#she deserved a long run and possibly a spin off

[gh-0-stcup]

Idk exactly what went down with Darla in this show (though I do have a vague idea), but I can say they clearly did her wrong.

[igotanidea]

Run baby, run: AK!Jason x reader

part 2 to Somebody's watching me.

She looked so peaceful. So innocent.

And completely oblivious to the fact that the casual outing she went to with her friends was carefully observed by a pair of eyes, hidden under a metal helmet.

Or was she-?

He was like a predator.

Waiting for a single mistake of his prey to take a change and lunge at the opportunity fate presented him with.

Whatever the mistake may be in this case.

But sooner or later she was gonna make one.

Part ways with her friends.

Get drunk and bibulously let some guy touch her.

Dance to the music to the point of exhaustion and end up on the couch in a stranger’s house.

And he would be there to prevent the aftermath of that.

***

For the last week she was going crazy.

Ever since that one night when she saw a silhouette on the rooftop it felt like someone has been following her every move, ever step, lurking in the dark, so close to her and yet, just beyond reach. However, when she tried to tell her friends about they look at her like she was making a joke. So obviously she stopped doing as much as even mentioning it, cause the last thing she wanted was to be abandoned by the only people in her surroundings.

Even if those friends didn’t really deserve the name.

But still – those were the only one she had.

Incomparable with the Waynes she used to spend her time with years ago, before all went to shit. But Jason’s disappearance left an everlasting scar. The only thing she wanted was to forget it all, and yet – the only impossible thing in her life seemed to be letting go of the past. And being in the company of Dick, Tim, Babs and the rest of the clan was making her skin burn and her stomach twist and turn with the incoming, checkless panic attack. Like her entire body and mind felt the pressure of the past on her fragile conscience and damaged soul.

And the only thing she felt like doing in the Manor was either screaming or crying. 

So she moved on, or so she tried to convince herself of.

***

Mistake number one was left her drink unattended when she went to the toilet.

Rookie move with the possible grave consequences.

But it was gone when she came back. Only fueling her paranoia.

Mistake number two was letting her eyes off her companionship and being left alone by the exit with some drunken and already horny guys.

But when with shaky hands she pulled out her phone, desperately searching through her contact list for a potential backup, those men were already dragged into the nearest dark alley and knocked down.

But her worst mistake was not calling the cab and deciding on actually walking home. In her opinion it was a way to get some air and calm her rapidly racing heart, but she freaking forgot it was Gotham.

Like a freaking fool.

Under any other circumstances she would never and the fact that the though of going on foot even crossed her mind was the perfect reflection of her shattered mind spinning like a freaking Ferris wheel.

Something was wrong.

Something was awfully wrong and she felt like she was a main character in some horror movie.

Like that girl, who you watch on the screen, screaming at her to not go to that creepy attic from where the most suspicious sounds come, and then do the exact same thing when faced with a threat.

A ruffle of the leaves. The sound of an empty soda can rolling on the street. The flap of bird’s wing.

It all made her feel like a Freddy Krueger was coming after her.

And maybe she was not so far from the truth.

Her pulse was over the moon, heart running out of her chest, breath quickening, legs starting to move faster and faster and faster as she started running. Not really watching where as long as it was forward and away from whatever imaginary individual was chasing her.

With wild hair, tears in her eyes and blurry vision.

She was so stupid. So fucking stupid and mental, belonging in the mental institution due to her damaged brain refusing to stop dwelling on the past trauma.

“WATCH OUT!”

Before she was hit by a car a strong pair of arms grabbed her by the waist pulling her back to the pavement. She closed her eyes in fear letting whoever her savior was hold her trembling form. As weird as it was, for some reason being in this embrace felt… good. And familiar. Like she belonged there.

And if it was another wave of schizophrenic images coming from her brain she refused to accept it, freezing at the spot and waiting for it to pass.

But the stranger’s seeming grip on her body did not falter. For a longer while that seemed both like an eternity and like a second.

“Y/N….”

It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind.

“Y/N…”

The second the voice hit her ears again she turned around abruptly, but there was no one there.

She was going crazy.

With wide terrified eyes, slowly coming back on earth she finally took in her surroundings.

Realizing, to her undeniable terror, that she was right next to Dick’s house. And even worse – noticing the lights in his windows. Which meant he was here and not in Bludhaven. And not patrolling. Which was an uncommon, if not impossible conjuncture.

The past finally caught up with her.

“Y/N?!” Dick noticed her outside and opened the window, holding back the instinct to just jump outside (from 3rd floor) like an acrobat he was. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you ok?”

“No…” she sobbed “No, I’m not okay…” she finally broke down in the middle of the night, on the empty street.

“Damn!” a few minutes later Grayson was downstairs holding her for dear life. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Whatever happened, you are safe with me now, I promise.”

She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. Crying from fear and stress and helplessness.

“Shhh… come on, let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. I got you.”

When Dick was slowly guiding her to his apartment, the same predatory red eyes were focused on the pair and the sudden need for vengeance sprouts buds, growing roots deep into the long-petrified heart, crushing down the ice it was covered with.

No one was going to take her away from him this time.

Edit:

part 3 : Smooth criminal is up!

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45

[unclewaynemunson]

Eddie can hear from Steve's breathing that he's sleeping deeply and he's wondering how the hell he can possibly be asleep right now. His own mind is spinning and he kinda feels like he might throw up soon. Steve went to sleep with his back to Eddie and now Eddie can do nothing but stare at his silhouette in the dark.

He doesn't really understand what happened: they had this big fight and the word slipped out of his mouth before he even realized it did. The one word he had promised Steve to never say to him. And then Steve stormed out and Eddie just fucking stood there, unable to move and nauseous as hell, tears prickling behind his eyes. By the time his brain started working again and he realized he should probably go look for Steve, he could already have gone anywhere.

Half an agonizing hour later he returned; Eddie didn't give a shit about their stupid fight anymore and tried to apologize, but Steve... wouldn't let him. I know you didn't mean it like that, was all he said. It's okay, but I'm really exhausted, so let's go to bed first and talk about it in the morning.

The worst part is that he doesn't know what he should prepare himself for. Steve has never done anything like this before, but Eddie sure as hell recognizes the signs: waving him off, attempting to make him feel safe, so he'll let his guard down and then it'll all come crashing down on him. He can hear his mother's voice again, so clearly that she might as well be standing right at his bedside:

No, of course I'm not mad at you, Eddie. You couldn't help it, it's not your fault.

Have you already forgotten about what you've done, Eddie? Looks like I have to punish you after all.

The worst one had been after his dad got locked up, five whole years of jailtime ahead of him. He had never been behind bars for more than a couple months on end before. And Eddie had been with him when it happened. No, worse: he had run away.

You couldn't help it, Eddie, you were scared, and you couldn't have gotten him out of it anyway.

He had been grateful for his mom's understanding words, had finally lowered his guard when she even made him a hot cocoa before bed. It only took one restless night of sleep until he'd find out what she really thought about him: a coward, a sissy, someone who didn't know what loyalty was. Didn't he love his father? Would he like to see his own dad rot in jail? She was often cruel with her words, but the times she was cruel with her hands were a rarity.

Eddie had never viewed Steve as being anything like his mother, but with yesterday's events in his mind and Steve unreachable on the other side of the bed, he supposes it's more than justified. However shit will go down tomorrow morning, he will most certainly deserve it.

------

He must've somehow drifted off in the early hours before morning, because he wakes up to light pouring through the windows and - an empty space on Steve's side of the bed.

He quietly slips out from under the blankets and tiptoes to the door, but when he peers around the corner, he finds the living room empty. Upon further inspection, the kitchen and the bathroom both turn out to be abandoned as well. Steve's nowhere to be seen. A new wave of nausea washes over Eddie when he realizes that things must be even worse than he was expecting.

He remembers those times, too: the times when his mother would disappear, sometimes for a couple hours, sometimes for days on end. When he was little, he'd get hungry. As he grew older and learned to take care of himself, he'd only get scared. When she'd finally get back, she'd tell him that he shouldn't be so dramatic, that surely she'd told him where she was off to and for how long she'd be gone. Sometimes, she'd even tell him that no, she hadn't been away for three days, she had only gone to the store, what the hell was he talking about?

When the realization hits him that Steve might never come back - the same realization that used to cause the paralyzing fear whenever his mom disappeared - it becomes difficult to breathe. He staggers and stumbles into the bedroom, where he starts randomly pulling the doors of their closets and dresser drawers open in a desperate attempt to see if all of Steve's clothes are still there. His polos are hanging in a neat row in the closet, and his underwear dresser is filled just fine. His toothbrush is still in the bathroom, just like his shaving cream and his medication: that should be enough confirmation that at least he'll come back but maybe that's exactly what he wants Eddie to think and he can't breathe anymore and -

-------

A good night's sleep and a morning run are the perfect cure for just about everything, if you ask Steve. He comes home all sweaty and short of breath, but feeling better than he has in days. His head is clear and yesterday's fight suddenly seems almost insignificant. He opens the door, ready to make some coffee and finally properly talk with Eddie, who was still fast asleep when he left the house two hours ago.

But when he calls out a "Hi, babe!" the apartment stays eerily quiet. There's no trace of Eddie in the kitchen, nor in the living room, and Steve wonders if maybe he has gone out to get some snacks. He shrugs and walks into the bedroom to take off his sweaty sports clothes - and chuckles quietly to himself when he sees the mop of dark curls above the blanket.

'Eddie, it's almost noon, man,' he says while walking up to the bed. It's only then that he notices that all their drawers and closets are opened, as if Eddie had been frantically searching for something.

'Have you been sleepwalking again?'

He goes to sit down on the bed, right next to the lump of the blanket that is Eddie's sleeping body. When Eddie still doesn't move, Steve gently combs a hand over the curls and then pulls back the blanket.

'Hey there.'

He traces a thumb over Eddie's cheek, which finally causes him to jolt up. Steve immediately clocks that there's a look on his face that can only be described as concerning: something frantic and fearful is radiating from those big brown eyes he knows so well.

'You came back,' Eddie sighs out when he sees it's Steve who woke him.

Steve frowns. 'Of course I came back. Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?'

'How long were you -'

There are tears in Eddie's eyes now, and he looks more scared than Steve has seen him look in years.

'Oh, baby, it's okay, I'm here,' he says, opening his arms to catch Eddie in an embrace. 'I was only gone on a run. Yesterday was pretty intense, remember? So I wanted to clear my head while you were sleeping in. I've only been away for two hours or so.'

Eddie slumps heavily against Steve's chest; his whole body is trembling like a leaf.

'What happened, baby?'

'What day is it?'

'Jesus, Eddie, you're scaring me. It's Saturday.'

Eddie lifts up his head; his cheeks are red and puffy and wet.

'Saturday?' Eddie repeats, voice sharp and frantic again. 'Is that true? Are you telling the truth?'

'Yes, what's going on, Eddie? Why would I - oh.' He doesn't need to finish that question to understand exactly what's happening, and he quietly curses himself for being so blind to it. 'Oh, fuck, Eddie, I didn't mean to - I'm so sorry.'

Not giving a shit about his sweaty sports clothes, he pushes Eddie a little bit to make space and crawls under the blanket beside him. He pulls him in his arms, cradling his head with his hand, and keeps repeating sweet-nothings like I'm here and I'm not going anywhere and I love you and I'm sorry for scaring you until Eddie has finally stopped trembling and his breathing is back to normal again.

'You're here,' Eddie finally says. His voice is creaky in a way that's breaking Steve's heart.

Steve leans forward to press a kiss against his temple.

'I'm here,' he repeats. 'And I promise you I would never do anything like the shit your mother used to pull, alright?'

'Watch out with that,' Eddie says. 'I also promised to never call you bullshit.'

Steve utters a sound that's somewhere between a sniff and a huff. 'Was that - a joke? Did you seriously just go from full breakdown to cracking jokes?'

Eddie hums something unintelligible and lets his eyes fall close while he nestles himself into a more comfortable position in Steve's arms.

'Why did you think I would ever do something like your mom?' Steve's question is almost a whisper.

Eddie sighs deeply. 'Because yesterday,' he says, burying his head against Steve's chest. 'It was too easy. You should've been mad, but you forgave me right away. And then you went to sleep with your back towards me and I - I had the whole night to spiral further about it. And then I woke up and you weren't there and - I dunno, my head was running wild, man.'

Too easy. That's exactly what it feels like, sometimes, with Eddie. To hear him say bullshit and know he doesn't do it to intentionally hurt him. To have a fight and know that they still love each other through it all. To come home in the apartment they share and have coffee together every day. It's too easy, too good to be true. Not something either of them ever thought they could have with someone. But they do. Even if they both take their damaged hearts with them. Even if they've both been raised on cruelty instead of love. Maybe it's not too easy after all; maybe they simply need to learn the difference between easy and too easy. Maybe easy is exactly what they deserve to share with each other.

Steve brushes some stray hairs out of Eddie's face. His cheeks are still swollen and his eyes are red. And it's never been easier to love him.

[wreckedandpolemic]

she's got a boyfriend anyway - matty healy

part iv - got him on the phone

(mdni) the obligatory call me when you're bored fic, alternatively titled does he take care of you?

Michael is grunting on top of you, sweaty and panting. Your eyes are screwed tightly shut as you moan fakely, dead still except for the mattress bouncing in time with his weak thrusts. You slide a hand between your legs and circle your clit, gasping when you finally get a burst of pleasure. Then, Michael pulls your hand away.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, baby,” he insists, and you swallow a disappointed groan. He has this complex about making you come all by himself, as if he’s less of a man if you play with your clit a little. Just a few more days, you tell yourself. Then he’ll go home and you can break up from a safe distance.

Your fabricated moans come out robotically, your hips rocking in an attempt to feel any real pleasure. Matty would never fuck you like this; Matty knows how to make you come, and, crucially, he likes it. You imagine him on top of you instead, fucking you into the mattress; his hips meeting yours in that sweetly desperate way; his calloused fingers playing with your clit, making you squirm with pleasure. His name springs to your lips, and you bite down hard to keep it from escaping.

“Are you close, baby?” Michael moans in your ear, snapping you back to the present moment.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice thick and breathy and utterly fake. He brings a hand down to your cunt and you wonder if this will be the time he finally gets it right, the barest brush over your clit hitching your breath. Then he drags it further down, rubbing futilely at your folds, and you resign yourself back to your artificial whining.

Minutes later, your performed orgasm already faded to the back of your mind, Michael rolls off you and throws away the condom. A shudder runs through you as you remember letting Matty fuck you raw, how all-consuming your need for him was that night, that you’ve longed for him every time Michael has put his hands on you in the days since. You burrow back into your sheets, squeezing your eyes shut against the stab of guilt as Michael speaks. 

“Gonna run to Tesco and grab some bits. You need anything?” he asks, smiling that sweet, gentle smile that makes you remember why you fell for him in the first place. God, you’re going to Hell.

You shake your head, blinking sleepily up at him. “No, thanks. You know where you’re going?” you ask, praying he won’t ask you to come with him. He hasn’t noticed, yet, that you’ve been avoiding him as much as physically possible in your two-bedroom house, always engrossed in your phone, or with your nose in a book, or dragging him to meet your friends. If you’re forced to sit with the weight of your sins for too long, you know your house of cards is going to come tumbling down.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your temple that aches in your chest. You don’t deserve him, his kindness, his care; your heart is callous, traitorous. Worst of all, even now, it yearns for Matty. The door clicks shut as you grapple with your scruples, your moral compass spinning out of control. It’s almost like your guilt is tethered to him, fading to a faint hum and then falling completely silent when your front door swings closed.

There’s a buzzing under your skin, your body pleading pathetically for the pleasure it was denied, your organs a knotted mess of desire and shame. You can’t keep up the pretence of righteousness for long, can't lie to yourself the way you lie to Michael. Your hands are sure and steady as you dial Matty’s number.

“Hello?” He sounds bleary, sleep-addled. It’s 12pm; practically sunup for him. Closing your eyes, you can almost cast yourself curled up in bed with him, his body warm against yours, his lips soft at your neck.

“Hi,” you begin, biting your lip. “I was just thinking about you…” You trail off, waiting for Matty to pick up his cue. This time, you aren’t going to let him force you into the role of the temptress — you called, the sin is already committed. You just have to let him run with it.

Something rustles on the other end of the line, probably him shuffling around in bed. “Is that so?” he says, and you can practically hear his teasing grin.

“Hard not to, when it’s the only way I can get wet for him.” 

“Did you come?” he asks, and you snort. As fucking if. The reminder that Michael has never once made you come, never once asked how to make you feel good, assuages some of your guilt.

“Got bored about halfway through, started thrashing and wailing like a crazy person so he’d get it over with.” You roll your eyes and Matty cackles.

“You want me to come over? Get you there properly?” he asks, and it’s oh-so-tempting, but ultimately not worth the risk. Michael isn’t going to be gone that long, and getting caught would be… less than ideal.

You sigh, rolling onto your back. “Nah. Not a good idea, probably.”

He snorts. “Never stopped us before,” he says, his smirk practically audible.

“Do you wanna help me get off or not?” you snap, but there’s no heat in your words. A deep sigh slips from your lips and you brush your fingers down your body, resting your hand against your lower belly, desperately close to where you need it.

You hear a zipper slide down and stifle a laugh; you can picture him flawlessly, passed out in last night’s clothes, face pressed against the pillow, digging sleep-marks into his face. “Whatever you want, princess,” he murmurs. “How do you feel?”

“Needy,” you whine, pouting at your phone. “Wanna touch,” you add, desire pulsing thickly under your skin.

Matty’s answering chuckle is soft, indulgent. “Go on, angel. Do it just like you showed me.” You obey, heat flooding your body as images of that night swim in your vision, Matty’s gaze heavy on you as his cock disappears into his fist, his tongue skilled and sure between your thighs.

A whine slips from your lips as you rub slow circles into your clit, your phone thudding on your pillow as you pinch your nipple with your other hand. Matty groans, the slick sound of his hand working over his cock tinny over the speaker. “Fuck, want you so bad,” you breathe, heat smouldering between your legs. “Need you,” you choke out, hips grinding down against your hand.

“I’m there,” he answers. “I’m right there with you, princess. Tell me what you need.” His voice is low, weaved through with desire, his words punctuated with his familiar, soft moans.

You dip a finger inside yourself, the faint stretch heavenly between your thighs. “Need you to fuck me,” you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head as you imagine it; your fingers become his, rough and calloused and fucking into you exactly how you want. “Want your cock, Matty, wan’ it s’bad, please.” Your words come out slurred through the haze of pleasure enveloping you, Matty’s rhythmic groans dragging you higher.

“Begging so pretty for me,” he coos. “Miss that pretty cunt so bad, darling. Wanna get my mouth on you again, feel you cumming around my tongue. Miss your taste, princess.”

Thighs clenching, you whimper, the phantasm of his tongue delving between your thighs and lapping at you skilfully as you writhe under the tide of heat that rolls over you. “Want you to fuck me stupid,” you breathe. “Wanna forget everything except you,” you gasp, the admission falling unbidden from your lips, the truth in your words frantic and inescapable.

Matty chokes on a breath, groaning on the exhale. “Fuck, darling, you’re making it so hard not to come over there and fuck your lights out. Need to feel you coming on my cock so fucking bad.”

Reckless desire swirls through you, the protestations of your rational brain muted and fading against the flames licking their way up your body. You’re lost in it, the devil himself kissing at your thighs as you sin and sin and sin. “So come.”

His breathing hitches. “Are you being serious?” he asks, and you hear his hand still as he turns your words over in his mind.

“Yeah. Fuck it. Fuck all of them.” The words come easily, not weighted by some arbitrarily ascribed idea of morality; the truth you can’t delude yourself over any longer.

“God, angel,” he murmurs, voice trembling, thick with an emotion you couldn’t have named before today — one you have to bite back so it doesn’t spill from your lips at this inopportune moment. “So fucking perfect. You feeling good?”

“So good, Matty, fuck,” you say, fucking yourself on your fingers in a sweet, glorious rhythm. “Wish you were touching me,” you whine, hips rolling against your hand as Matty resumes his own motions. “Wanna suck your dick. Want you to make me choke on it.”

His answering moan is obscene, half your name and half a garbled noise of pure desire. “Such a good little slut for me. Want me to fuck your mouth, yeah?” You whine desperately. “God, you’d look so gorgeous like that, all pretty on your knees and drooling for me. Thought about that for so fucking long, princess.”

Your cunt clenches around your fingers, your head so hazy with bliss that you can barely force out the words, “Want you.”

Matty laughs fondly. “Then cum for me, darling. Cum for me and I’ll come over there and give you what you need, I promise,” he swears, voice gravelly through his moans.

“‘M close, ‘m so close, wanna cum for you, Matty, please, fuck,” you babble, incoherent and dazed as ecstasy pools in your belly, buzzing gorgeously through your limbs. The flimsy thread tying you to your sanity suddenly snaps, your stomach lurching as you’re plunged into bone-deep pleasure. A string of obscenities falls from your lips, twined around sticky moans and near-pained whines, your flesh melting off your bones, glueing you in place as euphoria rolls achingly over you.

Matty groans your name as he cums, the picture of him spilling into his fist vivid and rapturous behind your eyelids. You lay in silence for a few moments, letting the aftershocks subsite. “I meant it,” Matty says, cutting through the quiet with uncharacteristic seriousness.

“Me too,” you say instantly. There isn’t even the barest shadow of doubt in your mind. You hardly remember that Michael exists, let alone why you should care. “I want you, Matty. For real. I think…” you bite back the confession, too raw to give through your sketchy connection. “I think you should come over here and let me have you,” you breathe, low and teasing.

The grin in his voice is audible. “Don’t move, princess,” he orders. “Don’t even get dressed. I want you to keep playing with yourself, okay, darling? Keep yourself all pretty and wet for me, yeah?”

Your thighs clench, fire licking at you, stoked by his words. You’re ruined, have been since you set foot back in this town. Matty is the snake, his mouth the poisoned fruit, the temptation luring you into damnation. But as the flames kiss at your skin, you wonder if getting there might just be worth the price. “Yeah, okay,” you murmur, sucking in a sharp breath as your finger brushes over your sensitive clit, your hand coming up soaked with desire. “Hurry.”

“Darling, the devil himself couldn’t keep me away.”

You wonder if it’s a sign that the devil is wandering the plains of his thoughts too. But you’ve never been one for omens, so you let the quiet creep of bliss take over, the buzzing in your brain drowning out the beep of the dial tone. Anticipation creeps up your spine, slow and teasing.

Then, there’s a knock at your front door.

Shit.

[redjayson]

oh boy, now that chapter 17 is posted I can talk about some of the extras that I want to write in full at some point! since that’s rather far off in the future (and probably a lot of work when second-hand alibis still has its own Incredible Amount of Work left), have some quick and dirty snippets/ideas of what they might look like.

first one is a "su xiyan lives" spin-off:

exactly what it says on the tin. shen yuan makes a deal with the system (which would have to be somewhat less strict in this scenario) or he gets his hands on a macguffin or something and manages to make it to the luo river in time to help su xiyan through luo binghe’s birth and save her life afterwards

that, then, leaves them both desperately injured with a (somewhat unhappy) baby in the middle of winter when huan hua is undoubtably searching for them and their only allies probably think shen yuan and su xiyan betrayed them

shen yuan has the bright idea to lead them down the river to the washerwoman who was luo binghe’s adopted mother in proud immortal demon way. she’s kind enough to take them in, softened immensely by the baby and by how injured and grief-stricken shen yuan and su xiyan are

shen yuan and su xiyan slap up every (subtle) barrier and disguise and warding talisman that they can possibly think of to help hide them from any huan hua searchers, before collapsing from the expenditure of energy. shen yuan possibly uses his altered-but-no-longer-untested body-stasis talisman on su xiyan, who is predictably Not Amused by the recklessness of shen yuan having used this on himself, but it gives them more time to handle the poison while also allowing su xiyan’s qi to replenish itself and hold off the effects of the poison trying to kill her while they find an actual cure for it (assuming shen yuan's macguffin/system deal wasn't enough)

they both heal. they help around the house as much as possible, and gift the washerwoman with as much money as she’ll take from them, which is far less than she deserves for all the kindness she’s showing them. eventually, they’re healed enough to begin moving again, and they judge that it’s likely too dangerous to stay this close to huan hua any longer. 

before they go, though, there’s the matter of tianlang-jun. they debate for days—is it too dangerous to try and check on him? do they think zhuzhi-lang was sealed as well? what happens if they’re captured by huan hua? what will happen to binghe? (yes, luo binghe ended up with the same name as canon. shen yuan only suggested the “binghe” portion of the name, but su xiyan came up with and ran with the “luo” portion of it, because it’s far too conspicuous for a child to be running around with her surname, isn’t it? shen yuan, twin brother of shen qingqiu, keeps his mouth shut.)

in the end, they decide that they’ll take their chances now, while there’s still enough chaos and confusion from the end of the battle + setting up how the guard on tianlang-jun is going to look long-term for them to get close. better yet, if they can find zhuzhi-lang, then they won’t even have to get all the way to bailu mountain. 

whatever happens, it ends up being a bit of a mess. zhuzhi-lang is not happy, but shen yuan has spent years being one of his favorite people, and both he and su xiyan are still moving pretty gingerly when they manage to find him. in the end, zhuzhi-lang believes what they tell him about the betrayals committed against them, too, and agrees to carry the news to tianlang-jun (and plead their case, should he prove unwilling to listen).

after that…su xiyan and shen yuan beat feet out of huan hua territory, taking binghe (and possibly the washerwoman!) with them to live a life as rogue cultivators. cue years of sneaking back into bailu forest to visit zhuzhi-lang and tianlang-jun and try to figure out the best way to help tianlang-jun escape. shen yuan helps zhuzhi-lang get ahold of some sun and moon dew mushrooms, but warns that unless they experiment wildly and are also exceedingly lucky, the mushroom body will fail pretty quickly with a demon inhabitant instead of a human one. 

I imagine that this au would either end up as a su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan throuple, or zhuzhi-lang might finally shoot his shot with shen yuan and actually get somewhere with it. I lean toward su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan, just because there’s only so many times you can pretend to be married with a child, spending literal years working toward a common goal and in close proximity and with shared fondness, before you fall into an actual relationship. tianlang-jun is on board with this when it’s explained to him—shen yuan is great! (the wife-beam strikes again, it just took a little bit longer with tianlang-jun because he was so focussed on su xiyan)

also it’s deeply funny to imagine shen yuan reuniting with shen jiu (+ yue qingyuan) and cang qiong mountain sect and boldly gesturing toward binghe and declaring, “this is my son.” yeah, this carbon copy of su xiyan, with eyes that are notably not hers or shen yuan’s? suuure. the other peak lords aren’t going to argue, though, because shen qingqiu looks way too willing to fight them (read: yell at them) about it, and that’s almost never worth it. plus, like, what do they care? 

shen qingqiu, notably, doesn’t believe that luo binghe is shen yuan’s biological son, but apparently he is shen yuan’s adopted son (son by marriage?), so it’s really all the same thing. he’s doing some math about the tianlang-jun situation (as is yue qingyuan) and not liking the answers that he’s come up with, but if shen yuan wants to keep the child, then let him. better to allow a half-demon on his mountain than to lose his brother again. 

shang qinghua is losing his shit in the background. you did what with my protagonist’s parents?! my cabbages plot!!!

[ithebookhoarder]

Hey! I love your writing🥹 If you’re taking requests, please could I get your take on: female reader & Javi P are in a relationship. She finds out she’s pregnant a couple of weeks before a huge raid and hides it from everyone. During the raid she gets cornered by one of Pablo’s men and screams “I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant” Javi’s hears over the radio, his head snaps up and he takes off running to find her, Steve not far behind. + the aftermath once they get back to the embassy. Thank you ❤️

Crossroads (Javier Peña x AFAB!Reader)

A/n: MY HEART 💔  Thank you to whoever sent this gem in! I promise I’m also working on all the other requests in my inbox. I have them all started as drafts, but I get random bursts of inspiration for one at a time and then this happens. I’m so sorry for those of you patiently waiting - I will get to finishing them. Soon. This one just popped in my inbox and ran away with me... oops?

Warnings: Swearing, violence, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of possible termination of pregnancy, injury, references to drugs and the cartel. 

Masterlist

You didn’t know why you hadn’t told Javi. It seemed strange now, to think that you hadn’t told the one person who deserved the most to know. 

Maybe it was denial? Fear? Fear that he’d react badly? Fear he’d react with excitement? 

You couldn’t be sure, but why you hadn’t told him didn’t matter now so much as the fact itself. You hadn’t told Javi you were pregnant, and now it was too late. 

Now, you were stood inside a crappy warehouse, alone, waiting on a contact to confirm intelligence for a raid you had planned for later that night. Sure, you could tell him tonight once this whole mess was over with, but that was dependant on both of you getting out of this operation unscathed - and whilst you were both great agents, you’d learned long ago never to under-estimate the prey you hunted. 

Escobar and his network were intelligent, well connected, and somehow always one step ahead. It was why you relied so heavily on contacts such as the one you were meeting right now.

Only eighteen, Sophia was the daughter of one of Escobar’s runners and desperate to get herself and her family away from the cartel.

She had approached you some weeks ago, begging and pleading for your help fleeing the country. In exchange she had offered the one thing of value she had - intel. Positioned close enough to the organisation to gather information, Sophia was also removed enough not to attract attention or suspicion. Hell, she said none of Escobar’s men even acknowledged her existence unless they wanted a drink, a smoke, or to paw at something during their visits. 

It seemed like a perfect opportunity for everyone involved. Or, it had, should you say… now, staring at your watch as the minutes ticked by with no sign of the young girl, you began to suspect something was wrong. 

God damn it. 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to fight the urge to radio out to the surveillance van positioned further down the street. There was no need to get them worked up yet, not when Sophia could just be running late… the last thing you needed was Javi or Steve getting antsy and pulling you out, blowing your cover and fucking up the raid you had planned for later tonight. 

No, those two had always been protective over you, long before you and Javi had started seeing each other romantically. It was frustrating, even if a little flattering at the same time, to know you had two such loyal friends and partners. 

They never held the fact that you were a woman against you, but then again they’d never had cause to. Now? Now you were a walking stereotype. A liability. A pregnant woman carrying her partner’s child whilst trying to run ops in the middle of a war zone… They’d pull you out of the field so fast it would make your head spin - something you had worked too hard to risk. Not until you were certain… certain it was what you wanted, hence your decision to keep things quiet for now. 

In fact, the only person who was aware that something was different about you was Connie, and that was because you had needed her help to confirm it. 

What with her job at the clinic, and being Steve’s wife, Connie was the best option when it came to confirming your fears, rather than trying to risk a visit to a local doctor - one who was likely to talk to whoever would ask, no matter whether it was one of Escobar’s men, or even someone who could feed it back to the embassy. 

No. Connie was your only choice, being both discreet and loyal to a fault - something you had never been more grateful for than now.  That, and she was your closest friend outside of the office. There was no one else you wanted more to be holding your hand whilst you waited to find out if this was actually happening. 

She had also been more than willing to talk you through your options afterwards, promising to honour your wishes no matter what you decided - even if she kept trying to convince you to tell Javi. 

"He deserves to know," she'd sighed softly, holding your hand and wiping away your tears. "He's kind and he loves you. All he'd want is to support you. You know that."

If only you could be so sure of that.

Javi? A baby? The two things didn't seem compatible, even if he did have a soft spot for Olivia, but she wasn't his... a biological child that was yours to raise, protect, and nurture... it was a whole other situation - and given that Javi thought coffee was a food group, a situation you weren't sure he was ready for yet.

Hell, you weren't even sure you were ready for this yet, which was probably why you hadn’t made any decision other than to just carry on working like nothing was wrong until such a time as the answer came to you... if it came to you... or perhaps the universe would answer it for you... 

Why else would you be risking your neck here in this warehouse, late at night, distracting yourself and delaying the inevitable moment where you’d be forced to chose?

After all, inaction was still action in this kind of situation. You knew you couldn't keep putting off the conversation forever, but that didn't make it any easier to know what to say or do in this situation.  

Thankfully, that was the moment you were startled from your spiralling thoughts as footsteps echoed across the room. 

You recognised the sound as someone came in, closing the squeaking rusted door you’d already entered through. 

“Sophia?”

You watched as the girl crept from the darkness, nervously tugging at her sleeves. 

You paused.  

As timid as Sophia had seemed previously when you met one another, you still felt something was off as she moved towards you. It was like the energy rolling off of her was wrong... sending shivers running down your spine as you felt your fingers twitch towards the gun sat at your side. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, over here,” you called, “I was starting to think you weren't going to show.” 

It was like watching a rabbit, twitching, with wide eyes, like she was about to bolt at the first sound. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry? What for?” you asked. “It’s ok. You could have called to say you were going to be late but-” 

Then you heard it. 

The click as the gun was cocked behind you. 

Without even turning you knew you had been betrayed. 

“Sophia,” you sighed, trying not to let the fury show on your face as you stared at the sobbing girl in front of you. After all, you couldn’t really blame her had you been in her situation. You should have expected it, actually. The call had been far too easy and the information too tantalising for the DEA to pass up. 

Still, that didn’t change the fact you were now here… stuck… held at gun point by the two men who had entered the room when you weren’t looking. 

Shit. 

You really had been distracted tonight and now you were paying the price for your mistakes. 

“I’m sorry.”

The apology was barely audible through the girl’s tears. 

“Me too, kid. Me too.” 

You watched as one of the men kept his gun trained on you, whilst the other marched over to Sophia and shoved the wad of cash into her hand before pushing her out the door in a clear message to beat it. They had what they wanted, as did Sophia - she had her life and her freedom, for now. 

Who knew how long it would actually last... 

Hell, who knew how long you’d last given this sudden change of events? 

The door had barely shut behind her when the man who’d given her the cash turned back towards you. 

“So, you’re the one who’s been snooping around? Trying to get our girl to talk?” he teased, his tone cold and mocking. “Don’t you know what happens to little girls who stick their noses in places it don’t belong?”  

The threat was clear as he grinned, his friend walking around you so that you could see the gun held in his hand, pointing directly at you. 

Your own gun was snatched from its position at your side, tucked instead into the man's jeans for safe keeping.

“Well, lucky for you, the boss wants to know what you know, and where you got that intel from,” your captor continued, his tone oozing with a sick satisfaction. “If you tried to make a rat out of Sophia, who knows who else you’ve got squeaking away in your gringo ear. So, you see, we can’t just kill you, else I’d be pulling this trigger right here and now… but when we’re through with you, you’ll wish I had.” 

You couldn't help it. You flinched as the man nearest you stepped closer, gesturing towards the door with his gun in an obvious signal. 

“Move,” he hissed. “Now.” 

Shit. 

You take a deep breath, trying to remind yourself that you weren’t alone. That your comms were still in place, and that there were still men positioned outside the warehouse. The moment you emerged, with two men holding you at gun point they would be surrounded. 

But would that be before or after they had the chance to pull the trigger and plant a bullet in the back of your skull? 

You’d seen enough of these hostage situations to know how they went down, to know that the hostage didn’t always make it out… the directive was to remove the sicarios - they were the priority. 

Not you. 

It was that thought that made your stomach roll as you began to move, legs shaking so hard you weren’t sure you could stand. 

"Where are we going?” you stammered, you mouth so dry you can hardly form the words. 

“Shut up, bitch," the thug sneered, shoving you forward. You could practically taste his contempt. “Keep walking unless you want me to shoot you in the leg and drag you myself.”  

You knew he’d do it too. He seemed the type to be cruel - to get off on inflicting pain and exercising what tiny slither of power he had. 

However, you also knew that letting these guys move you to a second location was as good as a death sentence. 

No, this was it. 

You had to make your final stand here and now if you even wanted a chance of making it out of this in one piece. 

It was for that reason you said a silent prayer before clenching your fists. Two on one… it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst odds either. You just had to be smart. After all, they needed you alive for now - they’d foolishly revealed that much. 

You could work with that. 

"You do realise that waiting outside those doors is a whole bunch of DEA agents, right?" you jabbed. "You walk outside with that gun pointed at me and you're dead."

"Shut up, bitch," the man with the gun snapped back sharply. "You think we're gonna fall for that? Nice try. Now, get moving."

"Hey, it's your funeral."

"I said shut up-"

"Dude, maybe we should go out the other way," his colleague interjected, the hesitation exactly what you'd been hoping for. "We can get the van round out the back, off the road and out of sight of any police."

"No."

You took the distraction as your cue.

The moment you felt the gun drop from your back you were on them, throwing the weapon upwards and sending the resulting shot up into the ceiling.

Your foot was next, smashing up between the man’s legs in a well rehearsed manoeuvre, followed by your elbow slamming into the other man's face, stopping him before he could reach for you.

The few precious seconds you'd bought yourself were all you needed to make a run for it, bolting back towards the doors up ahead.

Your fingers reached up, squeezing the switch on the side of the mic you had taped under your collar, ready to call for back up. 

But you never got the chance. 

Your fingers had just grazed the switch when you felt something collide with you from behind. A great weight that sent you crashing down onto the ground, hard. 

You tried to roll over, only to be met with a fist slamming into your face, too fast for you to even try and block him. 

The ferocious assault caused your head to bounce off of the concrete with a sickening thud. Pain exploded, your eyes filling with tears, and your vision blurred as the shock of the impact resonated, unleashing agony that pulsed through your skull. 

A silent cry escaped your lips, full of shock and pain. 

Shit.

Your assailant jumped off of you, following through with a swift, vicious kick to your ribs, knocking all the air from your lungs with the force of the blow. 

Scrunching your eyes tightly, you tried to fight the nausea and pain, to fight for a precious breath. 

“Stop,” you begged, hating how weak you sounded. However, something inside you roared, an urge to fight taking over you - but not just for yourself, but for the future that was growing inside of you... a future you hadn’t been sure of until right now…

Now, as you stood to lose it. 

It suddenly didn’t matter if Javi wanted this baby or not, or if he would be happy or terrified or disappointed. What mattered was that he would never get the chance to be any of those things, to decide for himself, to have the opportunity to choose what life he wanted. 

He needed to know… you couldn’t die here, without him knowing… 

“Stop, please!" you pleaded. "I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant!” 

Without even thinking, you curled your legs in tight, huddling into a ball and trying to block your stomach before he could land the next blow. 

However, it never came.

“Hold on!” your assailant’s partner scolded. "Not here. The boss wants her alive for now.” 

He paused. "The bitch deserves it!"

Then you heard it - the door slamming open. The thundering of boots running across concrete towards you. Orders barked in Spanish. 

You watched as your assailants silently gaped in horror, raising their hands above their heads as they were suddenly surrounded by figures... 

Why was it so hard, all of a sudden, to make things out?

It was hard to distinguish one sound from another, to see anything beyond colours and shapes as your world began to dissolve. The warehouse was replaced by a dark haze that seemed determined to consume you no matter how hard you fought against it.

“Y/N!” 

Javi’s voice echoed in your ears, a swirling sound full of panic, yet it somehow made you feel calm... safe...

“Y/N!” 

“Javi,” you croaked, as you felt yourself slipping into the darkness.  

Your body had turned into cement. 

That was the first thought that crossed your muddled mind as you felt the beginnings of consciousness returning to you. It was as if every part of you had decided to refuse to respond to your demands, held down by invisible weights. 

You'd been knocked unconscious once or twice before in your lifetime, but this grogginess was a first... an uncomfortable and disconcerting force, trapping you on the brink of the land of living.

You had no choice but to lay there, helplessly listening to the sounds around you, each becoming clearer as your faculties gradually returned

Machinery beeping.

Footsteps passing in the hallway. 

Voices caught in frantic conversations. 

"- Javi, calm down. I know. I'm the one who should be feeling guilty, letting her walk in there by herself." "We all thought the meet was secure, Murphy. How could we know she was gonna turn on us? And Y/N, the crazy, stupid - Why didn't she tell me?" 

Javi’s voice was full of anguish.

"Dude, calm down. Y/N’s the strongest person I know. She’s alive and gonna wake up. You heard the doctor, the swelling in her head is down and she’s going to wake up. That’s all that matters now. You can discuss the baby, and what you’re going to do, later."

The baby? You caught the words, a weird rush of relief flooding through you at the confirmation that your baby was alright... 

Thank god. 

And Javi knew? 

That thought echoed over and over in your mind as you felt yourself beginning to fade back into the darkness from which you had come. 

Stubble softly scraping the back of your hand was the first thing you noticed when you finally came to. That, and the pressure of someone squeezing your hand tightly. 

You knew the grip without even opening your eyes. You'd felt it often enough, the rough calloused hand holding yours, brushing against you, touching every single part of you... "You've got to wake up, honey," came an also familiar sound, luring you ever closer to the land of the living.

You'd know that voice anywhere, considering it had become your constant companion. It was the first thing you heard every morning and the last thing you heard at night.

"Please," it continued. "I'm so sorry, ok? Sorry for everything - for making you feel like you couldn't tell me about this. Just... shit... I need you to wake up, cause I fucking love you and I can't- can't lose you-"

Somehow, that was all it took. Those words flipped a switch inside you, allowing you to find the strength to peel your eyes open and register the full extent of your surroundings - including the man sat beside you.

Turning your head, you were greeted with a sight so perfect a part of you thought you must still be dreaming.

Javi.

Sat next to you, you realised he had your hand pressed to his cheek, his lips pressing soft kisses to it in between words.  

He didn't seem to notice the fact that you had stirred, so lost in his desperation. It was probably why he jumped, flinching as you reached over with your free hand to run your fingers through his hair.

"I love you too," you croaked in greeting.

“Y/N?”

Javi had never seemed so fragile as he did then. Eyes wide, he looked nothing like the ice-cold DEA agent you often glimpsed in the field. Instead, he looked like one good gust of wind would send him toppling to the ground had he not already been sat down in one of the plastic chairs that you had come to recognise from your repeated visits.

“Javi, where - where am I?" you continued softly, "What happened? What day is it?" "Sssh. It’s alright. It's almost Saturday. You've been unconscious for over twenty-four hours, even if it felt fucking longer.” His hands were warm as they cupped both sides of your face, guiding you towards him as he kissed you like his life depended on it. 

It was as if neither of you could get close enough to one another, you curling yourself eagerly into his side, breathing in the soft scent of his cologne and cigarette smoke.

“I... I’m sorry,” you choked, the words tumbling out of you before you could even realise what you were saying. “It was my fault. I should have known that something was wrong-”

“No,” Javi scolded, tensing at your guilt-ridden tone. "No, don't say that. Don't - don't do that to yourself. This isn't on you. It's a fuck up - a colossal fuck up, yes, but one we didn't see coming. We vetted the source. She was good. We cleared the meet with Carillo and the Ambassador... there was no way we could have prevented this."

"But-?"

"Carino. Stop. Please," he begged. Yes, Javi actually begged and it was enough to stun you into silence. "I just... talking about the meet? I honestly don't care about all that right now. The who, why how of what happened will still fucking be there later... but right now? Now, you're here... you're alive... and you're finally awake."

His tone melted your heart, making you somehow wish you could absorb every ounce of pain he was experiencing. It hurt you, to know you had caused the man you loved such agony. In a way, you'd had a slightly easier time of it, being the one to sleep through the after math of this disaster. He had had the hardest job; waiting, watching, and worrying.

You knew that pain yourself, having experienced it firsthand since your arrival in Colombia. You'd never forget how it had nearly torn you apart, waiting as Javi had been admitted after a close shave in a shoot-out.

Those two days had felt like an eternity. Two days with no news... just sitting and waiting and praying.

“I ... I could hear you, by the way.”

“What?”

“I heard you,” Javi repeated softly, snapping you out of your head and solidly back into the present, “over the radio. I heard what you said when those assholes hit you - about the baby-”

You froze.

Despite knowing that this moment would inevitably come, now that it was finally upon you, you suddenly wished you were back in the realm of unconsciousness you'd just come from.

"Javi," you began nervously, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, don't be mad at me-"

“-Well, too bad, sweetheart because I am mad. So mad," he exclaimed sharply, "I'm mad at you for not telling me, for putting yourself in danger like that, knowing you're pregnant. I’m not saying you had to decide to keep it or whatever, but it would have been fucking nice to be asked. To know. To not find out after you put yourself on the line." "I- I didn't know what else to do."

“And I’m sorry for making you feel like that,” Javi added swiftly, his tone softening with every passing moment.

It was like watching the air deflating out of a tire, the fear and the rage dissipating almost as quickly as it had first appeared. 

“I get it, why you may not have wanted to tell me... I’m mad at myself that you felt you had to do this alone. I thought you’d trust me enough to know I’d support you, no matter what you decided.”

“I do, Javi,” you sobbed, unable to prevent a tear from escaping your eye. “I just... I got scared and I panicked. I think keeping it secret was more my way of pretending this wasn't real, that I could act like it wasn't happening, that I had more time.”

Silence. 

“Javi, please say something. Anything...” 

"What's there to say? You're pregnant." He shrugged in a desperate attempt to look nonchalant, but you could see the truth. Underneath it all, Javier Peña was utterly terrified.

It didn't matter how much he tried to hide it behind that calm swagger of his, and the crossing of his arms over his chest - you knew him better than anyone. You'd seen him at his very best and his very worst. Such was the lot of living in a war zone, let alone falling in love in one.

Fighting the urge to let your tears escape your burning eyes, you reached over and took his hands in yours. To your relief, he didn't fight you. Instead, he lifted his gaze, his eyes wide and telling you all you needed to know without even asking.

He had obviously spent the last 24 hours mulling the entire situation over and over in his head since the moment he had first heard the news. Lord knows he'd probably imagined each and every possible outcome for the future... your future... "Y/N, I don't know what to say or do. I never even thought about being a parent."

"Me either..." you confessed, relieved to finally be able to say the words aloud to the man who'd needed to hear them the most. "I mean, could the timing be better? yes. I never pictured something like this happening so early on, but it has and now we have a choice to make. To have longer, just the two of us... Or to become a family of three, but either way we'll work it out together. I will love you unconditionally, no matter what you choose but you're my partner, Javi. You have a say in this too. We're a team."

"Y/N," Javi whispered, his voice pained. "I ... I thought I'd lost you... back there in that warehouse, seeing you lying on the ground, knowing I could have lost you, lost this - it was all my worst fears realised." Gently taking your head between his hands, he wiped the tears away. "I love you, too," he declared. "And... if you want this, with me, then I'll try to be a good father."

It was as if a weight had been taken off of you. To know that he was with you, no matter what... that was all you'd ever wanted.

"That's all I can ask for, Javi," you whimpered, failing to hide the playful smile that fell into place, "because let's face it; you don't have much choice anyway, because I'm not going anywhere."

Javi's own signature smirk tugged at his lips. “Good, because I can't lose you... I can't be left with just Murphy. Can you imagine? We'd drive ourselves into an early grave.” 

"Javi!"

It felt blissful for you both the be able to laugh again. To joke like nothing had changed between you, even if it had - for the better, ultimately.

“Speaking of... Where’s Steve?” 

Javi paused. “Went with Connie to get coffee - I feel I should mention that Steve’s pissed you didn't tell him too, you know.”

You groaned. You weren't surprised. “I’ll add him to the list of apologies. Do you think making him and Connie godparents would make it better?” 

“Woah there,” Javi scoffed, the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips. “One day at a time, querida. One day at a time.” 

[overnowsfcb]

cindy lou who; rúben dias blurb

summary: hurts to realize you were the woman before the one

warnings: angst, alcohol abuse as a coping mechanism

note: this blurb is inspired by the song 'cindy lou who' by sabrina. im gonna make a new series with fruitcake ep so this is the first — venus 🫂💐🫧

You wished you hadn't turned on your phone, wished you hadn't opened Instagram with the intent of capturing the first time you felt a positive emotion after four months of doubting your worth.

That spontaneous happiness, your smile for the festivities, and your outgoing personality were snatched away in a second when you saw that photo on his Instagram. Your finger hovered, filled with sadness, analyzing his facial expression and his enamored gaze.

His lips on her cheek as she laughed, a flawless smile adorning her face with crimson lipstick highlighting her full lips.

You swiftly turned off your phone; you couldn't continue torturing yourself. But your mind denied you that possibility—how could you escape the unbearable alarm that had triggered in your mind? Just when you thought you'd found an exit, it turned out to be an illusion, and you were standing on the edge of the cliff all along.

Even your favorite song blaring through the club speakers wasn't going to stop you from unfairly reproaching yourself for not having been enough for him. Had you failed at something?

Perhaps you should have tried harder to reach his heart, even though you were just rubbing salt in the wound because, in your wisdom, you knew the limits he set in front of your actions to prevent you from crossing further.

Why with her? Why did she seem to have found that ingredient you had been searching for so desperately? Your chest burned. What kind of karma did you owe to endure this?

Could you even blame her? If she resembled a fallen angel from heaven with her white dazzling teeth and long, jet-black hair like Cleopatra, and you admitted that your assigned role in Rúben's life was to guide him, to accompany him to the final stop, to the dock.

And now, drowning in alcohol, your mind kept processing the treatment he surely gave her, everything he denied with you—introducing her to his family, sitting by the fireplace with her in his arms telling childhood stories, dreaming about a life together while kissing underneath the fireworks, feeling the explosive magic he didn't want with you but with her.

You downed another shot, the climax in your state that failed to make you forget about him, the whole room spinning around. Amidst your group of friends, you grabbed your best friend's hand, running to the bathroom where you vomited while she rubbed your back and tied up your hair. "He didn't deserve you," she whispered, watching as you finally crumbled, hugging the toilet.

A night where you thought you could return to your former self before his body was tattooed on your fingerprints like a spirit clinging to your shoulders, one that would forever haunt you turned into just another chapter with an open ending.

[draco-dormiens]

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Twenty Three

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

warnings: strong language, sexual themes, implied sex, bit steamy but hey, they deserve it, right? ;) (characters are 18+)

wc: 3466

masterlist

taglist is now closed - i’ve officially run out of tags! thank you all

The Element of Surprise

Draco lands with a thud just outside the Weasley's home. He pulls himself off the ground and dusts down his black suit trousers. As he looks up to gather his surroundings, he notices the most delicious smell protruding the air and the sound of laughter coming from inside the topsy turvy building that the Weasley family calls home. Light is spilling out from the wonky windows, casting long golden paths over the ground, as he cautiously moves to peak inside the nearest window.

"So, we waited for Goyle to come around the corner," George Weasley, one of the red heads that Draco recognises, is telling a story that seems to have the table in stitches, "and as soon as he did, he spots the cupcakes - which we'd put Puking Pastilles in, don't forget - and being the greedy so and so he is, eats them all up," laughter sparks up again, "but the best bit hasn't even happened yet, because just as he gollops down the last one, Millicent Bulstrode - you remember her, Harry? Plump, nasty little thing in Slytherin? - shows up just as Goyle's greedy guts come spilling out all over the place… and all over her!"

Another roar of laughter from everyone, but Draco can only see so far down the table. The other end is obscured by the kitchen cabinets. He can see Potter, Ginny Weasley, George, Granger and, of course, Weaselbee. He fears if he moves anymore, they'll see him, and he still hasn't decided on his course of action. Naturally, Weaselbee won't take kindly to his presence, and there's the possibility that you'll want him driven out as well. Not to mention the other Weasleys, or Potter for that matter. No one in that room particularly liked him. But then, as he's pondering his options and not paying attention to how visible he is, he hears a loud HEY! from just inside.

"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" Ron shouts, getting up off his chair and pointing at the window, as Hermione gets up to see what on earth he was talking about, "get off my property you bloody idiot!"

"Oh my God," Hermione exclaims, and starts telling everyone to sit down and not panic, "I'll go and see to him- oh, no, Mrs Weasley please sit down- Mr Weasley there's no need for wands- RON! GET BACK HERE!"

Startled, Draco can barely move from witnessing all the commotion he's caused by just standing there, as Ron comes barging through the door and into the front yard, a face like thunder.

"Explain yourself," Ron points an angry finger, "you have no business here, Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Harry's voice comes from behind Ron, who moves aside to see Hermione storming over with Harry in toe, "what on earth are you doing here?"

"Get back inside, both of you," Hermione instructs them, but it seems to fall on deaf ears.

"Come to curse me, Potter?" Draco smirks, shoving his hands in his pockets, "'fraid I'm not here for a duel in the loo. I'd like to speak to Granger, if you gentlemen don't mind."

"Hermione?" Ron scoffs, "what do you want with her? I'll hex you into next week-"

"BOTH OF YOU. INSIDE. RIGHT NOW," Hermione bellows, coming between the three of them, "and you, Malfoy, keep it zipped or I'll hex you into next week. Ron," she spins abruptly to face him and jab a finger into his chest, "you have soup to finish. Inside. Now."

The rest of the family were all pressed against the window, trying to get a glimpse of the drama unfolding outside. Reluctantly, Ron and Harry make their way back into the house, looking back and chuntering between themselves. Out of everyone he was expecting to run into, the one person he was most eager to see hadn't shown themselves..

"Come with me," Hermione said, grabbing Draco by the arm and taking them away from the prying eyes at the window to the edge of the wood near Ron's home, "I can't believe you've shown, what happened? Did you leave Astoria?"

"I can explain later," he dismisses her questions, "she's here, right? Or is she hiding inside because she hates me that much?"

"That's not it," said Hermione, "well, I'm not sure about the 'hate you' part... she's not come out to see you because, well... she's not here."

"At all?" Draco raises his eyebrows, and Hermione shakes her head, "you have to be kidding me, I just caused all that ruckus for you to say she's not even here? Where is she, then? Wait.. don't fucking tell me. Chambers asked her out again, didn't he? Slimy git."

"She's not with Edward," Hermione says loudly, and Draco's angry mumbling stops, "in fact, she's not with anyone. She didn't come tonight because she didn't feel like it... can't say she's in the best frame of mind right now."

Draco's guilt hits him once again. Picturing you, alone and miserable, because of everything that he's done. Everything that he said to you that night; it stall haunts him, so he's not surprised if it haunts you, too. You don't even want to see your friends - he's well and truly done a number.

"Where is she right now?" He then asks, in all seriousness, and Hermione sighs.

"She's at home," she tells him, "as far as I know, she's spending the last few days before graduation there. She... doesn't want to be at Hogwarts right now."

"Then we'll go to her," Draco said, getting his wand from his pocket, "location?"

"It's in a muggle village, Malfoy, you can't just apparate there," she explains frantically, "Merlin knows who will see you, and besides, I'm not entirely sure how she'll react-"

"Can you stop waffling on?" said Draco irritably, holding his arm out for her to take, "the quicker you give me a location the faster we'll get there."

Hermione hesitates slightly, but grips his arm anyway, and within a few moments, the world around them is swirling and contorting into a jumbled mix of colours and sounds, until eventually, they both land on a hard tarmac road in the middle of a quiet muggle village. Draco sways slightly from the second apparition of the day as Hermione steadies herself. He looks around at the road they appeared on - houses, all similar in structure, line the streets. Each had a little garden at the front, with trees and flower pots lining the paths that winded through the quaint village. It was quiet, almost silent, with street lamps that lit the way up the road.

"I should've told Ron we were leaving," Hermione then complains, more to herself, "he'll be thinking you've kidnapped me or something."

"Don't worry," Draco jokes, "Old Weaselbee knows I'd be sending you back in a heartbeat."

Hermione shoots him a look of displeasure, before pointing at the street before them.

"Y/N's house is just up ahead," she explains, "come on."

They walk, in silence, up the winding road, passing muggle cars, street signs and phone boxes. Eventually, Hermione stops in front of a house right at the end of the street. Plant pots decorate the front of the house with flowers of all colours. A car sits in the driveway, and a black cat scurries from underneath it and crosses the freshly mowed grass, to disappear behind a trimmed hedge. Draco watches as its tail slithers out of sight, before looking up at the front of the house. A light is on in the very top window.

"That's her room," Hermione points out, and turns to face the blond Slytherin, "if you say anything to upset her, I'll personally see to your demise, Malfoy." She gives him a stern look that reminds him of his mother, and then prepares to apparate back to the Burrow, "just knock. I think her parents are out tonight. I really should get back before Ron sends out a search party."

"Thanks, Granger," Draco said sincerely, "I owe you one."

"Just don't hurt her ever again," said Hermione, readying her wand, “I'll consider that repayment."

Soon enough, with a flick of her wand, she was gone into the night, and Draco was standing alone in front of your house, in a muggle street, in a muggle village. He hesitates to knock, but raps his knuckles on the painted wood and waits for a reply. Nothing happens for a long moment, so he goes to knock again, when he hears the door unlock from the otherside. After a few excruciating seconds, the door creaks open to reveal a sight Draco could never get tired of.

You, shock all over your face and a baggy hoodie over your frame, looking back at him like you've just seen a ghost, and yet, he's never seen a more beautiful being. He aches to pull you in, but knows, just from your expression, you wouldn't welcome him so easily.

"Why are you here?" is the first thing you say, your voice quiet and cautious.

Draco notices the way you observe him cautiously, as if you were ready for him to say something that would only cause you more heartache. He can't stand it - the way you don't fully show yourself to him, how you look at him like he's hurt you. He wants to take it away, to make it better, and so, he slowly inches closer to the doorway.

"I came here," he says softly, eyes never leaving you, "because I had to see you. Speak to you." He stops just before the doorway, inches away from you now.

"But you chose her," you croak, and his heart breaks all over again, "you chose them."

"And I'm a fucking idiot," he laughs sadly, "please, please, Y/N. Can we at least talk? That's all I'm asking. Afterwards, I'll leave and never come back if that's what you want."

After some slight hesitation, you let him inside and softly shut the door behind you both. Draco notices the warm feeling your home seems to have. Family portraits and photos of you in your Hogwarts uniform over the years cover the walls and surfaces. You tell him to wait in the living room as you brew a pot of tea, leaving him to wander around whilst he waits. He looks at the photos individually; some of just you, some of you and your parents, even some of you and Granger in your younger years. There are trinkets, a mug that says 'Best Daddy Ever' and some drawings you must have made as a child. Everything in the room reminds him that a family lives there, and that they love each other. Something he's never really seen before.

"Here," you announce as you enter the room, placing the tray on the coffee table, "we only have breakfast tea. Hope that's okay." 

"That's perfect," he smiles across at you, and you return it slightly before pouring tea into two china cups. He takes a seat on the couch as you pass him a fresh cup, to which he thanks you. For a moment, you both sip tea and say nothing, until Draco breaks that silence.

"Your house is very nice," he compliments, looking across at you, noticing how you're reluctant to look him in the eye, "I wish my home was as welcoming as this."

"This house is nothing compared to yours," you scoff lightly, and he smiles.

"Yeah," he breathes, "exactly."

"How did you know where I was?" you ask him, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"I know some people," he says lightheartedly, but then turns serious, "very good people."

You don't answer that. Your best hunch is Hermione, but how he knew where to find her was beyond you. After all, she'd never disclosed what she was up to in the dungeons that night. A thick silence falls over you again, but the question you really wanted to ask him was hanging by a thread at your lips.

"So," you suddenly say, voice a lot bolder than before, "are you here because you're an engaged, sorry idiot who wants to clear his conscience?"

He places his cup down, and turns to face you. When you don't respond, he gently places a hand on your face and brings your eyes to his. There's a look of pure emotion and genuinity in them, as he rubs his thumb across your cheek, and then along your bottom lip.

"Engaged, no," he whispers to you, "but sorry idiot? That I am."

It takes you a second to process his words, but then the frown on your face evens out and a look of relief washes over you, eyes brightening to shine a little like they used to, and Draco's heart swells to double its size.

"You didn't do it," you mutter, and he shakes his head.

"No, angel, I didn't," his hand moves slightly to rest against your neck, the coldness of his rings causing goosebumps on your skin, "I had a little help... to realise what a fool I was being."

"But what about your parents? Astoria? Aren't you in heaps of trouble now?" you said, concern replacing your relaxed features, "aren't they going to make your life hell?"

"No more than usual," he smirks playfully, eyes flickering over your face like they used to, as if he's memorising every inch of it, "but I don't give a shit about that right now. Right now," he pauses, before taking both of your hands in his, "I just need you to hear something."

You allow him to take his time, as his thumbs run over your knuckles a few times, before he brings them to his lips and kisses each of them delicately.

"Y/N," he mutters against your hand, pressing one last kiss for good measure, "my precious, beautiful girl," he looks up and your eyes lock, "I was so unreasonably cruel to you that night in the woods. I guess I just didn't know how it would feel... to lose something so important to me."

He takes a break, and looks down at your intertwined hands. You remain silent.

"I let you down, and I understand if you never want to see me again after this," he takes a deep breath before looking up again, "but, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for being so unbelievably late, then I promise to give you the world. Everything I have. All that I am," tears begin to well at the corners of his eyes, "because I'm so in love with you, Y/N. Mind, body and soul, I love you."

A tear trickles down your cheek, and he wipes it away with his thumb. You look at him for a long moment; the man you've come to love, the man who has completed the other half of your soul. A few months back, if someone had said to you that one day, Draco Malfoy would be confessing his feelings for you on your couch, in your muggle home, you'd think they were insane.

But right now, as he looks at you as if the world resides in your eyes, it feels like the most sane thing to happen in weeks. You take your hands from his and cup his jaw, feeling the way he leans into your touch with such contentment. He kisses your palm, gently holding your wrist.

"I love you," you whisper, and those steely grey eyes find yours once more, "I love and have loved you, Draco Malfoy. For longer than you might think."

He smiles a watery smile, and his eyes drop to your lips. Hunger swims in them, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't waited for this moment with utter anticipation. "Kiss me," is all you can manage to mutter, and he wastes no time in obliging to that. His lips capture yours in a hot, hungry kiss, his hands taking your face as yours fist at his shirt. You feel his fingers lace in your hair, pulling a satisfied sound from your lips. He swallows it eagerly, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and run his tongue along your bottom lip. Of course, you allow him access, and he pulls you impossibly close to his body, thumbs rubbing small circles just under your ears. It's blissful and full of passion, his lips breaking from yours to kiss across your jaw and down under your ear, to rest at the pulse point in your neck.

"Fuck I love you,” he purrs against the sweet spot, leaving wet kisses as your hands snake up to tangle in his hair, “my angel, my darling girl.”

“Stay with me,” you find yourself pleading softly, as his gaze returns to your hazy expression, “sleep beside me, Draco. Please.”

Hastily, his lips find yours once more in a rushed, messy kiss. You can taste the wine on his lips, and feel his emotion simply through the way he handles you - as if you were a prized possession he simply cannot break.

“There’s nothing I want more,” he said breathlessly, so you take him by the hand, and lead him through the house to the comfort of your bedroom.

Hours seem to pass. His hands wander - and you let them. Just the two of you, enjoying one another in complete harmony, in solace and peace. You’re sure, at this point, there’s not an inch of you he hasn’t kissed, and there’s not an inch of his skin you haven’t touched. It was innocent and vulnerable; just two people, hopelessly in love, savouring one another.

"You’re so beautiful," he breathes against your bare shoulder, pressing tender kisses to the skin as you lay there, tucked safely under the duvet, back pressed to his chest, “thank you,” he mumbles, “for trusting me with you.”

You hum, turning over to face him. He looks so at peace; features soft and sleepy. Draco truly was the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. Gently, you smooth back his hair and press a light kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you," you whisper to him, "for coming back.”

You feel his hand at the small of your back, pulling your body into his. His fingers brush hair behind your ear, and then trace down your jaw to your chin, where he gently brings you in for a soft, tender kiss. His lips linger against yours for a long moment.

"I would have lived every day in regret if I hadn't," he confesses quietly, your limbs intertwined and skin pressed against skin, "I should be thanking you, for giving me the courage."

"Me?" you furrow your eyebrows, "but you did this, Draco. You came here, despite all the odds."

"Do you remember that night we sat in the attic? That room with the big window," he recalls, and you nod, smiling to yourself at the memory, "well, I passed that staircase and, I don't know, it just... flooded back to me. All those memories, the way you make me feel... I just knew, in that moment, I couldn't do it. I couldn't be without you."

"Oh, Draco," you sigh lovingly, nuzzling your nose against his, "you are truly a treasure, my love."

My love. He wants to hear that every day for the rest of his life. Draco closes his eyes, relishing in the love and comfort you provide him, feeling the delicate little kisses you place on his cheek. He's unworthy of such affection, unworthy of feeling your skin on his, gliding his fingertips over the crevices of your body. He's obsessed. Entranced. His entire being and every sense is overtaken by your scent, your touch. And he is at peace, despite what the morning may bring, at this very moment, he is at peace. 

"What happens now?" you then ask cautiously, and he opens his eyes into yours, "about your parents... what will they do?"

"Despite what they may think, I'm a legal adult," he smirks, and some sort of relief flickers in your eyes at his lightheartedness, "but, they might have a few things to say. They'll get over it, they have to. You're mine now, after all."

A triumphant grin spreads across his handsome face, a light pink blush spreading over your cheeks at the sentiment. Once more, he presses his lips to yours; not once, twice, but three times, taking his sweet time in parting on the last one. 

"Whatever happens," you whisper against his mouth, "I'm here for you. Always."

"In that case, anything is possible, angel," he said sweetly as you cuddle into his chest, the sudden urge to sleep overbearing, "but, for now, let's just rest, hm? Think we deserve it."

A little hum of agreement passes your lips, eyes growing heavy as sleep greets your peacefully. Draco, who had forgotten how exhausted he truly was, feels his eyes droop willingly, as his breathing evens out, and a well needed sleep finally takes over. 

Whatever the dawn may bring, you will face it.

Together.

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

tags:

@lovesanimals0000 @cappgyuccino @lightning1ce @onlygetaway @honeyyypeach @namelesslosers @ghostyv @mikadorbs @redactedhimbo @morganadpl @scarecrowscaresthomas @camille-1019 @valkyrie418 @animeloverfreak310 @budugu @marplest @torresbarnes @bunny24sstuff @champagneesupernova @serafilms @siriusly-parker-main @lovely-maryj @i-bitch-you-bitch @astablacksword @sun-fiower-seed @tinafuentes @venusjustleft @omgitstatertot @aangsupremacy @ilovezy @leclerc16s @aslanvez @talesofadragon @3vasaur @the-skys-musical-echo @yeolsbubbles @idk-dolans @xx-kiraa-xx @sunbruized @vinkiesz @snickersmee @fandomrulesall-blog @astheraa @idkatee @marsanhwa @vintageoldfashion @63sucker @j-n-i-c-o-l-e @anarchistsons @smallsweetvanillabean @newbooksmell777 @tangomangroves @neoteezrenyoung @l0v3lies @delusionally-loveless-by-choice @higanbanagirl @ace152435 @arcanebabe @slythermuf @hea-vin @zucchinimalfoy @carolineesnell

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 37]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

"Thank you for your time. It was nice meeting you." You stood up and bowed, shaking hands with the creative team. They were the ones that were going to come up with the concept of the comeback with stylists, background sets and the music video.

"So, what did you think?" Eden asked as you slumped into your chair. You turned to look at him.

"This isn't easy... My brain isn't wired like theirs." You sighed, running your fingers over the loops of your mask as the back of your ears were starting to hurt.

"While they can do that, our brains can come up with music." Eden chuckled, leaning his arm on the table to face you.

"But I've learnt a lot, I'm still learning from this process." You said, spinning in your chair.

"It is not something everyone gets to experience. You're used to making the music and submitting it to let them fend for themselves, right?" Eden asked. You nodded your head.

"Very disconnected." You agreed.

"But the team has been very impressed with you. I'm getting really good feedback on your work and how much of a difference things have been since I brought you in. So good job, your hard work is paying off." Eden patted your shoulder. Luckily your mask could hide your shyness at his praise.

"How are you and..." Eden was still very well aware of where the two of you were and the fact that the walls were not soundproof so anyone could listen in.

"It's been good. I think we've reach a level where we're comfortable with each other enough to support one another." You said.

"That's good, that's good. That kind of stability in relationships are enviable." He smiled.

"With idols, most of the time, the schedules and timings are what cause the connection to fray." He sighed.

"Yeah, it's the hard reality. But I would like to put a little more faith in us than that. Both of us being in the industry, I think we have more understanding when it comes to the other person's schedule."

"I'm happy for you. Being on your own underground from such a young age isn't easy. You deserve some happiness." He chuckled.

"Thank you, Eden." You bowed your head. Once Eden had to leave for his next schedule, you left as well. You shuffled to your studio with a yawn. The entire evening was just filled with back to back meetings, you hardly had any time to work on your music.

"There she is."

"Hwa!" You cried out, throwing your bag aside to throw yourself into Seonghwa's arms.

"What are you doing here?" You grinned up at him. You have missed hanging out and being with Seonghwa. He had been busy with practice and vocal lessons for both singing and rapping.

"I came to see how you have been doing."

"Let's go to the studio." You said. Seonghwa nodded, going to pick up the bag that you had thrown aside.

"Did you wait long?" You asked as you unlocked your studio and went in. Seonghwa followed you in, leaving his shoes outside beside yours.

"Nope, I finished my workout session and managed to shower before coming here. I practically just sat down before you came." He said, touching the still slightly damp ends of his hair. You nodded and arranged your equipment on your desk. Seonghwa patiently waited for you.

"I missed you." You hugged him.

"You've lost weight. Have you not been eating?" He frowned, noticing your slightly smaller frame when he hugged you back.

"I have! And speak for yourself, your waist is smaller, if that's even possible." You scoffed. Seonghwa flicked your forehead lightly, causing you to whine. The two of you sat down at the couch.

"Mingi said today was the first time you're meeting the creative team. How was it?" He asked.

"Interesting. I guess they're a part of the creative team for a reason. It was interesting to see them brainstorm on concepts." You said.

"Oh? Are you interested now?"

"Nah, my brain isn't wired that way. I think I'll stick to music." You shook your head, making Seonghwa laugh. He reached out to pat your head with a brotherly smile.

"Hongjoong always threatens to leave Ateez and join the creative team for wardrobe. The company should just get him his own fashion line or something." He rolled his eyes. You giggled, knowing Hongjoong's love for fashion and making his own clothes.

"I heard from Maddox your upcoming cover is going well. Hongjoong is rearranging it now." You said.

"Ah... yeah... I hope to record it soon. But I need to practice my English pronounciation a little more. I've been working with the tutor on it." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"You're always so hardworking, Hwa. I know it'll turn out well, Atiny will definitely love it." You smiled as you encouraged him.

"Thank you." He smiled softly. You laid on his lap, closing your eyes.

"Are you just going to work in the studio for the rest of the evening?" Seonghwa asked, his hand coming up to stroke your head. You let out a hum of confirmation.

"Let's go get dinner then." He suggested.

"I have to work, Hwa..."

"We can order in. I know you need to work but you need food to give you energy before you can work." Seonghwa argued. You sighed, nodding in defeat. You knew you couldn't win against mother Seonghwa. While he ordered the food, you went to sit at your desk to start some editing.

"What's that?"

"N-Nothing." You closed the window. Seonghwa scoffed and snatched your mouse away, opening the window that you were so quick to close.

"Hwa..." You whimpered, watching the frown grow deeper on his face as his eyes scanned the threatening email. The person even added some grotesque images of violence.

"How long has this been going on for?" He practically growled. You've never seen this side of Seonghwa before, it almost scared you.

"I-It's not a big d-deal."

"Bullshit, Indigo! Answer the damn question!" He yelled. Seeing you flinch and cower back in fear, Seonghwa came to his senses, calming himself down.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled... I'm sorry, it's okay." He held your hands, pulling you in to hug you. He soothed you, stroking the back of your head. It hurt him, to see someone he treated like a little sister, suffer like this and he didn't even know.

"Tell me, how long has this been going on for?" He spoke with a more gentle, patient tone this time. You gulped, beginning to tell him when it all happened and that it has been happening.

"Does Mingi know this? Hongjoong?"

"No. Only Jongho knows and it's because he guessed, I didn't intend for any one to know. Please, Hwa. You cannot tell them." You begged.

"Silly girl, you're more afraid of them knowing than you are of the person who is threatening you." Seonghwa let out a sigh, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Please, promise me. You won't tell them."

"Then what are you going to do? Because if they're following you near your home, that is already a danger." He frowned.

"I'll handle it. I'll go to the authorities or speak to Eden to see if I can work something out. I won't be able to live with myself if I ruin the comeback." Tears welled up in your eyes.

"Ruin the comeback? What are you talking about? Ah... You're really a pabo, you know that. If you promise me you will handle it, I won't tell Mingi or Hongjoong. But you are to tell me if things escalate. You may worry about burdening us but I'm not going to play around with your safety." He said.

"Okay." You nodded. You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, letting out soft cries. It felt relieving to let your guard down.

"I was so scared..." You cried. Seonghwa felt his heart break when he heard your broken cries. He couldn't even begin to imagine how you must have felt.

"You're not alone. We're here, I'm here." He patted your back. With his sleeve, Seonghwa wiped your tears.

He knew how you felt. Of course, he had his fair share of hate before but he had his members with him. This was probably the first time this was happening to you and you were dealing with it alone.

"Shh..." He continued to soothe you.

Once you calmed down, you and Seonghwa together to eat. He ordered some boiled pork belly and wrap accompaniments. In his own, quiet way, you noticed how Seonghwa continued to comfort you. His thigh touching yours and making wraps for you.

"Ahh." He held the wrap out to you and your cheeks heated up but you still took the bite.

"Your future wife is going to be very lucky to have you to take care of her, Hwa." You giggled, covering your mouth as you chewed. Seonghwa scoffed but you noticed his red ears.

"You're speaking nonsense." Seonghwa shook his head, picking at the meat in front of him.

"So, do you guys know your comebacks schedules yet? Like what you're all going to be doing." You asked.

"Not exactly, in terms of the exact dates. I mean, besides the usual music shows for promotions. We have some radio shows and YouTube interviews here and there. Definitely Idol Radio since Yunho and Hongjoong are the DJs. I heard we might go for some overseas festivals?" He shrugged.

"All I hear is busy, busy, busy." You chuckled.

"They might split us up into smaller groups to tackle the interviews and game show appearances. That's what they usually do to cover more ground." He explained.

"Park Seonghwa!" Hongjoong burst into your studio. You jumped in surprise as he looked around, eyes landing on you too.

"I knew you were both here. You thought you could sneak away from me." He crossed his arms.

"I literally texted you that I'm coming to visit Indigo." Seonghwa frowned. Hongjoong blinked in confusion, taking his phone out to check his text. Indeed, Seonghwa's text was right there but Hongjoong didn't see it.

"So you did..." He scratched his head.

"Dramatic much..." Seonghwa rolled his eyes. Hongjoong scoffed but took a double take when his eyes landed on you, suddenly coming to cup your cheeks.

"Did you cry?! Who made you cry? Why are your eyes so puffy?" He moved your head slightly to inspect you further.

"N-No! I'm just tired so I kept yawning. Stop that!" You slapped his hands away from your face.

"Stop fussing and eat." Seonghwa held out chopsticks to him.

"Your daughter cried and all you can think about is food. You're a bad parent, Seonghwa ah." Hongjoong clicked his tongue in disapproval, making you snicker.

"I told you I didn't cry." You frown and slapped his arm. Hongjoong pouted and retaliated by flicking your shoulder lightly. He broke his chopsticks to begin eating. You were full so you went to the fridge to grab a bottle of cold tea to drink. At the same time, you made a mental note to restock the fridge soon.

"Ah, I'm so full. Thank you for the meal, Hwa." You sat back down. Seonghwa nodded in agreement, spreading his arms on the backrest of the couch.

"This is why I didn't want to eat so much, I'll feel sleepy." You cuddled into Seonghwa's side.

"You always feel sleepy around Seonghwa." Hongjoong scoffed.

"Hwa is just more comforting to be around. Don't be jealous." You kicked his calf. Seonghwa sighed and shook his head at how the two of you would bicker like siblings.

"Did you hear back on your OST progress yet?" Hongjoong asked you, changing the topic.

"Yeah, I'm worried that Jongho might not have the time to record. I told him and the production team that I want him to prioritise the comeback. We'll find someone else if he's occupied, I don't want to pile too much on him." You said.

"Are you going to scout underground?" He chewed.

"Nah, the cast of the drama are mainly idols so they want the full idol imagery. So no underground artists." You sighed.

"Would they ask the cast members to sing it then? Fans always like it when they do that, especially if it's the main couple singing a duet together." Seonghwa voiced.

"I did tell them to try proposing it to the male lead if he wants to do it." You shrugged.

After the food was finished, Hongjoong and Seonghwa left to give you some space and peace to finish your work.

"Bye, Indigo. Don't stay too late, hmm?" Hongjoong patted your head as he hugged you. You hummed and hugged him back. He went out to call their manager.

"You text me when you're leaving the building and when you arrive at home, okay?" Seonghwa said seriously.

"I will, Hwa. Don't worry." You smiled softly, squeezing his hand with reassurance. He sighed but pulled you into a hug, squishing you against his chest. Seonghwa didn't want to let you go, knowing you would be alone, but he also knew you would kill him if Hongjoong even began to suspect something.

"Let's go, Seonghwa. Manager hyung is downstairs." Hongjoong poked his head back in. He nodded and walked towards the door. You waved to the two.

"Hi, hyung." The two oldest greeted the manager and climbed into the van to be driven back to the dorm.

"I actually never thought Indigo would become one of our kids." Hongjoong leaned back into his seat, head turning to the oldest. But Seonghwa was just staring into space, deep in thought.

"Seonghwa?" He called the male.

"Huh? Did you say something?" Seonghwa blinked, shaking his head before looking at Hongjoong.

"Are you okay?" Hongjoong tilted his head. The taller nodded his head and leaned against the window. Hongjoong just assumed that he was tired, they all were.

"Thanks, manager hyung. Goodnight." The two bowed when they were dropped off. They went upstairs to find the house surprisingly quiet. Hongjoong showered in the bathroom outside while Seonghwa used the other one in the boys' room.

"Jongho ah, are you awake?" Seonghwa asked after his shower, using his towel to try and dry his hair.

"Yeah, hyung?" Jongho sat up.

"Can I talk to you about something? Privately." He requested. Jongho nodded and got off his bed, following the oldest out of the bedroom. Seonghwa made sure that no one was outside.

"What's up, hyung? Is something the matter? I don't usually see you so serious." Jongho frowned at the seriousness in Seonghwa's voice.

"It's about Indigo." At that, Jongho gulped.

'Leaving studio now. Going home. - Indigo'

You attached a picture of yourself to the text you sent Seonghwa before slinging your bag over your shoulders and leaving your studio. You made sure to lock it. With your mask up, you left work to make your way back home. It was quiet, with not that many people on the street anymore.

RINGGGGGG

"Hello, Hwa? I sent you the text like you instructed. It's late, you should be sleeping or resting, at least." You chuckled, speaking to him through your AirPods.

"I'm not tired yet. Just wanted to make sure the princess was safe on her way home. The streets are so quiet now, I worry."

"See? This is why I didn't want anyone knowing... Seriously, I'm fine." You sighed.

"Indigo, that's not an excuse. We're family, we worry about each other all the time, it's normal. Whether this thing is happening or not, we still worry about each other day in, day out."

"Family equals worrying, got it." You teased.

"Glad you can still joke."

"I do it to make myself feel less scared and to take over the silence. You being serious makes me feel like I should be scared or something. Which isn't helping me." You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see you.

"No, you're right. Sorry, I won't be so paranoid. There's nothing to be scared of. That's why I called, to keep you company and to make sure I know that you got home safely."

"I'm just teasing, Hwa. Thank you for worrying about me. I'm really touched." You giggled.

"I always worry about my loved ones."

You continued talking to Seonghwa as you made your way back home. He even turned the camera to video call or you to prove you were safely in your home.

"See?" You spun the camera around to show him. He let out a sound of satisfaction.

"Alright, goodnight Indigo."

"Thank you for accompanying me on my journey home, Hwa. Goodnight." You smiled before hanging up. Same as always, you left your bag in your studio and went to take a much needed shower. While your hair dried, you sat in your home studio to continue where you left off earlier in your work.

As you laid in bed, Mingi's face popped up, requesting to video call you. You propped your phone up, turning to your side as you answered the call.

"Hi, baby. You look so warm and cuddly in bed." Mingi chuckled, seeing you lay there.

"Hey, Mings. Yeah, I'm going to sleep soon. I just got back home about an hour ago." You yawned, tucking yourself under the blanket.

"That's good, you should sleep soon. You've worked hard, baby. How were the creative team meetings?" He asked, having remembered that you met so many creative teams today.

"They're rather amazing. The stylists, directors, storyboarders, all great minds. We talked a lot about the message and basic concepts before ajourning the meeting. We'll reconvene back in about a month of two." You informed.

"That sounds great. I can't wait to see what they propose to the group." Mingi said.

"Where are you? It's late for you to be out now." You asked. From his background, it looked like he was walking outside.

"I went out for a short walk, wanted to get some fresh air and clear my mind to write some lyrics." He explained. You couldn't really see his face with his mask but you knew he was grinning.

"Oh? And how did that go?"

"I think I got some pretty good material. There's barely anyone around so it was nice and quiet." He shrugged.

"Wow, I'm glad you were productive and able to get some lyrics going. Not sure if you knew beforehand but Seonghwa and Hongjoong stopped by my studio for dinner. It was nice to hang out with them, I felt like I haven't seen them in a while, especially Seonghwa." You said.

"They did? No wonder Seonghwa hyung left practice so quickly, he went to wait for you. I'm glad you got to spend some time with your older brothers." Mingi said.

"And I definitely got good lyrics because all I was thinking about when writing them was you." He added.

"Song Mingi, you better stop it." You scolded him for being cheesy, hiding your heated face in your blanket.

"I only speak the truth, baby." He laughed, finding your reaction absolutely adorable.

"You speak nonsense. You were always able to write such good lyrics before we were in a relationship. Heck, even before I joined KQ." You corrected.

"That is true but you told me to find my muse. To keep me going and overcome obstacles. Not just for one song but for every piece of music that I write." He reminded you of what you said to him during song camp.

"I did say that. And I told you that you would meet my muse one day and that was Haneul." You smiled at the memory.

"Well, baby, you're my muse."

~

Series Masterlist

[winchesterszvonecek]

Prosecutorial Misconduct 18+

Chapter 7 - A Long Awaited Reunion

Word Count: 8518

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

It’s just a knock on the door.

That’s the only phrase that swirled around Melanie’s mind as she lingered outside Mike’s apartment, rocking nervously back and forth on her heels as she did nothing but stare absently at her own reflection in the golden numbers before her. 

It’s just a knock on the door. That’s it. 

A simple tap tap of her knuckles against the wood and she could easily have jumpstarted the moment she’d been longing for. All she had to do was raise her hand. All she had to do was announce herself and she’d finally get to see her brother again after five long years spent apart. 

It’s what she’d wanted, after all. To have Mike back in her life and back by her side, but the longer she stood there… The more nausea she let brew in her stomach… The more thoughts she let plague her mind…the less confidence Melanie seemed to have in herself that she could do it. 

What if things didn’t go the way she planned? What Mike didn’t want to see her? What if… What if she had ruined things permanently and was out of her mind in thinking she ever could mend them? What if he hated her? What if he despised her with everything he had because of the simple way in which she had treated him? 

It was possible. The likelihood of their bridge being nothing more than a pile of smouldering ash was high and she wouldn’t have put it past Mike if he chose to bury it. It’s not like she deserved anything less as she hadn’t exactly been the best sister to him lately. Hell, she hadn’t even been his sister as the way she had treated him… The way she had so cruelly taken things out on him, simply because he just so happened to be there when she needed to? It was nowhere near close to how she was supposed to treat her brother and if you were to ask anyone, they’d happily tell you that she should be downright ashamed of herself.

And she was. She couldn’t be more ashamed of herself if she tried, and if she was telling the truth she was absolutely disgusted by it. She was horrified over her own actions as… how could she? Mike was her twin brother — her literal other half, how could she do that to him? How could she hurt him? How could she betray him? After all he’d done for her… After all the times he’d been the only one by her side, she had still had the audacity to throw him away like garbage and now…what? 

Now she thought she could just show up to his home with her tail tucked between her legs and beg him to forgive her? Beg him to let her back in, and for what? For her own gain? For her own amends? How selfish could she get? She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve his forgiveness, or his advice, or his love. She didn’t deserve anything from him and he sure as hell didn’t deserve to be dragged back into any more of her messes. 

He may already be being forced into her unit, but that didn’t mean he had to be shoved back into her life alongside it and with that in mind, Melanie was quick to spin on her heels and make a run for it. She had to get out of there. It wasn’t right for her to be even here and so, with tears already brewing in her eyes, she headed straight for the exit, hoping to make a swift escape before Mike decided to leave the confines of his apartment himself. 

Only, as she hurried down the corridor with her heart in her stomach, Melanie quickly came to learn that Mike had never been in his apartment. Not for a single second of her anxiously standing there had he ever been inside those walls, as when she passed the elevator… And when those doors creaked eerily open, he walked right out from between them and almost knocked her clean off her feet. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I…” 

As Mike’s clumsy gaze rose from the ground and drifted slowly up the short length of his sudden near-miss, his words were quick to fall silent. His mouth drew tightly closed. His eyes failed to complete their path to her face and even so he didn’t need to go any further. He didn’t need to carry on up and catch a glimpse of her to know her identity, as he already knew who it was. From the mere way in which she stood before him, rigid beneath the hands he’d used to help steady her and fiddling anxiously with an identical bracelet to the one on his wrist, he knew who it was.

And truth be told, he almost couldn’t believe it. 

“Mellie?” Mike whispered, allowing his hands to fall as he took a small step back so as not to crowd her. He drew in a shallow breath, forcing his gaze to carry on up the last stretch of her body, whereupon reaching the top, they instantly tightened at the worry that swam in her own and he couldn’t help but think the worst. “Mellie? What is it? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Melanie said immediately, shaking her head and flashing him a forced smile as she nervously began to shuffle to her right, her eyes shifting past his arm as she marked out her escape route. “It’s nothing. I, uh, I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry.” 

Before her words could settle in the air Melanie was already trying to rush past him, but given the irksome little detail of Mike knowing her, and her go to moves, better than anyone else on the planet he was quick to jerk to his left to try and stop her. However, like the fool he sometimes was, he made one critical mistake in that he raised his arm, allowing Melanie to duck seamlessly beneath it and make her break for the stairwell. 

By the time Mike realised what had happened and spun on his heels she had already slipped through the door, leaving it to swing noisily in place as he followed swiftly after her. He barreled through it like the cop he was, not even remotely surprised to find that Melanie was already two flights down by the time he reached the very first step and began his descent.

“Melanie, wait!” Mike called after her, his voice echoing around him as he jumped the last four stairs of the first set. He landed roughly on the cement, swirling round the bend so fast that he nearly fell headfirst down the next. 

But what would a chase with Melanie be if he hadn’t almost killed himself, and with a fond smile tugging at his lips he easily brushed it off and regained his footing, descending the second flight in fewer jumps than most regular people could. He kept going, his long legs giving him a proper fighting chance of catching Melanie before she reached the bottom, but even still, he had that lingering fear that he’d lose her in the street for good, and so he picked up the pace. 

However, as he finally reached the bottom floor and made his break for the door, he didn’t need to go any faster, as Melanie had made the rookie mistake of slowing down as she crossed through the foyer. Mike caught up to her easily, hooking his hand around her elbow and stopping her dead in his tracks, which was easier than he thought it would be as it seemed as though the mere touch of his hand caused Melanie to lose all incentives to flee. He loosened his grip a little, allowing her to slip freely out of it as her feet began to move on their volition, a sharp sigh leaving her lips as she spun slowly on her heels to face him. 

“You never could outrun me,” Mike said matter of factly, a small grin splitting his lips at the deadpan look that engulfed Melanie’s face.

“Alright, Edward Cullen , pipe down,” She muttered, rolling her eyes and folding her arms over her chest as Mike chuckled softly to himself. “So you caught me. Who’s to say I didn’t let you?” 

“Your eyes,” Mike huffed out cockily, raising his finger and swirling it in circles in front of her face. “Is that defeat I see in there?” 

“Stop it,” Melanie grumbled, swatting at his hand and trying her best to act outwardly annoyed despite the smile that was tugging at her lips each time he tried again. “God, you’re such a dick sometimes.” 

“Yeah well,” Mike began, exhaling quietly as he tucked both hands into his pockets and shrugged, his voice quiet, “I’m your brother, aren’t I? It’s my job.” 

“Yeah,” Melanie sucked at her teeth, her eyes falling to the foyer floor at the intense wave of guilt that washed over her. “You are… But if you were wise, you wouldn’t be.” 

“Mellie,” Mike whispered, the raw pain that dripped from her tone breaking his heart entirely. He stepped forward, removing one hand from his pocket and placing it on shoulder, feeling as it all but trembled beneath his touch. “Mellie, look at me.” 

Like a child, Melanie refused.

“Melanie Grace, you look at me,” Mike said again, this time with enough firmness that it mimicked their dad and took him by surprise. 

It worked, though. It took Melanie a second, as she cringed over the use of her middle name and the eerie similarities the moment had to all the times her dad had been the one to say it, but eventually she gave in, sighing deeply through her nose and glancing up at him. 

With his features softening, Mike lifted his hand and placed it gently aside her face. “I’ll always be your brother, Mellie. No matter what.” 

“Then that makes you an idiot,” Melanie sniffled, trying her best to keep her tears at bay as she pressed her fingertips to her chest. “Because the way I treated you…”

A disbelieving, disgusted scoff left the back of her as she fell silent, her lip wobbling and her eyes squeezing shut as she struggled to find the right words to fully express herself. To fully express how sorry she was, for everything. It had already been hard, just facing Mike again without a pre-written script in her head, but to hear him say that? To hear him say he’d always be her brother? No matter what? 

Well, let’s just say it made it so much harder for her to figure out how to properly showcase just how deeply sorry she was for causing him the need to say it. But luckily for her, Mike knew her better than anyone else and didn’t need her to say anything. He didn’t need her to fill the void by forcing more pain soaked words out of her mouth, not when he could already see what was so obviously haunting her. 

It was written all over her face, sitting heavy beneath her eyes and cascading over every ounce of her skin like a rippling wave of thick, murky fog. But most importantly, he could see it in her eyes once they opened again, as though it were carved into stone as it sat etched into every shimmer of the brownness staring back at him. He would have been blind to miss it. 

The regret. 

The self-hatred.

The all round, and deeper than the ocean they both loved, guilt that swam in their entirety was exponential, and from the way she struggled... The way she failed at keeping them focused on him for longer than a few seconds, he could easily tell that she was drowning in it. That she was all but gasping for air beneath the heavy weight of the repressed emotions that had come crashing back down on top of her and so he allowed his hand to fall, his arms wrapping instantly around her small frame as he invited her to lean as much of that weight as she could onto him. 

And boy did she ever. 

As her own arms slipped comfortably around him, Melanie felt heavier than she’d ever been before and it very nearly caused him to stumble backwards. He managed to steady himself before he did, thankfully, and as his legs stiffened in place he could already feel his t-shirt dampening as she continued to cry against his chest, her shaking fingers curling tightly around the fabric as she allowed every drop of it out at once. 

Years worth of guilt, of pain — agonising pain seemed to come pouring out of the flood gates in those few small minutes during which held her, doing nothing but stroking the back of her hair and providing her with all the comfort she could ever need to finally let it all out. He had no idea just how much she had in her. How much she had bottled up deep inside. How much she’d been struggling these past few years without him. And it hurt. Like a bullet to the gut, the thought of her suffering in silence for this long pained him in ways he didn’t even think were possible. 

He always thought she was okay. He always… Every time he asked, their dad always made it seem as though she’d gotten her life back together and was finally happy again. But just looking at her now… Or rather, seeing her not look at him out of fear of showing vulnerability as she all but crumbled into pieces in his arms? He didn’t think she’d ever been okay and if he had known… If he had really, truly known just how badly she was suffering, he’d have broken down her front door a long time ago and refused to leave until she’d talked to him. 

“I know I hurt you,” Melanie whispered, lifting her head from his chest and using her shoulders to wipe at her eyes as she sniffled softly, “And I understand if you hate me, but Mikey I need you to know that I am sorry. For every horrible thing I said to you, I am so sorry.”  

“I know,” Mike said softly, bringing one hand up to wipe away the tears that kept rolling down her cheeks. “But you don’t need to apologise, because I don’t blame you.”  

Melanie’s brow dipped, “You don’t?” 

“No, I don’t,” Mike said assuringly, and it was true. He could never, ever blame her for her actions, not after what she’d been through. “You went through a terrible tragedy. One after the next, and I didn’t understand that. I didn’t… I didn’t know what you needed or when you needed it and I pushed too far. I forced you to snap…”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Yes, I did ,” Mike cut her off, his eyes serious, “Now I may never be able to know just how you felt back then, but I know how you feel now. I know what you carry with you every single day, but you don’t have to do it anymore…because I forgive you. Even though I don't need to, I do forgive you, Mellie. For everything. And if you’ll let me… I’d really like to be your brother again.” 

“I’d really like you to be too,” Melanie whispered. Barely. She didn’t want to open her mouth more than a fraction out of fear of what would come pouring out through it. Instead, she just smiled tearfully, leaning herself against Mike’s chest and feeling as his arms tightened around her again. “But you might regret that once you start working with me.” 

Mike laughed, releasing her from his hold, “I’m sure I’ll manage.” 

“Yeah we’ll see,” Melanie said playfully, yet doubtfully. She wiped at her face, doing her best to settle herself as she elaborated further, “I’ve been told I’m a handful.” 

“No surprise there…” Mike mumbled, before asking quickly in case Melanie assaulted him for it, “You want to go get a drink?” He raised his eyebrow, adding enticingly, “My treat?”  

“I’m on duty,” Melanie sighed sadly, as she would have loved nothing more than to drink his wallet dry. She then shrugged, adding lazily, “Technically, anyway. I’m on desk duty.” 

That I walked out on, she thought to herself. But whatever. Duty is duty, and unfortunately for her that meant staying sober. 

“Okay,” Mike drew out, choosing not to ask why she was on desk duty just yet . “Coffee then?” 

Melanie hummed in disagreement, “I’ve already had six cups and an energy drink today, my heart won’t take any more.” 

“Jesus, Mellie, what is wrong with you? No one needs that much caffeine before…” Mike glanced down at his watch, his eyes widening as he shook his head. “Three in the afternoon… Do you have a death wish?”

“Not at the moment, no,” Melanie said casually, and Mike couldn’t help but narrow his eyes worryingly. He always hated when she talked like that. “But I do have a hangover, so it’s justified.

“Barely,” Mike scoffed, yet he brushed it off and rolled back his shoulders, releasing the tension from on top of them. He took a second, his forehead creasing as he tried to think of the best place, besides home, for his hungover, chaos-embodiment of a sister. “How about a walk through Central park? Get some fresh air into your lungs? Clear your head?” 

“Boring,” Melanie groaned dramatically, her face scrunching up at the mere suggestion as does she look like a dog who needs walked? “There’s too many people there, also I just tackled a public masturbator in there like thirty minutes ago, so you know… Ew.” 

“Fair,” Mike exhaled, tilting his head agreeingly. “Sounds pleasant, though.” 

“Oh, it was,” Melanie replied with equal sarcasm, and with an evenly matched satirical smile that made Mike chuckle. “And it’s everything you have to look forward to.” 

Mike nodded in fairness, a small amount of relief coursing through him when Melanie didn’t appear outwardly peeved by the mention of his transfer. “Where do you want to go then?” 

With a shrug, Melanie mumbled, “I don’t know… Maybe the aquarium?” 

“The aquarium?” Mike repeated questionably, his brow furrowing a touch as when it came to Melanie, the aquarium was pretty much a full day excursion. “I thought you were on duty.”

“ Desk duty,” Melanie reiterated, unamused. “And besides, I just got my gun taken away from me so I feel like I deserve to see some fish.” 

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” Mike asked, “Because dad hasn’t stopped calling me all morning.” 

“Well, if that’s the case, then you already know what’s going on, don’t you?” Melanie huffed out, with an unintentional bitterness as leave it to her dad to spread her business around like wildfire. 

“I didn’t say I answered,” Mike retorted humorously, watching as Melanie failed at stopping her mouth from curling upwards — he knew that would get her. He cocked his head to the side, giving her arm a gentle nudge, “Let’s go, you can tell me all about it once you’ve seen some fish.” 

“I do like seeing the fish,” Melanie exhaled fondly, catching the subtle smile of agreement that crept up on Mike’s face as even though he preferred exploring caves and finding shiny treasure in the sand when they’d dive together, even he couldn’t deny that there was nothing more relaxing than fish watching. 

And so, after Melanie ducked into the foyer bathroom to clean herself up, as Mike made a point of telling her she looked like she was high, the two of them left the apartment building and headed straight for the aquarium.  

When they arrived, not a single employee, the security guard included, so much as batted an eye when Melanie and Mike strolled straight past the kiosk without stopping to buy a ticket. If anything, the only whispering double-take they gave each other at the ticket-less entrance was at seeing the two of them together. As for the past five years they’d only ever come to visit the sealife separately and oftentimes, when that happened, they would both miss passing each other by a split, painstakingly small second. 

It disappointed the staff each time they did. They’d all been secretly rooting for a M&M reunion for so long that it was honestly overwhelming to finally see them together again, and a few of them even teared up at the sight… Okay, one of them teared up, but that was only because she was an overly emotional person and would cry at anything even remotely heartwarming.

The rest of the staff just smiled fondly, having lost count of how many times they’d had to watch one twin head towards the exit whilst the other would come simultaneously strolling in through the entrance. It had grown exhausting by the fourth go around, so you could imagine how thrilled they were to finally change the metaphorical ‘ days without seeing the twins together’ board back down to zero as they watched them stroll amicably down the hallway towards the exhibits.

Let’s just hope it stays amicable and that they don’t end up finding one of them floating limbless in the shark tank later… Otherwise they’d have daddy Dodds stopping by and he wasn’t anywhere near as fun as his kids. 

And speaking of his kids… Having not said a single word to each other since they entered, Melanie and Mike continued to delve deeper through the aquarium tunnel as they headed towards their favourite exhibit, gazing briefly at the carefree fish swimming aimlessly above them rather than react to the blatantly obvious, yet happy, surprise that riddled each staff member they passed. 

Even the diver in the tunnel tank did a double take when he spotted them, causing a baby shark to accidentally knock him in the head with its tail as it swam seamlessly overhead, easily catching Melanie’s attention with it and making Mike jump when she gasped.

“Mikey, look,” She nudged him eagerly, pure wonderment clouding her face in a way that made Mike smile as she rushed towards the glass, her finger almost snapping with how hard she pressed against it. “Betty had her baby.” 

“Why am I not surprised that you know that?” Mike breathed out, following her over. He may have liked ocean life himself but he was nowhere nearable to identify certain mammals by family and honestly…he wouldn’t have put it past Melaine if she knew the family tree of every single creature inthe aquarium, not just Betty. “Also when did you name the shark?” 

“A few years ago,” Melanie shrugged, gazing up at the shark in question as she loomed almost hauntingly over their heads. “Trev let me dive with him back when Betty first got here, you know, to make sure she settled okay. And she was nervous at first, as most of them are but then all of a sudden she just sprang to life. Almost like she realised she was finally safe and then she just swam right up to me…booped me on the mask with her nose.” She booped Mike as she said it, making him scrunch his own nose up as it tickled beneath her touch. “Ever since then… she’s been Betty Boop.” 

“You are insane,” Mike laughed, yet he wasn’t surprised at all as she had names for literally everything. 

“I’ve been called that before,” Melanie agreed, carelessly. “But they need names, okay, you can’t just go around calling them by their species, it’s gonna get confusing.” 

“I thought… Betty,” Mike began reluctantly, as he couldn't believe he was calling a shark Betty. “Was the only lemon shark they had?”

“No, they have two. Well, three now,” Melanie said, backing up to the middle of the tunnel and rotating slowly as she searched around her. Her eyes scanned easily through all the sea life surrounding them, passing turtles, sting rays and all kinds of small fish until she finally spotted it, the second large lemon shark that swam right along the tank’s surface. “There…” She pointed, waiting until Mike’s eyes followed her finger and he nodded, “That’s Benny, he got here around about the same time as Betty.” 

“Why is he all scarred like that?” Mike asked curiously, his eyes narrowing as they trailed along the thick, ragged scars on the shark's underside.

“He got tangled up in a fishing net and dragged into the propellers of a fishing boat… An illegal fishing boat,” Melanie elaborated bluntly. She’d always hated illegal fishermen. “He was found by some divers off the coast of California and they called in a rescue team. He spent months in a specialised rehabilitation facility before they transferred him here.” 

“He can’t go back to the ocean?” 

Melanie shook her head, her voice saddening, “His injuries were too extensive he won’t survive out there on his own. But at least here he gets a chance.” 

“And a friend,” Mike added in amusement, “I’m sure he’ll be growing tired of you soon with how much you visit him.”  

“You shut up, he loves me,” Melanie defended, making Mike huff out a laugh and shake his head as she went back to staring in awe at the shark in question. “He always comes looking for me when he knows I’m here.” 

“Okay, Mrs Brody,” Mike muttered sarcastically, making her frown as she glanced over her shoulder to glare at him. He then wiped the smile from his face, his features shifting as he tilted his head, easily telling Melanie that it was time to get down to the real reason as to why they were here.

And with a defeated sigh Melanie agreed, she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer and so she hopped down from the bench, hesitantly motioning for him to lead the way towards the cafe, which just so happened to look directly into their favourite exhibit.

The coral reef.   

The two of them could spend hours, alone or together, simply gazing into the reef from their seat. Allowing the peaceful atmosphere to drown the world out entirely as they studied the fish, watching as they weaved their way through the tubes and tunnels, twisting and turning through the coral like a child going down the slide at a waterpark. 

If they were lucky, they’d even get to see the octopus that often lurked around the reef, camouflaged and hidden amongst one of the small coves and almost invisible, did you not know the signs to look out for. And given that the twins very much knew what to look out for, they alway spotted old Hank skulking across the reef easily, often looking for the best place to settle in for his afternoon nap. 

“You want something to drink?” Mike asked, as the two of them stepped into the relatively quiet cafe and headed for the table in the corner — the one that was always reserved specifically for them. 

“Anything but coffee,” Melanie said with a partial chuckle, one that was more like a wisp of breath that escaped when she sunk down into her seat, feeling a small weight lift from her feet as hadn’t realised how tired she was. 

As Mike nodded briefly then headed towards the counter to grab them something, Melanie turned her head and fixed her gaze to the vibrant, colourful reef that surrounded them. She could already spot about four different species of fish swimming idly throughout it, swirling and swaying as they all but put on a show — her favourite show as she could sit there for days and never get bored.

The first one she noticed was everyone’s favourite: the clownfish, popping playfully in and out of its anemone with its little fin swishing away happily. Next was a large, dark brown sweetlip who was just casually floating slowly by, his big beady eyes scanning the area for the perfect crustacean for dinner. There were even a handful of angel fish, who always looked so grumpy all the time despite living in one of the most magical places Melanie could think of. 

If it were possible, she’d swap her legs for a tail and move to the ocean in a heartbeat, but unfortunately for her there were no evil sea witches living on land so unless she could hijack a submarine to go find herself one, she had no choice but to stick with her stupid shore legs. 

“Here you go,” Mike’s sudden, and almost apologetic for doing so, voice pulled Melanie from her dreams of living as a mermaid and she turned to him. He rolled his lips together, setting a glass in front of her and watching as she drew her narrowing eyes slowly down to see what he was trying his hardest not to smile about. “You said no coffee.” 

“So you got me…diabetes instead?” Melanie questioned, gesturing towards the extravagant milkshake he’d just placed in front of her. It was chocolate, naturally, with the top piled high with whipped cream which was then smothered with a thick, chocolate syrup and sprinkled with extra chocolate flakes. “I feel ill just looking at it.” 

“Oh please,” Mike scoffed, settling swiftly in his seat with a simple cup of coffee for himself. “I once saw you eat half a chocolate cake in one sitting, then fifteen minutes go back for the rest.” 

“It was a small cake,” Melanie said in defence, yet she drew her tongue knowingly across her teeth as it had not been a small cake, and she was well aware of that. Nevertheless she frowned, waving it off with her hand, “Whatever, just leave me alone.” 

Amused, Mike laughed quietly into his mug as he took a sip, watching as Melanie eyed her milkshake suspiciously as she slowly began to stir it with her straw. He knew she’d like it, she was the biggest sweet tooth he knew and the chocolate cake story had not been a dramatic exaggeration. She had actually eaten the entire thing herself, and still had room for a bag of M&M’s afterwards so it was no surprise to him that when she eventually sipped cautiously at the drink, she perked up visibly the moment it reached her tongue.

“Now that you’ve…fed, so to speak,” Mike began, tilting his head a little from side to side as Melanie glared over her glass at him. “Are you gonna tell me why you lost your gun or do I need to call dad back?” 

With a look that said you wouldn’t dare, which in turn got a response that said try me, Melanie let out a deeply peeved sigh and leaned back, running her fingers through her hair as she pondered the best place to start. From the beginning, obviously, she thought to herself. Where else would you start if not there? And in this instance, in this mess of a situation she’d found herself in, the beginning would be none other than the push-in rapist/Terrance Reynolds case. It had been the very first domino to fall in the chain of events that followed, therefore Melanie came to the easy conclusion that that was the best place to start. 

And with that in mind she then sucked in a breath and before she knew it, had the words tumbling out of her mouth so fast that she didn’t get a chance to go over them in her head beforehand. She couldn’t even hear most of what she was saying due to her heart beating inside her ears, but she knew from Mike’s reaction that she was telling him everything. And by everything she meant everything. She literally told him, word for word, exactly what she’d said at the grand jury — which she was fairly certain might have been a crime… Maybe. Or if not, then it was at least frowned upon and could get her into a lot of trouble should anyone find out she’d talked about it. 

Not that they would find out, as she and Mike had a twin bond that was basically like a priest's confessional meaning neither of them were allowed to say anything about what the other one had told them in confidence. They’d even used it in court a few times, and obviously they didn’t say it aloud to anyone, but they have willingly perjured themselves to the point where they should be in jail for life simply because they didn’t want to break an unspoken law between twins. 

But anyway, crime committing aside, Melanie still told Mike everything — well, almost everything. 

As much as she trusted her brother not to spill the beans to anyone, she couldn’t risk telling him about Barba. She didn’t want to take the chance that he’d accidentally mention in passing that the ADA once stopped by her house to ask her to testify for him, therefore she purposely left out every single thing relating to Rafael Barba. She didn’t even call him by name either, as she couldn’t trust herself not to blush just thinking of him. And whilst most people wouldn’t pick up on the small detail of her scarlet flushing cheeks, Mike definitely would and she really didn’t want to divert the conversation to the dumpster fire that was her attempt at a love life.

Instead, she breezed easily past their ‘ Would they? Won’t they?’ moments and moved swiftly on to describing her confrontation with Campesi in great detail. She mentioned how it started…how it played out…how it ended, and whilst Mike wasn’t thrilled to hear about his sister getting hurt, the only thing that truly shocked him about the entire situation, besides Melanie’s comeback at Campesi — which honestly he was rather proud of her for — was the simple fact that Campesi had left the stairwell alive. That little detail blew his mind extensively, as attacking Melanie whilst her back was turned? Sneaking up on her when she didn’t expect it? Well, even he knew better than to do that and he was genuinely surprised that she hadn’t pulled her gun and shot Campesi dead right where she stood.

“Now she’s claiming you attacked her?” Mike asked, taking a sip of his coffee as Melanie nodded, happily slurping away at the milkshake she ‘ felt ill looking at’ through her straw. “What did dad say?” 

“He said he knows that I didn’t do it, but Tucker?” Melanie scoffed distastefully, “I tell him I have no alibi and that automatically makes me guilty.”

“There’s seriously not a single person who can vouch for your whereabouts?” Mike asked in disbelief, causing Melanie’s gaze to fall as she began picking at the already chipped polish on her nails. His eyes drew narrow, suspicion circling him as he studied her, watching the small flecks of polish lift from her nails and land on the table.

Curious, he thought to himself. She only ever did that when she was truly anxious about something, and he was beginning to suspect that there were a few details she was purposely leaving out of her story. He then leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as his voice grew firm, yet taunting,

“Mellie, I know you’re hiding something…”

A sharp, annoyance filled huff left Melanie’s nose before he could finish, her fingers now tapping anxiously at the tabletop as she did nothing but stare menacingly towards him, her jaw twitching as she watched the blatant smugness roll noticeably over his face at how quickly he’d figured her out. The bastard. He always did like to gloat when he caught her in a lie, but honestly, it was no fault but her own. After all these years, she should have known better than to try to lie to him whenever he already knew all of her tells, nail polish picking correctly being one of them. 

It was even so bad that, to this day , the two of them still weren’t allowed to play Poker together. As they were always able to tell when the other one was bluffing, which only ever led to threats of physical violence and extensive search history on how to properly throw cards. 

“Fine, you got me,” Melanie grumbled sarcastically, mentally calling him an asshole and finding herself greatly amused when he glared at her as though he’d heard her. She let out a breath, leaning back against her chair and pausing momentarily to watch a tiny little surgeonfish float by. “I just… I don’t want IAB, or dad, to know where I was, alright, that’s all.” 

“Why not?” Mike asked curiously, yet he was almost worried to hear her answer as lord knows what could come fumbling out of her mouth. “Where could you have possibly been that’s so bad it's worth getting framed for assault?” 

“It's not where I was. It’s… It’s who I was with,” Melanie mumbled, feeling her cheeks already start to heat up and she hadn’t even thought about Barba yet. She sucked in a nervous breath, letting it out slowly as she reluctantly drew her eyes back over to meet him. “I was with… a guy, okay? For the whole night.” 

Oh, thank God, Mike thought to himself. The way she was acting, all shady and secretive, he’d half expected her to tell him that she was off doing something illegal, like assaulting someone else somewhere in the city. Or perhaps even committing arson, or something equally as heinous as that. But no. Turns out, she had been with a guy ! Of all the nerve-wracking, it’s time to flee the country, scenarios he’d been imagining in his head, she had literally been off getting laid somewhere. 

Talk about a relief. 

“So you were with a guy,” Mike shrugged, “Who cares? It’s not like dad still thinks you’re a virgin.” 

Melanie frowned, “What a lovely thought, Michael, thank you.” 

Mike chuckled, “I’m just saying, it’s not like he’s gonna care if you were off getting laid somewhere when it could help clear you for the assault.” 

“But that’s the thing, though, I wasn’t getting anything… Other than hammered,” Melanie added quickly, and with a shameless tilt of her head that didn’t surprise Mike one bit. She then leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table before running her hand over her chin, her tone growing serious, “But if I tell dad…” She shuddered at the mere notion. “If I tell IAB that I was passed out drunk in this guy's bed an hour before the supposed attack then they’re just going to assume that I was getting laid and I can’t have that.” 

“Why not?” Mike questioned, his intrigue sparking at the obvious way in which Melanie’s cheeks slowly began to redden. That was strange. If she didn’t sleep with him… Then what the hell was causing her to blush so much? “Are you that embarrassed for a handful of people to think you were having sex even if it could save your career?”  

“It wouldn’t save my career,” Melanie said bluntly, “If anything it would make things worse as this wasn’t just any guy, Mikey, this was… He’s…” God, she didn’t even want to say it out loud over fear of it travelling, but she knew she had to. Mike wouldn’t give up till he’d all but beat it out of her, and so she gave in, confessing quietly, “I work with him.” 

“Ah,” Mike exhaled, nodding. Now the blushing made sense... Sort of. “Is it your partner?”

Melanie shook her head timidly, widening her eyes as though she were trying to tell him who it was without actually having to tell him. And he seemed to get that. He always did pick up what she was so subtly putting down and as the realisation slowly kicked in, Mike’s brow began to lift on his forehead. 

“He’s not a cop?” He mused, hearing Melanie hum in a half-assed agreement before she went back to picking at her nail polish.  

Now this was interesting, Mike thought to himself. If the guy wasn’t a cop, and if Melanie was this against telling IAB the truth then he had to be someone much higher up the food chain and that didn’t really leave him with many professions left in the small circle of those it could be. 

Was it… a judge, maybe? Was that who his sister was fretting about? Some guy with a robe and a gavel? Surely not. Mike knew best of all that Melanie hated most judges, and they themselves were openly inclined, if not happy, to reciprocate those feelings given how many times she’d been held in contempt of court so it couldn’t be that… Could it? 

“Jesus, Mikey, I’m not seeing a judge.”

“Stay out of my head,” Mike said bluntly, hearing Melanie chuckle smugly into her milkshake. “And hang on, I thought you said you weren’t seeing him.”

“I’m not,” Melanie said quickly, chewing at her straw as she added, in a mumble, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

Ah-ah , now the blushing made more sense, Mike thought to himself, his eyebrow raising curiously as he went right back to pondering this wannabe lover-boy’s profession. 

It wasn’t a judge, okay, that much he should have known, but by the subtle gleam in her eye when she spoke he could tell he was on the right path. Defense attorney, perhaps? It was possible… There were relatively attractive ones floating about and they were Melanie’s type after all, right down to the suit, the tie and the briefcase. But honestly, that just seemed even more unlikely than a judge given how frequently, and how many of them, Melanie had gotten herself into trouble over because she’d threatened them…

Yeah, it wasn’t a defence attorney and that really only left him with a prosecutor…if he was even on the right path. Which, honestly, he was starting to think he wasn’t as last he’d heard, SVU’s ADA was a woman and unless Melanie had come out in the last five years, he was fairly certain that she didn’t swing that way. 

“Will you please just tell me who it is?” Mike finally said, a deeply fed up sigh leaving his lips over his failure at sussing things out. “I’m getting a headache.” 

“I can’t,” Melanie whispered, making Mike frown as after all that… She still wasn’t going to tell him? Rude . “But it doesn’t really matter who he is, okay? The only thing that truly matters is that if IAB even so much as thinks we’re seeing each other then it could rain a lot of heat down on him.” 

“And on you,” Mike added, as she seemed to be forgetting about herself in this little scenario. “You could get in trouble too, Mellie, not just him.” 

“I know, but the thing is… I don’t really care about myself right now,” Melanie confessed, holding up her hand to silence Mike when his mouth opened as she knew what he was going to say. “ Not in that way. I just…” She swallowed thickly, forcing back the lump that was slowly rising in her throat over the truth as to what was really holding her back from Barba. “I’m worried about how it’ll look for him . He's a reputable guy, you know, with an important job and a really, really great future ahead of him and I’m just… Well, me.” 

“What’s wrong with being you?” 

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I like being who I am…”

“Then what’s the problem?” Mike asked, his brows knitting together tightly as for the first time in his life… he was barely grasping at the straws of what she was getting to. 

“The problem is that he's a respectable — a respected member of the community, whereas me?” She gestured to herself with a delusional scoff. “I’m about as far from respected as can be, I mean… Just look at my record. It shows that I’m nothing more than a reckless detective with way too many dings for disorderly conduct. Major anger issues that always land her and those around her in hot water… Not to mention my untreated ADHD. That’s a whole problem in and of itself and it gets me in way more trouble than I like to let on.”

“Okay listen,” Mike said, bringing his hands to his chin, as though praying for the strength he’d need in order to unravel this string. “I’m gonna get to everything you just said but for the moment… And please, if you could refrain from attacking me…”

“I can’t guarantee that, but go on.” 

Nervously, Mike cleared his throat, “Maybe… And I’m just saying this as a possible solution to your problem. But maybe you should think about taking those meds Dr Simmons prescribed for you.” 

“You shut your mouth,” Melanie said immediately, clearly offended and Mike even leaned back in his seat in case she tried to lunge at him for simply suggesting it, “I’m not taking those pills, okay, I like being like this.” 

“But you just said-“

“I know what I said,” Melanie snapped, her eyes then closing regrettably as she didn’t mean to come across so harshly. She just didn’t like thinking about this, but she knew if she kept it bottled up any longer then it would eventually break her. 

With a shallow, shuddering breath slipping past her lips, Melanie ran her hands up her face and into her hair, curling her fingers tightly around the softened strands beneath her touch. She lingered there for a moment, feeling the slight sting to her scalp and wishing she was able to rip the thoughts permanently from her mind. But unfortunately for her, things were never that easy and she simply couldn’t get rid of her fears that way. And so, after opening her now glistening eyes to see Mike’s patient, yet worry riddled, own staring back at her, she finally let go. 

Both physically, and emotionally. 

“I really like him, Mikey, and I’m pretty sure he likes me too but I just…” She took a breath, her eyes drifting towards the tank beside them. “I’m scared… I… I’m scared that if I let him in he's one day going to realise that he’s made a mistake.”

“Have you talked to him about any of this?” Mike asked, his voice soft as he tried his hardest not to openly show his sympathy, as he knew Melanie hated being pitied. 

“No,” Melanie said plainly, her blurring eyes remaining focused on a small clown fish that swam in circles beside her head. “And it’s going to stay that way as I’d like to keep what’s left of my dignity.”

“Even if it means repressing your feelings for him?” And going down for assault, Mike added mentally, as something told him Melanie didn’t need that added reminder right now. 

“Yes.” 

“Because that’s healthy,” He muttered, yet he was unsurprised to say the least. 

“It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be,” Melaine said, finally turning back to face him and wiping at her eyes. Again. God, they were really working her today, weren’t they? “There are other… factors involved here too, okay, it’s not just me.”

“Isn’t it?” Mike questioned doubtfully, his firm tone taking Melanie by surprise. But he couldn’t help it. He didn’t like seeing his sister so worked up over something so…stupid, honestly, “You’re saying this isn’t just you doing the exact same thing you always do when you want to avoid facing your feelings?” 

Melanie’s eyes narrowed almost angrily, “And what might that be?” 

“Making things more complicated for yourself... Imagining the worst possible scenario in your mind and simply sticking with it…” Mike said plainly, causing Melanie’s eyes to dart away from him, and totally not because he was right. “All because you don’t want to face the fact that what’s eating away inside of you might not be as bad as it seems.” 

“Okay, Dr Phil,” Melanie muttered sarcastically, as she couldn’t bring herself to answer properly. “When did you start giving lessons in psychology?” 

“When you started showing me you needed them.” 

“I do not.” 

“Don’t you? Cause from where I’m standing…”

“You’re sitting.” 

“From where I’m sitting, ” Mike corrected himself, annoyedly. “I can clearly see that the only reason you’re allowing yourself to suffer like this is because you’re afraid of what other people might think of you.” 

“I don’t care what they think of me,” Melanie spat, exhaling deeply again as God, she really didn’t know how to control her anger sometimes. “I care about what they think of him, alright, because like I said he’s…”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s respectable. I get it. And you’re worried you might damage his precious image…” Mike said, in such a condescending tone it caused Melanie to grit her teeth together. “But Mellie…” His tone then changed, growing softer and more brotherly, “Have you ever considered the possibility that maybe he doesn’t care about his image? And that maybe… The only thing he really cares about… is you?” 

When he put it like that, Melanie couldn’t ignore the sharp pain that pierced through her heart like an arrow at the sole idea of it. At the mere thought of herself being the one and only thing that Rafael Barba truly cared about. She’d considered it, of course she had, as the way he was with her… The way he acted around her…all flirty yet flustered, like a teenage girl around a cute boy, there was no doubt in her mind that he was crushing on her... Perhaps harder than she thought as it was only yesterday that he’d come running frantically into his bedroom at the sound of her screaming, having no clue, nor caring about whatever dangers might have lay beyond that door… not whilst she was behind it. He’d all but been ready to sacrifice himself to save her and if that didn’t scream I care about you then God knows what would. 

Even after it, when they’d been sitting on the couch and he’d been so gently tending to her wound, Melanie could see it. The way he touched her, so soft and so tender… The way he looked at her… The way he gazed at her, with such incredible fondness and such deep adoration in those glistening green eyes of his that she would be oblivious not to see it. It didn’t matter to her that he’d almost kissed her. That he’d almost allowed her to finally feel the caressing sensation of his lips on hers, Melanie could see, simply from the way he looked at her, that he was in love with her. 

Rafael was so madly in love with her and the worst part was… He’d never get to know that she loved him too, as no matter what… No matter how much it hurt to repress those feelings, there was nothing that her dad, or Carisi, or even Mike could say… that would ever convince her to admit that she did. 

<- Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 (coming soon) ->

tags: @the-nerd-dimension

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 8.5 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Aftercare

Summary: Aftercare with Crosshair

64.media.tumblr.com

Tags: 18+ smutty mcsmutterson, porn with plot, basically, all the good stuff

Warnings: Nothing really. Just two people takin' a shower.

Notes: Thank you, thank you everyone for letting me know your feels about IMWTO! I'm inspired, I've written out a few more chapter ideas and I'm very excited to keep going. I hope this little bridge chapter makes you feel as warm and fuzzy as I do re(rerere)reading all of your kind words. Enjoy!

Word Count: 800

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

Crosshair places his forehead against the cool durasteel of the fresher wall, letting the water run over him as he bathes in the smug satisfaction of a job well done. Ooooh that had been SWEET, watching you squirm for him, beg for him - especially after your little tantrum out there in front of the regs. 

His bratty princess. His beautiful, bashful, bratty princess. How you had screamed. He hopes the whole damn ship heard you cum for them, command be damned.

You’d deserved it too, after that little stunt. His smirk dims a bit, thinking back. Kriffing regs. 

He’d have to keep a closer eye on you than before - he didn’t want any of them getting the wrong idea, thinking that they stood ANY chance with his Princess. No way in any of the seven sith hells was he going to give them a shred of hope that maybe she would possibly look their-

Hands slide over his lower back, around his waist and up his chest. Warm breasts on his back. A nose nuzzled along his spine. 

“Thinking about me?”

Hm. There you are. 

“In a way.” He turns in your arms with a smirk, capturing your lips with his and pulling you against him. “Wondering if we need to keep you tied up from now on - keep you from causing any more trouble.”

You smile up at him, eyes dancing with tired mischief. “Do you really think that would work?”

He smirks. “I’d hope not.” He brings his hand up to your cheek, letting you lean into it, into him. Your eyes close as you sigh your bliss.

His beautiful, bashful Princess

“I believe you have something of mine,” he smirks down at your upturned face.

Your eyes half open in amusement. “Then come take it.”

He gently spins you around, one hand on your belly as the other pushes gently between your shoulder blades, making you bend into his palm. You gasp as he traces up your slit to the plug still nestled in you. With a satisfied hum he slides it out, taking care, moving slowly. He lets it drop in the corner of the shower stall before pulling you back against his chest, nuzzling into your hair.

“Better?”

You relax against him, sighing in relief. “Yes.”

You feel like you fit perfectly in his arms. “Did you enjoy it?”

There’s a smile in your voice. “Yes.”

He can’t help his smirk against your ear. “What you hoped for?”

“Hah. Better than.”

He kisses your head tenderly. “Good. Tell me more later.”

Arms still wrapped around you, he takes the soap from its nook and starts lathering up his hands. When there are plenty of suds, he puts back the bar and starts tracing up your arms, over your shoulders, down your back, bending you forward against the far wall to wash off everything below your waist. 

He’s never done this before - but he’s wanted to: taking his time with a lover. Anyone before you wasn’t around long enough, or just expected him to leave afterwards - they’d both gotten what they wanted, what more was there? But you’d asked him to stay that first night. You’d chosen him, given to him. 

So he felt safe giving this to you.

He pulls you back against him to rinse you off in the water, kissing you mid-shoulder in greeting. He reaches for the soap again, and you languidly turn around to face him, arms sliding up around his neck, your face relaxed and… mischievous? 

“If this is what happens when I’m bad, maybe I should flirt with regs more often.”

He frowns, eyes narrowing, pinches your ass cheek.

“Ow! I’m kidding, Crosshair, I’m kidding.” You give your best sorry eyes and his frown softens - damn you and your adorable, he can’t stay irritated. “Really. I won’t do it again,” you say solemnly, seriously - before your eyes light up with merriment again. “At least, not without permission.”

“Hmph. Good.” His clean hands find their way into your hair, rubbing more soap in to remove the day’s sweat. You hum under him in delight, leaning back into his touch, savoring the feeling. He brings you into the stream of water, watching the suds wash away, revealing clean breasts, curves, hips, hair- and the smiling, peaceful face of his Princess

For a moment, he can only watch, taking you in, his heart full of… something. Just… something.

If feels nice. 

As the last of the soap washes away, he runs his hands over you once more before pulling you close. He turns off the water, then looks down at you, eyes brooking no argument.

“Sleep in my bunk tonight.”

You smile. You kiss him slowly, gently, letting the softness seep into his soul before whispering against his lips.

“I’d love to.”

What up, tag list?

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[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Heeeey it's me, again and again lol 😂 I wanted to ask you , if you please , Somewhere Only We Know by Keane with Rebels!GregorxFreader 💚 Thank you again 💕

Hello lovely @griffedeloup

Thank you for another great request: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane

Love Keane, so I'm glad someone requested them. I hope you love my interpretation of the song.

Love oo

Somewhere Only We Know

Warnings: grief, angst, razed village, property damage, deforestation, kisses, promises, fear, trepidation, held at blaster point, kiss on the cheek. I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.

Italics - flashback

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Gregor stood on the barren land, remnants of what had used to stand in the spot he faced. Was he too late? His laughter was the only sound that echoed throughout the barren land. Even after all these years, he still struggled with brain injury. 

He walked up to the burnt patch of where your home used to stand. He slowly covered the ground, sweeping through the remnant rubble. The fire that had burned down your home was years old, but there was still the possibility of something of yours to be there. 

His eyes caught something shiny poking through the dirt, he knelt down brushing away the earth that seemed to be covering a jewel, he never expected to see again. 

He picked it up, brushing the ash, and years of dirt caked on the bracelet. 

“Cyare!”

“Gregor! Shhh!!!” She closed the door behind her as she sauntered over to him, shaking her head, although his eyes went to her hips and the way they swayed. 

He chuckled as he ran over and picked her up, spinning her in his arms, while he chuckled, “Sorry, I just couldn’t wait to see you.”

“You’re loveable” she giggled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Not as much as you are.” He chuckled with her, “Did I wake any of the kids you’re watching?”

“No. Thankfully. I just put them to bed too. You know it’s not easy running a daycare.”

His smile widened as he shifted his arms, keeping them wrapped around her thighs, “Just practice, cyare, for our own.”

“And who’s going to be having these children?” She smirked as her hand softly caressed his cheek, he tilted his head and pressed a kiss to her palm.

“Well … I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“Mmhmm”

“Don’t trust the words of a Commando?”

She simply leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, as her fingers played with his ear, “I always trust you.” She pressed another gentle kiss, amazed by his strength as one arm tightened around her thighs and his free hand went to the back of her head as he kept her her head pressed against his as he reciprocated the kiss, doing his best to hold back from kissing the way he wanted to, and failing.

She pulled back catching her breath, “You came to tell me something?”

“Yeah…” he panted as pressed his forehead against hers, as he gently lowered her back to the ground, he reached into one of his utility belt pockets and pulled out a cloth wrapped around an object. He gently placed it into her hand.

“What’s this?”

“A promise.”

Her eyes focused on the cloth slowly unwrapping it as the beskar bracelet sparkled brilliantly under the bright sun, she turned it in her hands as she saw an engraving, ‘Always with you’. 

“It’s beautiful.”

“Cyare, I … I can’t give you everything you deserve, I can’t even say when I’ll be back or for how long I will be by your side. I worked hard to earn this much beskar. It’s not a lot and maybe I’m overstepping but … I want to promise you, I’ll always come back for you. When the war is over, I want us to have a future together. To be with each other forever, to never leave one another. I want a family with you. A home. If that’s not …”

Before he could finish she cut him off with a kiss to his lips, wrapping her arms around his shoulder, holding him close, their tongues intertwining, a silent contract being written by each other. A promise for everything he said and more. 

Gregor looked at the bracelet, a tear sliding down his cheek as he gripped it tightly. He’d been too late. The war was over, the Empire was around and lawlessness was the reigning power in the outer rim planets. He promised he’d always be there. He’d come back. He was years too late, he failed you. 

He took in a shuddering breath, placing the bracelet on his wrist, it was a tight fit but he didn’t care. Not if it meant keeping you as close as possible.

“Gregor, we should go.” Rex didn’t want to interrupt Gregor’s moment, he deserved that much, but he was able to pick up in his HUD someone was coming. The sooner they moved away, the better. Wolffe was already feeling paranoid, after he saw the destruction of the village, granted it was something that happened a few years back, but it didn’t ease his mind. 

He stood up, wiping his tears, “There’s just one more place, I want to check out and then we can go.”

Rex let out a sigh, “All right, just hurry up. Wolffe and I will stay with the ship. Keep in radio contact.”

“Will do.” 

It’s been a long time since he thought about your spot.

It was a special place, his cyare would go to be alone with her thoughts. But it was also a  safe haven, it was a long shot, after all she wouldn’t have taken off her bracelet just because. If it was in that rubble, that means she … 

Gregor shook his head. No. He wasn’t going to go down that road, until he saw a body or bones or a grave, he wasn’t going to just write his cyare off. 

He headed to what had once been a luscious forest, he remembered there were trees as far as the eye could see, but now there was barely enough to cover two hectares. What exactly did the Empire do? Why did they raze this village to the ground, what could they possibly have that the Empire would want so badly? 

He pushed through the foliage to find the waterfall - - well what once used to be a waterfall, it was now a simple cliff face that had a trickle of what had used to flow so rapidly. He made his way down to the hidden cave, well not so hidden now. He turned on the light on his helmet as soon as he entered, scanning the area for signs of life. 

“Don’t move” her shaky voice echoed through the cave behind him. He closed his eyes, thanking every single deity he could think of, “I have a blaster pointed at your head.” She added.

“Cyare, I think we both know you can’t hit the side of a bantha,” he slowly turned, his hands raised high as he faced you. “Sorry, I’m late.”

Your heart clenched, your stomach dropped, that wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

“Who are you?”

He felt a pain in his heart, had you forgotten him? Were you angry he hadn’t made it back sooner?

“Cyare, it’s me, Gregor.”

You shook your head, your hand shaking as you tried to keep the blaster steady, “No. That’s not true. It’s impossible.”

“Cyare?” He slowly lifted his helmet, sure he didn’t look the same, he lost his hair, but he hoped you would still remember him. 

“My Gregor is dead. I … I was informed he died. I …”

His breath hitched in his throat, “That was a long time ago, sweetheart. I didn’t die … I got amnesia, and then I blew up. But …” he let out a laugh, he shook his head, “but I’m relatively fine. Slight brain damage.”

“How … how can I know …”

He pulled down his sleeve revealing the bracelet you thought you lost. 

“Where did you find that?”

“In the rubble of your old place”

“But I … I searched and searched …”

Gregor took it off his wrist slowly moving towards you, gently placing it on your wrist as your hand shook, “Well it’s back where it belongs. Cyare …” he gently took the blaster out of your hand, “let’s get out of here. We can leave this place, find somewhere we belong. Together.”

“What about the others?”

“The others?”

She let out a whistle, and a group of twenty, children, teenagers, young adults all huddled together. They looked tired, scared, malnourished.

“Then can come with us,” there wasn’t even a hesitation in Gregor’s voice. He waited years before he could see you again, he wasn’t going to wait another second before he could have you by his side again. 

You threw your arms around him and kissed his cheek, “Don’t ever leave me again.”

“Never, cyare. Never again.”

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

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[grippingbeskar]

I think angst is 🚕!?

#7 And #14 with female reader where (shes an old shield agent or something that gives her a background with guns) she goes behind Franks back and puts herself in harms way and is like ‘you’re a good person. good people deserve to be safe Frank!’ And then he gets all pissed like maybe something happened and she tries to justify herself by saying #14

— okay i LOVED this idea!! i swapped around the order because i felt like it flowed better so i hope thats okay, but here it is! also like i said before idk how well i do with angst in a short fic thing like this BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!!!

— prompts:

🍟 7. you’re a good person. good people deserve to be safe.

🍟 14. i was trying to do the right thing

— warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of dead, blood, fire.

[grippingbeskar’s 2k night out celebration!]

You’d thought you put this life behind you. All the fighting, doing other peoples bidding, the blood, the guns. You didn’t think there was anything that could pull you back in— until you’d met him.

Frank Castle was, in your opinion, desperate. For what, exactly, you weren’t even sure he knew, but whatever he was doing tonight, he couldn’t do it alone. You could tell from the last time you’d spoken that something big was going down tonight at the docks. You knew this, because he had specifically asked you to stay as far away as possible, even going as far as to buy you a train ticket 3 hours in the opposite direction.

The acts of a desperate man, if you ever saw it. There was no way in hell you were going to leave him, though. He had saved your life too many times for you to remember, so it was only fair you repaid the favour, even if he hadn’t asked for it. The idea of him facing this alone… whatever it was, you couldn’t think about it. If something had happened to him because you weren’t there— no. You wouldn’t think about it. Because you would be there. It was the right thing to do.

Running past the scattered corpses along the wharf, you don’t look before you sprint straight into the boat. It was already on fire, the bow engulfed in flames, but you’d seen the skull-sprayed vest disappear into the chaos just moments before. He was in here, alone.

Gunfire goes off to your left, and as you turn, the butt of a gun whacks into you from the right. Blood pours immediately, but you cling to consciousness long enough to take him out, a well placed shot to the temple sending him down. You still hear shots, and run through the doorway and down the stairs.

You see Frank, on his knees, hands tied behind his back, taking hits from every direction. Four men surround him taking turns, and as soon as you see one of them lay their hands on him, you fire. He drops and Franks head spins around, you sending two more shots off to drop another two bodies.

Frank gets to hit feet and head butts the last guy, knocking him out cold. Spitting out blood, he turns to you. Flames start licking at the sides of the doorway you ran through, and you quickly get behind Frank, using your knife to cut through the rope.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He yells over the crackling flames.

“Saving you! Move!” Franks arm goes over your shoulder and you both stagger through the remains of the boat, fighting your way back out onto the wharf. You have to half drag him out, and the pain in your head makes you both lean to one side.

Somehow, with Frank’s injuries and your eyes seeing double, you stumble out of the boat and to the end of the dock, grateful for the hard concrete underneath you. Catching your breath, you only have a second before Frank is hauling you to your feet, staring wide eye’d at the blood coming out of your head.

“I told you not to be here.” He keeps his hands on your shoulders, holding you upright.

“You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do.” He shakes his head, saying something you can’t hear. “You needed me! You were going to die in there!”

“That’s my goddamn problem! Why the hell would you run into that?!” You look over to the boat, now completely swallowed by orange and yellow.

“I was trying to do the right thing!” You shout, the volume making your head explode in sharp pain. You hiss, a hand coming to your head. For a second, you think it must be your own, but it’s bigger, and touches you with a gentleness you don’t even allow for yourself.

Frank holds your head, tucking your hair out of the way a little to see the wound. From his face, it’s not immediately dangerous, but the sheer amount of blood tells you it’s big enough to scar.

“You should of got on the damn train.” He says, hand still holding the side of your face.

“Was I supposed to just let you die? Let you walk in there and get yourself killed?” He doesn’t answer, she’s trained instead on the bruise you no doubt have forming on your jaw from a few nights ago.

“You weren’t supposed to put yourself in that fight. I needed you out of here—“

“Why? By the looks of it, you needed all the help you can get.”

“Because people like you don’t deserve to be dragged into the shit! I’m trying to protect you!” It doesn’t matter how loud you both yell at each other, or how badly your head screams at you to stop, neither of you step away from each other. You try to tell yourself it’s the adrenaline from what just happened keeping you close, almost clinging to one another. You don’t have the energy to work out it’s a lie just yet.

“What about people like you?” He scoffs, furrowing his eyebrows in a way that’s probably meant to be menacing, but just comes off as confused. “You have saved me more than I will ever be able to repay you for.”

“So what? You think you owe me or some shit? Slates clean. You can walk away.”

“No! That’s—“ You wince again, and with one hand on your head, Frank guides you away from the loud noise of the destroyed docks, ducking you underneath a half opening garage door. The barrier helps slightly, and all you can hear now is Franks heaving breath.

“Stop yelling. You’ll pass out.” You want to roll your eyes but you know it’ll only hurt you again.

“You’re a good person. Good people deserve to be safe.” It’s hardly there, just a whisper, but you know he hears it. “I came because you deserve someone like you.”

He goes to say something, but decides whatever it is cnat be said in words. Instead, he leans down, and you hold your breath. With your eyes suddenly closed, you feel his mouth, warm, against your forehead. You suck in a deep breath as he kisses you, before angling down further.

You don’t know why you want him to kiss you. You shouldn’t. He was infuriating— the reason you were doing all of this. It was bad. But him… he was good.

His nose brushes against yours. Your breath hitches. So light you think your half-concussed brain imagines it, his lips brush against yours. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe a purposeful tease. Either way, he pulls back, and your eyes manage to flutter open again.

Sirens suddenly blare outside, the echos sneaking in and shattering the tiniest bit of solitude— the first real moment you can remember in a long time.

“We need to go.” Frank pulls you towards the door, ducking you under it again, and never lets go of your hand.

[tarnishedxknight]

“Ashe, do you have a crush on Basch?”

Oh, Ashelia hadn't been prepared for that question at all. They had been having a nice, polite, innocuous conversation, for Ashe of course wished to stay on the good side of Basch's girlfriend. She'd made her best attempt at friendship with Wanda in the spirit of kindness and while also trying to maintain her friendship with Basch, but the woman always seemed just a little bit nervous around her. Was it because she used to be royalty? Was it because she knew Basch better than Wanda did, at least at the start of their relationship? That wasn't true now, she'd wager, but regardless, something had obviously not been quite right for a while now, and when Wanda came out with that particular question...

Oh no. Ashe immediately felt the prickly feeling of panic all over. What... should she say? If she was honest, Wanda might see her as a threat to their relationship and forbid Basch to even talk to her. Ashe didn't want to imagine her life without Basch, especially now that she'd lost the rest of her world as well. But if she lied, that was not exactly maintaining good faith with Wanda, was it?

But... the truth could also possibly reflect poorly on Basch, for if Ashe admitted her feelings for him, would Wanda assume they were reciprocated? Ashe knew they weren't, but right now, they absolutely couldn't be. Not as long as he was courting Wanda. The last thing she wanted was to sabotage her dear friend's relationship, even if she was deeply sad that she'd missed her chance with him because she'd taken too long to understand her own feelings. Basch deserved happiness, and Ashe could see that he had found it with Wanda. She didn't want to ruin that for him, regardless of her own feelings.

She is a mind-reader, though, is she not? Ashe reminded herself. Wanda had some very extraordinary abilities, she knew. Could she read her mind right now? Was she? If Wanda was reading her mind, and she lied...

"No..." Ashe said rather unconvincingly and after much hesitation. The feeling of panic intensified and she began to to fidget with her hands in her lap. No, it isn't right to lie... What would be best for Basch? To lie and be found out later, and then appear deceptive? Or to be truthful and reassure Wanda that there is nothing between us and have her potentially not believe me? "Um..." she said awkwardly. "It is very complicated..." she whispered. No, that makes it sound even worse! "I..." Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest now. "Yes, I do," she finally forced out in the quietest of voices, as though she expected to be immediately slapped across the face for it.

Her pale cheeks turned red. "There isn't anything between us," she immediately followed that up with. "There has never been. It would never have been permitted. But..." A few gasp-like breaths to catch her air before continuing... "I suppose... I have had tender feelings for him for many years, but I only realized that very recently." Was any of this helping? Or was she only digging herself and Basch deeper? "He is very happy with you, and I will do nothing to ruin that for him. For either of you," she said firmly. "And I doubt I could, anyway, for he has never seen me in that way." That hurt to say, but she believed it to be the truth.

She was trying her best not to go into a full-blown panic attack, and somewhat failing in that endeavor. Breathing like she'd just run a quick mile, another thought pushed her over the edge and had the room suddenly spinning around her... "Please do not tell him." Oh gods, what would she do if he found out?! "I could not bear for him to forever look upon me differently." And that wasn't the only terrible thought that entered her mind, either. "Are... are you cross with me?" she asked, wondering if she'd ruined any chance of staying in Basch's life by royally pissing off his girlfriend, no pun intended.

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

I walk into the venue and past the buffet table in the hallway. Straight into the ballroom. I cannot believe I'm here. My nerves are getting the best of me and my stomach is coiled in a knot. I need to find someone I know. I pass celebrities that don't know me and wonder if they will before the night is over. I'm not expecting crazy things to happen, I'm here for one thing only.

As I walk into the ballroom I noticed Evan instantly. He's on the dance floor with Neicy and they look like they are having so much fun. I saw him on TV, but seeing him in person in his navy blue suit is almost surreal. I'm watching him dance and I'm lost in a daydream about what's going to happen at home later when I hear a familiar voice. "Ahhh! Hey Lady!!" I turn my head in the direction of the voice and realize Evan's sister Michelle is headed my way. I move to meet her and we give each other a big hug.

"What a night you must be having! You look amazing, Chelle!!" I say beaming.

"Thank you!! You look amazing yourself!! Oh my God, it has been such an experience. I can hardly believe I'm here. Come sit down!!"

We head to the table and take a seat. I stop a minute to take in the atmosphere. So many faces you know you will never meet. All in the same room and in your realm of possibilities.

"How is Evan, is he disappointed?" I ask concerned.

"If he is, he is not showing it at all. He's having a blast." She answers

I slowly let air out of my lungs, relieved. "I'm so glad. He looked like he handled it well. He looked relaxed"

Suddenly I feel two strong arms wrap around my torso and a soft, familiar kiss is planted on my cheek. "Hey there, beautiful". Evan says in my ear.

I stand up and wrap my arms around him. "Hey handsome. I'm sorry you lost, but I am so, so proud of you sweetheart" he hugs me tighter. We stay embraced for a long while. When he lets go his eyes are soft and he kisses me. He pulls my chair out and I sit. Then he sits down, unbuttoning his jacket.

Evan, Chelle and I chat for awhile. We talk about the winners. Evan stays respectful. A flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

"Hey" I say. He looks at me. "You're an Emmy winner. You have a fucking Golden Globe, dude. Like, what?!!" He smiles and nods his head.

I kiss his forehead. "It's ok to be a little let down, but it seems like you are making up for it."

"I am having a great time. Even better now that you are here." He touches my cheek.

"I have to go find the little lady's room" Michelle gets up and leaves the table.

I stare at Evan until he feels it and turns his head to look at me. "What?" He says shyly.

I lean into his ear. "Want to be adventurous?" I whisper.

When I pull back I see his eyes are closed. They flutter open. "Here?" He says a bit hesitantly.

"Well, somewhere. I was about to take a walk and look around. I swear I saw a staircase when I walked in." I say.

"Was it corded off?"

"Not that I know of" I answer with a smirk.

"I don't know...." He cocks his head to the side in a bashful look.

"We can wait til we get home if you want" letting it drop. But, he doesn't.

The wheels are spinning. He's looking around. "It's not that I don't want to...."

"Listen, let me go look around and I will meet you at the buffet table. If it looks like there's no good place, then we can wait. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. Ok?"

He nods. Then blushes.

"Aren't you just adorable" I say as I get up.

I walk out into the hallway, past the buffet. This time in the other direction. I see the huge stairway approaching and I also see Neicy and her wife coming down the stairs.

We wave to each other and I run up the stairs.

"Congrats, lady!! You deserve it so much!!" I hug her.

"Thank you, sweetie!" She replies.

"What's up there?" I ask

"Oh, the ladies room was crowded and there's more bathrooms up there. There's another huge ballroom that's not occupied tonight" she answers.

I smile and nod my head. "Well, I'm gonna meet Ev at the buffet. See you around!!" We quickly hug again before I turn on my heels and head back the way I came.

"I see Evan standing in front of the buffet and he looks nervous" I approach him

"So uh, W-What's the verdict"

"Come with me." Is all I say as I put my hand out for him to take.

I lead him up the stairs.

We make it to the landing. The bathrooms are immediately to our left.

"The bathrooms?" He says anxiously

"No, sweetie. The ballroom. It's unoccupied"

I start to pull open the large wooden door, but it's heavy. Evan grabs it and opens it with ease. That realization makes me a little puddly between the legs.

We walk in and the door closes softly behind us. I switch on a light and it emblazes the entire room.

"Oh shit!" Evan quickly flicks it off. I chuckle.

"You ok? We don't have to do this" I smile softly at him.

I see his eyes flit up to the corner of the room. There's a bar area and a soft yellow light is casting just enough of a glow to see.

He takes my hand and starts leading me there.

"Perfect" I say.

To be continued....

the emmy's AU....

[pers-books]

Doctor Who fuels UNIT spin-off rumours with new picture hint

It's the question on every Doctor Who fan's mind - but could we be getting a UNIT spin-off?

BBC

By Morgan Cormack

Another day, another Doctor Who rumour to get chatting about - and this time around, it's the possibility of a UNIT spin-off that is getting us even more excited for the new era of the long-running sci-fi series.

As of late, the official Doctor Who Twitter account (which has rebranded as X) has been giving fans snippets of anticipated information regarding the upcoming season and 60th anniversary episodes.

Under the hashtag of #WhoSpy, the account has continued to build excitement around the run to come - with many a clue and mysterious picture leading fans to speculate about what's on the horizon.

Well, the latest picture to be shared on the account is of none other than a desk with a classified UNIT (the Unified Intelligence Taskforce) folder on top of it.

All the usual work desk items can be seen, including a mug, stationery and folders, but in and among the ordinary are some very specific clues.

Eagle-eyed fans have spotted a post-it note reading "Tuesday meeting @ 13.00" with some extension numbers scribbled on it, which has led fans to wonder whether the ominous date could tease a forthcoming Doctor Who social media post to come.

More importantly, though, some have started to draw conclusions about UNIT's potential involvement in the new season of Doctor Who.

Along with the very clear document hinting at UNIT's importance, many Whovians have wondered whether Petronella Osgood could be making a return to the series, especially with her iconic colourful scarf looking a lot like the umbrella atop the desk in the picture.

So, could Ingrid Oliver be back in Doctor Who or feature in a potential UNIT spin-off?

While there's been no word of Osgood's involvement just yet, we do know that a Whoniverse is on the cards when it comes to returning showrunner Russell T Davies's plans.

Back in January, Davies told GQ that "the spin-offs are ready", saying: "I always believed in spin-offs when I was there. I did Torchwood as a spin-off, The Sarah Jane Adventures as a spin-off."

Similarly, Pete McTighe, who's written various episodes of Doctor Who, also told RadioTimes.com exclusively: "I haven’t really been paying attention to the rumours about the spin-offs, but I think Doctor Who is a show that deserves to be a much, much bigger brand - which is obviously what they’re doing now."

But will UNIT be getting its own spin-off? Well, more recently, Doctor Who star Jemma Redgrave, who played the head of scientific research Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, said she knows nothing about a possible UNIT show during an appearance on Good Morning Britain.

While the fictional military organisation has appeared in Doctor Who, Torchwood and The Sarah Jane Adventures, there's been no confirmation about any UNIT-focused show just yet - but Redgrave did say they will be making an appearance in season 14, which is likely the source of the Twitter picture.

She said: "I don't know about a spin-off, but I have been back. I've done one episode in series 14 and it's such a wonderful thing to be part of that family. It was absolutely tremendous and to be part of Russell T Davies's vision is so exciting."