#6341 words

[eurydicees]

i have carved our names into the dark between stars (iwaoi, 6341 words)

Oikawa has recently gotten into astrology, and it’s ruining Iwaizumi’s life. In which Oikawa sends messages to Iwaizumi on his latest astrology app. Iwaizumi doesn’t open them, until he does.

guess who generated star charts for fictional characters for the sake of a fic. it's me. i did.

[kunikidas-lost-glasses]

Nikolai saving Fyodor - Fyolai Drabble

HEAVY SPOILERS FOR BSD SEASON 5 AND ESPECIALLY FOR BSD SEASON 5 EPISODE 11 UNDERNEATH

Nikolai didn't gave Dazai and Fyodor poison in this. There was some other stuff in the injections but no poison. He just wanted to make the game more interesting and funky/entertaining.

Important to note: This drabble is connected to my BSD Fix-It AU with the only change being the circumstances under which Nikolai saved Fyodor and the reason why Dazai told Atsushi to write down that Fyodor would lose his ability.

It's not needed to necessarily read my other post in order to understand this post.

It's only important to know that the ADA managed to obtain the page and that Dazai told Atsushi to write on it that Fyodor would lose his ability. He knew about the consequences it would have and while he hoped that Fyodor was gone for good, he wanted to make sure that if he would really somehow manage to come back, he wouldn't try to start a war again, not trusting him at all.

This AU works with the theory that Fyodor is highly influenced by his ability.

TWs (PLEASE take them seriously): Mentions and descriptions of blood (a lot of blood), descriptions of injuries, panic, crying (a lot of crying), medical procedures, descriptions of being in pain, mentions of fever, mentions of getting sick, mentions of the medical procedure of stitching up/suturing wounds, descriptions of treating wounds, descriptions of struggling with loosing the ability to use one hand, descriptions/mentions of utterly neglecting oneself, slightly implied depersonalization/derealization, slight mention of feeling numb, mentions of death, mentions of being heavily influenced by something, short slight mention of one of Nikolai's graphic crimes (they were mentioned when the ADA took his case), mention of scars

Maybe a bit ooc. (I understand the characters I swear. I just enjoy writing stuff which is a tiny bit ooc to allow more fluff to happen. However I tried to make it not extremely ooc though.)

(I did bend the rules of legitimacy/reality a bit in regard to treating the injuries in order to make this possible as well as a bit more easier to write.)

It's all hurt/comfort tho and it does have a lot of fluff towards the end. I promise.

Word count: 6341 words in total

He didn't know what came over him but before the helicopter crashed into the tower of the prison, Nikolai used his ability to drag Fyodor into one of his portals.

Dazai and Chuuya didn't notice him using his ability.

As soon as Chuuya and Dazai left, entering the prison one more time in order to get Sigma out of there, hoping that he would be still alive, Nikolai hectically opened up a portal himself and used it to rush into one of his many hideouts in which he had teleported Fyodor

Nikolai had never felt so glad about all the different little hideouts he had everywhere where Fyodor would be in case he needed him for a plan.

Searching a hotel room where he could try to save the Russian would become quite difficult and bringing him to a hospital while both of them were wanted criminals (one of them on the run and one of them officially pronounced dead to the public) wasn't something he could do.

Nikolai wasn't thinking clearly anymore when he arrived in the shabby little house which he called his hideout and which he had purchased under one of his many many fake identities.

In fact, he wasn't really thinking at all anymore. At least not what he would normally think.

He always expected that if he would ever see Fyodor dying, he would be filled with a sense of relief, a happy and freeing feeling, knowing that he finally reached his goal and became free.

However now this wasn't the case at all.

The only things he felt were panic and some kind of denial.

He couldn't believe what had just happened. In one minute he was chatting with Fyodor who was sitting well and alive in the helicopter, his mind already filled with excitement, imaging their upcoming new game which would have something just between them and the next minute Fyodor had been stabbed in the stomach with a metal bar which was pinning him in place, his white prison suit was covered in red, thoroughly soaked with his own blood while his body was shaking and his voice was filled with pain.

Never once had Nikolai seen Fyodor in this much pain, never once had he seen the emotions of his dear friend written so clearly and openly all over his face and not once had he himself felt so awful before. Not once has he felt such fear while his own life wasn't in danger at all.

He had felt utter sadness and heartbreak before, yes. But not such a nearly hysterical panic.

It was deep, painful sadness which ran through his veins, squeezing his heart together when he had noticed that the eyes of his childhood friend with whom he had lived together on the streets and with whom he fell in love became more hazy, losing all the light in it and when his tiredness and mature character which came from all the trauma he already had to go through since a young age slowly turned into a harsh cold personality.

Nikolai could do nothing when Fyodor's ability started to take over his friend more and more as they grew older, influencing his mind and with that his personality as well as his actions thoroughly, seemingly merging Fyodor Crime and Punishment until Fyodor slowly became a part of his ability himself. Cold, cruel and harsh.

He could only watch as Fyodor started to act and when Punishment would take over completely for short periods of time. He was unable to do anything, knowing that the ability itself was just as intelligent as the one who wielded it.

Still, he knew exactly when Fyodor, even though his mind was still heavily influenced, was coming through more and still he knew exactly that the goal was to get rid of all ability users and with that all abilities came from his Fyodor.

Surprisingly, he couldn't bring himself to love Fyodor any less, despite his more cold and cruel personality.

The sadness however, still ran deep.

But he had never felt any panic and fear like this. Not when his own life wasn't in danger.

He had expected that the moment he would see Fyodor dying would bring him joy but the expected joy was a feeling of panic and denial which clouded all his mind and made it hard to think straight and instead of feeling a sense of victory upon seeing Fyodor's face twisted in pain, he felt sick to the stomach when he saw him spitting out a concerning amount of blood, feeling like vomiting himself.

If he could think straight, he would have possibly wondered why his mind wasn't acting up, refusing to try to treat his friend in order to reach his goal but now, he only could think about saving his friend, hoping that it wasn't too late.

He rushed into the bedroom in which he had placed Fyodor on the little bed, nearly tripping twice on his way due to running so fastly through the hallways.

Upon finally reaching the bedroom, seeing his friend, he felt his heart sink.

By now, Fyodor had fully passed out, his body lying limp on the bed. His face was covered in cold sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead and the now visible large stab wound was bleeding like crazy.

If Nikolai wouldn't have been used to seeing very disturbing things, he would have probably vomited but even now he still felt incredibly sick, not due to the injury but from seeing his dear friend like this.

For a short moment, he stood next to the bed like frozen before quickly bending down to check if Fyodor was still breathing and if he still had a pulse.

He knew that the chances were slim and he nearly didn't dare to check but he had to.

Upon feeling a faint pulse and upon feeling Fyodor breathing even though it were small and uneven breaths which he took, he felt like a giant weight got lifted off his heart, which felt like it was close to shattering in thousands of pieces, breaking beyond repair anyways.

However, he still couldn't feel real relief until he knew that Fyodor was in a stable shape again.

He knew that he had a lot to do now, knowing that he was still alive but he had barely any time due to Fyodor bleeding out at a rapid speed from his stab wound but also from his injured hand and the wound where Sigma had shot him.

Trying to frantically stop the bleeding through applying pressure to the wound, Nikolai remembered the trick he did with Sigma when the latter was bleeding out from where he was shot.

Sigma's injury had been way smaller, he had lost much less blood and he wasn't in such a bad shape as Fyodor at all but he knew that doing this trick once again, would at least give him some more time.

Carefully, he pushed Fyodor into his portal before looping him through the two portals which he had opened up, slowly letting some blood flow back into his body.

This time, he was much more careful than he was with Sigma and it didn't bring him any kind of entertainment at all.

He also reduced the distance between the two portals to being as small as possible, not wanting to let Fyodor fall through the air longer than needed.

After being sure that Fyodor had more blood in his body again, he quickly lifted him back on the bed, using his ability once more to grab the box in which he stored all his medical supplies from the bathroom, not wanting to waste any time and not wanting to leave Fyodor's side.

As soon as he held the box in his hands, he placed it on the bed, opening it with shaky hands and grabbing one of scissors inside of it in order to cut open the prisoner suit in order to treat Fyodor.

After cutting the remaining parts of the upper half of the jumpsuit open, he grabbed a cloth from the bathroom with his ability, pressing it onto the wound, trying to stop the bleeding while trying not to worry about the fact that Fyodor didn't even flinched or made any pained noise upon Nikolai putting pressure on the large wound on his stomach.

Nikolai himself was only taking short hitched breaths anymore as he watched how the previously brightly colored cloth slowly got soaked in the blood of his dearest friend, turning more and more red with every passing second.

After some time, of trying to slow down the bleeding and after using the portal loop a couple of times more to give him more time, he finally had the bleeding a bit under control which meant that he now came to the part he feared the most.

Nikolai had treated many wounds before.

He had been the one to clean and stitch up Sigma's wound while they were in a hotel on the way to the prison.

He didn't really feel scared that day. He knew that he had already treated and stitched wounds of his own already so why shouldn't it work with Sigma's wound.

Sigma himself wasn't really scared either. He had been lying on the bed, looking like all the life had been sucked out of him, the realization that his casino was really gone and that all the people in it were dead had crashed down on him, shortly after their little conversation after he had woken up again after falling from the Sky Casino.

If anything, Nikolai had been more scared of Sigma's clearly upcoming breakdown which was brooding inside of him, even if he was still feeling numb at the moment.

Nikolai also hadn't been scared when he had treated his own wounds, stitching them up himself.

He had done it multiple times as a child living on the streets in the Ukraine until Fyodor joined him, insisting to treat Nikolai's wounds.

Hell, he had even skinned a person before and didn't feel scared. Numb yes. Like he was watching it happen in a movie theater, yes. But not scared.

However now his hands wouldn't stop shaking and his breathing became even more quicker and hitched but he knew that it was the only way to save Fyodor.

Noone else besides him would treat his wounds. They had nowhere else to go.

He hectically grabbed the little chair which was standing in the room, pulling it next to the bed, sitting down on it, removing his now bloody gloves, putting on some medical gloves which had been in the box as well, placing everything he needed to start treating the wound properly on a new cloth on the bed, taking a needle into his hand.

Taking a deep breath, he told himself quietly that he had to pull himself together now and that he had done this many times before but that his hands had to stop shaking now or else he would mess it up.

It was one of the few times Nikolai genuinely prayed.

Nikolai didn't know how long he treated Fyodor's wounds and his hand but it felt like hours.

He made use of all the medical knowledge he had from books and from Fyodor himself as well.

He had asked his friend a couple of times before about random medical stuff, simply because he wanted his friend's attention and because he had wanted to talk with him and he had never been so glad about the fact that he asked him about it and listened to him before.

After he finally dressed the wounds, putting multiple layers on them before wrapping them all up in clean white bandages as well as after wrapping the hand up, he felt all the energy which mainly came from his panic as well as from his sheer willpower and his wish to save his friends life fade out of his body, his body practically slumping together on the chair as he still somewhat propped himself up, elbows on the bed and his head leaning against his hands.

The silence around him felt both defening and calming as he only now realized how quiet it was.

Only his own and Fyodor's hitched breathing were the only noises in the room.

While taking a couple deep breaths, he realized that he really did it, that Fyodor's life was (for now) pretty much saved but also realized what he just did, that he saved him instead of killing him, realizing that Sigma was right when he once told him that Nikolai was unable to kill Fyodor, that he needed him and was still attached to him too much to kill him off and that he still loved him more than anything but also, upon him finally coming out of his panicked state, tears started to form in Nikolai's eyes and he was by no means able to stop them from falling down his cheeks.

He was too tired and felt too much to even think about stopping them and like that, Nikolai sat next to the bed on which Fyodor who now looked like was sleeping if one ignored the sweat on his face, the hitched breathing and the thick bandages, was lying, crying more than he ever cried before.

He cried for more than an hour, his mind a mess and everything from the past weeks crashing down on him.

Eventually he didn't even knew if he cried because of the relief after saving Fyodor or because he was so mad at himself or maybe because he realized how deeply wrong he was or maybe because he felt so torn apart but he still wouldn't stop crying. The tears continued falling down his face and he felt like he would never stop crying.

Eventually he did though.

After the crying finally quieted down, he felt more worn-out and even more like all his energy and life got sucked out of him.

Everything hurted, he had a pounding headache and light hurted in his now swollen red eyes while his face felt like it was about to explode in general.

Slowly sitting up again, slumping against the backlean of the creaking chair, he let his gaze wander over Fyodor and the bed.

There was blood everywhere on the bed and on his medical supplies, the room was a mess, used cloths, cotton balls and tissues were lying around everywhere, his own purple now reddish stained gloves were lying next to the bed and Fyodor somehow still looked breathtakingly beautiful.

Nikolai just hoped that Fyodor would handle it well, especially because of his anemia or else he would have to steal some blood transfusions from the nearest hospital.

It would be no problem. He knew how to do it, he knew Fyodor's blood type for whatever reason he couldn't recall anymore by now and after what he had just done, a blood transfusion was nothing compared to it but he knew all the risks which came with one and it was really something which he had never done before unlike treating a wound (even though he has never treated such a large and drastical wound before and even though he had usually never saved lives before) so it was really something he only wanted to do if there was no other way anymore.

Besides this he wanted to draw as less police attention to his surroundings as possible so he wanted to refrain from committing any crime but if he had to do it for Fyodor he would do it without having to think about it twice.

He looked with tired and nearly empty eyes at the scene before him for quite some time before he scratched together all the willpower and energy he had left in his body to drag himself out of his chair in order to clean up a bit.

He cleaned the room and the bed a bit up, carefully cleansed all his medical supplies if he would need them again in case of an emergency and washed his hands which were stained with blood from when he tried to stop the bleeding earlier.

Afterwards, he fully got Fyodor out of his prison clothes and dressed him into some lose pyjama pants of his own.

They were way too big and way too long for him but he didn't wanted to let him lie there in either a torn apart bloody prison jumpsuit or just in his underwear.

He also put him some of his warmest socks on, not wanting to let the other freeze before placing multiple blankets on top of him.

He didn't wanted to put on a shirt on him since he needed to frequently change his bandages and also in case he quickly had to do something on the wound again but he also didn't wanted to let Fyodor freeze or get sick on top of all so he gathered all the blankets he had lying around or which he had stored in his portals, placing them on top of Fyodor.

He also put his hand on a spare pillow so that it would lay a bit higher, knowing that it would help for a better blood flow but also reducing the risk of Fyodor accidentally touching it in case he would start to move. And Nikolai wanted so badly that he would start moving soon.

Seeing Fyodor's body lie there so limp, made his heart sink each and every time he looked at him again.

His hand was beyond fixing. Nikolai did his best but it was so injured that he probably only could move it and the fingers a little bit.

It still worked but he most likely could never use it as much as before.

After everything was done, Nikolai sat on his chair next to Fyodor for the next days, holding his injured hand gently, looking at him, monitoring his breathing, checking his overall shape and looking out for him him general without a break.

Only when he felt close to passing out he would force himself to get up to drink something and to nibble on a slice of bread or whatever random "snack" he would find but he couldn't really eat anything. He didn't want to eat anything.

The only thing he wanted was Fyodor to wake up. To look at him again with those hypnotizing purple eyes of his in which he could get lost ever since they met and to speak to him again.

He would even be fine with Fyodor telling him that he would kill him. He just wanted him to wake up and to hear his soothing deep voice with the heavy Russian accent which he loved so much.

Just like when he cleaned the room and dressed Fyodor, watching over him he felt like in some kind of trance. Everything just passed by. He was caught up in his thoughts, thinking about Fyodor, about Punishment, about what happened, about his childhood, about their shared childhood, about his ideology, about freedom and his love.

He never noticed when he fell asleep. Sleeping and being awake kind of blurred together.

Often he would dream about Fyodor and about them as children on the streets. How he once took care of Fyodor in another cold and cruel winter when he got sick, shoplifting medicine and holding the shivering Fyodor in his arms as he sat on the ground the empty side alley in which they always slept, his panic rising the higher Fyodor's fever got and about how he wrapped his own coat about Fyodor in a desperate attempt to keep him warm and shield him from the cold which surrounded them even if that meant that he would freeze himself. As long as he could help Fyodor he was happy.

He dreamt about how he prayed while Fyodor's fever was the highest it had ever been and he dreamt about how he cried in happiness when Fyodor started to eat, talk and walk around again, finally feeling better.

He dreamt about them dancing around. He dreamt about the prison about the helicopter he dreamed over and over about Fyodor's pained expression but he also dreamed about how they would sometimes lie together in the bed of Fyodor's apartment at night, holding each other after Nikolai came over to Fyodor's place once again after having a nightmare, Nikolai listening to Fyodor's steady heartbeat, neither of them saying a word, only hugging each other, knowing that there will never happen more between them than this. A faint reminder of how close they once were as teens trying to survive.

He dreamt of purple eyes, cold but gentle and soft bony hands, black hair and the sound of a feather quill scratching over paper as well as flickering screens with the purple symbol of the rats.

He dreamt about birds and freedom.

The days would pass like this, Nikolai never leaving Fyodor's side for longer than a couple of minutes until one day after nearly a whole week, Fyodor's body tensed up, his face twisting in pain for a second, his breathing becoming quicker before he managed to open his eyes a bit, blinking a couple of times before his eyes fully focused on his surroundings.

Nikolai stared at him with wide eyes, not really daring to believe that what he was seeing was real and not a dream.

Upon gaining more and more consciousness, Fyodor sucked in a sharp breath due to all the pain he felt but his mind was still too clouded to really register where the pain was coming from.

He didn't recognize his surroundings so he moved his head a bit to look around but seeing who was sitting next to him wasn't something he would have expected at all.

Upon seeing Nikolai sitting next to him, staring at him with wide eyes, a mixture of happiness, relief and disbelief written all over his face, Fyodor's own eyes widenth.

He was the first one to break the silence between them, Nikolai seemingly not daring to do anything, still not really believing what was happening.

It took him a lot of energy but he managed to say Nikolai's name, his voice being awfully hoarse and sounding fragile and weak.

As soon as Nikolai heard Fyodor call out his name, he left his frozen state and tears welled up in his eyes.

Fyodor looked at him in shock upon seeing the other tear up, still not really being able to fully wrap his head around what happened and that he was alive but despite his mind being all messy, he tried to squeeze the other's hand out of reflex, only to realize that he couldn't really move his hand before a piecing pain shot through his body making him flinch hard, causing another wave of pain to roll through his whole body this time and not only through his arm.

After the pain got a bit less again, he finally realized that his stomach and his shoulder were covered in thick heavy bandages which were neatly wrapped around him as well that wasn't wearing any prison clothes anymore.

The memories of what happened before he passed out came back as well and while he had been so sure that that was it, he was now lying here and since he could tell that this wasn't any official hospital or an infirmary at the prison he knew exactly who brought him here and who saved him.

Upon realizing all of this, he looked at all the blankets covering him before looking back at Nikolai with such a soft yet pained gaze.

It was then when he saw how awful Nikolai looked. He had lost a lot of weight, there were deep dark shadows under his eyes, he still wore his clown costume, just the hat, the card covering his eye and his gloves were missing but it looked messy and there were blood stains all over it. However since Nikolai didn't seemed to be injuried at all, Fyodor could tell that it was all his own blood which was still all over Nikolai's clothes, showing him that he hadn't even changed after cleaning up, hurrying next to his side again to stay with him.

His white hair was a mess as well and looked like it hasn't been combed since days. Even his braid which was usually done all neatly and accurate was a mess, strands of hair being out of the braid here and there and the bow at the end of the braid seemingly trying it's best to hold the last remains of the once braided hair together.

Nikolai was pale and looked more worn-out and tired than Fyodor had ever seen him and to his surprise, he felt his heart sink upon seeing his friend like this.

He wanted to say something, asking Nikolai what he had done but before he could say anything, Nikolai cried out that he hated him, tears starting to fall down.

Fyodor was caught off guard at first before a soft smile spread across his lips and he managed to say "Thank you Koyla" before he tensed up again, another wave of pain making his body feel like it was getting stabbed in the stomach all over again.

Nikolai stared at him in disbelief before gently lifting Fyodor's bandaged hand to his own face, cradling it and holding it softly against his cheek, looking at Fyodor with a wobbly smile before breaking down crying once again, not letting go of Fyodor's hand.

Fyodor just looked at Nikolai and for once he did let himself feel how painfully in love he himself was with Nikolai.

Normally he tried to suppress it, denying himself any kind of love he felt towards the other but now he couldn't bring himself to even just try to do so.

He was glad that he woke up to Nikolai sitting next to.

He couldn't say anything to Nikolai as the latter cried, since the few things he said already took out all his energy so he just lied there, looking at the other with a small smile.

Eventually Nikolai pulled himself together again, carefully laying down Fyodor's hand on the pillow again, however not letting go of it before asking him a couple of things about how he was feeling which Fyodor answered with either nodding his head or shaking his head.

In the following days, Nikolai would continue to take care of Fyodor, gently propping him up against the headboard of the bed, feeding him soup and other more nurturing dishes he would cook for him as well as making him drink a lot of water and tea.

He also made him regularly take iron supplements and fed him sweets every now and then to help his body to recover from the blood loss.

They didn't talk much. Fyodor couldn't talk much anyways but it was off-putting to see Nikolai so quiet and drowned in thoughts.

Fyodor knew that he had to leave him alone with his thoughts now and that he himself had to sort this battle between his humanity and his ideology out for himself.

Nikolai would change his bandages and the covers of the blankets regularly and kept a close eye on the wounds.

The wound were Sigma shot Fyodor in his shoulder healed good and quickly but the wounds on his hand and especially the large stab wound were healing slowly but luckily, neither of them showed any signs of an infection.

Fyodor did his best to appear put together when Nikolai was changing the bandages but sometimes he couldn't prevent himself for making pained noises, flinching hard or tensing up, hashly sucking in the air.

Nikolai never made any comments on it but he often looked at him with a worried and apologetic expression.

He hated feeling so weak and vulnerable and he was horrified of Punishment lashing out an Nikolai whenever he was in a lot of pain since it tended to lash out when Fyodor felt threatened or in pain so he was often lying there utterly exhausted after Nikolai exchanged the bandages, partly from the pain but mostly from trying to keep Punishment at bay in his weakened state.

He felt Punishment rage inside of him every single day and he found himself having the urge to get revenge on Dazai and Chuuya and the whole ADA.

However one day, just when his body was in a good enough shape for him to slowly start to get up again he felt the harsh feeling of Punishment inside of him as well as the influence it had on him disappear completely in just one moment.

It didn't fade away slowly, it was like someone had just flicked off a light switch and turned it off.

Suddenly he regained his whole consciousness again, his mind which always was a bit messy and foggy due to Punishment's influence suddenly feeling completely normal again.

He didn't really know what happened but the disappearing of his ability made unable to leave his bed even more again.

All the memories of what happened crashed down on him besides of parts where his ability had taken over completely, and the guilt was eating him up alive.

In addition to that, he had to fully readjust to having his full consciousness back.

Mostly however, he had to wrap his head around the fact that he was only Fyodor now. Not Crime, not Punishment, only Fyodor.

He felt the rage and the twisted thoughts disappear and it made him both utterly relieved and scared.

It was like a part of him got taken away but he didn't felt less whole now. If anything, he felt like himself again despite the guilt eating him up alive and it confused him more than anything.

Nikolai was there for him the whole time. He wouldn't leave his side before and he wouldn't leave his side now.

When he had entered to room, seeing that Fyodor stared at him in disbelief and fear, his eyes not being hazy anymore and lacking all the coldness but now being filled with light again, Nikolai would have nearly dropped everything he had been holding at that moment out of disbelief and shock himself.

He immediately recognized those eyes and at first, he didn't dare to believe that for whatever reason, Punishment was gone for good now.

Nikolai himself, was having a battle with his mind over all this time and slowly he let himself believe that he could be together with Fyodor while being free at the same time.

Nikolai knew by now that Fyodor returned his feelings and he knew that he would wait for him until he was ready and Fyodor did wait.

He waited until they were both ready to finally put into words what they were feeling all those times before, taking the step to finally get together.

Fyodor recovered slowly but aside from the time after losing his ability where he got worse, he was recovering steadily.

Nikolai, who had put his clown attire away by now and who slowly started to eat more again as well as started to somewhat take a bit care of himself again due to Fyodor refusing to eat until Nikolai ate something himself, helped him the whole time.

He continued to feed him, he changed the bandages, made sure that bed and room were clean, after Fyodor was able to sit up again for a few minutes without being in too much pain he would gently wash him every day, he brushed his hair making sure that it wouldn't become matted, he changed his clothes regularly and when the time came he helped him to slowly sit up without leaning against the headboard for support again, he helped him to move around in his bed to scoot over to the edge of the bed, sitting on it and placing his feet on the floor again for the first time since weeks if not months and eventually he helped him to stand up again, taking his first few wobbly steps again.

The first time standing up again was nerve wracking for both of them.

It had been painful to sit up on his own with only a bit support but it was much more manageable than when he first tried to sit up.

He couldn't stand lying in bed any longer.

Nikolai had been looking at him, his eyes filled with worry while he was firmly holding Fyodor's healthy hand with one, and his forearm of the other arm with his other hand.

After getting used to the feeling of sitting up and after the first row of pain got lesser again, Fyodor looked at Nikolai and nodded, him being as tensed up as the other himself, before using all his energy to drag himself out of his bed and up on his feet with Nikolai's help.

His weakened legs were shaky and wobbly and he immediately felt like passing out, his anemia making him see black and flimmering colors for a second but before he could fall, he felt Nikolai wrapping one of his arms around him, careful not to touch the wound on his stomach, steadily holding him and preventing him from falling, letting him slump against him until he was able to see something again a few seconds later.

His legs were shaking, his breathing became faster and he was clinging with his healthy hand to Nikolai as if his life would depend on him but he felt more genuinely happy than he felt since a long time, finally being able to stand again.

However, he quickly had to lie back down again upon the pain and the exhaustion becoming too much, making him feel dizzy and like his legs would give out on him any moment.

Nikolai himself had a big smile and teary eyes as he told Fyodor that he did great, feeling relieved due to seeing how well Fyodor was recovering and that he would be able to walk at least short lengths again being written all over his face.

He also helped him to slowly move his hand more again but just as he had suspected, Fyodor couldn't really move or do anything with his hand anymore.

Teaching himself how to write and how to handle a weapon with his non dominant hand wasn't that difficult for Fyodor but he did struggle with doing daily activities with mostly only one hand and he grieved after not being able to play the cello anymore.

Nikolai tried his best to cheer him up whenever he saw that Fyodor was getting frustrated again because of his hand or when he sensed that he became upset when listening to music including a cello again.

After getting up again for the first time, they would continue to train getting up and walking around again.

The first few times, Fyodor had to hold onto Nikolai and often wasn't able to take more than two or on good days three steps before his legs felt like they would give out again and before the pain coming from the large stab wound became too much again.

However after quite some time had passed, he was able to walk around more freely and without having to hold onto Nikolai as much again.

He was still shaky on his legs, walking quickly became exhausting and painful after a while but he got better and better.

It still took a very long time until he was able to fully get out of bed over nearly a whole day, to walk around and do things completely on his own but Nikolai was there for him the whole time and he continued to be there for him even when Fyodor had fully recovered just like Fyodor was always there for Nikolai when the other needed him.

When the large wound was finally so well healed that Nikolai could finally pull the stitches out, he did try his best not to tear up again, the process reminding him of how he was desperately trying to save his dearest's life but also showing him once again that he did manage to save him, reminding him of how far they came.

After they finally got together after Nikolai was ready and after they both were both in a much better state, both physically and mentally, Nikolai would often kiss Fyodor's injuried hand, holding it as gentle as possible if Fyodor either was upset because of it again or if the chronic pain which developed from the injury became worse again.

Fyodor would always have two large and messy looking scars and a fully scarred hand now but Nikolai didn't mind. He would always tell Fyodor that he looked beautiful, despite all the scars which the other hated so much and he would frequently kiss them whenever he got the opportunity to do so.

After Fyodor had fully recovered and was able to live more independently again, they moved out of the little shabby hideout to live a quiet life underground in a small but cozy house under fake identities and in a different country, far away from where everything went down.

Due to Punishment being gone, Fyodor had no desire to start another war or to get revenge on the ADA anymore.

He just wanted to get as far away from anything which reminded him of this time as it was possible.

He craved to start a new life together with Nikolai, far away from all the things which reminded him if the past.

They might still had a long road of recovery and redemption in front of them but they both felt happier than they've ever been and their relationship was a true and honest one, based on a deep and mutual understanding for each other and based on utter and deep running love which would never end.

If you read all of this, thank you so much! I love u <3

I hope you liked it!

[ao3feed-kathony]

From Ancient Grudge

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/59205571 by landscapets Anthony is a Bridgerton, and Kate a Sharma. Their families are enmeshed in a feud, which began the moment when their ancestors quarreled so fiercely over their shared lands that ended up killing one another. But the moment Kate and Anthony meet – after long trading letters unaware of their true identity – the two end up falling in love. Will this end as a beautiful and magic love affair – or a sad and tragic one? (Based on Romeo and Juliet's love story) Words: 6341, Chapters: 1/18, Language: English Fandoms: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Anthony Bridgerton, Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Edwina Sheffield | Edwina Sharma, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Miles Sharma, Edmund Bridgerton, Mary Sheffield | Mary Sharma, Lady Danbury, Miss Willow, Mister Dorset Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma Additional Tags: Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Letters, Denial of Feelings, References to Shakespeare, References to Jane Austen, alternative universe, Help From Siblings, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Yearning, Fighting, Forbidden Love, Fools in Love, Enemies to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Emotional Affair, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Flirting, Arguing, Jealousy, Romeo and Juliet References, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Family Rivalry, Accident, Secret Relationship, Secret Wedding read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/59205571

[bittybug-sunflower-blog]

Chapter summary: the Marauders learn a bit more about Beka

Warning ⚠️: Mature themes and language, sex, drugs, abuse, blood, death, drinking, suicide attempt, and smoking

Word count: 6341

Rating 21+

Extra: alternate universe story

Chapter 13

Several weeks have passed by now, Beka sat in the library, her usual spot by the window providing a view of the lush garden outside. She had been immersed in writing her song, trying to find solace in her music, when the sound of the television caught her attention.

The TV was tuned to a news channel, and Beka glanced up just in time to see a familiar face on the screen. Her former partner, Seneca, was speaking earnestly into the camera.

"This is Detective Seneca Mori, reaching out to everyone who might know something about the disappearance of Rebekath Hardt. She was not just a friend but a mentor to many of us. She dedicated her life to helping others, and now, it's our turn to help her. We urge anyone with information to come forward. Please, don't give up on finding her."

Beka's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened as she saw Seneca. She quietly mouthed Seneca's name, her eyes fixed on the TV. The words of her former partner were a mix of comfort and pain, a reminder of the life she once led and the people she had left behind. The sense of being missed and the acknowledgment of her past efforts brought a wave of emotions over her.

Wrecker, who had been quietly observing from the doorway, noticed Beka's reaction. He stepped into the room, his expression softening as he saw how moved she was. "Everything okay?" he asked gently.

Beka nodded, though her eyes were still fixed on the screen. "It's just... yeah, I'm okay."

Wrecker came over and sat beside her. "She sounds like she really cares about you. It must be tough seeing this."

Beka took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Yeah, it is. It's like a part of my old life is reaching out, reminding me of what I left behind."

The news segment ended, but the impact of Seneca's message lingered with Beka. She sat there for a moment longer, reflecting on the good and bad times with her former partner and the weight of her current reality.

Wrecker found Hunter in his office, his expression serious. Hunter looked up from his desk, sensing the urgency in Wrecker's demeanor.

"What's up?" Hunter asked, setting aside the papers he'd been reviewing.

Wrecker glanced around, ensuring they were alone. "I was in the library with Beka. She saw a news segment about that Detective Mori. She might get too close to finding Beka."

Hunter's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Seneca? She's still looking for Beka?"

"Yeah. She was on TV talking about how she won't give up on finding her. It's been several months though, you think they called off the search."

Hunter sighed deeply. "We need to double-check that we covered our tracks well enough. We need to ensure she doesn't get any closer to Beka. I would hate to hurt someone Beka cares about."

Wrecker nodded. "That's what I was thinking. I need Echo and Tech to keep an eye on her. They should trail Seneca in secret to gather any information she's looking into and make sure no leads get through."

Hunter's eyes narrowed, a hint of grim determination in his gaze. "Alright. I'll give them the order. But be careful with this. We don't want to create more problems than we can solve."

Wrecker nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Got it. I'll make sure they know the stakes."

Later, Echo and Tech gathered in the tech lab, their attention focused on Hunter's latest instructions. Echo looked serious, his expression one of resolve. Tech, as always, was methodical, preparing for their covert operation.

Hunter entered the room and addressed them directly. "Echo, Tech. I need you boys to follow Detective Seneca Mori." Hunter tossed a picture of the detective on his desk. "Keep track of her activities, and make sure she doesn't uncover any information about Beka. Destroy any leads she might have. This is crucial to everyone."

Tech nodded, already pulling up various surveillance tools. "Understood. We'll be discreet. We won't leave any trace."

Echo added, "Consider it done."

Hunter gave a curt nod. "Good. I trust you both to handle this carefully. The last thing we need is for Beka's past to jeopardize her present safety."

As Echo and Tech prepared for their mission, the gravity of the task ahead weighed heavily on them. They exchanged a solemn glance, fully aware of the importance of their assignment and the need for absolute discretion.

"Remember, Echo," Tech said quietly as they made their way through the shadows, "we can't afford to slip up. If anyone finds out about Beka, it could bring everything crashing down."

Echo nodded, adjusting his goggles as he scanned the path ahead. "We'll be in and out before anyone even knows we were there."

They moved swiftly under the cover of darkness, their presence nearly invisible as they approached the police station. The building loomed ahead, its lights dim in the late hours.

Their first stop was inside where they looked for what could be a power control panel, which they found in the supply closet. "Give me a minute," Tech whispered, his voice barely audible in the still night. "I'll disable the silent alarms. We need to make sure there's no trace of us."

Echo stood watch at the door, his keen eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. "Make it quick. We don't have much time."

Tech's expert knowledge of security systems made short work of the station's defenses. With a simple cut of a wire, the alarms were disarmed. "Done. Let's move." Inside the dimly lit station, the air was thick with tension. Tech led the way to the evidence room, his steps silent and purposeful. As they reached the door, Tech got to work on the lock, his hands moving with practiced precision. "Watch my back," Tech muttered as he focused on the task at hand.

Echo positioned himself by the door, his senses on high alert. "Got it. Just get us in."

The door clicked open, and they slipped inside. The room was filled with shelves of files, evidence bags, and computer terminals. Tech immediately set to work, accessing the system with ease. "I'll handle these first set of files first. You start with any physical evidence."

Echo nodded and moved to the shelves, his hands quickly sifting through the evidence related to Beka. "We need to make sure nothing is left behind. Every scrap of information has to disappear."

Tech's fingers flew over files tearing them into shreds. "I'm on it. This won't take long." He cracked a window and then took a metal trashcan to set any other papers on fire careful not to raise alarms.

As Tech worked, Echo began systematically destroying the physical evidence. Documents were shredded with brutal efficiency, while sensitive items were incinerated in a small portable burner Tech had created.

"Anything left over?" Echo asked, his voice low as he surveyed the room.

"Just a few more files," Tech replied, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "Almost done."

As Tech continued working on the last of the files, Echo moved deeper into the evidence room, his sharp eyes scanning the walls. He paused, something catching his attention in the dim light—a section of the wall adorned with framed newspaper clippings and a portrait.

"Tech," Echo called quietly, motioning for him to come over.

Tech finished typing on the old terminal and walked over, adjusting his glasses as he looked at what Echo had found. The wall was a small shrine to Beka's past achievements. The newspaper clippings, neatly framed and hung with care, detailed her successes as a detective. Headlines praised her tenacity, her sharp mind, and her unyielding pursuit of justice.

"Look at this," Echo murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of admiration and sadness. "They've got a whole wall dedicated to her work."

The centerpiece of the display was a large, framed portrait of Beka, dressed in her detective uniform, her expression one of quiet confidence and determination. The photograph captured her essence perfectly—an image of strength, integrity, and dedication.

Tech stared at the wall, momentarily forgetting the urgency of their mission. "They really respected her," he said softly. "These are tributes."

Echo nodded, his eyes lingering on the headlines. "Look at these headlines, busted longstanding prostitution ring. Serial killers caught one another after another. Saved several who were kidnapped children monsters."

More clippings highlighted her role in solving high-profile cases, taking down dangerous criminals, and bringing justice to those who had lost hope. Each one was a testament to the difference she had made in her community, the lives she had touched, and the criminals she had brought to justice.

Tech's expression hardened as he looked back at the files they were destroying. "We can't let anyone use her past against her. But this... this wall should be preserved."

Echo nodded in agreement. "We'll take some of these with us, maybe give Crosshair a reason to start trusting her."

Tech carefully removed the framed portrait and clippings from the wall, one by one. He handed them to Echo, who wrapped them in cloth to protect them. They worked in silence.

As they finished, Echo glanced back at the now-bare wall. "Let's make sure she gets these back one day."

Tech nodded. "Agreed."

With that, they continued their mission, the weight of their task heavier than before. The operation was methodical, there was no room for error. Every piece of evidence was either destroyed or rendered useless, ensuring that Beka's name would never be linked to anything in the station.

"We clear?" Echo asked getting a bit impatient.

Finally, Tech burned all the files he put out the small fire with some water. "We're clear. Let's get out of here."

Echo gave a curt nod, and they moved swiftly to the exit. As they slipped out of the station, Tech glanced back to ensure they left no trace of their presence. Satisfied, he turned to Echo.

"Mission accomplished," Tech said quietly, a hint of relief in his voice. "No one will ever know we were here."

Echo clapped Tech on the shoulder as they made their way to the car. "Good work. Let's start trailing this Mori girl. The sooner we're out of here, the better

Echo and Tech began their surveillance of Seneca Mori. They followed her discreetly, making use of Tech's advanced tracking equipment and Echo's sharp observational skills. They shadowed Seneca as she went about her day, carefully noting her interactions and the people she met. Their surveillance eventually led them to a quiet suburban neighborhood, where they observed Seneca pulling up to a charming, two-story home with a neatly manicured lawn and a small garden by the front porch. The house was painted a soft, pale blue, with white trim that gave it a welcoming, almost idyllic appearance.

As Seneca stepped out of her car, her features became clearer. Her honey-auburn hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail. Waiting for her on the porch was her wife, Biala Mori. Biala was tall and graceful, with rich, brown skin that seemed to glow in the evening light. Her hair was styled in soft curls of bleached blond that framed her face, accentuating her warm, inviting smile.

She was dressed in a simple yet elegant green dress, its fabric flowing lightly in the evening breeze. Seneca reached the steps, and Biala leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that lingered just long enough to convey the depth of their connection. Their hands found each other's naturally, fingers intertwining as if they'd never been apart.

"I missed you," Biala whispered, her voice soft and warm her emerald eyes gazing into Seneca's hazel brown ones.

Seneca smiled, her thumb gently brushing over Biala's lips. "I missed you too," she replied, her tone laced with the comfort of coming home.

"Mom! Mom!" a young voice called out, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement. "Did you bring me anything?"

Another young boy, just a year younger and looking exactly like Biala with his rich brown skin and gentle green eyes, followed more slowly, but with no less enthusiasm. "We've been waiting for you, Mom," the other boy added, his tone quieter but filled with the same joy.

Their two sons, Lon and Isaac, appeared at the doorway, each one reflecting a blend of their mothers' features. Isaac, the elder of the two, had his mother Seneca's sharp features and intense brown eyes, while Lon, younger and a bit shorter, shared Biala's darker complexion and warm, gentle smile. As the boys ran up to greet their mother, Seneca's stern demeanor melted into one of warmth and affection.

Seneca chuckled, letting go of Biala's waist just long enough to ruffle the older one's hair and scoop youngest into a hug. "Of course, I brought something," she said, smiling down at them both. "But first, let me just enjoy seeing my boys."

Biala watched the exchange with a soft smile, her heart swelling at the sight of their family together. "Alright, you two," she said, guiding them back toward the house. "Let's go inside and let your mom settle in. We can catch up over dinner."

Seneca looked back at Biala as they headed inside, their eyes meeting once more. The silent exchange between them was filled with love and gratitude—a mutual understanding of the life they'd built together, the family they cherished. She exchanged a few more words with Biala, their conversation low and intimate, the kind that only long-married couples share before she followed her family inside. The door closed behind them, the scene one of domestic tranquility—a stark contrast to the tension and danger that often surrounded Seneca in her other life. The home, filled with love and laughter, was a sanctuary, a place where she could shed her armor and simply be a wife and mother.

Echo and Tech kept their distance, tucked away in the shadows of their car, the dim light of a streetlamp barely reaching their figures.

"Looks like the usual routine," Echo whispered, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of June bugs buzzing, dogs barking, and the typical wildlife getting into the metal trashcans. He peered through his camera, capturing the scene of Seneca's family as they moved through their evening. "Kids are home from school, dinner's on the table. Picture-perfect, ain't it?"

Tech adjusted his glasses, pushing them up on his eyes as he scanned the notes in his worn leather notebook. "Picture-perfect until you realize what's lurking beneath the surface," he muttered. "Seneca's got more secrets than this city's got dark corners. We need to keep our distance, but close enough to catch whatever slips through the cracks."

"Speaking of which," Echo murmured, lowering his camera, "you think she's onto us? Or Beka?"

Tech's eyes narrowed behind his glasses, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "If she was, we'd know. She'd be a fool to tip her hand now. No, Seneca's careful—too careful. But that's where she'll slip up. Sooner or later, the mask always falls."

They continued their silent surveillance until the lights in Seneca's house dimmed. Once their observations were complete, Echo and Tech made their way back to their home. Inside, Tech and Echo began compiling their findings, the sound of typewriter keys echoing through the room.

Echo nodded, as he leaned back in his chair. "We keep this quiet. No one else needs to know—especially not Beka. If this blows up, it could take her down too."

Tech looked up from his notes, his expression grim. "Then we make sure it doesn't. We stay in the shadows, keep our ears to the ground, and make damn sure we're ready when the time comes."

Echo sighed, "Here's hoping that time never comes. This is Beka's friend, partner we're talking about."

Seneca returned to the police station early the next morning, her mind preoccupied with Beka and the ongoing investigation. She had hoped to make progress on the case, but what she found was far from what she had anticipated. As she entered the station, Seneca immediately saw the damage to her case. The usually neat and orderly filing room was in disarray. Papers were strewn about, and the file cabinets were wide open, their contents scattered across the floor. Her heart sank as she hurried over to her desk, only to find that all the documents related to Beka's case had been destroyed or removed.

"Damn it!" Seneca yelled slamming her hand on her desk. All the work she's been gathering for months is gone, all in one night. Seneca's breath quickened as she frantically searched through the wreckage. All the news clippings and a portrait were gone as well. The realization hit her hard: someone had deliberately sabotaged her investigation. This wasn't just a random act of vandalism—it was a calculated move to hinder her progress.

"Detective Mori, what happened?" a colleague of hers asked stepping into the destroyed office.

"I don't know, why were the silent alarms not going off?" Seneca asked looking at the young rookie cop.

"The wires were severed." He said with little confidence.

"Fuck, rookie take Officer Fisto and do a whole sweep of the office."

"My name is Kanan, Kanan Jarrus." The rookie said a bit annoyed.

"Rookie, today is not the day to correct me, go gather evidence. Now!" Seneca orders.

"Yes sir." Kanan took off running to do as he was told.

Seneca sighed and leaned against her desk, thoughts raced. "Who would have done this? And why?" The answer came with an unsettling clarity: Beka was in danger, and someone wanted to keep her hidden at all costs. Seneca's determination hardened into resolve.

She paused for a moment, staring at the ruined evidence, her face a mixture of anger and frustration. The sense of urgency grew as she realized the depth of the conspiracy she was up against. This was no ordinary case—it was deeply personal, and she was determined to see it through to the end. With another sigh, Seneca gathered what little remained of the evidence, knowing that she would have to start from scratch. As she left the station, her mind was already working on the next steps in her investigation. She would not be deterred by this setback. Beka needed her now more than ever, and Seneca was ready to fight for her.

The living room was silent as the news broadcast started on the large screen. Seneca's face appeared, her expression resolute. The room, filled with Hunter, Crosshair, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker, listened intently.

"Good morning," Seneca began, her voice steady, a stern serious voice spoke up. "I'm Detective Seneca Mori. It's come to my attention that the recent events, including the fire at Miss Ribbon Singer's show, are linked to a larger conspiracy. Despite the threats, I refuse to be intimidated. I will continue to seek the truth and fight for justice. I will not give up."

Crosshair's eyes narrowed as he listened. Leaning toward Hunter, he muttered, "We might have to take care of her if she keeps this up."

Beka, who had been in the kitchen, overheard. Her heart pounded as she rushed into the room, eyes wide with panic. "No! You can't do anything to her."

Hunter glanced at Beka, his expression unreadable. Crosshair remained unmoved, his eyes cold and unfeeling as he swirled a toothpick in his mouth.

"Darling," Hunter said, his voice firm but soft. "She can't keep investing or it will be bad for everyone involved, but we'll think this through."

Beka's face flushed with frustration. "Think this through? This is not something you can just fucking think through. She's not just some threat you can eliminate. She's my friend, and probably the only person I can trust."

Without waiting for a response, Beka stormed out of the room, her steps echoing with anger. Wrecker, quickly followed, his large frame filling the doorway as he went after her. Hunter watched Beka leave, conflicted. Crosshair shrugged, unbothered, and returned to his seat. Echo and Tech exchanged worried glances, the tension in the room palpable.

Wrecker caught up with Beka in the hallway, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. We'll figure this out."

Beka shook her head, tears of frustration spilling down her cheeks. "I just— I can't believe they'd even think of doing something to her. I just want to protect what little I have left."

Wrecker placed a comforting hug hand on her shoulder, letting her lean into him. "We'll make sure nothing happens to her. We'll figure something out."

Meanwhile, in the living room, Hunter remained seated. He knew Beka's feelings for Seneca ran deep, and though he was determined to keep everyone safe, he also felt the weight of her plea. He stared at the glass that contained the strong amber liquid of whiskey, contemplating the next moves of the Marauder Family.

Hunter cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Alright, we need to talk about our next steps. Beka's made it clear how much Seneca means to her, and it's affecting her more than we thought. We need to figure out how to handle this without escalating things."

Crosshair leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "If Seneca continues to dig into things, she's going to be a problem. We need to think about how to 'take care' of that threat."

Echo frowned, shaking his head. "But we're talking about someone Beka considers family. We can't just ignore that. She's already under a lot of stress."

Tech adjusted his glasses, looking at the screen where Seneca's image was still displayed. "Getting rid of the threat might lead to more complications. We need to approach this delicately."

Wrecker, who had returned after comforting Beka, spoke up. "I agree with Echo and Tech. We need to find a way to get Seneca to stop investigating without making things worse."

Hunter nodded, weighing their words. "I think we should focus on gathering more information. If we understand what we're really up against, we can better decide how to proceed. And we need to keep Beka in the loop. Keeping her out of it could backfire."

Crosshair scowled. "Information's fine, but we need a plan in case things go sideways. If Seneca gets too close to uncovering something she shouldn't, we might not have a choice."

Hunter held up a hand. "We'll avoid taking drastic measures for now. Our priority is to make sure Beka is safe. We'll keep a close watch and adapt as needed."

Echo nodded in agreement. "We can't have Seneca knowing we're involved though. Police and crime bosses don't exactly fucking mix."

Tech tapped his pen on his notebook, "We need to have a strategic plan and execute it safely."

Hunter looked at his brothers, his expression resolute. "Alright, we think of something and something quickly."

As the brothers dispersed, the weight of their decisions hung heavily in the air. They knew that navigating this situation would be delicate, but with a plan in place, they hoped to find a solution that would keep everyone safe and protect the fragile balance within their family.

In the quiet of her room, Beka sat at her desk, pen in hand, struggling to find the right words. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows as she scribbled onto a sheet of paper. Her emotions were raw, and the letter was her way of expressing the turmoil she felt.

"Dear Seneca,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to reach out, not just as an old partner, but as someone who genuinely cares about your safety and well-being.

Things are complicated right now, and I need you to know that I'm okay. I understand you're fighting for the truth, but please, for your own sake, consider stepping back for a while. Your family needs you, and I wouldn't want to see you put yourself in danger over this.

I've always seen you as a sister, and it pains me to think of you in harm's way. Please focus on what matters most—your family. I promise you, I'll be alright. I just need you to be safe and stay with those who need you right now.

With all my heart, 

Rebekath Hardt."

Beka sighed, crumpling the letter slightly. She placed it in a drawer, hiding it from sight, hoping that Seneca would somehow understand her unspoken words.

As she stood to leave her room, Crosshair appeared in the doorway, having been watching Beka. His eyes were hard as he strode in and snatched the letter from the drawer. "What's this?"

Beka's eyes widened. "That's personal. Give it back!"

Ignoring her protests, Crosshair marched out of the room, dragging Beka along with him. Beka struggled, but Crosshair's grip was firm on her arm as he pulled her towards Hunter's office. The corridor felt interminable, each step echoing their tension.

Hunter was at his desk when they burst in. He looked up, his face a mix of surprise and anger. "What's going on here?"

Crosshair threw the letter onto Hunter's desk. "Hardt was writing a letter to Detective Mori. It seems she was planning to rat us out or something."

Hunter's expression darkened. "Crosshair, you had no right to lay hands on her. What's your problem?"

Beka, still fuming, glared at Crosshair. "Read the damn letter first. It's not what you think!"

Hunter picked up the letter and read it quickly. His frown deepened as he finished. He looked up at Beka, a mixture of concern and confusion in his eyes. "So, you weren't planning to expose us?"

Beka shook her head, her voice laced with frustration. "No, I just wanted Seneca to know that I'm okay. I didn't want her to put herself at risk. I'm trying to protect her."

Hunter sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Crosshair, you should have given her the benefit of the doubt. Darling, you need to understand that these situations are tense, and our reactions can be extreme."

Crosshair let Beka go and crossed his arms, still displeased but unwilling to argue further. "Fine, you're not off the hook yet."

Hunter turned to Beka, his voice softer. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. But please, we need to be on the same page." Hunter's eyes softened. "We'll find a way to navigate this without anyone else getting hurt."

Beka only walked out of the office. She sighed, her anger fading into exhaustion.

The tension in the house was thick, and even through the walls. Hunter paced his office, his mind racing over the events of the past few days. The door swung open abruptly, and Crosshair stormed in, his face a mask of frustration and anger.

"Hunter, we need to talk," Crosshair said, his voice strained.

Hunter looked up from his desk, his expression guarded. "What's on your mind?"

Crosshair didn't bother with pleasantries. "What the hell is happening with you? Why are you going soft over some random woman? Since when do you let personal feelings get in the way of our operations?"

Hunter's brow furrowed, and he clenched his jaw. "This is about Beka, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Crosshair snapped flicking his toothpick at Hunter's chest. "We've had countless discussions about keeping things professional, but now you're bending over backward for her. Why?"

Hunter sighed, rubbing his temples. "Beka is special to me in ways you don't fully understand."

Crosshair's eyes narrowed. "And what about the rest of us? We're putting ourselves at risk, making sacrifices, and you're more concerned about her feelings than our safety."

Hunter's voice grew firmer. "It's not just about her feelings. It's about protecting those who matter to us. Beka's been a target, and she's part of this now."

Crosshair's anger flared. "So, what, we just let our guard down because you've got a fucking soft spot for her? What happens when she jeopardizes everything we've worked for? What happens if she decides to walk away and spills our secrets?"

Hunter's face hardened. "Beka's not a threat. I won't just turn my back on her because of your paranoia."

Crosshair's frustration reached a boiling point. "You're not seeing the bigger picture. It's not just about her. It's about us, the family. We've worked too hard to let personal issues jeopardize everything we've built. You can't afford to be distracted by your feelings."

Hunter stood up, his posture rigid. "I'm not letting my feelings cloud my judgment."

Crosshair shook his head, exasperated. "You're playing with fire, Hunter. If you can't keep your damn emotions in check, it's going to come back to bite us."

Hunter's gaze was steely. "If standing by Beka means making tough choices, then so be it. I won't compromise on what matters."

Crosshair threw his hands up in frustration. "Don't say I didn't warn you. When things go south, and we're left picking up the pieces, don't come crying to me."

Without waiting for a response, Crosshair stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him. Hunter stood alone, the weight of Crosshair's words hanging heavily in the air. As he sat back down, Hunter resolved to prove that he could navigate these challenges without compromising the integrity of their operations or their family.

"Would you like a drink, sir?" One of the servants asked.

"Make it two." Hunter sighed as he turned his chair to face the window, seeing Beka playfully chase Omega with the dogs barking gleefully. He could hear their laughter through the window.

"Will that be all sir?" The servant asked placing down the two drinks on Hunter's desk.

"Fetch Echo, he'll be taking over the duties for today, I will be required sometime to myself," Hunter said as he stood up and began rolling down his sleeves.

"Yes sir." The servant said as he made a quick exit out the door.

Hunter adjusted his tie and as he began to head outside Echo stepped inside, "You needed me, boss?" Echo asked.

"I need to take over for me today, I need to do my own investigation," Hunter explained.

Echo raised an eyebrow but only nodded. Hunter walked past his young brother and closed the door behind him.

In the soft light of the late afternoon, Hunter made his way to the mansion's sprawling garden, drawn by the sound of laughter echoing through the air. From a distance, he spotted Beka, her graceful figure illuminated by the golden sun as she playfully chased after Omega, who squealed in delight while trying to dodge her.

Beka, with a mischievous grin, finally managed to catch the young girl by the waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. They both tumbled gently into the soft, cool grass, Omega's laughter ringing out like music in the quiet garden.

"Wrecker, save me!" Omega cried out, her voice full of playful desperation.

Wrecker, who was sitting on a nearby bench with a book in hand, glanced up briefly. He chuckled at the scene before him, shaking his head in amusement before returning to his reading.

"You thought you could escape the tickle monster, didn't you?" Beka teased, her eyes twinkling with a playful evil glint. She gently dug her fingers into Omega's sides, eliciting another round of giggles from the young girl.

After a few moments of playful torture, Beka relented, holding Omega close in her arms. She rested her chin on top of the girl's head, her expression softening as she looked over to her side, catching sight of Hunter. He stood there, one hand casually tucked into his pocket, his gaze fixed on her.

"Hey, back when I was a detective, we used to put people in headlocks," Beka said with a small, knowing smile.

Omega turned her head to listen, her curiosity piqued. Beka demonstrated a quick technique, while Omega watched with anticipation. "You should try it on Wrecker. Sneak up on him from behind," she whispered to Omega, who beamed with excitement before rushing off to where Wrecker sat.

Beka stood, brushing off the remnants of grass and dirt from her dress, before walking over to where Hunter waited. As she approached, the distance between them seemed to close not just physically, but emotionally, though an invisible barrier still lingered between them.

"Having fun?" Hunter asked, his voice warm yet tinged with something deeper.

"She's a special kid," Beka replied, her eyes following Omega as she attempted to take Wrecker by surprise. There was a softness in her gaze, a tenderness that spoke of a longing she could never quite express. For a moment, she looked at Omega as though the girl were her own daughter, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips.

"Gotcha!" Omega exclaimed as she leaped behind Wrecker, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck in an attempt at a headlock. Wrecker, unbothered, simply turned another page of his book. "Come on, Wrecker, you're supposed to fall over!" Omega pouted, though she couldn't help but giggle at her own failed attempt.

Hunter watched the interaction with a faint smile before turning his full attention to Beka. "I wanted to talk to you," he said, his tone serious as he looked straight into her eyes, his expression unreadable.

"About what?" Beka asked, her voice calm but tinged with a hint of apprehension. The way he was looking at her, it was as if he could see right through the walls, she had built around herself.

Hunter hesitated, his gaze searching hers as if weighing his words carefully. The garden, once filled with the playful sounds of Omega's laughter, now seemed almost too quiet, the air thick with the tension between them.

"I've been thinking... about us," he finally said, his voice low, almost as if he was afraid to say the words aloud. "About everything that's happened and everything that's... still between us."

Beka's heart skipped a beat. She had spent these last few months guarding herself, building walls so high that not even Hunter could breach them. But now, standing so close to him, those walls seemed to crumble, threatening to collapse under the weight of his gaze.

"What's there to say, Hunter?" Beka replied, her voice soft but laced with the remnants of old pain. "We both know where we stand. What's done is done."

Hunter took a step closer, closing the gap between them. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm, sending a familiar warmth through her that she hadn't felt in years. "Maybe that's just it, darling. Maybe we never really dealt with what happened. We just... buried it."

Beka looked down, her eyes tracing the patterns in the grass beneath her shoes. "It's not that simple," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Too much has changed."

"I know," Hunter said, his voice gentle, yet firm. "But some things haven't. I can see it in your eyes, Beka. The way you look at Omega... the way you look at me. There's still something there. Isn't there?"

Beka swallowed hard, the truth of his words hitting her like a punch to the gut. She had spent so long convincing herself that she had moved on. But now, standing here with him, she realized that those feelings had never really gone away. They had only been buried, like the very thing Hunter spoke of.

She raised her eyes to meet his, her defenses crumbling despite her best efforts. "What do you want from me, Hunter?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"I want us to be honest with each other," he said, his hand sliding down her arm until it reached hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. "I want to know if there's still a chance for us... if we can find a way back to what we had."

Beka's breath caught in her throat as she felt the warmth of his hand around hers, a warmth that both comforted and terrified her. Could they really go back? Could they rebuild what had been broken, or was it too late?

"I don't know if we can," Beka admitted, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "There's so much between us... so much that's unresolved."

Hunter squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing motion. "Then let's start with that. Let's resolve it. Together."

Beka looked into his eyes, searching for the sincerity in his words. Beka felt the weight of Hunter's words, the sincerity in his voice, and the warmth of his hand in hers. But as much as she wanted to believe in the possibility of a fresh start, the wounds of the past still ached deep within her.

She gently pulled her hand away, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions. "Hunter, I... I need time," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Hunter's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. "I get that, darling. Take all the time you need. Just know that I'm here... waiting, whenever you're ready."

Beka managed a small, grateful smile, though her heart was still in turmoil. She whispered, her voice barely audible. "I just need to sort through everything... to see if there's still a place for us in each other's lives."

Hunter stepped back slightly, giving her the space, she needed. "I'll be here," he repeated softly. "No matter what you decide."

With that, Beka turned, her eyes drifting back to Omega, who was now wrestling with Wrecker in the grass, her laughter bright and carefree. Beka's heart swelled with motherly affection for the child, but the uncertainty about her future with Hunter weighed heavily on her.

"Beka help!" Omega yelled with laughter.

"You gotta squeeze harder Omega!" Beka called out walking towards them with a big smile on her face.

Hunter watched her go, deep inside he was afraid of what her decision would be.

[persepinas]

For @sylvieons, who chatted about TikTok famous Lestat with me. Hehe. Here you go! Merry belated Christmas!

Summary: Louis and Lestat in 2022. Lestat is popular in his band The Vampire Lestat and very TikTok famous. Louis doesn’t see the point. Lestat’s fans do, though, and want to see more of the elusive Louis de Pointe du Lac.

Rating: T

Words: 6341

[izzyspussy]

[image description: a cropped photo of a bullet journal page. there are four icons drawn inside squares in shades of green. the icons are a play button, a scene board, an open book, and a writing quill. they are minimalist and stylized to have no curved lines. beside each square something that corresponds to the icon is written in a matching shade of green. /end ID]

Media I Loved Last Week

My favorite thing I listened to last week was Quinine by Dessa. Eddie my girl Eddie, Eddie my girl. My girl Eddie. My girl. Eddie. Also it sounds nice lmao. Made it to #1 on my On Repeat in three days. My housemates wish death upon me. 10/10

My favorite thing I watched last week was Cooties. Polyamory between Elijah Wood, Rainn Wilson, and some girl. And they beat up a bunch of school children. Docked it a point because I thought it was more uncomfortable than funny in most cases, and that's not my personal style. 9/10

My favorite thing I read last week was The Verifiers by Jane Pek. I started reading this uhhhh September last year?? RIP. I started where I left off, and I don't remember every detail but it's pretty easy to follow for a mystery! Which is a feature for me (right now), not a bug. 10/10

I wrote 6341 words total last week. All of that went toward Curse The Messenger, and I finished chapter three on Saturday. I'm still waayyy behind, but I'm slowly catching up. Pretty happy with this progress.

[dhr-ao3]

Cinnamon

Cinnamon https://ift.tt/uxtj6gc by Evalynn_Ditty In high pureblood society, being an omega is rare and in high demand. So it was no surprise when an omega around the age of the Malfoy family’s son came along that they would jump at the opportunity to get bonding contracts written. It’s a well known fact that the Malfoy’s treat there omegas like royalty, so the green grasses didn’t hesitate to promise there daughter Astoria to be Draco Malfoy’s bonded. At least until one Hermione Granger starts presenting and she starts catching the eyes of all the eligible Alpha’s as well as the ineligible ones. Words: 6341, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Major Character Death Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley, Minerva McGonagall, Cormac McLaggen Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Omega Verse, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Canon Divergence - Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Omega Hermione Granger, Other Additional Tags to Be Added via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/zw0OIbu November 20, 2023 at 01:12AM

[ao3feed-jag]

Christmas would not be Christmas without you

by Melfina_gene_starwind [archived by BetweentheLines_Archivist] Words: 6341, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: JAG (TV 1995) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings via https://ift.tt/bKBs4OF

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Pretty Kitty

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/NkeqU0H by bonking_around Universe: SPN - Bunker Dean: Human, Top Cas: Angel, Bottom Relationship: Established Prompt: petplay Background: Cas gets cursed to have kitty ears. Takes place Season 13. Words: 6341, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 11 of Studies in Affection Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack Kline, Mary Winchester, Rowena MacLeod, Metatron (Good Omens), Michael (Supernatural) Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Cursed Object, Gardens & Gardening, spells, cat!castiel, Feral Behavior, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Loving Dean Winchester, Sleepy Cuddles, Blow Jobs, Scenting, 69 (Sex Position), Rimming, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/NkeqU0H

[sskk-ao3feed]

let me put my lips to something

by banji_shiield

With Atsushi's tongue down his throat, Akutagawa was finding it hard to remember that they were supposed to hate each other.

---

Akutagawa and Atsushi hook up, then go for a grocery run at 2:30 to buy the following morning's breakfast... and Chuuya and Dazai catch them.

Words: 6341, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Relationships: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Additional Tags: dazai and chuuya r married but also theyre not important to the plot, Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, princess kink, why is that not a tag, Hand Jobs, Bottom Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Top Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), id say dom/sub but like. its fluid, Biting, Scratching, Praise Kink, Body Worship, Aftercare, Grocery Shopping, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, POV Akutagawa Ryuunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), POV Third Person, Laughter During Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Literal Sleeping Together, but also sex, Pan Akutagawa Ryunosuke, Bi Nakajima Atsushi, Mild Feminization

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/48475198

[massivedrickhead]

Five times Character A treated Character B’s injuries, plus one time B treated A’s. 🥹

Words: 6341

Read on AO3

Send one of these?

Five times Beca treated Chloe’s injuries… 

1

“How did you skin your knee? Are you ten?” Beca asked, her voice bordering on incredulous as she watched Chloe wincing as she picked out bits of gravel from the grazed skin.

“I was trying to get to the ice cream truck before he drove away,” Chloe said as if that was perfectly reasonable. 

“So closer to seven years old than ten,” Beca said. “Why does the ice-cream truck even come here, this is a college campus. We’re literally surrounded by fraternity and sorority houses.”

“I think he sells weed too,” Chloe said. “Allegedly.”

“Oh well if I’d known that I’d have chased him down too,” Beca said, frowning as Chloe continued to pick at her knee. ”Do we have a first aid kit?”

“Kitchen probably,” Chloe said. Beca stood and headed for the kitchen. “I don’t think I need first aid.”

Beca returned holding the small plastic box in one hand, and a popsicle in the other. 

“We literally have ice cream in the freezer,” Beca said, taking a seat on the coffee table opposite where Chloe was sitting. She batted Chloe’s hand out of the way of her knee and handed her the popsicle. 

“It’s not the same,” Chloe said with a pout. 

“You’re right, it’s significantly cheaper,” Beca said. 

“I was trying to support a small business. If we don’t use the ice cream truck he might stop coming here altogether!”

Beca let out a snort of laughter. “Oh my god, you’re adorable.”

She took an antiseptic wipe from the box and shot Chloe an apologetic look before she cleaned the graze on her knee. 

“Ow!” Chloe said, hitting Beca’s arm on instinct. 

“Thank you for that,” Beca said. “Eat your popsicle.”

“Eat your popsicle,” Chloe repeated in a childish voice. Beca raised her eyebrows at her. “Sorry,” she said.

Beca stuck a bandaid on Chloe’s knee before shutting the box and making a move to stand. 

“Ahem,” Chloe said, gesturing down at her knee. 

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you going to kiss it better?”

Beca rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. She pressed a quick kiss to the bandaid and stood up. 

“Thank you!” Chloe called after her as Beca returned the first aid box to the kitchen. 

2

Beca looked up from her phone when she heard the sound of muffled swearing and pans clattering from the kitchen.

She let out a soft sigh as she headed to the kitchen, the half-composed text to Jesse on her phone now abandoned.

“What happened?” Beca asked, watching Chloe crouched on the kitchen floor, picking up cookies that had been dropped from the baking sheet.

“Nothing,” Chloe said. “I just burned my hand getting the cookies out.” She straightened up and threw the cookies that had been on the floor into the trash, and dropped the baking sheet with the remaining cookies on the bench.

“Let me see,” Beca said.

Chloe moved the dish towel out of the way and Beca saw the angry red burn along the side of her hand.

“Ouch,” Beca said softly. She turned on the faucet and waited for the water to run cold before she took Chloe’s hand and held it underneath.

The relief was immediate, and the scowl fell away from Chloe’s face. “Thanks,” she said.

“I read once you should keep it under the water for like ten minutes and then wrap it in saran wrap or something,” Beca said, frowning as she tried to remember. “Let me Google it.”

“Bec, it’s fine,” Chloe said, smirking at the concern on her best friend’s face. “I bought some burn cream after the last time I baked something.”

“Yeah, maybe no more baking for you,” Beca said. 

“Eat one of those cookies and tell me you want me to stop baking.”

Beca did and her eyes widened almost immediately.

“Dude, how long have you been able to make those?” 

Chloe laughed and shrugged as Beca ate another one. She batted her hand away when she went for a third.

“There needs to be enough to go around,” Chloe said. “And I just dropped half of them on the floor so you can’t eat another one.”

“Fine,” Beca said. “I’m buying you some oven gloves because clearly, the dish towel method isn’t working.”

“If you insist,” Chloe said, switching off the faucet and grabbing a paper towel to dry off her hands. The burning feeling came back immediately, and Chloe immediately wanted to stick her hand back under the cold water. She didn’t want Beca to know it hurt worse than she was letting on though, so she simply flexed and shook it a few times before giving Beca a smile. “You forgot to do something.”

“What’s that?”

Chloe held her hand out. “Kiss it better?”

Once again, Beca rolled her eyes but took Chloe’s hand anyway. She pressed the lightest kiss she could on the side of her hand, making sure not to actually touch the burn.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, her grin getting impossibly brighter. “What are you up to right now, do you wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure,” Beca said, following Chloe into the living room, the unfinished text on her phone completely forgotten about.

3.

It was becoming a bit of a common occurrence now. Beca had never realised how accident-prone Chloe was until they lived together.

Chloe was a lot of things. She was smart, funny, kind, she could dance and she had the voice of an angel, but she was also… kind of a clutz. She was clumsy, and a little forgetful, and that made her a bit of a hazard in the kitchen.

The first aid kit that had been provided to every sorority and fraternity on campus was depleted faster at the Bellas’ house than any of the others, and Beca often found herself making trips to the drug store to replenish it.

It was on one of these trips that she got a text from Chloe, that had her both exasperated and concerned in equal measure.

Chloe: Hey, while you’re at the store can you grab bandaids? We’re all out xx

Chloe: And bandages? xx

Chloe was waiting patiently for Beca to get home. She was sitting up on the kitchen island with her hand wrapped in a bloody cloth. None of the other Bellas were home, and Chloe was trying not to panic. 

She knew the cut was deep, she could tell that from the amount of blood that was still soaking through the cloth, but she was too scared to pull it away to assess the damage. It hurt, but not as much as she thought it should have, which also caused her to worry.

Her phone buzzed and Beca’s face appeared on the screen, she answered the call and put it on speakerphone.

“Hey,” Chloe said, trying to sound upbeat.

“How bad is it?” Beca asked.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Chloe said. “I was just chopping some veggies and-”

“Chlo’,” Beca said, cutting her off. “Do you need me to come home now, or can I finish shopping?”

Chloe looked at the bloodied cloth and began feeling a touch lightheaded.

“I think I need you to come home,” she said. 

“Okay,” Beca said. “I’ll pay for these and I’ll be home soon. Stay on the call with me?”

Chloe rolled her eyes but smiled. “Bec, I’m not gonna die.”

“Chloe, you’re so chill about this kind of thing that I wouldn’t be surprised if I got home and found you sitting there with a bloody stump for a hand. Just… I’m going to be panicking until I get home if I don’t know you’re okay. So stay on the phone with me,” Beca said. Chloe could hear the barely restrained panic in her voice, so she agreed to stay on the call.

It didn’t take long for Beca to get back to the Bellas’ house, and she was soon hurrying through the door.

She took one look at the red cloth wrapped around Chloe’s hand and her eyes widened.

“I think it’s still bleeding,” Chloe said, wincing slightly as Beca came over and took hold of her hand. 

Beca was frankly alarmed at the amount of blood in the kitchen, and by the way Chloe seemed significantly paler than usual. 

“We should get this cleaned up,” Beca said. “Can you stand up without passing out?”

“Yes,” Chloe said. “It’s not that serious.”

Beca grabbed one of their island stools and placed it near the sink. She helped Chloe to her feet and walked her over to the other chair. Chloe thought it was completely unnecessary but Beca was kind of adorable when she switched into this caring protective mode, so Chloe just let her carry on.

“Okay,” Beca said, turning on the faucet and then turning her attention back to Chloe’s hand. “I’m gonna unwrap all this and then we can clean the blood off and see what we’re dealing with.”

“You’d have made a good doctor, you know?” Chloe said, trying not to look at the bloody mess as Beca peeled away the cloth.

“Please, my medical expertise goes as far as ‘stick it under running water and hope for the best’,” Beca said.

“Well, that’s why you go to school, dummy.”

“Rude,” Beca said, frowning as she looked down at Chloe’s hand. “I think this might need stitches Chlo’.”

“What? No, it’s fine,” Chloe said, looking down into the sink and immediately regretting it. The cut looked deep, deeper than she’d expected it to be, and as soon as it was out of the running water it filled with blood again. She was glad Beca had made her sit down. 

“I just think we should get it checked out,” Beca said. “How long have you been sitting there putting pressure on it?”

“Like thirty minutes,” Chloe admitted.

“And it’s still bleeding,” Beca said. “So I think we should get this looked at by someone who knows what they’re doing.” Using the newly bought supplies, she wrapped Chloe’s hand up as best she could before they got into the car. “Can you call one of the Bellas and put them on speakerphone?”

“Sure,” Chloe said, hitting call on the group chat and waiting for one of them to answer.

“Chloe, did you butt dial the group again?” Amy’s exasperated voice asked.

“Hey, it’s me,” Beca said, leaning towards the phone that Chloe held up to her as they drove. “The kitchen looks like a crime scene. There was a Chloe Beale incident so I’m taking her to get stitches, I just didn’t want anyone to freak out when they saw the blood.”

“Okay, I’ll pass the message on. Is she okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chloe said. “Beca’s just being overly cautious.”

“And Chloe’s being overly blasé,” Beca said. “Call you later, okay?”

“Sure thing cap,” Amy said.

“And Amy, if you felt like helping out and cleaning up the kitchen we’d appreciate it,” Beca said.

“Sorry cap, bad reception, didn’t get any of that,” Amy said, making cracking sounds with her mouth.

Beca rolled her eyes and Chloe chuckled.

“Bye Amy,” Chloe said, hanging up. “A Chloe Beale incident?” She asked Beca.

“Uh, you know, an incident that involves Chloe Beale and a knife, or oven, or pair of rollerblades, or that one time with the hula-hoop-”

“Okay,” Chloe said, cutting her off. “I get it.”

“Does it hurt?” Beca asked, glancing across the car.

Chloe shook her head. “Not really.”

“Good.”

“You don’t have to wait with me you know? It’ll probably take hours just to get seen,” Chloe said.

Beca pulled a face. “I’m not leaving you alone in the hospital, Beale.” 

“You don’t have plans with Jesse tonight?” Chloe asked.

“No,” Beca said. “We’re, um, we’re fighting right now. But even if we weren’t, I still wouldn’t ditch you.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No, it’s fine,” Beca said. “It’s my fault, again. We’ll be fine. I just need to apologise. Which I will, as soon as he’ll let me.”

Chloe didn’t say anything else. Jesse was a nice guy, but Chloe couldn’t pretend they were close, or that they were even friends. Chloe always thought Jesse had been a little… suspicious of her. She always thought he knew more than he let on when it came to her, so she had always just kept her distance from him.

Secretly, she’d always thought Beca could do better.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Beca pressed a gentle hand to the side of her face, moving some hair out of the way and tucking it behind her ear.

“You okay? You got quiet and you’re really pale,” Beca said.

“Yeah,” Chloe said, smiling at the concern on Beca’s face. “I’m fine.”

They arrived at the hospital and spent the next few hours in the waiting room before someone eventually came to stitch up Chloe’s hand.

“Told you you needed stitches,” Beca said, proudly. “Maybe I should be a doctor. Do you think it’s too late to change the entire direction of my life?”

“Think it might be,” Chloe said, laughing as Beca tried to keep her distracted from what the doctor was doing.

Once they were done Beca drove them home, stopping off at McDonald's on the way back since they hadn’t gotten the chance to make and eat dinner.

“Out of ten, what are the chances that the girls cleaned up the mess in the kitchen?” Beca asked, taking a fry out of the bag in Chloe’s lap as they left the drive-through.

“Like a negative one,” Chloe said. “The only person who would have cleaned up is Jessica and she and Ashley are out of town.”

“I bet Legacy would have cleaned up,” Beca said. 

“Emily doesn’t even live in the house yet,” Chloe said.

“She’s there constantly, I bet she cleaned up,” Beca said, reaching for another fry. “She’s always so eager for our approval.”

“She has our approval.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Beca said, glancing across the car before her hand went for the bag of fries again.

“Can you keep your hands on the wheel?” Chloe asked. “Here, I’ll feed you one if you’re that hungry.”

She popped a fry in Beca’s mouth.

“Wait, bring that hand back,” Beca said.

Chloe frowned but brought her hand back close to Beca’s mouth. Beca pressed a quick kiss against her bandage. “I hadn’t kissed it better yet.”

4

Chloe knew she’d had too much to drink. She knew her hangover would be miserable tomorrow. She knew she’d be full of regrets, and promises to never drink again.

She knew all of these things but she kept on drinking.

She was trying to get to that blissful drunk stage. Where nothing else mattered except existing in the moment. Dancing, singing, arms thrown around the people she loved.

She wanted to be there, but tonight, no matter how much she drank, she couldn’t reach it. She couldn’t get out of her head.

They were having one of their infamous a Capella-only parties, and this time the Bellas were hosting. 

Chloe had been having a good time at the beginning of the night.

She hadn’t been able to find Beca, but she tried not to let that bother her. When the Bellas and Treblemakers had joint parties, Beca and Jesse would often sneak off early. She’d always tried not to let that bother her either.

A few hours into the party, she was handing out jello shots when she heard raised voices coming from one of the rooms that had been shut off. Chloe took a step closer and frowned when she heard that one of the people yelling was Beca.

“I’m so fucking sick of having this same argument with you, dude!”

“What do you want me to say, Beca? She is clearly in love with you, and you’re just refusing to see it!”

“You’re an idiot, Chloe is not in love with me!”

Chloe felt her chest get tight and her face burn.

“Everyone can see it but you, Beca. And maybe you’re just that oblivious, or maybe you’re pretending, but the way you two are together makes me uncomfortable, and I feel like you’re not taking my feelings seriously.”

Chloe didn’t want to listen anymore.

She walked away, grabbing the last few jello shots from the tray and taking them both quickly.

She found Stacie in the kitchen and pulled her to one side.

“I need to get really drunk, really fast, can you help me?”

Stacie, to her credit, didn’t ask questions. She just started filling a cup with various liquors and juices before handing it over.

“Come find me if you wanna talk about it,” Stacie said. 

“What if I need another one?”

Stacie smiled. “You won’t need another one.”

Chloe took a drink and knew she was in trouble because she couldn’t taste the alcohol.

She got it down quickly and waited for that fun floaty drunk feeling to hit her.

It didn’t. 

She could still hear the disgust in Jesse’s voice as he’d talked about her. The incredulity in Beca’s as she’d flat out denied that Chloe could have been in love with her.

She felt drunk, but not drunk enough, so she drank more.

And more.

And that’s how she found herself at the top of the stairs, sitting against the wall as she watched other Bellas and Treblemakers taking their turns sliding down the stairs on the plastic tray, the room slanting around her as she tried to keep herself upright.

“Please tell me you aren’t thinking of joining in,” Stacie said, taking a seat beside Chloe.

Chloe shrugged. “Maybe. They look like they’re having fun.”

“And you don’t,” Stacie said.

Chloe didn’t say anything, she just let her head drop onto Stacie’s shoulder.

“Does everyone know?” Chloe asked eventually.

“Know what?”

“I heard Jesse and Beca fighting. He said… He said everyone could see it but her,” Chloe said, tears filling her eyes before she could stop them. “Does everyone know that I’m in love with her?”

“No,” Stacie said softly. “I don’t think everyone knows. Jesse shouldn’t have said that, it’s not your fault his relationship isn’t working out.”

“I feel like an idiot,” Chloe said. “I thought I’d kept it hidden pretty well, but now… Has everyone just been laughing at me this whole time?”

“Chloe, of course not,” Stacie said. 

“I need to not be here,” Chloe said, struggling to her feet. “I need another drink.”

“Would not recommend,” Stacie said. 

“I’m not drunk enough yet, and this is a party after all,” Chloe said, pulling her arm out of Stacie’s grasp and heading for the stairs.

She made it down most of them, but then misjudged a step halfway down and managed to fall down the last couple.

The crowd let out a cheer, as if she’d done some impressive trick, and carried on partying.

Stacie hurried down the stairs, just as Jesse burst out of the kitchen, through the entryway, and out of the front door.

Beca was close behind him when she spotted Chloe on the ground, and Stacie helping her sit against the wall.

She didn’t even hesitate. 

She rushed over towards Chloe.

“What happened?” Beca asked.

“Nothing,” Chloe said, trying to push Stacie away from her. 

“She fell down the stairs,” Stacie said. 

“Oh my god,” Beca said, crouching down in front of Chloe. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Chloe said, an edge to her voice that wasn’t normally there. 

“Hey,” Beca said, softly. “What’s going on?”

Chloe wanted to tell her to go away. She wanted to say that she was fine and that she didn’t need her fussing over her, and making her boyfriend uncomfortable. 

But Beca was looking at her with such a soft expression of genuine concern, that Chloe couldn’t do anything but start to cry.

“I fell down the stairs,” she said, tears coming fast now. She didn’t want to tell Beca the real reason she was so upset, so she focused on the pain in her shin and her arm, and the growing feeling of embarrassment. “Everyone saw.”

“It’s okay,” Beca said. “I bet you looked really cool. Come on Evel Knievel, we should get you to bed.”

“Bec, I can take over if you need to go deal with that,” Stacie said, nodding towards the door that Jesse had recently stormed out of.

“No, that’s okay,” Beca said, standing and holding out her hands so she could help Chloe to her feet. “I don’t think there’s anything left to deal with.”

Stacie nodded and patted Beca on the back. “Get her up to bed and I’ll bring some water and Advil.”

“And an ice pack?”

“Sure,” Stacie said.

Beca pulled a still sniffling Chloe to her feet and helped her up the stairs and to her room.

“What hurts?” Beca asked as Chloe sat on her bed.

“Everything,” Chloe said, miserably.

“Does anything feel broken?” 

Chloe shrugged in response, so Beca spent the next few minutes checking her over, checking her arms and wrists and ankles, moving them gently to make sure none of them seemed particularly sore or swollen.

Watching Beca treat her so softly made her chest hurt. She wished she could tell her that thing that apparently everyone but her knew about. She wanted to tell her that Jesse was right. She was in love with her.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk their friendship. So she focused on blinking back her tears and keeping her breathing steady. 

“Think you might be okay,” Beca said. She pressed lightly on Chloe’s knee, and the redhead let out a hiss of pain. “Or not.”

Stacie arrived with the water, Advil, and an ice pack from the freezer.

“Thanks, Stace,” Beca said. 

Stacie shrugged. “I provided the alcohol, I feel partly responsible. Feel better Chlo’.” She left the room and Beca and Chloe were alone again.

“Can you hand me some pyjamas?” Chloe asked, still sounding miserable.

“Sure,” Beca said, grabbing some from her drawer and handing them over. She fiddled around with her phone, looking for a playlist to put on, while Chloe got changed.

She hit play on one of her more chilled-out playlists and waited for Chloe to tell her she was done.

“My knee hurts,” Chloe said. 

Beca looked up and saw Chloe had changed but that one leg of her pyjama pants had been rolled up. She was prodding her knee gently and wincing as she did it.

“Here,” Beca said, moving her hand away and putting the ice pack on it. 

Chloe took the water from her nightstand and drank, trying to push away the urge to cry again.

“Do you want me to go?” Beca asked once she’d helped Chloe get comfortable in bed.

“No,” Chloe said. “Not unless you want to.”

“I don’t,” Beca admitted.

Chloe pulled back the blanket and patted the empty space beside her in the double bed. Beca smiled. “Can I borrow some pyjamas?”

“Yeah,” Choe said.

Beca’s room was only upstairs, but neither girl wanted to leave the other right now. 

She pulled on one of Chloe’s t-shirts and a pair of shorts and carefully climbed into the bed beside her, doing her best not to hurt her knee. 

“Your boyfriend doesn’t like me,” Chloe said after a little while, Beca’s music still filling the silence.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like him very much right now. In fact, I don’t think he’s actually my boyfriend anymore,” Beca said.

Chloe didn’t know what to say, so she just reached out and took hold of her hand.

“I’m sorry Bec,” she said. “Are you okay?”

Beca shrugged. “I will be.”

“What happened?”

“We’ve just been fighting a lot lately and, um, I guess he was feeling a bit…I don’t know… I think he was jealous or insecure or something because of my friendships. He said I never put him first, that he never feels like a priority.”

“Do you think that’s true?” Chloe asked. Even in her drunken state she didn’t want to get in the middle of Beca and Jesse’s relationship.

“I think it might be,” Beca said. “And that makes me feel bad, but I don’t want to change the way I treat my friends. He, um, he gave me a bit of an ultimatum I guess. And I feel shitty about this, but when it comes down to it I think I can picture my future without Jesse in it. I can’t… I can’t picture my future without you in it.”

Chloe’s hand tightened around Beca’s. “I’m sorry he made you pick,” Chloe said. “But I’m glad you picked me.”

“Always, Chlo’,” Beca said. “I’d always pick you.”

They were quiet for a little while longer and Chloe began to feel some of the heaviness begin to lift from her chest. 

“So, I hurt myself and you haven’t kissed it better yet,” Chloe said.

Beca laughed and rolled onto her side so she could look at her.

“You want me to kiss your knee?”

“I mean, it has an ice pack on it, that’s kinda inconvenient,” Chloe said, a playful smile on her face now. “But that wasn’t the only thing I hurt when I fell down the stairs.”

“I don’t know how to kiss an ego better,” Beca said, earning a playful swat from Chloe. 

“I hit my face too, you know,” Chloe said.

“You did, huh?”

“Yep,” Chloe said. “My mouth actually.”

Beca swallowed and raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“Uh huh,” Chloe said. She tapped her bottom lip. “Right there.”

Beca let out a snort of laughter. “You’re a dork,” she said. She reached out to tuck a strand of Chloe’s hair behind her ear. “Just one, to make it better, and then we can maybe talk about this again when you’re sober.”

“Works for me,” Chloe said, grinning as Beca pressed the lightest of kisses against her lips. 

5

Beca was fast asleep when she heard the buzzer of her apartment door. She woke up with a start, almost knocking the laptop that had been balanced on her legs onto the floor.

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to read her phone to figure out what time it was when she heard the buzzer again.

She stumbled out of bed, feeling clumsy and tired, and crossed the room to the doorway. She pushed on the intercom.

“Hello?” She mumbled.

“Bec? Can you let me in?”

Chloe’s voice was quiet. Far too quiet. She’d been out with some friends from work, and Beca had been expecting her to come barging in some time past midnight, offering her pizza and telling her about her night.

She was expecting giggly tipsy Chloe who couldn’t regulate her volume, not whoever that voice had belonged to.

She hit the button on the intercom to unlock the door to their building, unlocked their apartment door, and went into the kitchen, pouring two glasses of water while she waited.

She told herself Chloe must have just forgotten her keys, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

The door opened and Chloe slipped inside quickly, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Forget your keys?” Beca asked, watching as Chloe slid the chain across the door.

There was something off about her that Beca couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Baby, is everything okay?” Beca asked.

“I, um, I think I just got mugged,” Chloe said, her voice quiet and shaky.

“Oh my god,” Beca said, the tiredness she’d felt seconds ago was gone in an instant. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know,” she said, tears filling her eyes. She looked helplessly at Beca, silently asking for her to fix it. To make it better.

Beca swallowed. “Okay,” she said, pushing down the rising feeling of panic. “Come sit down.”

She took Chloe by the hand and led her to their bed. Chloe sat down on the edge of it and Beca wasted no time in pulling her into her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she felt Chloe begin to cry against her chest.

“You’re okay,” Beca said softly. 

“He-he took my bag,” Chloe said, her voice catching in her throat as she tried to stop crying. “My keys, my phone, my bank cards, they’re gone.”

“It’s all stuff we can replace,” Beca said. She ended their hug and looked at Chloe properly, brushing the hair from her face. “Did he hurt you?”

Chloe shook her head. “I fell when he grabbed my bag,” she said. “The strap was over my shoulder and he yanked it and I’m wearing these stupid shoes so I went down and hit my knee. I’ll probably have a bruise tomorrow. My wrist hurts a little too from where I tried to break my fall.

“Let me see,” Beca said, moving back slightly. 

Chloe moved her dress away from her leg, and Beca saw a scrape along the side of her knee.

“Another skinned knee, huh?” Beca asked, smiling when she heard Chloe’s soft laugh in response.

“Are you going to kiss it better?”

“Always,” Beca said, pressing a quick kiss to Chloe’s thigh before turning her attention to her wrist. She winced when Beca touched it, and Beca went to grab an ice pack from the freezer - she always had some ready, because you never knew with Chloe - along with their always stocked first aid kit.

She put the ice pack on Chloe’s wrist and turned her attention back to her knee.

“We should go to urgent care or something in the morning if your wrist looks any worse,” Beca said. “And we should call the cops too, and start cancelling your bank cards.”

“Thank you for being so calm and level-headed,” Chloe said, watching as Beca cleaned her knee with the same care and tenderness she’d shown her all those years ago.

“Inside I’m freaking out,” Beca said, laughing softly. “Are you okay?���

“I’m tired,” Chloe said. “But also kinda freaked out too.”

“Why don’t you get ready for bed and I’ll go make you some tea? I’ll call the cops too,” Beca said.

“Okay.”

“Are you hungry?”

Chloe shook her head and Beca kissed her forehead before returning to the kitchen.

Chloe cleaned off her makeup and changed into pyjamas, wincing every time she moved her wrist. 

Beca was waiting for her on their bed by the time she was done in the bathroom.

“They’re gonna send someone in the morning,” Beca said. 

Chloe nodded and climbed into bed beside her, taking a sip of tea before she put it down and curled into Beca’s side.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Beca said, kissing the top of her head. “And I’m so glad it wasn’t worse.”

“Me too,” Chloe said. “I’m really glad you’re here, Bec. I love you, thank you for always taking such good care of me.”

“Of course, Chlo’. I love you too.”

… plus one time Chloe treated Beca’s

Beca staggered against the current as she struggled to get out of the sea and onto the shore.

The water was shallow but the current was so brutally strong that she found it hard to stay on her feet.

As she finally made it onto the shore, safe for the time being, she felt the magnitude of what just happened hit her.

She made it a few more steps before she stumbled and fell to her knees, retching as she did. A mixture of vomit and seawater hitting the sand below her.

“Gross,” Amy deadpanned as she walked past Beca, walking further up the beach where the other Bellas were huddled.

She wanted to tell Amy to bite her, but she was crippled by another wave of nausea and she vomited again.

“It’s okay,” Chloe’s gentle voice said from beside her, a steady hand coming to rest on her back. “We’re okay.”

“S-sorry,” Beca shivered, sitting back, wiping her mouth with a wet sleeve. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Chloe said, her eyebrows pulled together in concern as she brushed a strand of wet hair behind Beca’s ear. “You’re bleeding.”

There was a consistent throb of pain in her forehead and Beca reached up to touch it, frowning when the tips of her fingers came back bloody.

“I don’t even know how that happened,” Beca said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chloe said. “Cold and wet, but I’m not hurt.”

“The others?”

Chloe gestured to the group of girls sitting further up the beach, all huddled together for warmth. “Everyone made it out alive, thanks to you and Amy.”

“Good,” Beca said, a fleeting feeling of relief rushing through her. 

“Do you think you can stand? We should go join them.”

Gripping Chloe’s hand tightly, Beca struggled to her feet, and the pair made their way over to join the rest of the Bellas.

“Feeling okay cap?” Amy asked.

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Does anyone know where we are?”

“No clue,” Aubrey said. “I guess no one still has their phones?”

Beca pulled hers out of her pocket - it hadn’t been taken by Amy’s Dad like the rest of them - but it was predictably dead. “Anyone got a bowl of rice?” She tossed it onto the sand.

“Someone will come for us,” Chloe said, confidently. “There was just a massive explosion, and I’m sure Chicago and the others will have realised we’re missing by now.”

“If they haven’t found us by morning, we should search this… island or wherever we are,” Aubrey said. “We’ll need water and food and a way to make a fire.”

“Isn’t this what you spent all those years training for?” Amy asked. “At your wilderness survival camp or whatever?”

“It was a wilderness lodge meant for corporate retreats, Amy,” Aubrey replied. “It hardly makes me Bear Grylls.”

Beca let the sound of their argument begin to wash over her, and she let her head drop onto Chloe’s shoulder.

“Bec?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Tired,” Beca replied, her eyes itching to close despite every instinct she had her telling her not to.

“Try and stay awake,” Chloe said, doing a decent job of keeping the panic out of her voice. “You have a head injury.”

Beca let out a shiver and sat up straighter. She knew Chloe was right, even if the idea of falling asleep was far more tempting than dealing with this mess they were in.

“Let me see,” Chloe said, moving so she was kneeling in front of Beca, her hand tilting her chin so she could get a better look at her injury. 

“Does it look bad?”

Chloe shrugged. “I don’t know, usually I’m in the injured one.”

Beca felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. “Are you going to kiss it better?”

Chloe let out a soft laugh, and she pressed her lips against Beca’s cold, damp, forehead. 

“Someone will come for us, right?” Beca asked, still gazing into Chloe’s eyes.

“Of course,” Chloe said. 

They sat for hours on the beach, huddled together, waiting for the sun to come up.

Most of the girls had fallen into a restless sleep, but Chloe kept Beca talking all night. She wouldn’t let her close her eyes for a second.

They talked about their future. About what would happen if Beca agreed to go to L.A. and work with DJ Khaled - “which of course you’ve got to do!” Chloe had insisted. 

Chloe had promised it wouldn’t change anything. She promised she would move with her to L.A. if that’s what it took, and they talked with a quiet excitement about where they might live, what their place would look like, and what this next chapter of their life together would bring.

When the sun began peaking above the horizon, Chloe felt Beca’s weight on her side getting heavier. Her own throat was sore from talking so much, and the urge to give in and close her eyes was almost overwhelming. 

Just as she was about to, she heard something in the distance.

“Beca, can you hear that?”

Chloe had to shake her a few times to get a response.

“Hmm?”

“Wake up, can you hear that?”

Beca forced her eyes open. Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry, and her eyes hurt against the light of the rising sun, but she tried to concentrate on whatever it was Chloe could hear.

“There!” Chloe said, pointing to the horizon. “A boat!”

Beca smiled as the girls around them began waking up, all jumping up and running to the shoreline, waving frantically.

She wanted to get up and join them, but she was just too tired now. 

She saw the boat get closer to the shore, and saw the Bellas cheering as they recognised that the person driving the boat was from the military. They could just about make out Chicago and his broad shoulders waving back at them.

They’d be okay.

They’d make it home.

She lay back in the sand, the tension leaving her body as she let her eyes fall closed.

“Beca!”

Her eyes opened sluggishly and focused on Chloe who was hovering over her.

“Not yet, okay? You have to stay with me. Promise me?”

“Promise,” Beca said, as Chloe pulled her to her feet. Her legs were shaky when she stood up, but Chloe stayed glued to her side, half carrying her towards the boat that had pulled up as close as it could.

“Almost there,” Chloe said. “I’ve got you.”

Strong arms seemed to come from nowhere and lift her up onto the boat. Silver blankets were passed around with bottles of water, and soon Chloe was sitting back in front of her, a small first aid kit on the floor between them.

“Time for me to return the favour I think,” Chloe said.

Beca smiled. “Don’t forget to kiss it better.”

[blouisparadise]

There are so many amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of December. We’re entering a new year feeling incredibly grateful for the amazing fics we got in 2021, and excited for the many we’ll get in 2022!

Happy reading!

1) Spinning In My Highest Heels, Love | Explicit | 2041 words

Harry fucks Louis because that's how it works.

2) Secret Feelings | Explicit | 2745 words

After having a lads' night, Harry couldn't handle his feelings for Louis anymore and acted on it.

3) Secret Feelings 2 | Explicit | 3598 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #2 on this list.

Harry and Louis explore more of their relationship after their confession the next night.

4) Lads Night | Explicit | 3767 words

Louis gets fucked by his bandmates as a fun night with his boyfriend, Harry Styles.

5) Need Your Knot | Mature | 3912 words

The Tomlinson's are rich. Louis is not the most outgoing omega, and since his parents have the money, they buy an alpha to help ride out Louis's heat. Harry is an alpha.

6) Make This Feel Like Home | Mature | 4473 words

Harry and Louis finally move in together! Basically just a fluff piece.

7) Destined For Heartbreak | Mature | 5046 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis’s rules: 1- Call me sir, until instructed otherwise. 2- I don’t do early mornings. I like my breakfast brought to me. Don’t wake me before 9 unless absolutely necessary. 3- Every Monday night is bath night. I’ll teach you the routine. 4- I don’t clean. 5- I like massages, and will ask for them often. 6- I always get what I want, when I want. An audience doesn’t matter to me. 7- I want to be woken up with orgasms every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, unless instructed otherwise. Prefer blowjobs or handjobs. 8- Weekends off, except for events. 9- Dress comfy, except for events.

And- what? Harry’s eyes widen when he reads rule number seven. Suddenly, he’s not exactly sure what kind of job he’s signed up for.

8) Maple | Mature | 5255 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 30: Louis is crazy about animals, so Harry is determined to get him all the pets he wants even if they are unconventional, like a baby goat. Louis is over the moon when they get to adopt a goat family, but there’s one little problem, and that is the goat not liking Harry…or even letting him get close to Louis. At first it’s all endearing fun and games, but when it starts affecting their sex life and Harry’s dick feeling neglected, he’s determined to try win over the goat so he let him be with Louis. It’s easier said than done - who knew goats could screech that loudly? (Tip: google goat screaming to get an idea how loud.)

9) Just Want You For My Own | Explicit | 5615 words

Taking his phone out of his pocket as he swarms through a small group of students on campus, he looks down to see a text from Niall. The text that reminds him that Niall’s annual pre-holiday break party starts in a few hours. Groaning, Louis slides his phone back into his sweatpants and pulls his beanie down further to cover his ears for the cold walk to his dorm.

10) I Can’t Stop Wanting You, The Way That I Do | Explicit | 6341 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Can I help you find something?” Louis randomly appeared behind him. It made Harry jump, whipping his head in Louis’ direction.

“You scared me!”

“Sorry,” He giggled.

“Bathroom—“ Harry was an idiot, and he couldn’t help but glance down at himself, and assess the situation. Louis caught his eye, glancing down as well. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped a little.

“Uh,” He hesitated, swallowing audibly. “I can help you with that,” he mumbled, pathetically.

“ What? ” Harry questioned, stupidly.

“Sorry. Um. The bathroom. There’s one down this hall,” He pointed in the direction of a door Harry had yet to get to.

11) My Second Chance Part 2 | Mature | 6794 words

Louis wants his and Harry's relationship to become more intimate and wants to try and move on from the past.

12) Tattooed On My Heart | Explicit | 7209 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Intimidating tattoo artist Harry gives sweet Lou his first tattoo. And something more...

13) Heaven Is A Place On Earth | Explicit | 7926 words

Louis is a high-society omega with a sugar-sweet and fiery attitude to match. A mysterious alpha who arrives to help his family with their garden and home repairs seems to be the only one equipped to handle the little omega's personality.

14) If This Room Was Burning | Explicit | 8629 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Where Louis' cat gets stuck on the roof and Harry is the firefighter who ends up saving her.

15) People Fall In Love in Mysterious | Not Rated | 11055 words

Based on a prompt I found on Instagram: instagram.com/p/CTILWE_hyYa/

16) Butterfly Kisses | Explicit | 11832 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Himbo Harry is smitten with stem cell researcher Louis, who only dates smart people.

17) “I Do”. | Not Rated | 12020 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 522: Louis’ friend can’t wait to introduce him to her new beau. She’s been talking about him nonstop and he’s actually a little nervous to meet him. When her boyfriend walks through the door, Louis feels like he’s been hit by a truck. Louis would remember that face anywhere. (Harry preferably, with a bad past relationship with Louis).

18) His Unrequited Love | Mature | 12387 words

An AU in which Harry Styles is badly misunderstood And it takes him five years to realize his mistake and when he does he doesn't expect himself to do it right.

19) Eyelid Of The Sky | Explicit | 13013 words

Maybe he can let the burn settle down. Just until they are somewhere else where their underbellies are only theirs to attack and protect.

20) If Kisses Were Snowflakes | Mature | 13229 words

The Holiday AU. In which Louis decides to trade houses with a total stranger he finds online for the holidays, not knowing he would be finding more than himself in that little town in England, after the original home owner's brother comes barging through the door.

21) No Lemon Drops No Bubblegum | Explicit | 14979 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

They never interacted in that one semester, in that one class, and never were put in the same group, never sat close to each other. Then again, it’s not like Louis was hoping it’ll turn to something more. Just a fleeting crush, that he’ll get over once he stops seeing him every week.

Except he hasn’t stopped, he’s still thinking about it once in a while. What’s Harry Styles doing today? Has he cut his hair? Does he still eat scones for breakfast every Wednesday? He got his answers now, at least about the state of his hair. Harry’s hair is a lot shorter than the last he remembers, it curls around his ear, framing his square jaw nicely. He’d have to ask about the scone next time. If there’s ever a next time.

University AU. In which Louis is most definitely not pining.

22) Kiss Me On This Cold December Night | Teen & Up | 15914 words

This is a disgustingly self-indulgent Christmas fic, basically, the classic Hallmark film trope where character A leaves town and becomes rich and selfish and distances himself from his past has to come back for some reason and spends time with character B, who obviously love the holidays, which leads him to discover the magic of Christmas again.

Only, Harry is not half as horrible, he never cut ties with his best friend from back home, Louis. They still text and call a lot, he’s just more distant and guarded because he’s been in love with the omega since they were kids and it was destroying him to pretend his heart didn’t break every time he had to see him with other people. So he ran as soon as he could and never looked back, not ready to face him again. Until he has to because Louis has called him in tears asking for help and Harry still can’t refuse him anything.

23) Dandelion Heart | Explicit | 17653 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

After his sister’s death, Louis is granted full custody of his 4-year-old nephew, TJ. It isn’t easy, but with the help of TJ’s other uncle, Harry, they learn to make it work.

24) Let's Make Christmas Merry, Baby | Explicit | 19871 words

Harry and Louis have to play Mr. and Mrs. Claus at a frat party and don’t get on, but keep getting stuck under mistletoe until they do.

25) Where I Should Be | Explicit | 20670 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“That’s the difference between you and me,” Louis says. “I loved him. You liked him.”

Harry, far too interested in shattering Louis’ ardent loyalty to Wynn, says, “Such a waste.”

“Who are you to decide?” Louis breathes, craning his neck to glare.

“Who better to decide than me?” He leans imperceptibly closer. Wanting, waiting for him to close the inch of distance.

26) Sweet Revelation, Bitter Wine | Explicit | 20786 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Yeah, well. It’s not my fault I can’t stand the sight of you. This is kind of all your fault," Louis reminds him, his blue eyes flashing.

“Is that right?” Harry provokes him, clicking his teeth annoyingly. “That’s a shame, since you’re the most distractingly pretty demon slayer I’ve ever met.”

They're silent for a beat. He feels Harry’s fingers brushing over his cheekbone tenderly, before he's grasping his chin and tilting his face up properly to look at him.

Harry’s face is close to his now, his handsome features rendering him weak and leaving Louis to blink slowly at him, appreciating the view of a tall, morally ambiguous demon whose full attention is on him.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Louis asks him, voice honeyed and tempting as the fight leaves his body and he goes limp in Harry's grip.

27) Sun Rise In Your Eyes | Explicit | 21878 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 175: AU where Harry is a human prince that Louis, the fairy prince, has always admired from afar. One day, Harry notices Louis and Louis offers him some berries. Harry, forgetting the age old rule that you shouldn’t take food from fairies, eats the snack and is immediately shrunken to Louis’s fairy size and is now subject to live in his world while trying to figure out a way to return to his human form.

28) The Voice Of Rage And Ruin | Explicit | 25470 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

It seemed as if the freshly formed Omega Uprising had always been a step or two ahead of the Commandant and the rest of the reigning Alphanian officials. The idea had been floated that there must be someone working with them from the inside, reporting back to them on the government’s plans so that they could be prepared. That person had yet to be discovered, and the Commandant and his surrounding forces had finally had enough of this game of cat and mouse. Harry understood. He agreed. It needed to come to an end, one way or another.

“Your job is to navigate their landscape and gain entry into their forces. You will pretend to be one of them and gain reliable intel for us. It’s clear that no one else has been capable of doing it, and you at least have some semblance of experience in this field. This has gone on for too long, Harry. Enough is enough.” He made direct eye contact with his son, holding it. “I’m counting on you.”

29) S.W.A.T | Explicit | 30081 words

Louis works undercover.

Harry and Scott are head of SWAT.

A bust goes wrong, Louis is a target and their relationship is on the line.

30) The Road Not Taken | Explicit | 30393 words

The one where Harry returns back home for the holidays after a successful debut album, leaving Louis to unwrap gifts as well as old complicated feelings. Cue: hometown holiday hookups, overbearing siblings, and a disastrous New Year’s Eve party. A 'Tis’ the Damn Season' inspired AU.

31) I Think I'm In Love This Christmas |  Explicit | 36084 words

Home for the holidays and tired of being single, Louis tells his family that he’s dating his childhood friend, Harry (the fact he’s in love with him is irrelevant). Unbeknownst to him, Harry's the handyman who's been helping his parents whilst he's been at uni. So he's left to confront the alpha and ask for his assistance. Pretending to date your best friend is easier than Louis imagined.

32) A Common Place Affliction | Explicit | 36508 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“You should go home,” Louis muses, and Harry can feel the omega crouch down to become eye level with Harry, poking his cheek with a dainty finger. Harry lifts his arm, taking a peek at Louis’ face. Louis looks tired, he notes, but not exhausted, and there’s an eyelash stuck to his cheek. Harry doesn’t hesitate to lazily reach out and thumb over his cheek.

“Can’t,” Harry croaks, blindly twisting his hand around to grab at Louis’ offending finger and just holding it. “C’mere. Take a nap with me,” he asks after a beat, opening an eye to look at Louis.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “M’not going to nap with you in the middle of the ER, H.”

Sighing, Harry squeezes the young nurse’s finger. “Nobody cares.” He knows they do; they’ll annoy nurses and probably worry patients when they catch sight of a nurse and surgeon sleeping on the job. Let alone in the middle of the emergency ward hallway. Harry can hear the complaints now: ‘these are the people we’re supposed to trust with our lives?’

33) Voicemail Sings A Wreck | Explicit | 37019 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is the president of the biggest omega sorority on campus, Harry is the president of the biggest alpha fraternity on campus, and they do not get along.

34) Happier, Prettier | Explicit | 40348 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

They were supposed to hate each other, they were supposed to do their job. At least they got one of these things right.

35) Even If It’s Just Pretend (Say You'll Remember Me) | Explicit | 45446 words

An enemies to lovers AU based on Taylor Swift's wildest dreams.

36) Falling Without Caution | Explicit | 50350 words

Louis Tomlinson, a wanted criminal, was captured by the FBI after years of chasing. Instead of being locked up in a high-security prison, he was offered a deal. What was supposed to be the end of a decade long chase turned into a morally grey circumstance for Agent Styles.

37) Slow Dance In The Dark | Explicit | 52533 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis dances around and Harry takes a leap of faith. Eventually, they fall.

38) The Sun And His Moon | Explicit | 52820 words

Note: Please take note of any trigger warnings and tags.

A royal AU fic where Harry is the Crown Prince of England and Louis despises him. Or does he?

39) Carpe Noctis | Explicit | 57622 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A Regency AU featuring tarnished reputations, religious and political tensions, vampires and hunters, all bearing secrets that lead to moral conflicts.

40) Of Lost Things | Explicit | 57890 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis comes with a familiarity Harry has never felt with anyone else before. After their fateful meeting, their chemistry became undeniable, and soon after, Harry had felt like he hit the jackpot when it came to finding the person he would spend the rest of his life with.

But all relationships come with their own unique problems, and Harry soon realizes that their relationship is no different. When their problems go from unordinary to nearly bizarre in nature, he takes it upon himself to find an answer to their troubles. What he stumbles upon are terrifying coincidences between his and Louis’ story, and the ill-fated mythological couple, Orpheus and Eury. But it’s all they are; just coincidences, ones that feel as frighteningly familiar as Louis.

Except… what if none of this is a coincidence? What if everything Harry has always seen as fiction is true, and myth—or rather, history, is about to repeat itself?

41) Fatal Cues And Stormy Blues | Explicit | 58630 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Centuries ago, the modernization era generated advancements in technology that inspired the ever-sustaining period of coexistence between secondary genders, free of biological constraints. But what happens when a research opportunity forces twenty-four individuals to reconcile with the primal instincts that they’d suppressed for so long?

42) I’ve Got You | Explicit | 62988 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

As a reward for saving the king's life, Harry is offered omega Prince Louis' hand in marriage. Neither of them has any interest in the union going forward, and so they concoct a plan to prove to the king that they are far from a perfect match.

43) Save Your Heart | Explicit | 66293 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry thinks Louis is crazy, but maybe a little sweet too.

And he thinks Louis reads way too many romance novels. Okay, maybe he's also a little cute.

He also thinks that Louis loves the wrong Alpha (because maybe Louis belongs to him, just maybe).

44) In A Twinkling | Explicit | 89204 words

Louis’ Nan just wants him to be happy, to settle down with a nice boy, and bring him around for Christmas.

Louis is too busy with his career to bother about relationships, but in an attempt to appease his Nan, he sends her photoshopped pictures of him and his pretend boyfriend, Harry. The fact that the man in the pictures is none other than Harry Styles, world famous Gucci model—and recurrent star of Louis’ fantasies—is irrelevant. It’s not like their paths will ever cross…

So it comes as somewhat of a surprise when Louis returns home for Christmas and walks into his Nan’s sitting room only to find the real-life Harry Styles happily chatting away with the grey-haired ladies of his Nan’s Crochet Circle.

45) Bless The Day Our Heartbeats Aligned | Explicit | 97454 words

The one where after years of being gone, Knight Harry returns to his best friend only to find out that Louis is betrothed to another.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

The Hardest Part is Letting Go of Your Dreams (One-Shot)

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Work Summary: Pietro's POV for Learn To Love Again Chapter Five: Somnophilia.

Pietro and Reader spend some time at the beach, go to dinner with Wanda and Vision, and then have some drunken fun.

Series Masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6341

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mcximffs @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @lanemarvels

Taglist info.

Notes:

Here's the second one-shot in the Learn to Love Again series. I'm planning on writing one-shots for things that don't fit into the main structure of the story, to fill in the gaps/give different perspectives.

As before, all somnophilia is fully discussed and consensual.

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk sex, (consensual) somnophilia

---

This place was perfect. Pietro had run up and down the coast countless times until he found a stretch of uninhabited, beautiful beach. There was no one for miles; Pietro had checked.

It was so worth it to see the way your face lit up as you took in your surroundings. You were getting better at recovering from the journey when Pietro sped you to places, but you still needed a moment to adjust.

“This is gorgeous,” you said, and Pietro beamed.

The hot sun beat down on both of you, so Pietro set up the towels and umbrella as you stripped down to your swimsuit. It left little to the imagination, and Pietro kind of wanting to tear it off you and ravish you here and now, but the heat had also made him feel lazy, so instead, he settled down on his towel.

He could smell the sun cream you were rubbing into your face and arms and legs. It smelt like summers when his parents were still alive, when the family would pack up the car and drive to see the ocean. When his parents were gone and he and Wanda had been left to fend for themselves, protection from the sun hadn’t really been a concern.

“Will you do my back?” you asked, holding out the bottle.

“Come closer,” he said, not sitting up. Huffing, you shuffled back towards him and leant back so that he could rub it into your exposed back and shoulders.

Your skin was smooth and soft under his fingers, and he relished the way you shivered when he stroked at one spot a little too long.

“Your turn,” you said, taking the sun cream back.

“I don’t need it,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Pietro, you’re like, the whitest person I know. You’ll burn.”

“I don’t burn,” he said, stubbornly.

“Fine,” you said, going over to sit on your own towel. “Guess you don’t want me to rub it into you.”

He looked over at you, but you were steadfastly ignoring him, instead choosing to read your book. He watched as your hands delicately turned the pages, and bit his lip.

“You know…” he started. He didn’t miss the slight upturn of the corner of your mouth. “The sun is pretty hot. I do not want to burn. Can you help me?”

Rolling your eyes, you set your book down and picked up the sun cream again.

“Roll over,” you said.

“Don’t you want to start with my chest?”

“You can do your own chest.”

He pouted at you. “How will I know if I have missed a spot?”

“You’re a big baby,” you said, but you knelt down next to him anyway. Starting from his stomach and working your way up, you rubbed the cream into his skin. He knew that you were secretly enjoying this. Your hands were lingering on his abs for far too long to be accidental.

As you rubbed it into his pecs, stopping briefly over his nipples, he let out a little sigh of pleasure. You made your way up to his neck, and then finally, his face.

“Alright, roll over.”

With a groan, Pietro complied. You rubbed some cream into his lower back, but as you moved upwards, you realised that it would be a lot easier to reach his shoulders if you straddled him, so you did so.

Pietro, who was resting his head on his folded arms, smirked. He loved the feeling of your weight pinning him to the ground. He loved the way your skilled hands smoothed over his skin and rubbed the knots out of his shoulders. He loved feeling the heat of your body pressed against him.

“Can I ask you a question?” Your voice broke through his reverie.

“Hm?” He lifted his head slightly.

“Are there any kinks you want to try with me?” Your words sent a little tingle of pleasure down his spine, and he groaned, dropping his head back down onto his arms.

“Draga mea, you are spoiling me.” It was true. Here you were, sitting on his back, touching him, making him feel good, and saying such pretty little things that went straight to his dick.

“Maybe I want to spoil you.”

Your hands had stilled on his back, so he shifted slightly, and you lifted up to let him roll over. When he was lying on his back, you sat back down, straddling his waist. His hands went straight to your thighs, caressing them gently. You wiped off your excess sun cream on his chest.

“I’m serious,” you said. “We’ve been looking at kinks that I want to try, but I don’t even really know what you’re into.”

In truth, it wasn’t a hard question. The moment you’d mentioned kinks that he wanted to try, his mind had gone back to the night he’d tied you up and the force of your orgasm had been enough to knock out the lights to the entire compound. He’d never felt anything like that before. Your powers had coursed through him, pushing him over an edge that he hadn’t even been close to.

But he couldn’t say that. You’d been so upset that night. So terrified that you had hurt him. He didn’t want to upset you again by bringing it up.

“I am ‘into’ the pretty little noises you make when you cum, prinţesă,” he said instead. He felt you shift your hips, and knew that his words were getting to you.

Still, you didn’t answer. You raised your eyebrows at him expectantly, so he thought about it for a moment.

This morning, he’d awoken to you trying to extricate yourself from his grip to go to the bathroom. He’d been having such a lovely dream. You were lying back on the bed, spread open wide for him, begging for his cock. It was a travesty that he woke up before he got to fuck you.

“I want to wake up with my cock in your mouth,” he said abruptly. It was something he’d thought about sometimes. Waking up would be a lot more pleasant if you were using your pretty mouth to coax him awake.

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” Pietro felt himself turning red. It suddenly felt like too much to ask.

“You don’t have to be shy with me, baby,” you cooed. You leant down and touched your nose to his. “Tell me what you want. The worst I could say is no. I’ll never judge you.”

“I fantasise about it sometimes.” He looked down. “Waking up to you sucking me off. And…”

“And?”

“Sometimes when you’re asleep, I think about going down on you.” There had been times when, half asleep, you had ground up against him, pressing your pussy up against his thigh. What he wanted more than anything was to touch you then, to see if he could make you writhe and moan without inhibitions, but he didn’t know if you were okay with it, so he never did. Just thinking about it was getting him hard. “I want to see how your body unconsciously reacts to my touch.”

“That’s really fucking hot.”

He pulled you down for a kiss, pressing up against you. For a moment, your body pressed down against his crotch and he had to suppress a moan.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes to both. I want to try it all.”

As you ground down against him, he nibbled at your neck. You let out a short, sharp moan that brought him back to himself. He swore.

“Having this conversation now was a bad idea,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to be spending all evening with my mind reader sister, trying not to think about how much I want to bend you over the table.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Oh fuck is right. Maybe we should go for a swim to… cool off?”

“I like the sound of that.”

The two of you got to your feet, and Pietro immediately discarded his swimming trunks.

“Piet,” you squeaked.

“I like to swim naked,” he said. “Feels more free. What’s the matter prinţesă? Are you getting shy on me?” You raised your eyebrows at him, and he shrugged. “You do what you want. Me? I will be naked.”

Without another word, he sped down into the sea. The water was very cold against his skin, and he gasped, but he had always subscribed to the idea that taking a quick plunge and getting it over with was the best method.

He kept running into the ocean, fully submerging himself and then bursting up out of the water. His hair was in his eyes, but as he pushed it back out of his face, he saw you, naked, standing knee deep in the shallows.

He sank down so that only his eyes were visible above the water, giving you a predatory stare. You were very tentatively making your way into the water. He waited until you were waist-deep before he struck.

The Jaws theme song playing in his head, he dipped under the water and then swam over to you with his superspeed. As he threw his arms around your waist, he heard your scream even under the water.

“Piet! You asshole!” you shrieked at him as he resurfaced. “You’re freezing!”

“Want me to warm you up?” he murmured, kissing the side of your neck. You jolted away from the coldness of his lips. “Come on prinţesă. It’s easier if you go all the way in at once.”

“No,” you said, taking another tentative step into deeper water. It was just under your boobs now.

“Suit yourself.” He dove under the water again and swam away. Pietro hadn’t been swimming since he had gotten his powers. He was shocked by how much distance he could cover in mere seconds.

When he resurfaced this time, you seemed very far away. You were turning your head from side to side, looking lost. He realised that you were looking for him. His heart beat a little faster as he swam back over to you.

“Stop running off,” you said, splashing him.

“I’m not running anywhere,” he said with a grin. “I’m swimming.” He splashed you back, and things devolved from there.

Somehow, you ended up on the beach, lying on top of Pietro on his towel. You didn’t care about the sand getting in your hair. It was just you and Pietro, laying together, and there was no one else for miles.

Your hand was wrapped around Pietro’s cock, stroking it lazily. He had his lips on your neck, and was gently cupping one of your breasts. It was a gentle kind of foreplay that Pietro loved.

You knelt up beside him and then bent forward, taking his cock into your mouth. Pietro groaned. The feeling of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around him was unbearably good. You bobbed your head, sucking on his cock, and his hands found their way into your hair.

When one of your hands reached down to play with his balls, he had to use every ounce of strength to avoid bucking up into your mouth.

You knew his body well now. You knew exactly how to make him gasp and moan and tremble.

“I’m close,” he groaned. You sped up your movements, squeezing his hip. His orgasm hit him like electricity and he came hard in your mouth. He stared as you swallowed his cum.

As you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, he looked up at you with a starstruck look of admiration in his eyes.

“Come here,” he said, patting his chest. Following his instructions, you straddled his shoulders and lowered your pussy onto his face.

You tasted like sea water, and something specifically but indescribably you. Pietro loved your taste. Truth be told, he’d stay down here between your legs for hours if you’d let him.

“Mm, Piet,” you moaned. His lips and tongue traced gentle circles all over your pussy. He brought his arms up to hold your thighs in place. They were already shaking a little.

“You taste good,” he said, and then moved to suck on your clit. He loved watching the way the wetness gathered around your pussy. He loved the knowledge that he was the one who made you this wet. That he was the only one who got to touch you and taste you like this.

When the two of you had first started sleeping together, every orgasm you had was dragged out of you, kicking and screaming. You were always so reserved and anxious, and even with all of Pietro’s best efforts, it was still an uphill battle. Now, you were getting better at letting go of your inhibitions every day.

You started to rock your hips, grinding your pussy down onto his face, desperate for more contact. Pietro tightened his grip on your thighs and started vibrating his tongue, laving hard over your clit.

“Piet,” you gasped out, shaking as you came.

Pietro didn’t stop. Still holding you in place, he slowed down his motions, and dipped his tongue inside you. He loved how hot and tight and wet you felt around him.

He wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes, but he only realised he had when he felt your hand gripping his hair. That forced a moan out of him unexpectedly.

“Too much,” you panted, pulling away from him. He released your thighs, letting you collapse down into the sand next to him.

The two of you lay there until the sun started to set, and you knew you had to get back to shower and dress before dinner with Wanda and Vision.

*

Pietro was still not one hundred per cent sold on Vision. Most people said that his relationship with Wanda was cute, if a little odd, but Pietro was fighting every protective instinct that he had to avoid insulting his sister’s boyfriend.

At one time, Wanda had been Pietro’s world, and he had been hers. Now, those worlds were changing. As much as he was her big brother, she’d always been better at talking to people than he had. She’d been better at making friends. Without Wanda, he was lost.

But then there was you. Whenever he was anxious, or lonely, you were there beside him. Even before you’d got together, you’d shown him love and affection that he hadn’t known from anyone but Wanda since he was a child.

Before he joined the Avengers, Pietro loved one living person in the entire world. Now there were two. And counting.

With your help, he was getting better at trusting people. He was letting people in. He was opening himself up to the possibility of friendship. So he was giving Vision a chance. And Vision hadn’t given him a reason to distrust him yet.

Pietro’s hand found yours under the table. Wanda was telling some story about something that had happened during training, but he wasn’t really listening. His eyes were on you.

You were listening to Wanda intently, eyes bright and sparkling with happiness, but hazy from the cocktails you’d been drinking. When you caught him looking, you squeezed his hand, and he squeezed it back.

That was as much physical contact that he’d allow to happen while his sister was in the room. Even though Wanda stayed firmly out of his thoughts whenever you were around, he still didn’t want her stumbling on your earlier activities by accident.

All the alcohol was starting to catch up with him, and he desperately needed to pee.

“I will be right back,” he said, kissing your cheek, and then speeding off in the direction of the bathroom. Or he tried to anyway. He overshot his target and smacked right into a wall.

Dizzy, he looked around, but no one seemed to have noticed. Carefully putting one foot in front of the other, he went to the bathroom.

It was strange for him to go at normal human speed, especially since he wanted to get back to the table and sit down beside you as quickly as possible, but his reaction speed was impaired by the alcohol.

When he stepped back out of the bathroom, he looked over at your table to see Wanda stumbling over her words, looking very red in the face. Even in profile, he could see that your eyes were wide.

Uh oh.

In half a second, he was sat down next to you again, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

“What are you guys talking about?” he asked.

“We were talking about how it’s your turn to buy the drinks,” said Wanda. She was lying, and he knew that. Pietro rolled his eyes playfully, but he was feeling uneasy. You were giggling though, so whatever was happening couldn’t have been that bad.

He sped over to the bar and ordered another round of cocktails. The bartender jumped at his sudden appearance, but the staff at this place had been pre-warned that there were going to be Avengers here tonight, so he wasn’t too fazed.

“I’ll have them brought to the table, sir,” said the bartender as Pietro paid, which Pietro was very grateful for, because he didn’t trust himself to carry a tray of cocktails right now.

In speeding back, he nearly slammed into the table, but managed to catch himself at the last second, falling mostly onto you instead.

“Pietro!”

“Sorry, draga mea,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. You just giggled.

As a waiter set down the tray of cocktails, Pietro turned his attention to Wanda. He raised his eyebrows at her, but she quickly looked away, blushing.

‘What is it?’ he thought as loudly as he could.

‘What is what?’ Wanda responded, still avoiding his eyes.

‘Why are you acting so strange? What happened?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

He tried projecting thoughts back at her, but she ignored him. Sensing futility, Pietro sighed and pulled you a little closer, resting his head on your shoulder.

“You tired?” you asked.

“A little,” he murmured.

“You wanna go home after this round?”

“Mhm.” Pietro didn’t know what had gotten into him. It was probably some combination of the alcohol and lying in the sun earlier, but he was exhausted all of a sudden.

Normally, when you and Pietro would go out somewhere, he would just run you there and back, but since there were four of you, you took the more traditional route of a cab. Vision sat very stiffly, not accustomed to his human form. Wanda leant into him, and Pietro quickly looked away, out of the window.

You took his hand into both of yours and played with his fingers, tracing lines down his palm. There was a warm flutter in his chest as you held his hand up to your face and kissed it.

“I like your hands,” you said, apropos of nothing. He brushed some hair away from your neck with his free hand and laid a soft kiss there.

“Alright, you two, let’s wait until we get home, okay?” Wanda cut in.

You bit your lip, looking embarrassed, but Pietro just buried his face into your neck, pressing kisses to your skin.

“Piet,” you said, laughing.

“You’re disgusting,” said Wanda playfully, rolling her eyes at her brother’s antics.

“At least I’m not sleeping with a toaster,” he said, quiet enough that only you should have been able to hear, but Wanda’s smile faded.

The rest of the journey was quiet. You had barely had a chance to bid Wanda and Vision goodbye before Pietro had scooped you up, and carried you to your bedroom.

He pinned you to the inside of your door, kissing your neck enthusiastically.

“Pietro,” you whined as his hands went straight to your boobs, cupping and squeezing you. You pushed back against him, walking him backwards to the bed, where he flopped down.

You straddled him, kissing him sloppily. The alcohol had wiped away any finesse that you had, but Pietro liked you like this. You were needier than usual, cute little noises falling from your lips every time he ground up against you.

He tugged at your shirt, and you quickly pulled it off over your head. His face pressed directly into your cleavage, nibbling and sucking and kissing at the tops of your boobs and you bounced in his lap, desperate for friction.

“Prinţesă,” he growled, his hands going to the button of your jeans. He undid them and then slid them down just enough so that he could get his hand in your panties. You were already so wet. Pietro was practically salivating.

“Piet,” you moaned, gripping his shoulders. He withdrew his hand, dragging a whine from your throat.

“Take your fucking pants off,” he murmured directly into your ear. He felt the way you shivered against him.

You stood up, first removing your bra, and then stripping off your jeans, panties and socks. Pietro watched you, palming his crotch through his trousers. He didn’t want to miss a second of this.

When you were nude, he removed all of his clothes, retrieved a condom from the bedside table drawer and sat back down on the bed in half a second flat. He opened his arms to you, but you pushed at his shoulders, pressing him back against the mattress.

He handed you the condom, and you ripped open the package, sliding the latex sheath onto him and stroking his cock a few times for good measure. He held you upright as you lined him up against you and then sank down on his cock.

“Fuck,” he gasped. He never got used to how good you felt around him. So hot and tight and wet and all his.

As you started to bounce up and down on his cock, he was struck by how much more vocal you were when you were drunk. Your moans were less restrained, breathing heavily on every thrust.

Like your kisses, the motions of your hips were sloppy too. Even with Pietro’s hands on you, it was hard to keep steady, and the two of you kept devolving into laughter.

Even so, Pietro could feel himself getting close. He kept his left hand on your hip, helping you ride him, but he slipped his right hand between you, rubbing over your clit. You took him hard and deep, angling your hips so that he was hitting your g-spot.

As his thumb started to vibrate against your clit, you let out the loudest moan yet, coming around Pietro’s cock. He thrust his hips up to keep you bouncing through it, but your already tight walls tightening even further with your orgasm was too much for him, and with a gasp, he came.

You slumped against him, resting your forehead against his chest.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmured. You made an incoherent noise. He slid the condom off, tying it and then throwing it in the rough direction of the trashcan.

“That’s gross,” you mumbled into his neck, but his eyelids were too heavy to care.

*

Pietro was having the loveliest dream. He was in a nightclub with you, dancing as you ground your ass against his crotch. People were staring but neither you cared. He had his hands under your shirt, feeling your boobs.

You were moaning so prettily, responding to every touch with exaggerated pleasure.

“Pietro, I need you,” you whined as he kissed your neck.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

You spun around in his arms and, with one hand on his neck, pulled him in for a bruising kiss.

“I love you too,” you gasped into his mouth, and then nibbled on his lips, hard enough to draw blood. He scooped you up into his arms, and then the two of you were naked and alone, and he was pounding into your pussy. “Feels so good,” you whispered. You sounded blissful and fucked up, like you’d already cum several times.

Your pussy clenched hard around him, and he swore in Sokovian.

Dimly, he became aware that he was in your bed, flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. It was dark, and there was a warm, wet pressure enveloping his cock. Blinking, he realised that he was no longer dreaming.

He looked down to see you with your lips wrapped around his cock. A spike of pleasure shot through his lower stomach. With a hazy smile, he cupped your face, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Prinţesă,” he said softly. “You look so pretty like that.”

You hummed, and Pietro felt vibrations in his cock. A moan slipped from his lips and he tipped his head back against the pillow. His hand slid from your face up into your hair, threading his fingers through it and gripping tight. You grinned at him wickedly, before continuing working over his cock.

“I want to fuck your pretty mouth, prinţesă.”

You pulled back for a moment, letting his cock fall out of your mouth. “Then do it,” you said, and then sank your mouth down onto him again.

He tugged on your hair, relishing the way your eyes fell closed. Holding your head in place, he started to thrust his hips up, fucking your mouth. You relaxed your mouth around him, letting him take charge, but your fingernails dug into his hips. The shock of pain that went through him only compounded his arousal.

The sight of you with his cock in your mouth, staring up into his eyes was the hottest thing Pietro had ever seen.

“You’re such a good little slut for me, prinţesă,” he groaned. “Letting me fuck your face like the whore you are.”

You hummed around his cock, and his free hand fisted into the bedsheets. He pulled harder on your hair, holding onto you like a lifeline while he fucked your face.

“Fuck, I’m going to-” His words were cut off by a choked off gasp at the feel of your tongue swirling around the head of his cock. He slumped back against the pillow, thrusting up into your mouth as his cum spilled down your throat.

For a moment, Pietro lay there, blissed out and staring at the ceiling. He was practically panting. As you released his hips, he looked down to see you sitting up, breathing hard.

“How was that?” you asked. You had an impish grin on your face.

“How was that?” asked Pietro in disbelief. “I think I just came harder than I ever have in my life.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He opened his arms to you and you crawled right in, burying your face in his neck. One of his hands cupped your ass. With the other, he skated his fingers over the skin of your stomach, and then, slowly, lower.

“Can I…”

“I’m tired,” you said, soft and content. “Later.” You kissed his neck, leaving a tingling warmth behind you where your lips touched his skin.

“Okay, prinţesă.” He wrapped both arms around you and held you. As you nuzzled into him, he was struck by an overwhelming feeling of love and affection for you. He wanted to do this forever.

The warmth of your body, your breath on his neck, your smell; he wanted all of it, forever. He listened to the sounds of your breathing. Your breaths came in slow and steady.

“Prinţesă?” he said very softly. You didn’t stir. Pietro took a deep breath. “I love you so much, prinţesă.”

He’d never said the words out loud. He held his breath for a long moment, to see if you’d wake. You didn’t.

Satisfied, he wrapped his arms around you a little tighter, and drifted off to sleep.

*

Pietro awoke to the feeling of sunlight on his eyelids. He opened his eyes, scrubbing at his face with his hand.

At some point during the night, you had rolled out of his grip, and you were facing away from him, with your face buried in your pillow.

The sunlight illuminated your bare skin. Very gently, so as not to wake you, Pietro pulled back the covers to take in the full glory of your naked body. He pressed a kiss to the spot where your back became your neck, whispering sweet words there, hoping that they would seep into you and invade your dreams.

As he trailed kisses down your spine, he called you his beautiful angel, his love, his sunshine, his princess, his pretty little whore, switching seamlessly between English and Sokovian.

When he reached your tailbone, he laid a kiss there, and then gently squeezed your ass in his two big hands.

You let out a soft murmur of a moan, and he stopped, waiting to see if you were awake. You didn’t wake, though, you just rolled more onto your side, moving your ass more in his face. Taking this as an unspoken invitation, he bit your ass cheek once but then quickly kissed over the spot that he’d bitten.

When that didn’t rouse you, he put one hand on your hip to guide you onto your back. Now your breasts were fully in view, and he was close enough to your pussy that he could’ve buried his face in it right there, but he held off. After all, he wasn’t in any rush.

Carefully, he made his way back up your body so that he was face to face with you. Your expression was so peaceful that his heart ached. He pressed his lips to your neck to push down that funny feeling in his chest.

Gradually, he kissed his way along your collarbone to your shoulder, then kissed all the way down your arm to your hand. He loved your hands. They always seemed to fit perfectly in his, and were so delicate in comparison. He kissed the back of your hand, your palm, and then the inside of your wrist. Then he started from your collarbone again and repeated the process with the other arm.

Next, he kissed your neck again, cupping one boob in each hand. You made a little noise of pleasure again, but didn’t wake.

He took a nipple into his mouth and sucked on it. At that, you moaned a little louder. Your legs fell open, exposing your wet pussy. Showing a rare patience, he moved to your other nipple and gave it same attention. Your head fell back, your mouth opening, but you were still asleep.

“You’re being so good for me, aren’t you prinţesă?” he whispered into the valley between your breasts. “You’re asleep but you’re still so needy and desperate.”

He kissed his way down your stomach. Your stomach muscles trembled as he moved lower. He laid a kiss to your pubic mound, but then continued on down your leg. Your inner thigh, the side of your knee, your calf, stopping finally at your ankle.

On your other leg, he started from the ankle and worked your way up. As he got closer to your pussy, your hips shifted, legs parting further, inviting him in.

When he finally – finally – positioned himself between your legs, you let out a little whimper. With both hands he spread you open, revealing your glistening wet pussy. You were practically dripping at this point.

“Yes, I know I have been such a tease, haven’t I?” he said softly. “I’ll make it up to you now.”

He flicked his tongue over your clit, and a moan fell from your lips. He liked how unreserved it was, so he licked you again, hoping for the same result. You moaned again.

As if it were a game, Pietro licked your clit, running circles over it and trying to see what noises he could make you make. To his surprise, you came on the fourth lick, your thighs shaking and your pussy clenching. He had never seen you come so fast, and the thought excited him.

He dove back in, licking and sucking at your clit, but then he heard you mumble something.

“What was that, prinţesă?” he asked, pulling back slightly. You whined, and he stifled a laugh. You were so unabashedly needy when you were asleep.

“Fuck me, Piet,” you moaned, your voice heavy and slurry with sleep but your words unmistakable.

Pietro spread your lips again and pressed two fingers into you. Your legs spread wider, and he started to pump his fingers in and out of you, fucking you with them. Your wetness was dripping onto the bedsheets and down his hand now, so he swiped his tongue over you again, cleaning up the excess juices.

With a cut-off, gasping moan, you came for a second time, clenching hard around his fingers and moaning something that sounded like his name.

He pulled back for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. You were still asleep, but barely.

He settled between your thighs again and took up a lazy pace, enjoying the way your hips ground down to meet his every motion.

“Piet,” you moaned, and he looked up. Your eyes were half open now, and you were smiling hazily down at him. You tangled a hand into his hair, and swore loudly.

Encouraged by your hand, he sucked on your clit. You came, your thighs trembling either side of his face.

“Baby,” you whined. He sat back, replacing his tongue with his fingers so that he could speak.

“You came twice while you were sleeping,” he said. “It was actually easier to make you cum when you were asleep.”

Before you could respond, he started eating you out again, and you were writhing under him.

“Piet, I-” Your words died in your throat as he slipped two fingers inside you and started to thrust them in and out. You screwed your eyes shut, biting your lip hard.

“Yes, prinţesă?” asked Pietro teasingly.

“Fuck.” You trembled around him.

He pressed his tongue to your clit and began to vibrate, and this, coupled with his fingers thrusting in and out of you, pushed you over the edge. Pietro didn’t relent even after you came. That is, until you gently pushed his face away, overstimulated and semi-incoherent.

He sat up, a grin spreading across his face, but then he noticed that your face was wet with tears. His heart plummeted.

“What is the matter, prinţesă? Did I do something wrong?” Had he hurt you? Had you not wanted this after all?

“What?” You sat up, and then, with a bemused expression on your face, wiped away your tears. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“A little dehydrated, maybe?” Pietro didn’t hear your playful chuckle, because he was already gone. Brimming with nervous energy, he returned to your side with a cold bottle of water in hand in less than a second. “I was kind of joking, but thank you.” You took the bottle, and gulped down the water gratefully.

“Why are you crying, prinţesă?” asked Pietro nervously.

“I’m not crying.” You reached out to him, and he folded himself into your arms. You carded a hand through his hair soothingly. “You just made me cum four times. I think my body couldn’t handle it.”

“Did you… enjoy yourself?”

“Fuck, Piet, it was incredible. Best way to wake up, hands down.” You giggled, and he nuzzled the side of your face.

“That is good.”

“You have the best ideas.”

There it was again, that warm fluttering in Pietro’s chest. He took the bottle of water from your hands, set it on the bedside table, and then pulled you down so that you were lying side by side.

“My next good idea is to not get out of bed today.” The sudden emotional rollercoaster had tired him. Pietro’s energy levels swung wildly from one extreme to the other.

“You already got out of bed.”

“Fine. To not get out of bed again today,” he said, burying his face into your neck.

You giggled. “Fine by me.”

You manoeuvred yourselves so that he was spooning you, wrapped protectively around your back like a warm, sexy shield. His eyes were closed, and he was on the edge of sleep when you spoke again.

“Is there anything else you wanna try?”

“Hm?”

“You know… Any other kinks?”

Pietro went quiet. He knew exactly what he wanted. He knew that it might upset you. That you’d probably say no. But also that he’d never felt as good as the night of the blackout.

“No,” he said decisively. As you tried to turn to look at him, he rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t outright turning away from you, but he almost was.

“What aren’t you telling me, baby?” you asked. “I promise I won’t judge you, whatever it is.”

“That is not what I’m afraid of,” he sighed. He felt your hand on his cheek, and he didn’t resist as you turned his face, forcing him to look you in the eye.

“What are you afraid of, then?”

“Do you…” He shifted uncomfortably. “Do you remember the night of the blackout?”

“Of course.” The look on your face was dubious, and he was already regretting opening his mouth.

“When you came, you… you…” He reached for words that didn’t make it sound like he was blaming you for something, but none came.

“Lost control and short-circuited the entire building?” To his surprise, you were smiling. That emboldened him to press on.

“I felt the electricity go through me,” he said carefully. “And I… liked it? I came pretty much immediately and I hadn’t even been that close.”

“You want me to use my powers on you?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“… Yes.”

He could see the uncertainty on your face. He watched as you considered it.

“I need to think about it,” you said. “It’s dangerous. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“There is no rush,” he said, kissing your cheek. That was all he needed to hear for now.

[thetorchwoodarchive]

Hi! Would you be able to recommend any fics where the team meets Ianto's family, or they find out about canary wharf?

Thank you!

Home Worlds by SqutternutBosh (JackIanto, GwenRhys, JohnnyRhiannon | complete | 13545 | T)

Episode 4 of my alternate series 3 with full original TW crew!

When an alien ship bursts through the Rift and crash lands down the road from Ianto's sister, all of his carefully kept secrets start to unravel.

Sweetness Follows by ShastaFirecracker (JackIanto | complete | 6341 | G)

After one of the most horrific weeks of her life, Rhiannon refuses to let her brother disappear into his mysterious job again without giving her some real answers - or without introducing her to the man he's in love with.

Swingin' With the Stars by Flamingbluepanda, YourAnnoymousGod (JackIanto | complete | 11840 | G)

Jack and Ianto, a wedding in 12 parts

Family Business (Torchwood the Virtual Series 3, Episode 10) by Misswinterhill (JackIanto, GwenRhys, Ianto&Rhiannon, JohnnyRhiannon | Complete | 34196 | Not Rated)

A party on the Cromwell Estate ends in disaster, bringing Torchwood closer to home than ever before for Ianto Jones. As the team race to stop an unknown toxin from killing again, Ianto learns that some secrets can’t remain hidden forever.

Family Secrets by Copperbadge (JackIanto | complete | 2834 | T)

Ianto and Rhi finally manage to have Words about his new job and his new boyfriend. Predictably, nothing goes as planned.

Where You’re Meant To Be by Morgane (smilla840) (LisaIanto, JackIanto | complete | 3854 | T)

The Battle of Canary Wharf and its aftermath, with a twist. Ianto doesn’t get Lisa out. AU.

A Matter of Choice by thirteeninafez (JackIanto, Gwen&Ianto, Gwen&Martha ~ complete | 27602 | T)

A story about making difficult choices for the people you love, and the forgiveness that somehow has to come thereafter.

On Bad Days and Accidental Meetings by Mia_Zeklos (JackIanto | complete | 2014 | T)

Jack talks about Ianto with a stranger in a bar. As it turns out, things are not as simple as they seem.

Baby Aisle by dracopetal (JackIanto, Rhiannon&Ianto | complete | 1552 | G)

In a rush to get her Christmas shopping done, Rhiannon Davies bumps into her brother and his Captain.

5 Times Jack Met Rhiannon by PinkFairy727 (JackIanto | complete | 3k | T)

In which punches are thrown, a triple date is a very bad idea and Rhiannon gets to wear the coat.

Sibling Rivalry by paycheckgurl (JackIanto, Gwen&Jack&Ianto, Rhiannon&Ianto | complete | 821 | T)

“Ianto,” Jack called across the Hub “what exactly did you do to your sister that she emailed me pictures of you at the height of your goth phase? I mean I’m not complaining, I love the tight trousers but...”

Revelations by badly_knitted (JackIanto | complete | 605 | T)

With Jack’s help, Ianto finally comes clean to Rhiannon about what he really does for a living.

Awkward by badly_knitted (JackIanto | complete | 3156 | G)

Ianto’s enjoyable afternoon with his sister, niece, and nephew takes a turn for the awkward when his family and his job collide.

[ao3feed-bnha-girls]

Snipe Teaches Gun Safety :D

Snipe Teaches Gun Safety :D by NinjaWolfBaby

When Snipe leaves his guns for some upgrades with Power Loader, he leaves some very specific instructions with Mei Hatsume: namely her hands were to far away from his tools.

Mei, of course, cannot resist a baby in her sight and upgrades the guns for Snipe.

Fortunately for her, before she can test fire them, Snipe arrives on the scene. And, while the girl is safe from the metal, she now has to deal with a very angry-- and more importantly, scared-- cowboy.

Words: 6341, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Hatsume Mei, Snipe, Maijima Higari | Power Loader

Additional Tags: Spanking, Non-Consensual Spanking, Corporal Punishment, Belts, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Jargon, Hatsume Mei is a Little Shit, Parental Snipe, Mentor Snipe, Snipe loves his Guns, Mei can't keep her hands off them, Guns, lack of gun safety, Snipe fixes it Don't worry, Mei cant resist a challenge, Mei has Zero Self preservation, Snipe also Fixes that, Snipe is from America, Snipe is a Cowboy, western slang, Probably Misued, Author's favorite work, not gonna lie, Mei Needs a good Spanking, Mei gets one, I love Snipe, Power Loader is Jealous, Half way Custody Battles, Sleepy Cuddles, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Snipe is secretly a mother hen, He just wants Mei to be safe, and maybe scrub behind her ears, Snipe is a great big softy

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41556258