back in to sleep, but Belle couldn’t yet. “Have you?” she asked softly.

For a moment, she thought he might not answer, which was answer enough. But then, lips by her ear, he whispered, “‘Course. Don’t you know the biggest crime in London is having no address?”

She swallowed, tightening her grip on his arm around her. Did he dream about being locked up too? Is that why he fled, why he screamed? Or was it something far worse?

Uneasy, Belle didn’t drift off again until she felt Nosty’s breathing even out in sleep.

****

MacAvoy forced his overcooked egg down, wishing he had thought to add beans to it before it was almost done. Despite being basically sober in the morning, his egg-cooking skills were getting somehow worse. He blamed the devil.

At least there had been no more masturbatory incidents. He couldn’t stop the visions of Belle’s violation—Belle, naked, hair fanned out behind her, a halo of angelic light around her as she knelt down or lay splayed—but at least he didn’t sully her memory further.

And he wouldn’t, because today was Sunday. The Lord’s day. Even Satan wouldn’t fuck with him today. Besides, this meant that he only had to make it through one more bleak, miserable day before he could get on a bus and make his way to the library and Belle in the flesh.

He almost choked on his dry eggs, face suddenly on fire. Belle in the flesh. How would he look her in the eye now, after having visions of her from every angle, every facet, every position?

She would know. How could she not? Then again, he would be surprised if anyone attracted to women could come to the library and confidently say they’d never pictured Belle naked once.

Not that he had pictured her naked himself, but whether he or the devil was the real culprit, the fact was it was in his mind. He knew the visceral feel of her throaty, passioned screams.

He threw the last few bites of egg in the sink, then poured himself a glass of water and downed it. Today, he would be productive. He would find the best bus route to get to his library tomorrow.

The oven clock reminded him that he could be holding mass today. It would have started in fifteen minutes.

Crossing himself, he shuffled downstairs, unsteady on his feet. Maybe he wasn’t quite as sober as he thought.

He considered entering the sanctuary, sitting at the pulpit and at least reading a few passages from the bible even if no one was there for him to preach to, but he continued on his course to the abandoned office, where he knew existed a bus schedule somewhere.

When he couldn’t find it, he turned to the ancient computer. He certainly hadn’t paid the internet bill in God knew how long, so the machine was no more than an expensive paper weight. What he really needed was a library, but he didn’t feel up to walking anywhere.

Maybe—maybe he should call Belle? She’d told him to. Even though his visions told him she was still with Nosty, she had said herself that he should call any time.

It was barely ten though. It would be rude to call then.

With time to kill, he searched the office once more, but all he found was a membership directory, a few takeaway menus, and a five pound note that he pocketed to put in Belle’s collection jar tomorrow. It was the least he could do.

Noon would be a reasonable time to call. It wasn’t so early that she might still be sleeping, but early enough that she might not yet have started her day. Or she’d be right in the middle, but he couldn’t worry about that. She could be in the middle of something no matter what. She could be getting fucked at any point, and he’d just have to trust that she wouldn’t answer if she was.

He gripped the wall, lurching forward. When had he decided she was getting fucked instead of violated? Pinching the bridge of his nose, he crossed himself. It was still violating no matter what word his mind supplied.

The confessional welcomed him as it had yesterday, and now he had so much more to confess.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He crossed himself again. “It’s been less than a day since my last confession and I’ve got some complaints.”

A little guilt creeped in at the idea of using the confessional as his therapy session, but everyone was meant to have their own personal relationship with God, and this was his. If the Lord wasn’t going to protect him against the devil, then he was going to have to get used to receiving a little lip now and then.

He confessed, drank, checked his phone clock, and Hailed Mary on repeat until noon, at which point he fumbled his phone so hard with excitement, he nearly shattered it.

Soon, it was ringing, and his cheeks and toes tingled pleasantly. It hadn’t even rung last time.

“Hello?”

He was so happy to hear her voice on the other end, a little formal but not the voice of a dying woman, he forgot to speak until she repeated it.

“Hi.”

“Who—Joseph?”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s me.” He dropped his forehead into his free hand. He was too drunk for this. He should have removed the vodka bottle from his confession ritual—but it was such a good way to make time move faster.

“What’s up?” She sounded a little preoccupied, but chipper nonetheless.

“Ah—” He had a reason for calling, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember.

“Joseph?”

“Bus schedule! I don’t know which bus to take tomorrow. Internet’s down here.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” He wondered that she hadn’t seen through that excuse—the internet had been down for months, at least. “I can’t look right now, but if you give me awhile, I’ll look it up and text you the best route?”

“Sure,” he said, heart sinking. She was too busy to talk and he couldn’t even look up his own bus schedule. Useless as a priest and as a friend.

“Okay, great. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He licked his chapped lips. Was there anything he could say to keep her on the phone? Nothing that wasn’t a lie. “See you, Belle.”

She hung up, and he sank further into the booth, staring at the little machine that had so recently contained Belle’s voice. After another pathetic minute, he sighed and swigged his vodka.

****

Belle didn’t want to feel anxious about the oncoming Monday. She always saw Nosty at work; that wouldn’t change just because he’d come over. And even if it did, he could just come over again. This idyll wasn’t ending.

Joseph MacAvoy, however, was going to destroy it. She hung up the phone, hating that she could even think to blame him for the hard set of Nosty’s jaw, the way his shoulders moved like he was squaring up.

Well, let him. She could square up too.

“That was Father MacAvoy,” she said.

“Not Joseph?” he sneered.

She watched him, and the longer she did, she saw the way his jaw twitched, his eyes darted around, his hands fidgeted at his side. Instead of answering, she took his hand in both of hers and kissed his knuckles.

“Why are you jealous of a priest?” she asked.

He yanked his hand free to storm away, but all he did was make it to the end of the living room before pacing down the other side of the couch. “I’m not jealous.”

She folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong then?”

“I just think it’s fucking weird that you call a Father by his given name and he’s phoning you, that’s all.”

“So maybe he’s a bad priest. Are you from the diocese, then?”

She knew he meant the look he gave her to be scathing, but all she could do was laugh because she knew he would see his blustering as ridiculous if he thought about it for even a second.

“What’s he want with you? Why’s he need a bus schedule?”

“I don’t know, and because he’s coming to volunteer at the library tomorrow.” Volunteer might have been stretching the truth, but then, she was going to have to insist he volunteer anyway if he spent enough time there, so not much of a stretch.

“He wants you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “So? You have me.”

He stopped, all the way on the other side of the couch from her. Instead of closing the distance, he plopped down on his corner of the couch, throwing his arm over the back. She took this as an invitation and sat next to him.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” he asked. “A priest? They commit all kinds of fucking depraved sex crimes.”

“He’s quite small, I think I can handle myself,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes at her, so she tapped him on the nose, and he finally snorted, relaxing into the couch. “He doesn’t like me.”

“Well, you made him eat hot sauce, so I don’t blame him.”

“Oi, that works sometimes. I wasn’t putting him on.”

She snuggled up to him, pleased when he wrapped both arms around her like she liked. She hoped Joseph didn’t try anything creepy with her—he would not survive Nosty protecting her, she was sure of that.

“Don’t you trust my judgment?” she asked.

“Not at all, you fucking madwoman, look at the men you let into your flat.”

She struggled to her knees, then fell back into his lap so she could take his face in her hands and pull him down for a kiss.

“From where I’m sitting, I’ve made the best choices.”

“Worked out for me at least.” He pulled the blanket over, tucking them both into it, then kissed her again.

****

MacAvoy’s phone didn’t buzz with a text until dinner time, while he was spilling beans over toast and some poorly-scrambled eggs. Belle had sent him several options, and the thought of keeping all the travel straight made his stomach lurch. How had he done all this drunk? If he checked his credit card statements, would he find hundreds of pounds in taxi fare?

It was almost over, though. The endless void of weekend was endless no longer, and whenever he crawled miserably out of bed tomorrow, he could walk straight to the nearest bus stop and be that much closer to having a purpose again.

****

When shopping for pajamas, Belle never gave much thought to other people seeing them. Sometimes she favored cozy pants and a t-shirt and other times, a cool silk negligee. With Nosty there to keep her warm at night, she was glad she already had a selection of what one might consider to be sexy nightclothes.

She studied her blurry reflection in the fogged mirror after her shower, admiring as best she could the way the navy blue silk hugged her form. Nosty hadn’t said anything—she didn’t think he would—but he seemed to like running his fingers along the lace edging, and she didn’t want to discourage that by wearing a regular nightgown.

It was a little too chilly to just wander around in a negligee, so she slipped her robe on and tried not to skip happily out of the bathroom. Being too bouncy was bound to scare Nosty away.

Then, she saw him at her bookshelf, fully dressed in boots and his leather jacket, examining the titles, and her legs could no longer skip if she wanted them to, laden now with the terror that he was about to leave.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying not to accuse. Maybe he was just cold—but that didn’t explain the boots.

He turned slowly, and she knew he’d been ignoring her when she came out of the bathroom, not so absorbed in looking that he hadn’t heard her.

“Getting late.” He gestured to the clock above the TV. It was close to nine. “Best be off.”

Her lungs couldn’t remember how to take in and release air. She felt trapped somewhere in the cycle, somewhere before the oxygen went to her brain, and she wished that Nosty did not have this power over her, that she was not so beholden to his mood swings that she stopped breathing at the thought of him leaving.

“Why?”

She wanted to walk to him, to grab him by the lapels and make him look her in the eye so he’d see everything within her, but her heavy feet rooted her to the spot.

“You’ve got a fucking job, Belle.”

“So?” She tried to tell herself that she had to let him go if he wanted to. “What does that mean?”

He stomped toward the kitchen—thank god not the door—and paused in the doorway, gathering his locks into a thick bundle and then releasing them.

“So—so you’ve got a fucking real life. Starts on Mondays like all the other fucking sellouts.”

“What, so this was just a fake life? This weekend didn’t exist?”

He stuffed both hands in his pockets, and she heard a clicking noise from one of them. A knife, maybe? A lighter?

“Belle, come on.” He took a step toward the door, but her legs unfroze and she all but teleported in front of it. He backed into the kitchen doorway.

“Do you want to leave?” she asked. If he wanted to go, she wouldn’t stop him, but if he was panicking, she wasn’t going to just let him disappear into the night.

“I have to.”

She tried to listen, tried to make out his tone, but it was so hard with adrenaline pumping so fast, it nauseated her.

“Why?”

“I’ve got stuff to do. You’ve got stuff to do.”

“What stuff?” If their roles were reversed, this would look dangerous. Nosty, blocking her only exit from the apartment? Someone would lock him up. But Belle didn’t feel dangerous at all; she was just a tiny speck of a person, someone Nosty could sweep aside with one wave of his muscular arm.

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

Despair coiled in her gut, the familiar loneliness taking root where it always lived. Had she been a fool to think this could be anything? Was this just a fantasy?

“I want you to tell me why you’d rather sleep under a newspaper than in my bed.”

Finally, finally, he took a step toward her, then another and another until he was close enough to cup her face in his hands. She clenched her teeth against the moisture that threatened to spill over. She wouldn’t cry.

Apparently, she would, because seconds later, Nosty was swiping away tears with his thumb. She hadn’t thought he would do that—she’d always thought he’d run if she cried.

“A newspaper?” he asked. “What, you think I’m a fucking hobo in Oliver Twist?”

She laughed, wet with tears, and he kissed them away.

“I don’t know how you sleep. You won’t tell me anything about you,” she said.

He pulled back, letting his hands slide until they cupped her neck, watching her.

“Under a bridge, usually. Get a fire going, bottle of gin, not too shabby.”

She closed her eyes. “Stop. Don’t sugarcoat for me. I hate the thought of you out there, but you don’t have to lie if you really want to go.”

“I have to go, sweetheart.” He kissed each of her eyelids, then stepped back as she opened her eyes. “This is just a fucking holiday from your real life. Trust me, you’ll be happier this way.”

“Don’t tell me what makes me happy.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, and he looked down in surprise. “You don’t get to decide for me. If you want to go because you’re scared, that’s your choice, but don’t put it on me.”

“I’m not fucking scared!”

“You are.” She jabbed him one more time, then folded her arms. “Coward.”

“Oi!” He reared back, pressing a hand to his heart. “I’m no fucking coward. You want me to stay? I’ll fucking stay.”

“Don’t stay just to prove a point.” The tears welled up again, but this time, she didn’t try to stop them. “If you’d rather be alone on a sidewalk with your gin, then go.”

He licked his lips, and his movements were like he was squaring up again, but he was too scared to commit to it. Good. He should be afraid of her if he was going to tell her what to do.

“How the fuck is this supposed to work, Belle? What the fuck are we doing?”

“I don’t know, Nosty, it’s only been three days. I thought maybe we’d figure it out as we go, like most couples, instead of having an existential crisis over bedtime.”

It felt mean to say, but this didn’t look like it upset Nosty as much as being called a coward. In fact, he settled, watching her like she might attack and he wouldn’t be ready for it.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Neither do I.” She stepped one foot toward him and when he didn’t back away, continued. “No one knows what to do at the beginning. This isn’t a Jane Austen novel. There’s no courtship ritual. Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

He nodded, and she walked until they were chest to chest, but didn’t move to touch him.

“Are you sure?”

“I’d rather sleep on the mat outside your door like a dog than go back to the sidewalk with my fucking gin,” he said.

Tentative, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart thump as wildly as hers. He started moving, and it wasn’t until his jacket thudded to the floor that she realized why, and then he was wrapping his arms around her, and those lonely roots backed off. Maybe someday, they’d disappear.

“I want to be with you,” she said, putting as much firmness in her voice as she could with her cheek pressed so tightly to his sternum, she couldn’t fully form words.

“You’re crazy,” he said. “But that suits me.”

“Stop telling me I’m crazy.” She leaned away to look at him, but not enough that she had to loosen her grip. “Stop acting like I can’t make up my own mind.”

“I just don’t get it.” He tapped on her forehead. “Intelligent bird like you—what the fuck are you thinking?”

“It doesn’t matter if you get it. It only matters that you trust me.”

He kissed her on the forehead then, a gesture of such comfortable intimacy, she almost cried again.

“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Why are your boots still on then?”

He snorted. “Can’t take ‘em off with a whole fuckin’ woman hanging off me, can I?”

“Not my problem.”

He moved her arms from his hips to his shoulders, and before she realized what was happening, he’d hoisted her up by the waist to carry her to the bedroom where he all but threw her on the bed.

“Stay there,” he ordered, and this time, she didn’t mind being told what to do. “And take your robe off.”

She obeyed, trying not to panic when he stomped out and calming when she heard the bathroom door swing shut. By the time he returned, she was lounging back in her silk negligee, and he wore a new pair of sweats and nothing else.

“When do you get up for work?” he asked.

“Seven,” she said. “But if I pick out my outfit the night before, I can sleep in a bit.”

He wandered over to her closet, sliding the door open so he could flick through everything. Within a few seconds, he’d plucked a forest green dress from its hanger and thrown it over her vanity.

“There. Good enough?”

“I need stockings and shoes.”

She didn’t really, but watching him root around in her drawers to find a suitable roll of stockings and then her closet for matching shoes brought a smile to her face. He came up with nude hose and a pair of black pumps, adding them to the vanity when she nodded her approval, and then he was in bed with her, cocooning them in the comforter and wrapping himself around her like she’d disappear if he didn’t.

“I like the way you dress.” He ran his thumb along the lace hem, just like she’d thought he would, and then his hand wandered to her thigh.

“I think you look very dashing in a kilt.”

“Dashing, eh?”

His fingers whispered along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and she flooded with heat, the loneliness banished for the night.

“Very.”

He kissed her shoulder, moving toward her neck with his lips, and she wanted to turn around, participate, but he held her steady with his arms around her, and when he closed his teeth around her skin and sucked, she decided she didn’t mind.

“Nosty,” she sighed, and he pulled his lips away with a pop. His hand slid up her skirt, resting on her stomach, and she could feel that he was enjoying his attentions to her as much as she was, the evidence pressed up to her back.

“Tell me something,” he whispered, nipping her earlobe.

“Tell you what?”

“Anything.” He stroked his hand up, brushing the underside of her breast with just the tip of his finger, the closest he’d ever come to really touching her. “Something no one else knows.”

She wanted to give his question thought, but it was so hard when she was lightheaded with the feel of him, the relief he was here.

“You already know everything,” she said. “I’m an open book.”

“Too open. I want you all to meself.” His fingers ghosted along her breast, and when one brushed her nipple, she gasped. “Tell me who else has done this.”

He ran his thumb around her nipple this time with a little more force, a little more intention, and she felt like she could come just from that. This was dangerous territory.

“No one’s ever—” She cried out again when he bit down on her shoulder. “No one’s ever done anything more than just—”

He pinched her nipple and she thrashed, but his other hand came around to hold her against him at the hip.

“Keep talking, sweetheart,” he said. “Let me hear your voice.”

“I’ve only had bad sex,” she said. “It’s always been better alone.”

He licked the mark he’d undoubtedly left on her neck, then kissed her shoulder. “Forget all that,” he growled, and she could have disintegrated. “I want you to feel good.”

“I feel good.”

Still flicking his thumb back and forth across her nipple, his other hand ran along the edge of her knickers, between her thighs, gently stroking the sensitive skin there.

“I can’t—” she tried, but when he ran a finger along her knickers, she moaned.

“Can’t what?”

“Reciprocate. Not until—”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” He switched to her other breast, and she had never had anyone use their hands so deftly, so tenderly. “Tell me what feels good.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, although maybe nice wasn’t the right word when he was ghosting his finger between her legs, just hard enough to tease her.

“I want to hear you scream.” He bit her shoulder. “I’ve wanted to do this since I met you.”

“You’ll—oh—you’ll have to work for it.” This was likely not true—she was on the verge of screaming right then, and he’d barely done anything.

“Anything, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

She wanted him to stay, to be in her bed when she woke up tomorrow and again when she went to sleep. He drove the words out of her mind, stopping his ministrations to use both hands to tug her knickers off, and then he was running a finger along her wet skin, and she shuddered.

“I didn’t realize how much you fucking liked me,” he said, and the teasing note in his voice only made her want to scream his name more, but she kept her mouth shut.

“I didn’t know you were so good with your hands.”

“I’ll show you, sweetheart.” He slipped the tip of his finger inside her and she did cry out then, rolling her hips as he gently moved in and out. “Any bastard who didn’t take the time to do this was a fucking idiot.”

She agreed—not even the thick feel of a vibrator felt as all-encompassing, as earth-shattering as Nosty’s finger exploring her while his other hand tended to her breasts and he licked and sucked and kissed along her neck and shoulder.

He slid his finger in further, pinching a nipple as he did, and she lost sense of time as he drew from her all manner of whimpers and sighs and cries of his name.

“Oh god, Nosty,” she said when the pleasure had built so high, she didn’t know if there was anywhere else to go.

“That’s it, love,” he growled. “You’re fucking beautiful, I promise I’ll let you come soon.”

She didn’t know that the idea of being allowed to come would fill her with just as much heat as the feel of his teeth scraping along her bare skin, but she moaned at that, and he groaned in response.

Then, he slipped his finger out of her and up to her clit. She had never put much stock in the fireworks described in romance novels, but she felt it then, electricity all over, and then it crested and burst, and she screamed Nosty’s name as she came, clenching around his hand. He held her, rubbing her gently until she stopped convulsing.

“You are perfect,” he whispered, and she thought she might come again.

“So are you,” she said.

Tenderly, he kissed the side of her neck, sliding his hands off of her and righting her nightgown. Her knickers were lost somewhere in the bed, but she could find them later.

Once free, she shifted until they faced one another, cupping his cheek this time.

“I don’t want tonight to end,” she said. She kissed him softly on the corner of the mouth, and he clutched at her hip.

“Me neither.”

She rubbed her thumb along his stubble, loving the feel of it and the way his eyes drifted shut when she did. “Nosty?”

“Mm?”

“Do you feel safe here?”

He was quiet, and she wondered if she’d done something wrong, said something stupid. Then he took her hand from his cheek and slid it down, pressing her palm to his chest, watching their fingers instead of her.

“It’s more dangerous here than anywhere else,” he murmured. “You’ve got a fist around all me most vital organs.”

“I’ll take good care of them.” She moved his hand to her heart as well, knowing he could feel the I love you thumping against her breastbone, and she didn’t care. “As long as you return the favor.”

He leaned down, nuzzling his nose against hers. “I’ll keep you safe.” His lips hovered near hers. “You’ll never have to worry as long as I’m here.”

His heart beat against her hand, a steady, powerful drum. “I trust you,” she said.

Nosty finally kissed her then, and as he rolled them over to blanket her with his body, she had never felt safer.

[chapter 7]

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