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“With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean
She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene
With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean
She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene”
Hozier; Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene 🖤🥀
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*Beatrice*
Beatrice has always considered herself a patient person. Whether that was the result of her own nature or her upbringing, she will never know, doesn’t really want to.
But she is patient, can be patient, will be patient.
When she renounces her vows, turns her back to the gates of Cat’s Cradle, to the OCS, it’s freeing in a way that Beatrice had never truly realised existed. She says goodbye to Mother Superion, Camila, the rest, knowing she will never truly leave the fight, will most likely end up assuming a similar role to Mary, but she will do it freely, without shame of who she is, without fear of God’s judgement.
Waiting isn’t what hurts the most. It’s the knowledge that Ava is alone, wherever she is, and that is a pain greater than any blade or bullet wound can achieve. So she finds herself seeking out whatever small comforts she can.
She returns to the Alps, finds herself working back at Bar La Vasseur, with Hans and the regulars greeting her with open arms the moment she steps through the door. Hans doesn’t ask where Ava is, not really anyway, and for that Beatrice is grateful.
“Sie wird eine Weile nicht zurückkommen,” she says when he does ask when she will return, words forced from behind a clenched jaw. Thankfully, he leaves it at that, walks behind the bar and busies himself by mixing a drink. She doesn’t spare a glance at the tall glass he places down, picking it up while her eyes scan the figures from the months of her absence, a clear decline in numbers, they were very much missed. The moment her lips touch the liquid something in her gut churns, a Cuba Libre, it’s not the same, never will be, and Beatrice wants to cry.
Beatrice still prays, but for very different reasons now. Sitting on her couch with a single candle lit on the coffee table, her prayers to Ava are recited with far more reverence than she ever afforded to God, and the words do not hang heavy on her tongue as they used to, they flow easy, truthfully, open, unbound. She talks to Ava, hopes she can hear, and when she finishes with whatever her heart wills her to say, she signs off the same way. “I will live my life for you,” always a whisper, “and when you return, there will be a place for you here with me.”
The Alps gives Beatrice a chance at a new life, away from the world of angels and demons Ava wished her to leave. She makes Hans takes her to his barber, and the man grins so wide she worries he’ll pull a muscle as he drags her out of the bar when his shift ends. Once, a long time ago she’d read that hair could hold onto trauma, and it was time for a new look anyway. When she walked out of the place, running her hand over the shaved stubble on the sides of her head she felt lighter, it was only an undercut, and if she left her hair down no one would be the wiser, but it was something for her, and no one could take that.
Many other changes occur over time, but others stay the same. She still holds onto her magnificent management skills, Bar La Vasseur’s revenue increasing with her return by shocking numbers despite Ava’s absence. She still forces herself to wake up and train, though far lighter than previously, still holds on to her long walks through the mountains on her days off despite the feeling that the Halo Bearer should share in the moments she has. She meditates in the peaceful beauty of the forested areas just past the village, listening to the rhythmic flow of the river and rustling of trees, thinks of Ava with every inhale of air to her lungs. She still drinks Cuba Libre’s, no matter how terribly they taste when made by someone other than Ava, she sticks to drinking her iced tea most days.
Most mornings she wakes up later in the day, she’s never been a morning person, Ava, with all her boundless and uncontained energy, was her alarm clock when they had been in hiding. It’s mid-June, and rain patters softly against the window pane as she sits on her sunken couch with a blanket thrown across her knees, sipping her tea that softly steams in the cool air of the apartment. She want to share this with Ava, wants to show the Halo Bearer what their new life can be like, what it will be like when everything is over. She wants to have the lazy mornings and wild nights, wants to watch Ava struggle with laundry, wash dishes shoulder to shoulder, do taxes while she inevitably complains. God, she wants.
Patience is a virtue she has always held, it served her in her time as a Sister Warrior, just as it serves her now, waiting for the day Ava will come back to her.
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*Beatrice*
To say Ava’s return catches Beatrice by surprise would be a drastic understatement. Eight months, two weeks and three days had passed since the former Sister Warrior had let Ava pass to the other side. Every moment of every day Beatrice thinks of the Halo Bearer, and even though she doesn’t know when Ava will be back, she keeps her promise, to live her life.
It happens one late January night, and Beatrice is stumbling back to her apartment through well-lit streets following a night out with Hans and his boyfriend Erik.
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The bar they had walked to was filled with people, and Beatrice had stayed close to Hans as they approached a server, she’d downed several cocktails over the course of the night, chatting idly to the two men as she sipped her fifth drink of the night. She remained on her perch at the bar when Erik dragged Hans out onto the dancefloor, watched with a smile as the two men began dancing, being able to enjoy their time without fear of judgement.
How she’d grown, watching too lovers together no longer brought a deep sense of shame and guilt to her own heart. She knew herself now, knew her place in the world and with God, knew that Ava loved her, and that who she loved did not define her, did not condemn her. It had been a hard-fought lesson, one that developed over many tearful nights and guilt-ridden mornings, but she had learned. She’d smiled to herself at the knowledge she had kept her promise, turned to the bartender and ordered several shots.
She’d almost taken a girl home, the blonde had approached her at the bar, some line about her style shouted over the noise of the music and a gentle hand placed strategically against her bicep. She was, admittedly, quite beautiful, and Beatrice appreciated her being considerate, “you’re not uncomfortable?" She'd shaken her head, and ended up kissing and dancing and drinking with her most of the night. She was enjoying herself, but the moment a whispered, “wanna get out of here?” reached her ears, something had told Beatrice not to, it didn’t feel right, honestly, it never did.
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Now, walking back home, she shoves her hands into the deep pockets of her loose black pants (she’d rather die than wear skinny jeans), shrugging her jacket further on her shoulders as she walks toward her place. Beatrice tilts her hair back, breathes in deeply, cool air brining a sweet burn to her lungs that she relishes. It clears her mind, enough that her training alerts her to a presence following her, the hairs at the back of her neck prickle, the feeling clearing through the fog of her drunken state almost instantly. Her body tenses but she keeps walking, and her hand drifts to the blade hidden within her jacket.
She focuses on her surroundings, ears catching the soft footfalls shadowing hers, she doesn’t look back, doesn’t alert the stalker to her knowledge of their presence. Her eyes scan ahead and catch an alleyway twenty metres away. Beatrice walks casually toward her goal, consciously ensuring she doesn’t break her pace, doesn’t turn her head too far, she turns sharply into the alley and catches the figure from her peripheral vision.
Beatrice quickly tucks herself against the wall, hand withdrawing the blade from within her jacket and held ready in her hand, grip tightening as she listens. The footsteps approach, a faster pace, heavier footfalls, and every ounce of her training in the OCS comes flooding back through her body. Their shadow appears across the cobbles stones, and the former Sister Warrior counts in her head.
Three...
Two...
One...
As soon as the figure’s foot passes the line that divides the streetlights from shadow, Beatrice shoves off the wall and throws them against the opposing bricks with a movement that causes a loud thud to echo in the silence. The figure’s head slams against the wall, and they let out a pained gasp. The blade presses against the target’s throat, Beatrice’s grip tightening to the point where the leather around the handle creaks, and her other arm twists the stalker’s wrist at an awkward angle, threatening to snap the joint.
She snarls at them, ready to threaten death to whoever this is, and yet...
A breath in, the overpowering smell of honeysuckle and lavender filling her lungs.
That scent...
“Oh fuck that’s hot.”
That voice...
She leans back, and the face that returns her gaze makes her makes her lungs seize, her heart stop.
Those eyes...
“Ava?”
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*Ava*
The Beatrice Ava returns to is... different. To say the least.
It’s not like Ava expected her to be the exact same, she guesses eight months will probably lead to some form of change. Ava almost falls over when she catches sight of Beatrice for the first time, thinks it can’t possibly be the same woman, because ‘holy fucking shit.’ There’s the style for one, she’s clearly dressed for a night out, hair down, a pair of black pants, white converse with a black denim jacket tied around her hips and swaying with each step she takes. Beatrice is wearing a loose buttoned shirt, the sleeves rolled up just past her elbows with dark red, black and white horizontal stripes, and the first three buttons are unbuttoned. Ava doesn’t think she’s seen so much of Beatrice’s neck and chest in her life and it almost sends her falling off the roof she’s spying from, “I mean hot fucking damn!”
She trails Beatrice and Hans from a distance, the Halo allowing her to remain hidden by trekking along the rooftops as she follows, ‘if Mother Superion could see me now!’ She perches on the roof of a florist as they enter a bar across the crowded street and Ava finds herself unconsciously drifting down the side of the building, the halo pulsing gently at her back as her feet touch the ground. She pulls her beanie a little tighter over her head, straightens her jacket and exits the back lane, crosses the street and follows inside.
It’s not their usual bar, she won’t be easily recognised, and the place is packed. Bodies press against her on every side as she fights her way through the crowd to find a discreet place to watch. She posts herself at the very front corner of the bar, tucked just far enough from the door that she can duck behind some people when Beatrice leaves. She picks a target, a hand on his bicep and a sweet smile has him almost falling over himself to get her a drink. ‘Flirting for alcohol, classy Silva, classy.’ But she knows it’s not just for the free drinks, the Halo Bearer desperately wants to avoid approaching the bar... approaching Beatrice.
//////////
So much time had passed, though for Ava it felt closer to several decades than eight months. But despite Camila’s assurances that Bea asked after her every time they called, that small voice in the back of her head told her that she wasn’t worth holding onto for that long. Ava hadn’t aged much, according to Jillian the Halo had kept her youth tethered to what she called the “mortal plane.” Honestly she’d tuned out for half of it because she was so deeply disoriented and exhausted that even if she had wanted to listen (which she didn’t) it wouldn’t have registered.
All she had cared about was finding Beatrice, and lucky for her, Camila had told her she had reinstated contact with the OCS only two weeks before the arc had suddenly crackled to life and spat the Halo Bearer back out. She’d gone through final health checks from Jillian with irritation and impatience before finally being able to leave, catching the first flight to Switzerland and making her way back to Bea.
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She watches from afar, wanting to see if inserting herself back in Beatrice’s life is what the former nun would want. Though she knows Beatrice is still involved in the order, a mercenary of sorts like Mary, she holds herself back. Ava understands the baggage she comes with far more intimately now, knows the sacrifices Bea will make, the inevitability of what this coming Holy War will take.
But when she sees Beatrice dancing, head tipped back and long corded muscle of her neck tensing, god does she want to approach. Wants to feel her skin again and press her lips to every inch she can reach, wants everything Beatrice will give her, oh god does she want.
She watches Bea dance and drink with some random blonde woman, she’s pretty, and it makes Ava’s heart drop every time the woman leans in close. Beatrice does kiss her, out on the dancefloor, hands comfortably at her waist, thankfully Ava doesn’t see the whole thing, but something in her is happy Beatrice is living her life the way Ava wished. ‘The messages you heard weren’t real, she’s happy,’ she tells herself, but as she gets up to leave she sees the woman lean in and whisper in Bea’s ear. Something in Beatrice’s face looks pained, and she shakes her head, and by some divine fucking intervention Ava hears the former nun’s words.
“I’m sorry,” she strains to hear in the lull of the music, the Halo warms at her back and she focuses its energy “I- I’m waiting for someone, I can’t.” With those words Ava finds herself thanking whatever God is out there for Beatrice. Noble, kind, beautiful Beatrice who waited almost a whole fucking year for her. The Halo Bearer holds back tears as she sees the woman nod, slight disappointment on her face but understanding.
Ava watches as the former nun walks over to Hans and wave goodbye before quickly heading onto the street. The Halo Bearer quickly excuses herself from the man who she had been ignoring for almost the entire time at the bar, shifts through the crowd and bursts onto the street, seeing Beatrice power-walking -more stumbling if she’s honest- toward her home.
Ava follows relatively close, because there’s no way Beatrice could be that alert after what Ava guessed was at a minimum six cocktails, several shots and about four bottles of some kind of spiced rum. “I’m surprised she’s fucking standing.” She highly doubts Beatrice would be able to hear a horse running behind her.
How wrong she is.
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*Ava*
“Oh fuck that’s hot” she wheezes, the tip of a blade digging into the underside of her jaw and a hand twisting her wrist almost to the point of breaking. ‘this should be scary, I should not be turned on right now... get a grip Silva.’
A look of confusion and then realisation dawns across Beatrice’s face.
“Ava?” She breathes, and the questioning, almost mistrustful look in the former nun’s eyes breaks Ava’s fucking heart.
“It- It’s me Bea,” she gasps against the blade, registers the way Beatrice’s forearm is crushing her windpipe at the angle she holds her knife, “can’t. breathe.”
Beatrice throws herself off Ava as though struck by lightning, but before the Halo Bearer can make any move toward her, Beatrice is already throwing herself back into Ava’s space, pressing their lips together in a desperate, passionate kiss.
It’s nothing like their first, it’s sloppy and desperate and uncoordinated and it’s fucking everything Ava’s been dreaming of since she left. It’s not filled with the weight of a goodbye, it’s not stained with their tears -not sad ones at least- and Ava soaks every moment in. The way Beatrice sucks on her lip and how her hands grasp possessively at Ava’s hips, lower back, her neck.
They break apart with a gasp, and Beatrice presses their foreheads together as she sucks in air, hands coming up to rest against Ava’s neck, one hand cupping her jaw and the other cradling her head.
“You’re home,” She breathes, “oh God you’re here.” Ava can hear the tears in her voice and leans in closer, bringing her own hands up to cup Bea’s face, swiping her thumbs gently against her cheekbones to collect the tears. “I love you,” her voice shudders, and Ava’s heart launches itself in her throat, “I have for so long.”
“I’m here,” she nods, a laugh in her voice as she presses her lips against the former nun’s forehead, “I love you too.”
They stand there for what feels like forever, the Halo healing what Ava guesses would have been one hell of a concussion while Beatrice keeps her arms wrapped tight around her waist and back, as if trying to keep her tethered with her. Ava’s hand rests against the back of Bea’s neck, stroking softly against her hair.
Eventually she feels Bea shiver slightly, and gently eases the former nun back, hands holding her forearms. “Let’s go home.” She says, watching as Beatrice smiles and takes her hand.
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*Ava*
Ava had imagined the moment of their reunion so many times, when you have what feels like forever to yourself, your mind tends to wander, and boy did it wander. But nothing, not a single thing in the fucking universe, could prepare her for the reality she’s living.
Beatrice slams her against the hallway after throwing open the door to her apartment, kicking it closed with a loud reverberating bang. She presses Ava against the wall with a hand at her waist, the other grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling it back, forcing the Halo Bearer to arch and exposing her throat. Ava gasps harshly into the air as the former nun latches onto her neck.
“Didn’t expect this kind of homecoming,” Ava pants, a smile on her lips and a trembling moan forced from her mouth as Beatrice tightens her grip on her hair, presses biting kisses into her throat, making her claim against the Halo Bearer’s skin. Her hands stroke along the tensing muscles of Beatrice’s back, easing off her jacket and listening to the rustle of fabric as the former nun flings it to land with a thud on the couch. Ava brings her hands higher as Beatrice sucks harder at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, a moan erupting from her throat and a hand travelling upward to stroke along the former nun’s neck, and that’s when she feels it. The stubble of an undercut that hid under Beatrice’s long hair, ‘holy fucking fuck that’s so hot, god I hope she puts it up-’
A low growl sounds from Beatrice’s throat as she grasps Ava’s jaw in one hand, directing the Halo Bearer back into a bruising kiss. Ava groans as the woman presses her harder against the wall, the hand at her jaw dropping to rest at her throat, it doesn’t squeeze, just holds her there, a show of dominance that makes Ava’s cunt throb. The Halo Bearer lets Beatrice take everything she wants, opening her mouth for Beatrice, allowing her tongue to dominate this dance they have. Ava lets out a high-pitched whine when Beatrice bites down on her bottom lip, and the hand scratching against Beatrice’s clothed back shoots down to cup her own centre as a bolt of heat shoots through her stomach, pressing hard against the seam of her jeans and doing her best to grind.
Beatrice, fucking perfect, attentive, infuriatingly perceptive Beatrice, snatches her hand away and Ava wants to fucking cry. A strangled sob escapes her as the former nun forces the offending hand beside her head with a snarl, but as Ava’s about to protest, she’s dropping her hands down to Ava’s thighs and lifting. And oh fuck if Ava hasn’t dreamt about this moment. She wraps her legs around Beatrice’s hips, hooking them at the base of her spine and pulling the former nun’s face into hers, crashing their lips together.
“Bedroom,” she pants, capturing Beatrice’s bottom lip and sucking hard, and Beatrice is already walking toward the room. Ava’s hands stroke down her neck and pull the collar of Beatrice’s shirt further apart, lips pressing into the exposed skin of her chest, mouthing and biting, “I want you to touch me Bea.”
As soon as they cross the threshold Beatrice places one knee on the bed, laying her down so fucking tenderly, it’s giving Ava whiplash, the change in demeanour. The former nun crawls up onto the bed as Ava sits up, straddling her thighs and bringing her hand back to the Halo Bearer’s neck.
Beatrice leads their kiss again, hands quickly finding the hem of the Halo Bearer’s shirt and pulling it over her head the moment Ava hums in affirmation, forcing them to break apart. Beatrice smiles, presses a kiss to Ava’s mouth before leaning back and unbuttoning her shirt. With trembling hands the Halo Bearer helps her shrug the material off, revealing toned, subtle muscle that tenses as Ava skims her hands along the contours of her body. But it’s not the only thing that catches the Halo Bearer’s eyes. In the soft light of the bedroom, dark contours flow along Beatrice’s shoulders and Ava can’t quite stop the catch in her breath, black illustrations of flowers trail down her biceps, beautifully detailed lines and shadows that shift with every twitch of Beatrice’s arms. A snake, carefully and delicately designed, coils around Bea’s left arm, it’s head resting just below her collarbone, and Ava questions how she hadn’t fucking noticed it.
She tentatively reaches toward it with her hand, and Beatrice allows Ava to explore the new skin revealed, her hands trace delicately against the dark lines and shadows of flowers, leaves and traditional styled dragons that adorn her skin. It’s everything, finally feeling Beatrice’s naked skin at her fingertips, Ava couldn’t think of anything more beautiful. Above her, Beatrice’s shaky exhale washes over Ava’s naked back when she leans forward and presses her lips over her heart. The Halo Bearer’s hands rise to the back of Beatrice’s bra, and the older woman nods as Ava looks up at her, she unhooks the item, watches as it falls down Bea’s shoulders.
She’s never seen anything so beautiful.
Beatrice sits stiff, watching with a clenched jaw as Ava reaches out to cup one of her breasts. Ava looks up at her, wants to convey just how much she loves her, wants her, worships her. She presses her lips to the top of her left breast, feels the heavy thrum of Bea’s heart, hears the heavy exhale from above and begins to lower her mouth. Before Ava can finally claim her prize, she is rudely interrupted. She watches helplessly as Beatrice draws back, her hands shifting to Ava’s hips and gripping the waistband of her jeans as she shuffles backward.
“Can I-”
“Yes,” Ava breathes, “fuck, yes.”
With one swift movement Beatrice tugs off Ava’s jeans and underwear together, and they join the rest of their clothes on the bedroom floor. Ava’s fully naked now, Beatrice still has her pants on, but something about that difference sends a thrill up Ava’s spine. The feeling of exposure, the want she feels for Beatrice to own her, to aikido her into submission... it sets fire to her veins and pools heavy in her cunt.
“How do you want me,” Bea whispers, hand stroking along Ava’s ribs, and fire burns through her veins wherever Bea’s fingers trail.
Ava raises her hands, fingers tracing along Beatrice’s face reverently, “make me yours,” she leans up, voice husky, pressing their lips together, “however you want to,” she breathes, “we can save the soft shit for later, right now I wanna feel you.”
Beatrice smiles softly, and Ava watches as some kind of switch flips, the hand once framing Ava’s neck travelling back to seize her hair, pulling her head back as she leans down to whisper, “as you wish, darling.”
Oh god, she’s so fucked.
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*Ava*
The moment the word “darling” dripped from Beatrice’s lips Ava knew she was absolutely fucked. Bea was never one to back down from a challenge.
Ava’s hands find themselves held in one of Beatrice’s, strong hand encasing both her wrists, forcing them above her head as the former nun travels down her body. Beatrice’s lips blaze a path along her skin, sucking biting marks into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, grazing down to her collarbone where she nips the taught skin and Ava pants Beatrice’s name. The former nun looks up at her from hooded eyes, waiting until Ava’s own flick down to her before the former nun dips her tongue into the hollow of her collarbone, collecting the light sheen of sweat with a smirk on her lips and Ava can’t help but gasp at the drag of wet warmth against her skin.
Beatrice chuckles lowly, her chest vibrating low as she trails kisses down Ava’s chest, her head down and wrapping her lips around one of Ava’s painfully hard nipples. Ava whines sharply, her back arching as Beatrice sucks, teeth grazing the taught flesh as her tongue swirls tight circles against the bud. Her other hand is coming up, grasping Ava’s neglected breast and squeezing as Ava’s eyes roll backward, a moan rolling from her throat as she tips her head back, and as Beatrice releases the seal of her mouth, blowing softly against the wet skin, Ava jerks harshly with a surprised yelp.
Beatrice switches, her free hand coming up to squeeze Ava’s now released nipple, biting and sucking until both are hard and painful and with every drag of Beatrice’s tongue against the taught bud, lighting shocks through her nerves and heat pools at the base of her spine. She’s wet, so fucking wet, and she feels it with every shift of her legs, rubbing them together in a desperate attempt at gaining friction.
“Let me take care of you,” Beatrice whispers, hand releasing the Halo Bearer’s wrists with a final squeeze and dragging both down to Ava’s thighs, spreading them and slotting her hips between them. She drops her head to Ava’s stomach, pressing kisses onto her heaving ribs, nipping at the taught skin of her hips as she works lower. She draws Ava’s thighs to rest on her shoulders, blunt nails digging possessively into the muscles, Beatrice looks up at Ava, and the Halo Bearer’s breath escapes her in a heavy sigh, Beatrice smiles, pressing a kiss just above her mound, “let me worship you, my darling.”
And Ava is devoured.
Beatrice’s tongue runs a molten line over Ava’s trimmed centre and a deep moan is forced from Ava’s throat, her hands immediately dropping to the body between her legs, one to clutch at Beatrice’s long hair, pushing her head closer, the other scratching along her shoulders. The former nun lifts her head and wraps her lips around Ava’s clit, and everything almost whites out.
Ava relishes in the feeling of Beatrice’s hands snaking up her thighs, squeezing the muscles between strong fingers and the Halo Bearer gasps, tipping her head back. Beatrice’s hands finally reach Ava’s ass, and the former nun squeezes hard in time with a harsh suck to the Halo Bearer’s clit, causing Ava to shriek and buck harshly against Beatrice’s restraining hold. “Hold still,” Bea growls, biting and sucking against Ava’s inner thigh before adjusting her hold on Ava’s ass, pulling the Halo Bearer up to her mouth so only her upper back remained on the bed.
“Fuck Bea, fuck,” she moans, “holy shit please.”
Beatrice draws Ava further into her mouth, arms locking around Ava’s thighs as they press rhythmically against her head, snaking her tongue down to the Halo Bearer’s opening and printing pressure against the opening, fluttering the muscle around her lips and feeling them clench. Ava jolts, moaning at the feeling of Beatrice’s molten tongue pulsing against her entrance, the pressure of the muscle at her cunt sending her head shooting through her body and she can feel the slick dripping from her entrance, her hands bunch harshly in Bea’s hair, tugging her closer, moaning, pleading with desperate whines.
Beatrice was unrelenting, switching between deep plunges of her tongue against Ava’s pulsing entrance, and heavy sucks of Ava’s clit with vicious swipes of the hot muscle. Ava lets out panting cries with every pass of Beatrice’s tongue against her clit. Continuous gasps of “please, please, please,” punched out of her in time with Beatrice’s tongue flexing against her entrance.
The older woman breaks away, groaning as she licks a teasing stripe up Ava’s soaked cunt, “what do you need?” She asks, fingers digging into Ava’s ass cheeks as the Halo Bearer Moans wordlessly and cants her hips against Bea’s hold. “Answer me, darling.” She demands, squeezing harder and biting harshly into the skin of Ava’s inner thigh.
Ava pants and whines, “want more,” she groans, still trying to grind against something, anything, “wanna see your face, look ‘n your- your eyes as I come for you.”
The Halo Bearer hears Beatrice’s breath hitch before she’s lowered back to the sheets. She protests as Beatrice begins to draw back and tries to sit up but a hand pressed to her chest shushes further complaints. “Keep yourself ready, touch yourself Ava, show me what you like,” Ava can feel her cunt pulse as she spreads her legs and presses her hand to her clit almost instantly, she moans, raising the other hand to pinch and roll her nipple, watches through half-lidded eyes as Beatrice slowly undoes the belt around her pants. “Good, keep going darling, don’t stop until I tell you,” the words and praise flow across Ava’s body and its as if her nerves only function at Beatrice’s orders.
Ava’s fingers circle her own clit, feels the nerves pulsing heavily with every tight stroke, she lets out little whimpers and gasps, crying Beatrice’s name and watching as she finally strips herself of everything, watches as she pulls down her pants and boy-cut underwear, revealing carefully trimmed dark curls at the apex of her thighs, she moans, and her moth waters at the shine between Beatrice’s thighs that glistens in the low light of the bedroom.
Beatrice climbs back on the bed, and Ava watches the tones muscle in her shoulders, stomach, thighs, tense and bunch, looks at the inked shadows that contort along her arms. She lets go of her breast, runs the fingers of her free hand over the dark contours, still moaning and arching into her own hand as she looks at Bea with desperate eyes. Beatrice captures Ava’s hand in hers as it strokes along the lines of a snake’s scales, she takes the hand, presses a kiss to the knuckles. “Stop,” she says lowly, and it takes everything in Ava to listen, to obey.
She withdraws her hand with a pained whine, but finds Beatrice’s fingers gently ghosting along her outer lips almost immediately. “You’re so beautiful, my darling,” she whispers, and Ava wound so fucking tight she knows she gonna snap soon. Beatrice circles Ava’s clit, leaning down on her right forearm to hold herself over the Halo Bearer, hand gently stroking along Ava’s hairline.
She continues to stroke along Ava’s folds, gathering wetness as Ava pants heavily against Beatrice’s sweat-damp skin, mouthing at the woman’s muscular shoulder, whining on every exhale as the strokes twist heat further in her core. Beatrice takes her middle and pointer finger and gently pressing them into Ava’s entrance, only to the first knuckle, and Ava sees stars. “You’re so wet Ava,” she whispers, biting the Halo Bearer’s earlobe and running her tongue along its shell, she slowly withdraws, and on the second push, burying her fingers to the hilt, Ava moans so loud she knows the neighbours will hear.
"For- for you Bea,” she breathes against Beatrice’s skin, “I- ‘m wet for you,” arching her back and thrusting her hips against the former nun’s fingers. “All the time,” she gasps, “always thinking about you,” Beatrice twists her fingers inside Ava, curling upward with every stroke and listening to every moan and gasp as she thrusts in and out.
“You’re so tight around me,” Beatrice whispers, “so good darling, so good for me.”
Ava’s eyes roll back in her head, the praise washing over her and causing her cunt to throb harder, feeling Beatrice drop her lips to the Halo Bearer’s exposed throat as her fingers flex inside her. Beatrice continues pumping her fingers, pressing kisses into Ava’s throat, sucking and biting harder with every whine, moan and gasp traveling up her windpipe.
As Beatrice pumps her fingers faster, the sound of the Halo Bearer’s cries fills the room, combined with the slick sound of Beatrice’s fingers entering her. At a particularly sharp thrust one of Ava’s hands launches into Beatrice’s hair and pulls he woman to look at her, her fingers scratch against Beatrice’s skull and she groans as the older woman drags against her G sport hard.
She pants heavily, feeling molten heat rush into her core, static travel up her body, setting fire to her nerves, nipples tightening, heart racing, hips thrusting erratically as she hung on the precipice, she needed a push, needed- “Bea-” she gasps, “fuck Bea co- coming, ‘m gonna-”
Beatrice keeps the pace, pressing a kiss to Ava’s forehead, a groaned, “come for me.”
And all Ava sees is white.
========
*Beatrice*
Something has taken over Beatrice, consuming her. The moment she had seen all of Ava, realised that she truly was here with her, any semblance of composure the former nun had evaporated. Fuck the waiting, fuck patience. She’s been waiting too long already. As Ava said, they can ‘save the soft shit for later.’
She watches as Ava comes down from her high, ceases the movement of her fingers, simply leaving them there for Ava to grip onto, feeling the rhythmic pulling of her cunt around them. She leans over the Halo Bearer, dropping kisses on her sweaty hairline, stroking along it with her free hand then rubbing up and down Ava’s heaving ribs. “Easy darling,” she soothes, “so beautiful Ava, so perfect for me,” Ava whines low as she comes back to herself, and Beatrice slowly, carefully extracts her fingers, kissing the Halo Bearer in apology when a punched-out groan escapes her lips.
As they lie together Ava regains her breath, she leans toward Beatrice, presses a kiss to her shoulder and holds her close, “I’m so glad I get to be yours,” she says, kissing along the former nun’s jawline, “I love you Bea.” The moment Ava withdraws, a fire reignites in Beatrice’s veins, a possessive need to claim Ava consumes her, and she pushes insistently against Ava’s shoulder.
“Turn over,” she orders, and Ava finds herself flipped onto her stomach, face pressed into the pillows. “If you’re uncomfortable, or if you don’t like anything I do, tell me to stop, and I will,” and Ava is almost immediately nodding, “words, Ava.”
“Yes,” she breathes, “yes Bea.”
Beatrice leans over Ava’s prone form, chest pressing against her upper back, her lips tracing along the shell of her ear. “You’re mine,” she growls, low and husky and Ava lets out a helpless moan, pushing her ass against Beatrice’s hips. One of Bea’s hands shoots down, holds Ava’s hip tight and forces the Halo Bearer to stop, “you’re mine,” she insists again, setting her teeth against the tip of Ava’s ear and pulling sharply before releasing, “say it, again” she growls, “say it.” She needs it, needs to hear her say it again, needs to know it wasn’t her imagination.
“Yours, ’m yours,” she pants into the pillow and whines loudly as Beatrice sits up, but when makes a move to follow, Beatrice’s hand falls heavy between her shoulder blades forcing her down.
“Stay,” Bea insists, keeping Ava pushed against the pillow, “let me take care of you.”
Ava drops more heavily into the sheets as Beatrice pushes her thighs further apart. She drags her fingers through the copious amounts of wetness smeared along Ava’s inner thighs and outer lips, “so wet for me,” she purrs, “so ready.” She pushes in and Ava turns her head to the side, fists digging into the pillow as she arches her back, groans at the intrusion.
Ava shudders against her, “yours,” she whines, “always yours.”
Her walls constrict around Beatrice, and the older woman groans at the tight feeling, watching Ava’s back tense with every drag, moaning and biting into the pillow with every thrust of Beatrice’s fingers. On her next withdrawal the former nun curls her fingers, drags against Ava’s G spot and watches as the Halo Bearer gasps and spasms around her. She smiles, as the Halo glows beneath Ava’s skin, “you’re so beautiful like this,” she stated, thrusting and dragging against her front wall again, “so wet and open for me.”
She watches as one of Ava’s arms, which clutch the pillow beside her head, twitch, knows that Ava wants to focus on her clit, will need that attention to complete herself, “you can touch your clit darling,” she says, watching as Ava almost immediately shoves her right hand down to join Beatrice’s still thrusting fingers. The Halo Bearer gasps at the first touch, and Beatrice feels a rush of wetness flood in her palm. She pulls on Ava’s hair, bringing her up on her knees, back pressed against Beatrice’s front. The change in angle causes Ava to tilt her head back and moan, arching further into Beatrice and circling her clit harder.
“Beatrice!” she gasps, and the Halo’s energy flares bright between their bodies, arching her back and straining against Beatrice’s hold on her, “please, please, please.”
Beatrice releases Ava’s hair and draws her hand around her throat, she holding it there with enough pressure for the Halo Bearer to feel it’s presence. “I’ve got you darling,” Beatrice whispers against her throat, biting her ear, “take what you need.” She thrusts harder to meet Ava’s twitching hips, the Halo Bearer continues to gasp, calling Beatrice’s name like a prayer and twisting her head to press their lips together.
When she comes, it’s the most ethereal thing Beatrice has ever seen. Ava, with her face pressed into the pillows, her back arching and sharp cries being forced out of her throat. Beatrice watches as the Halo thrums heavily in the air, releasing golden light that fills the room, pulsing in time with every spurt of come that leaks from Ava’s opening. She wants to burn this night into her memory, wants to capture it and hang this moment suspended in her mind for the rest of her life. Its breathtaking.
She eases Ava to her side as the younger woman’s breathing slowly levels out, the Halo dimming. Withdrawing her fingers, she gently cups Ava’s centre as it weakly pulses, providing pressure and Ava lets out a relieved groan, leaning further back into Beatrice’s front, tilting her head to lazily press their lips together and Beatrice happily responds.
They lie there as Ava comes down, and Beatrice wraps her arms around her tighter, finally relishing in the feeling of being able to hold her lover.
=========
*Ava*
Ava turns in Beatrice’s arms the moment they warp around her back, she shifts slightly, easing the woman on her back and pressing their lips together.
In this tender moment, Ava takes her time to really look at Beatrice, the lover she had only seen in painful dreams for far too long. “I love you,” she breathes, smiling as Beatrice gently strokes her hand along Ava’s back, tracing the Halo scar between her shoulder blades. She mouths softly against Beatrice’s skin, running her tongue over the snake tattoo as her hand skims along the tones muscle of the older woman’s stomach. “Let me show you,” she says, “let me show you how much I missed you.”
Beatrice nods, and Ava beams up at her. The Halo Bearer remains draped cross Beatrice’s chest, hand lazily stroking up and along the woman’s ribs and gently cupping her breast. She squeezes softly, watching for Beatrice’s expression, listening to the soft exhale that escapes the former nun’s lips. Ava traces her lips to cover Bea’s nipple, sucking gently as her fingers gently roll the other in her hand. The former nun arches into the sensation, lifting Ava’s leg from where it is slung over her hips and her hand comes up to cradle the back of Ava’s head.
Ava hums happily against Beatrice’s breast, softly running her tongue over the taught flesh of her nipple, leaning her head against Bea’s chest and smiling, “you like that,” it’s more of a statement, they both know its true. Beatrice nods anyway, hand brushing Ava’s hair back from her eyes, watching as the Halo Bearer lowers her mouth to her breast again.
Ava shifts to move down Beatrice’s body, but a hand gripping her bicep stops her, she looks up and sees Bea’s pleading eyes, “stay.”
Ava nods, resting back against Beatrice’s chest, her lips gently tracing inconsequential patterns along her skin. She leans further into Beatrice’s body, twining her right leg between the older woman’s and pulling them apart, “open for me baby,” she whispers, and Beatrice shudders as she moves to obey. Ava smiles up at her, trailing her right hand down to skim along her mound, she collects the slick between her legs, and Beatrice shudders with every soft stroke.
Ava takes her time to enjoy the feeling of Beatrice squeezing around her fingers, to explore her body, coarse curls against the pads of her fingers, to savour the heat she can feel radiating from Bea’s core, but Bea is rolling her hips, eyes pleading. She grasps Ava, digging strong fingers into the Halo Bearer’s forearm, urging her on. She kisses the former nun when Beatrice lets out a startled noise, “I’ve got you,” she hushes, “I’ve got you.” She dips her hand lower runs two fingers through the wetness between Beatrice’s legs and circles her clit.
Beatrice writhes under Ava, can’t seem to get close enough, trying to push her body as close to Ava as she can, arching into Ava’s hold, arching her neck to expose more of her throat to Ava. She holds Ava’s arm in a death grip, so hard Ava’s pretty sure Halo or not there’s gonna be bruises tomorrow. She can feel Beatrice’s gasps against her chest, hotter whines puffing softly along her skin, and Ava feels the Halo on her back begin to pulse, glowing dimly in the bedroom. She ghosts the tips of her fingers just inside Bea’s core, testing the waters, and a startled cry rips through Beatrice’s throat. At the former nun’s pleading whine, Ava finally, carefully dips her fingers into Beatrice’s entrance. She arches almost violently, craning her neck into the pillow and moaning desperately, and Ava cards her free hand through Beatrice’s hair, shushing her.
“It’s okay Bea,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to the former nun’s temple, “just feel, I’ll get you there.”
Ava could die happy like this, would be completely okay spending forever in this moment, listening to Beatrice’s needy pants as she grinds down on her fingers, chasing her release as Ava’s thumb gently strokes her clit in time with the light curling of her fingers. From the way that Bea’s hips are twitching and jerking, Ava knows forever isn’t going to last much longer.
Beatrice lets out whining gasps of, “Ava, Ava, fuck- Ava!” back arching repeatedly as all the muscles in her body seem to coil and tense. The dark ink encircling her arms seems to shift with every twitch. Tears fall from her eyes, dripping down her cheeks, and she sobs, but Ava watches as a smile forms on her face and the Halo warms between her shoulders.
Ava hushes her, stilling her fingers as Beatrice comes down. With her free hand she wipes away the tears that stained the older woman’s cheeks. Beatrice pants, small spasms travelling through her body and Ava continues to softly press kisses to her chest. Beatrice’s heartrate takes its time to slow, but the pressure of Ava’s body seems to help calm her and eventually lays still, hand coming up to encircle the Halo Bearer’s shoulders.
Carefully, softly, Ava pulls her hand out from between Beatrice’s legs, and the former nun shudders, tilting her face further into the pillows as more aftershocks pulse through her body. Ava sits up, brings her come-soaked fingers up to her face, looks at the copious amounts of glossy liquid dripping down them, Ava doesn’t spare Beatrice a glance before popping them in her mouth. She moans at the explosion of Beatrice pure on her tongue, closes her eyes and sucks her fingers harder. ‘Fuck’ she thinks, ‘I should’ve done this so much sooner.’
A hand grasps her wrist, and Ava opens her eyes, Beatrice looks up at her with a strange look in her face. The Halo Bearer pulls her fingers out of her mouth with an audible pop, an apology on her lips.
“I-”
But Beatrice’s hand lets go of her wrist and is cupping the back of her neck, pulling the Halo Bearer in and kissing her with a deep groan. Her tongue demands entry, and Ava opens willingly, Beatrice’s other hand snakes around Ava’s back, hand stroking the circular scar of the Halo between Ava’s shoulder blades. The former nun gently eases back, trapping Ava’s bottom lip between her teeth and sucking gently, as soon as she releases she’s wrapping both arms around the Halo Bearer and pulling them both to lie on sweat and come soaked sheets.
The former nun shuffles them both beneath the sheets, before shifting in irritation. She sits up, pulling off the soaked top cover and dragging it to form a pile with the rest of their clothes, mumbling something about “laundry day.” Ava watches from the bed, and gets her first full view of the expanse of Beatrice’s naked back. Inked along the entirety of Beatrice’s back is a continuation of the beautiful scenes along her arms, Ava wants to spend every waking moment studying the lines and contours of Beatrice’s back, run her fingers over the scars hidden by the dark ink. ‘You’ve got time now Silva’ she says to herself, ‘and when this is all over, the rest of your lives.’ Beatrice crawls back in bed, still naked, tucking the sheets around them both and shuffling closer to the Halo Bearer.
They face eachother, Beatrice’s arm slung heavy over her ribs, covering Ava’s Halo with her hand protectively. Ava’s hand slides along the covers and gently strokes along the light scar on her eyebrow. “I love you,” Beatrice whispers, “I never stopped loving you.”
There’s no regret in her eyes, and Ava is thankful that Bea can be herself without shame, “but was it okay?” She asks, and Ava’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, ‘I- we did just have the same night. She realised she just rocked my shit right?’ “I mean I know you said ‘save the soft shit for later’ but I didn’t want to go too far and-”
“Bea,” Ava cuts off, an amused sigh escapes her lips, “It was perfect, soft shit can wait till tomorrow. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you,” she says, tucking herself further into Beatrice’s hold. “I wanna wake up and be able to stay held in your arms, and we can have that.” She shifts up, tilting Bea’s eyes to meet her own, “But tonight? All I wanted was to be owned by you, to feel that I’m back in my body, back with you again.”
“I enjoyed tonight too,” Bea whispers, kissing Ava’s knuckles and sighing deeply, nuzzling into the pillows. “I almost can’t believe you’re here.”
“I’m here,” Ava murmurs happily, “‘m not gonna leave you again.”