#so that left me with handcuffs as the only choice that made sense and would symbolically work

[thelastunison]

No longer yours to control

[thebutchersbitch]

Sorry if this goes against what you write I couldn't find like a request dos and don't thingy lol but I would love if you wrote about a reader who has to get chained up or locked up every night before they go to sleep because cooper cant trust you won't run away, but one day the restraints are loose or not locked (maybe he does it on purpose to test you) and you decide to stay put because you love him and then he rewards you 🫣

This story can be read alone or as Part Two of this one!! 😊

18+ only

Daddy kink/DDLG | Stockholm Syndrome | Breeding kink | Reader was kidnapped by Cooper months ago, taken from her home and husband, but has forgotten her former life entirely while under Cooper’s manipulation and control

Cooper’s jaw was tense as he pulled out of the driveway. He’d made a decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret. The consequences of the test he was currently giving you could be lethal to his entire world…and yet, he needed to test your loyalty to him. It wasn’t enough for Cooper to hear you profess with words your love for him. Words alone meant nothing; as a skilled liar, Cooper knew this all too well. He needed real, irrefutable proof that even when given the choice of escape, you’d still be waiting for him when he returned to the safe house.

It’s why he’d left the keys to your cuffs on the table at your side of the bed, where you could easily reach them. If he returned to the house that afternoon on his lunch break and you were still there…then at last, Cooper would have his answer. If however, you’d used the opportunity to escape, then his entire life would be in your hands. Either way, Cooper had to know what would happen if he tested you. He sighed deeply through his nose, lips pressed into a stern, flat line. He looked back at the house one last time before leaving, hoping his instincts about his little girl’s loyalty to him would prove correct…

The hours at the fire station passed by easily enough. When lunch time arrived, Cooper made an excuse to the men working under him about needing an extended break. Family stuff, he lied explained. Really, he needed to go check on his girl.

He packed up his lunch and brought it to the car with him. Cooper drove the few miles from the station to the safe house he kept you in, listening to a local news and weather report on the radio, taking a few distracted bites of his sandwich on the way.

When you heard Cooper’s car come to a stop outside the house, your heart rate kicked up a notch. The handcuffs he’d left you in were now sitting with the keys on your nightstand beside you. Unaware that you were being tested, you’d taken advantage of Cooper’s ‘mistake,’ in leaving the keys within your reach. This will finally prove it to him, you thought. Cooper would see that even with the ability to leave him, you’d choose to stay.

Cooper entered the house downstairs, listening. It was quiet…too quiet. Perhaps you were sleeping, Cooper wondered. Apprehension built within him as his fears you’d escaped multiplied. He passed the stairs quickly, his steps heavy down the carpeted hall that led to the bedroom. You smiled when Cooper’s boots became visible in the crack under the door. He seemed to pause, inhaling a deep breath before pulling back the door. Met with the sight of you sitting on the bed, Cooper felt a sense of peace sink over him. He swallowed the lump of nerves that had been building in his throat, leaning inside the doorway, smiling at his girl. “Hi baby,” he said, and in spite of hearing Cooper’s voice nearly every day for the past ten months, your cheeks still warmed bashfully.

He looked so goddamn handsome, so big, illuminated in the doorway with the hallway light behind him.

Cooper looked at the table beside you, and then your wrist. His test had been successful. You’d proven yourself just as beautifully broken as Cooper hoped you were. He’d never been more proud of his little girl.

“I took the cuffs off,” you said, a little worried. “I hope you’re not mad at me, Daddy.” Cooper shook his head.

“Far from it,” he replied softly. Cooper didn’t hesitate a second longer before taking three quick strides to the bed, and climbing on top of you. Your legs parted instinctively for him, the soft outline of your pussy puffy and warm as Cooper rubbed himself against you.

His kisses on your neck were tender, grateful. He needed this, even more than he’d thought. The knowledge that you were truly his had Cooper’s mind spinning in the best way, his body flooded with adrenaline and happiness. His cock was already stiff against your cunt; he reached between your bodies and undid his jeans, relieving some of the pressure. Cooper’s kisses traveled lower, between your breasts and down your belly. When his tongue traced the outline of your bellybutton, a little giggle shivered out of you. The giggle was quickly silenced and exchanged for a whimper when Cooper’s mouth latched over your pussy.

Any remaining tension in his mind melted away into the moist heat of your cunt. Cooper couldn’t think straight when his face was between your legs, your fingers tugging at his hair, his tongue buried in the soft folds of your pussy. All he could focus on was your sweet taste, the slick smearing across his cheeks as he nuzzled your folds. You rotated your hips side to side, seeking the end of Cooper’s nose to rub your clit against. He sucked fat, wet kisses onto your pussy, a filthy squelch following each.

His shoulders were nestled between your thighs, his chest and belly against the bed as he ate you. Cooper’s arms hooked around your upper legs, his fingers laced together on top of your belly, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm away from him no matter how hard you came. Pearly liquid oozed from your pussy in between Cooper’s lips, his mouth sealing over your cunt and lightly sucking. The pulsing pressure made your legs twitch, prompting Cooper to lock his arms even tighter across your belly, a proud smirk finding his lips as he realized how close you were.

“So good for me, baby,” Cooper hummed against your pussy, his words interspersed with little kisses and sucks. “Such a good little pussy…all pretty and puffy, just begging for Daddy to kiss it…” He spanked his palm lightly against your cunt, watching your pussy flinch and your tiny hole pucker.

Making you come was what Cooper lived for in this moment. Any time his face was between your legs, your pleasure was all that mattered to him, now more than ever. You’d done so well, proved yourself loyal to him in the most definitive way possible. You needed to be rewarded, to be shown exactly how much Cooper appreciated knowing that his little girl was truly, unquestionably his. Nothing existed beyond the space where Cooper’s face was nestled, his eyes closed in a drug-like satisfaction, your warm thighs acting as earmuffs to seal away the world around him.

Cooper ate you for an hour straight, without a single pause to rest his jaw or tongue. Your ass was sitting in a little puddle of your own juices by the time he was finished. He reached for his phone, pulling it from his pocket with slippery fingers. He cursed when he saw the time. “Have to get back,” he murmured, returning his phone to his pocket, popping his fingers in his mouth to clean them off. Cooper kissed your belly and lifted himself off the bed, stuffing his cock back in his jeans.

He slicked back his hair, wiping his wet chin on his sleeve. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” you told him in a small voice. Cooper nodded as he gently pulled your panties back up. “I know angel,” he said. “But I’ll be back tomorrow.” He winked up at you. “Promise.” Cooper reminded you to eat the lunch he’d brought you from the station, and to get plenty of rest while he was gone. You’d need it for tomorrow, he said. “Because tomorrow,” Cooper explained. “When Daddy gets home, he’s gonna put his dick where his tongue was for the past hour.” Cooper’s tone was darker, a sincerity in his voice that was thick with lust. “And I’m not gonna stop,” he continued. “Till I’ve put a baby inside you.”

Your lips parted in surprise. “Yeah,” Cooper nodded, sensing your confusion. “You’re going to make me a real daddy again, angel.” He leaned closer and cupped your cheek tenderly. “I know that I can trust you now,” Cooper said, an affectionate grin on his lips. “You won’t leave me. That means I can trust you to carry my children.” He sat down on the bed beside you. “Rachel is…” Cooper paused. “She won’t give me anymore kids. It’s fine, it’s her choice, but-.” Cooper sighed. “I want more. You’ll give them to me.” You felt a little dizzy, not just from coming so hard for an hour straight. Cooper’s plans for you had caught you off guard.

“Isn’t that right honey?” Cooper asked, but he wasn’t really asking at all. “You’ll make me a daddy as many times as I want, won’t you?” You nodded slowly, absorbing Cooper’s words. “We’ll deliver the babies here,” Cooper continued, matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry about safety-I’ll make sure it’s safe. I have the training. I can deliver our babies right here-.” Cooper patted the bed, a confident smile on his face. “Firefighters are trained to deliver babies on the job if necessary.” His voice was cheerful. “Did you know that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head ‘no,’ still processing Cooper’s plans for you. He rose from the bed once again, sighing contentedly as he headed for the door. “You’ll make an excellent mother,” Cooper told you. “Much better than mine. I know it.” He patted the doorframe on his way out. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

[thespiritssaidso]

OH SHIT-

Summary: Shawn forgor he handcuffed Lassiter to the bed

Notes: holy shit. As I type this, it has been literally not even an hour since I posted my last Shassie oneshot (Let Me Get That For You…) and now I’m writing this? Who am I?? Where was this when I needed to write CMC??

Warning ⚠️ much kissing + implied sex and kinks

Shawn leaned down from his position on top of Carlton, tracing his finger gently down the man’s back. He leaned in to whisper seductively into the man’s ear. “I’ll be right back.”

He looked like wanted to ask, but just shivered slightly under his touch. “Alright.”

Shawn smiled at him. God, Lassie was so sexy like this. Laying on his stomach with his hands cuffed to the bedpost, bare ass presented for the world to see? Hot. Of course, the only downside was his beautiful sternbush was hidden. Oh well, pros and cons.

He gently stood up, and walked out of the room. Shawn grinned to himself. That was such a power move, he should be proud of himself.

It had been a while since his boyfriend had a day off. So of course, Shawn wanted to try everything. Last night they had done blindfolding. This morning had been handcuffs.

Which made him wonder, why did Lassie just so happen to have a pair of police handcuffs lying around his house? It would’ve made sense if it had been the pair he takes everywhere with him, but this had come directly from underneath the nightstand. Of course, at the moment, it only turned him on. But now that he thought about it…

Shawn wandered into the bathroom, still deep in thought.

Maybe it was the same situation as the guns around his house? Lassie did have plenty of those lying around. Although some probably didn’t work, seeing as a choice few were civil war relics on display. Or did they work? He’d have to ask later, maybe after…

After… what?

Shawn blinked, looked down, and saw he was naked. Why was that? He’d done some pretty strange things before, but walking around naked wasn’t something he’d really do.

He looked around for clothes, and saw a set conveniently on the floor beside the sink. Without thinking, he reached down and grabbed them, putting them on leisurely. He also saw a pair that looked like something Carlton would wear, but it was sitting next to the shower. Weird.

Once he was dressed, his stomach started complaining. Might as well get something to eat, since he was all dressed and everything.

He quickly swiped Carlton’s wallet from their dining table — why had it been left there? Had his boyfriend been in a rush or something? — and walked out, on his way to get a smoothie.

~~~

SLAM

Lassiter jolted at the sound. Was someone coming in? He strained his ears. Nothing. Not even…

Not even the sound of Shawn padding around the house.

“…Shawn?”

Silence.

“I swear Shawn, if this is some sort of new kink you’re wanting to try out…”

Still silence.

Lassiter scooted up towards his hands, and sat upright. Well, as upright as he could, facing the headboard with his arm held to his chest, allowing the cuffs to hang loose from his wrists.

He strained his neck, looking over to the other side of the bed, and saw the key on the nightstand. He wanted to grab it, but some part in the back of his head told him Shawn would be back any minute, and would be disappointed to see Lassiter free of the cuffs.

So he sat there waiting for a bit longer, patiently waiting for Shawn to return. What was taking him so long?

It was when his arms started hurting a bit that he gave up. “Oh, screw it.”

Lassiter shuffled around, grabbing the headboard to keep himself steady. His legs got briefly tangled in the sheets. But one small tussle and they were free once more.

Hanging on tight, he reached one leg out to try and grab the keys with his foot. He fumbled a bit, grunting in frustration every time the key was knocked aside. And then one of the muscles in his toe spasmed, causing the key to fly off and onto the floor.

“Dammit!”

He lay there for what felt like hours, though in reality it was only 30 minutes. Lassiter could feel his hands growing numb from being held up for so long.

Finally finally finally, the front door opened once more. “Lassie?”

Lassiter was filled with relief. “Shawn!” And then almost immediately anger. “Spencer! Spencer I swear on my mothers if you don’t uncuff me from the damn bed right now-!”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Shawn had rushed in, realization apparent in his eyes. But he had something in his hands. Lassiter completely forgot what he was going to say next, and just stared at what Shawn was holding in disbelief.

“Did you go out for a smoothie while we were in the middle of sex?!”

Shawn froze, looking down at his drink. “…nnnno?” He lied, taking a sip.

They sat there in silence. Shawn, in an awkward way. Lassiter, in a seething anger way.

“…do you want a taste?”

“No, I want to get out of these damn cuffs!”

Shawn raised his hands up in defense. “Okay! Okay.” He looked at the nightstand where the key was sitting before. “Where’s the key?”

Lassiter blushed, and muttered, “I kicked it off.”

Shawn did a double take. “You what?”

He flushed and even deeper red. “I kicked it off the nightstand.”

A bubble of laughter came from Shawn. “You- why?”

“Well, I was trying to grab it with my feet so I could get myself out of this mess-”

Shawn stopped him. “Say no more, Carlytown. I’ll rescue you from this torment.” He leaned down and started looking for the key. It must have bounced under the bed when it fell.

“I knew we shouldn’t have used my cuffs.”

Again, Shawn couldn’t help the laugh that came out. “Oh really? That’s not what you were like earlier. You practically begged me to use these.”

“Oh, so you can remember that, but you can’t remember your boyfriend who you left buck-naked and handcuffed on the bed?”

Shawn just shook his head playfully, and stood up with the key in hand. “If I say I’m sorry, will you forgive me?”

Lassiter had to think real hard on that one. On one hand, he was still a little pissed. But on the other… well, how could he not forgive him, with a face like that?

“Yes. I forgive you Shawn.”

Leaning over, he quickly unlocked the cuffs. Lassiter pulled his hands back, massaging the wrists.

“Do you want an apology kiss?”

He rolled his eyes, but grinned. Shawn took that as a sign to pucker up and lean in. He eagerly met him in the middle, leaning further and further in until Shawn had been pushed onto his back with Lassiter on top.

“You better take those clothes off, Spencer. I don’t want to have to fuck you through your shitty denim jeans.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice, Lassiekins.”

—————

Notes: damn. I don’t know if you guys could tell, but this short story has been brought to you by a hella aroace person.

AO3 link

@aba-daba-dooo @birdyboylassie

[theherosvillain]

3: The truth catches up

Previous - Masterpost - Next

CWs: kidnapped, captivity

Untying knots using telekinesis was a huge pain in the ass. Lock picking was hard, too, but it was a lot more precise than pushing and pulling at bits of rope I couldn’t even see. I kept my eyes shut to stave off the headache as I worked on the knots, wishing I still had my knife on me. Of course, if Amoret hadn’t taken it last night, then Vale definitely would have, but that didn’t stop me from cursing Amoret’s name as I attempted to untie my hands. At least she’d had the decency to use handcuffs on me.

Finally, the ropes came loose, and it was a lot easier to untie everything else. I took stock of the room as I stretched my stiff, achy limbs: windowless and empty, with only two tiny vents in the ceiling. The door, of course, was locked.

I used my powers to poke around in the lock, jiggling the pins until they clicked. By the time I was done, I was getting suspicious of how long Vale had left me alone. Come to think of it, it was suspicious that he’d left me alone at all. This had to be a trap.

I waited for a moment, listening, but I didn’t hear anything outside. Slowly, I opened the door. The hallway outside was deserted. To my left was a clearly visible dead end; to my right, the hallway continued on.

Well, that was an easy enough decision.

Cautiously, I began walking, but I didn’t hear or sense anyone coming. The silence only made me warier. This had to be a trap, I just couldn’t figure out …

I turned a corner and froze, my stomach sinking as I saw Vale standing in the center of the hallway, waiting for me.

“You’re quite the escape artist,” he said, looking mildly impressed. “That only took about half an hour.”

Anger sparked in my chest. “So this was a test.”

“And you passed,” he said.

“I don’t suppose that means you’ll let me go.” I tried to keep the note of hopefulness out of my tone.

He didn’t seem to think the notion was worth entertaining. “Come with me,” he said, and he turned and began walking.

My first instinct was to push past him and run. There were no henchmen in sight, and that wouldn’t last long if I tried anything, but I’d rather put up a fight than play along. Sensing my hesitation, Vale glanced at me over his shoulder. “I suggest you cooperate, Phantom. You’re in no condition to go looking for another fight, and you’re not getting out of here on your own.”

My eyes narrowed. Of course, being my captor, he would discourage me from trying to escape. But my body ached, and my powers weren’t fully functional. My time was running out, but even I had to admit that trying to escape right in front of Vale was a dumb idea.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to be patient. Once I was alone again, I’d search for an escape route. For now, I could bide my time and play his little game.

A smirk ghosted across Vale’s face as he turned away again. “That’s what I thought.” He resumed walking.

My face reddened, but with little other choice, I followed along. The place was eerily quiet, our footsteps echoing in the halls. I assumed, from all the concrete and the lack of windows, that this was underground somewhere. I couldn’t be sure yet, but it would explain the lack of henchmen—if there weren’t many exits, there wasn’t any need to have Vale’s men on standby.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Vale said, startling me out of my thoughts. “What happened to you last night?”

“Besides you kidnapping me?” I muttered.

He cast me a disapproving look. “What happened before I found you last night?”

My bruises ached as I recalled my fight with Amoret—and I flinched as, suddenly, I remembered what she’d told me. Last night should have been a victory. Amoret confessed to everything I accused her of—including framing my own mother for her crimes. That was always my theory, and I’d spent months chasing Amoret down to prove it. But the satisfaction was overshadowed by the revelation that she was my birth mother.

I hadn’t decided yet whether I believed her, but the possibility of it made my stomach lurch with disgust. I never thought I’d learn anything about my birth parents, and I really didn’t want one of them to be Amoret. My birth mother putting the woman who raised me in prison? How fucked up was that? And it might explain Amoret’s interest in me, but …

“Phantom?” Vale’s voice snapped me back to reality.

I cleared my throat and shoved down all the messy, complicated thoughts. “Just my usual shenanigans,” I replied, my voice slightly strangled.

He raised an eyebrow. “Your usual activities wouldn’t leave you without your powers. I want to know who did that to you.” Before I could come up with an evasive enough response, Vale stopped and opened a door, gesturing for me to go inside.

The room turned out to be a spacious, utilitarian-looking office. Vale waved me towards the lone chair stationed in front of the large desk as he shut the door. Reluctantly, I sat down. With all the filing cabinets and the fluorescent lighting, it felt eerily similar to being in the principal’s office. (The chairs in the principal’s office are a lot more comfortable, just for the record.)

Vale sat behind the desk, and it was a relief to have the physical barrier between us, even if it did nothing to hide me from his piercing gaze. “I suggested that you cooperate, Phantom, and that means answering my questions. Who was it?”

I exhaled slowly. I didn’t want to talk about last night, but I should at least give him the illusion that I was cooperating. “Fine. It was Amoret.”

He didn’t look surprised. He was well acquainted with Amoret; I assumed he knew she was keeping an eye on me. “And what did she want with you?”

“Same thing as you,” I muttered. He raised an eyebrow, and I reluctantly elaborated, even though I thought it was self-explanatory. “She asked me to be her apprentice. I declined.” Which was a very nice way of saying that I beat her up and ran. Then I added, under my breath, “Because the last time she had an apprentice worked out so well.”

Vale frowned. “Amoret has never had an apprentice.”

I stared at him for a moment, the gears turning in my head. “Oh. You don’t know?” I’d assumed that Amoret gave Vale some important information, given that they were … lovers, or whatever. But maybe she didn’t talk to him about her work. Maybe I could ruin this for her.

As expected, Vale’s eyes narrowed. “Know what?”

“Amoret is a spy for the Hero League.”

His expression didn’t change. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He knew? Maybe Amoret wasn’t as good of a spy as I’d given her credit for. Or maybe she had some kind of agenda with Vale, but that wasn’t my problem. If that wasn’t enough to ruin her relationship with Vale, I had other secrets of hers. “She’s a shapeshifter,” I said bluntly. “She’s taken on multiple identities to frame people for the League.”

Vale raised his eyebrows, looking unconvinced. “That is a bold claim,” he said, “given that shapeshifters don’t exist.”

“Not officially.” I crossed my arms and leaned back in the chair. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask her yourself. Vivienne is pretty honest once she’s been caught.”

Suddenly, Vale became very still, an odd expression crossing his face. “What did you just call her?”

I straightened in my chair. That was the reaction I’d been looking for, but the timing was off. He didn’t believe that she was a shapeshifter, but suddenly her name interested him? “Vivienne Thorn,” I said slowly. “That’s her real name.”

Vale scrutinized me for a long moment. The intent expression on his face gave me the sense that I seriously miscalculated something here—I just couldn’t figure out what it was. But then, just as suddenly, Vale’s expression smoothed over, and he stood from his chair. “I think I will ask her myself. I’d like to hear what she has to say.” He strode by me on his way to the door. “Someone will be by to collect you shortly.”

I stared at him. “Wait, you’re just leaving me here?” I blurted out, and immediately regretted it. This could’ve been a golden opportunity for me, but Vale wasn’t a fool. He wouldn’t leave me alone if he thought I could escape—which didn’t bode well for my chances, but I tried to push that thought aside.

He glanced back at me, his hand already on the doorknob. “I’m sure you’ll try to escape,” he said, his expression impassive. “I’ll be interested to see how far you get.” With that, he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

For a few minutes, I just stared at the door. He wasn’t worried at all, and it pissed me off and worried me. Was he underestimating me, or was he just that confident in his own defenses? It occurred to me that this could be another test. Was he really leaving to speak with Amoret, or did he just want me to think that? He expected me to attempt an escape; he said so himself.

I shook my head as I stood from the chair. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to sit here and wait for someone to come for me. This was probably my last chance to escape; I had to take it. I squared my shoulders, mustering up all the villainly over-confidence that had somehow gotten me this far, and headed out to look for an exit.

-

Title credits: Irresistible by Fall Out Boy

Tag list: ask me if you wanna be tagged in updates!

[reggieslocket]

prepare yourselves because i'm going to give you a bunch of reasons and hints that will show you the high chance of eddie being actually gay and him and steve becoming a thing >:)

1. "freak" as a queercoded word

let's start with the scene where dustin, robin, steve and max find eddie in the house where he was hiding and particularly on the dialogue between the five of them

there's this scene where eddie says something about how the people in town are getting ready to hunt him because they think he's guilty and he says "hunt the freak right?" and we see robin giving him an almost sad but understating look before replying "exactly" and i find it curios that they made her respond that out of everyone, i feel like it could be because she kind of relates to eddie's situation? she also would probably be considered a freak by people if they knew about her sexuality and that's why i believe the word has a queercoded meaning, if you think about it, "freak" was already used in the past seasons when bullies made fun of will, who also happens to be a queercoded character (even though we know he's coming out this season)

2. the handkerchief code

the handkerchief code gained popularity in the 70s and later on in the 80s and it was used especially by gay men to let others know their sexual preferences and fetishes. there were different and specific meanings depending on the color of your handkerchief and where you decided to put it (left pocket or right pocket)

now if you watch closely eddie can be seen wearing a black hanky in his left pocket throughout the seven episodes and of course these little details have their own meaning, in fact the black one was used to indicate S&M (sadomasochism) and as mentioned before the fact that it is placed in his left pocket isn't casual because that placement indicated that the person wearing it was a top (the dominant one in bed) while if you put it in your right pocket it meant you were a bottom (the submissive one)

this whole hanky thing made quite sense for me except for the fact that it was hard to believe that eddie is into sadomasochism but then rewatching the show a few days ago i noticed some handcuffs in his room and i found it weird because honestly what is a 20 year old man doing with those? he's not a cop or anything and so the fact that they are in his room is a bit strange for me... i just hope that the choice of making eddie wear the handkerchief isn't casual but a powerful move by the duffer brothers in order to hint at his sexuality

3. joe and joseph's interview

this interview really do be getting my hopes up. basically the interviewer asks joe what season one steve would think of his season four self and he replies with "surprised, approving... approval" WHILE looking and smiling at joseph who is also grinning, like there's no way they aren't hiding something and i hope it's the relationship between steve and eddie and steve's bisexuality. plus the fact that even maya is smiling while it seems like natalia is the only one able to be subtle about the whole thing lmao

then obviously there are steddie-antis saying that he would be approving of him and nancy getting back together but like... what should he be approving of? they were already a couple in season one so it wouldn't make much sense

4. gaten ships them as well

remember: if gaten ships it then it's canon

i love how the first couple that came to his mind is steddie and how proudly he says their names. he seemed so serious while saying it that it made me reflect on the fact that it's not that impossible seeing it happen and if not in season 4 maybe in season 5 since i read somewhere that luckily neither steve nor eddie are going to die in the last two episodes of this season (i don't know if it's true but let's hope so)

5. the chrissy-eddie thing

almost everyone who hates the fact that we headcanon eddie as gay will give the same explanation that he is clearly straight because he was flirting with chrissy and honestly i didn't see that as flirting at all, i just thought he was being really nice to her like he is to everyone. she was having a hard time and he was able to make her laugh and loosen up a little, i didn't find it as something romantic and furthermore who says that every interaction between a man a woman has to be romantic?

like friendship exists as well people?? and don't try and say "tHeRe cAn'T bE sO mAnY qUeEr cHaRaCtErS iN oNe sHoW, iT's nOt rEaLiStIc" like trust me it's more realistic having a group of only (or almost) queer people than one where everyone is straight and i know the show takes place in the 80s but gay people existed even then but they just couldn't openly say it so stfu

6. steve's attempts to find a girlfriend

we all know mama steve is trying his hardest to find a girlfriend but none of them really "suists" him right? what if eddie is the person that suits him? i mean it would be epic if he spent two seasons trying to find a girlfriend and then he ends up with a dude lol, i'd like to see bi steve happening so bad and i just know that robin would be super supportive of him and my boy dustin would be the happiest person on earth if his two dads got together

you can't tell me that they aren't developing a little crush on each other or that they don't care about each other, just look at eddie's face and his loving eyes in that scene and steve staring at eddie's lips for the whole time. i swear if they are really trying to get nancy and steve back together i'll start a riot because honestly they would be so forced, it wouldn't be good for both of their character development and also my boy jonathan doesn't deserve this, they made jancy dirty this season and i'm still pissed ugh

anyway if you read the whole thing ily and thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

[nobodyfamousposts]

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why...   ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well. 

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh. 

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it. 

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..." 

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

[jeanstapleton]

terry being taken down the way he did makes sense but that doesn’t make it good. that’s something a lot of ck fans don’t have a grasp on; that certain writing choices absolutely do fit the characters but don’t fit with an actual meaningful playout of the story. imo they should have stretched out the conflict into the sixth (& hopefully final) season, because i did like the re-introduction of terry revolving around his psychology.

him starting off as a one-dimensional satire of capitalism doesn’t mean that expanding upon his psychology automatically makes him a sympathetic figure. neither the fandom nor the writers themselves seem to understand this. both love to laud the show’s portrayal of the “gray areas of morality” & how no character is truly good or bad when the narrative doesn’t even allow them to mentally confront their trauma. its always physical. always barking tactics and showing flashbacks instead of having quiet moments where the characters are left alone with themselves. terry’s the only character who’s actually had brief (VERY brief) moments like these.

back to the original point, terry is a figure who should have succumbed to himself. one of the episode titles is literally “ouroboros”. he’s always been a being of devotion, to kreese and now to himself. his canon endgame doesn’t seem to actually have an end -- you make your way of karate the most popular in the world, and...what? you just assume everyone will share the ideals you’ve infected it with? its so cartoonish.

it ties back to my argument that he should not have bribed the referee. he should have won the tournament fair and square, so that he could continue to be an “effective” teacher who does what he does best: taking the worst aspects of a budding teenager’s fragile psyche and exacerbating them under the guise of self-actualization. this is what he knows, what he practices, and what he was taught by the american military. he accepts everything about himself except the fact that he is and always will be an extension of the military industrial complex, because that would in turn expose not a lack of autonomy -- because joining the army is a choice -- but precisely the reverse. you made the wrong choice, the worst choice, and there’s nothing you can do to rectify it. johnny, daniel, and chozen all made the wrong choices in their youth, but they were able to look inward and turn their lives around. meanwhile, terry would rather die than admit he built the cage and locked himself in it in the first place. its too humiliating. (more weight to the scene where kreese intimidates him! a cage of sexuality/lack thereof, a cage of carnage, a cage of white american vainglory, etc.)

the way this would play into his downfall would be the cobra kids actively choosing to turn against him, instead of a big exposure plot. the kids suffering mentally under his tutelage and learning on their own to look inward for change, to forgive themselves for making bad choices. the kids ultimately choosing to not be like him, to not become someone who chose an unforgivable path and eventually melted into its foundation. daniel had this revelation, and defeated terry the first time.

this happened to kreese, and he would have suffered the same fate eventually had he not played on terry’s love for him (which in and of itself only exists in the limbo of subtext, but terry having unrequited romantic feelings for kreese plays a huge part in this) while underestimating how deeply obsessive terry is as a way of compensating for his own emptiness. like the scene in hannibal where he tells will “im where you can always find me” while being put in handcuffs. do i think terry is genuinely in love with kreese? subtextually, and for the sake of this reading, yes. earnest human characteristics in truly reprehensible villains, once again, do not make them sympathetic. they merely show the universality of evil.

this would not only crush terry on the teaching front, because he’d genuinely believe he was a good teacher, but also on the legacy front. i actually like the base concept of terry being wistful about children, half because its another trait that makes him more human, and half because it defangs the sexual aspect of him being a child predator, since so many people are uncomfortably fixated on that for Certain Reasons. do army recruiters not prey on children?

more to the point, itd be a big paul-dano-riddler “AAARRGH IT WASNT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN LIKE THIS” moment where he, and his cage, fall in on themselves. his idea of love and enrichment was never that in the first place, and all he has is a legacy of failure. the snake succumbs to its own bite.

[dracowars]

sacrifice | anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin x jedi!reader

word count: 4,1k

summary: where y/n has to sacrifice everything in order to save anakin

a/n: i'm so proud of this, i hope you enjoy reading it <3 also i really want to write more for anakin (& other male sw characters), so feel free to send in requests!! ♡

warnings: angst, torture, violence, mentions of severe injuries

universe: star wars

Exhausted and plagued by a painful sting pulling through your whole body, you slowly flutter your eyes open which turns out to be difficult at first due to the bright light. Your limbs feel sore and incredibly weak, you can hardly feel your arms anymore and an uncomfortable tingling sensation runs through your legs. Your head is extremely heavy and the world around you rotates, getting faster in each second that passes and thus disenables your ability to think clearly.

Still blinded by the light, you narrow your eyes to at least be able to see something and as you do, your breath gets stuck in your lungs right away. Your gaze is directed at a black steel door with red and white switches and lights flashing on the right and on the left. A steel door which most likely allows no escape.

"Sir. The Jedi is conscious again", you hear the mechanical voice of a droid and you turn your head in its direction to your right. You see two Battle Droids next to you, one of them now aiming his weapon at you alarmed, the other standing at a control field.

Only now do you notice that you are much taller than these droids and you quickly discover why. Surround by a bluish light, you float in the air, your wrists and ankles chained in stuncuffs, making you unable to move even a tiny bit. You helplessly hang in the air, the tight handcuffs already painfully straining your skin.

"Do not let her out of your sight until I get there", you suddenly hear another voice through the comlink one of the droids is holding. A voice that unmistakably belongs to none other than the Supreme Commander of the Separatist Droid Army General Grievous himself.

However, there was something else in the background. Something that made your breath get stuck in your throat again.

Screams. Full of pain and suffer that can only be produced by incredible agony.

"Where should she even go?", one of the droids asks annoyed and gets hit on the back of his head by the other after his statement immediately.

"Don't ask, work."

Not saying a word, you try to shake your hands to maybe loosen the handcuffs a little, but to no avail.

"No chance, lady. You will not get out of here that easily", the Battle Droid laughs while the other joins in. Throwing them an angry look, they quickly stop and get back to their work, ignoring you.

Using the moment of silence to your advantage, you close your eyes and try to feel the Force that surrounds you so that it can guide you the way. Because of your severe headache you do not succeed, but you also do not give up instantly and at least try to concentrate enough to remember what exactly happened.

The terrifying image of a battlefield on Ryloth appears in your head, droids and clones brutally fighting each other. With your ignited lightsaber you run between them, giving the clones cover while taking down several Battle Droids and Droidekas with one slash of your elegant weapon.

"General Y/L/N! General Skywalker has just informed us that he has advanced further at the front and has almost reached Grievous", you hear Fives tell you in your blurred memories when you hide behind a tree to seek protection for the split of a second.

"Anakin", you softly breathe, not noticing that you said his name out loud, and your eyes shoot open when your memory cuts off all of a sudden.

All you remember is that you followed him after Fives' words, but you do not remember what happened after that and you do not know where Anakin is now or if he was even captured as well.

In any case, you are not allowed to think about it any further when the door in front of you opens and you are greeted with the shadow of a large robotic figure, two Magna Guards on either side of him.

"Grievous", you hiss disapprovingly when he comes up to you with slow, heavy steps, his face - if you can even call it that - at eye level with you. "I sould have guessed that only you would be able to carry out such primitive captures."

His smoky laugh sounds at your words, which is quickly interrupted by a subsequent cough. In the next second, however, he tightly grabs your neck with his mechanical hand all of a sudden and forces you to look into his fleshy eyes. The pressure on your throat causes tears to well up in your eyes.

"You have a very important piece of information that Count Dooku would love to have, General Y/L/N", he mentions and you try to hide that he is currently blocking your windpipe. "All methods are fine with me as long as I get what I want."

"And I suppose you will only let me go if I tell you this very important piece of information?", you state ironically and take a quick breath in as he releases his strong grip from you.

"That would make things much easier for both of us", Grievous agrees and looks at you intensely, almost expectantly. "Where do the Jedi keep the holocrons?"

"What do you want to do with it? Even if I told you, which I will definitely not do by the way, you could not open it anyway", you mockingly point out and raise an eyebrow.

A second later, you have to fight for air again.

"That is something you should not worry about", he aggressively snaps at you and squeezes his hand harder, making you gasp for air even more. "Tell me where they are kept."

"You could kill me and I would not tell you", you choke out and his creepy-looking eyes sparkle with anger.

"I will let it depend on that", Grievous states and lets go of you again, but with a subtle gesture he gives his Magna Guards a sign and they suddenly approach you, their dangerous electrostaffs now activated.

Shortly afterwards you already feel an incredibly terrible pain that makes you cry out loud. A painful electricity shoots through your entire body that would force you onto your knees if you were not currently chained to stuncuffs in the air. It only takes a few seconds, but it feels much longer until they stop their torture, staying in their position.

"Where. Are. The. Holocrons?", Grievous asks you again, this time more angry and somehow stressed, putting strong emphasis on each word.

"You would like to know, huh", you slightly grin and although you know that such a cheeky answer will cause you to suffer again, it rolls of your tongue anyway.

Again, several electric shocks run through you at the same time and an increasingly unbearable pain forms in your body, but your head remains unwavering when they stop again.

"Tell me where they are, Jedi scum! Now!", the merciless General shouts at you and you can sense how he is getting more and more impatient by each second. He will not stop torturing you until you tell him what he wants to know and until you stop holding it back, but you have sworn a vow to the Jedi Order that you can't and will not break, no matter how much pain you have to endure.

"I guess you have to kill me then, because I will never tell you, Grievous", you respond breathless and you can already smell how your skin, your flesh, has slightly charred because of the burns.

Giving his Magna Guards another command with a simple hand gesture, they continue to torture you, but this time they only shock you briefly with their bright purple electrostaffs before stopping abruptly. Your muscles still tremble from the impact and the unbearable ache persists.

"Uhm, Sir. I hate to interrupt you, but the other Jedi just managed to take down one of the droids", one of the droids next to you reports and you, although you only understood half of what he just said, too weak to focus, you immediately know who he must be talking about.

General Grievous must have already tried to squeeze something out of him, that is why you heard screams earlier.

"Anakin", you groan in pain as the Magna Guards go back to their task of torturing you out of nowhere and put you into a state of absolute pain.

"Interesting", you hear Grievous utter through your own screams as your body writhes in pain in the air, the handcuffs pressing deep into your skin. Until the pain suddenly fades and you fall to the hard ground in front of his feet the next moment when the droid freed you with the push of a button.

"Sir, is that not too risky?", one of the droids ask, but you can't even get up from the floor by yourself because you have been weakened so much by the electric shocks. You are not even sure anymore whether you might even have passed out at this point.

However, you quickly realize that you, in fact, are still conscious when you are roughly pulled to your feet, a firm grip on both your upper arms as the Magna Guards pull you up.

"She is so weak, she can hardly walk. And without her lightsaber she can't do much anyway. It was a fine addition to my collection", Grievous laughs in your ear devilishly, and a lateral push in your ribs makes you realize that you should move forward. Having no other choice, you obey and stumble forward on shaky legs, losing your balance with almost every step due to the fact that your hands are still tied together with stuncuffs.

Losing any sense of orientation, you get pushed forward right behind General Grievous, your vision blurred and your head continuing to spin until you finally come to a stop in a corridor that is no different from the previous one.

The door to another cell opens, at least you recognize the same sound as your cell door did before, and you are suddenly rudely pushed inside after Grievous has entered, meeting the hard and cold surface of the floor.

Trying your best to get up again, you notice that their dangerous weapons are no longer close to your body. Yet, you are prevented from doing anything at the sight in front of you after you managed to lift yourself up from the ground a little bit with your hands and looked up.

"Anakin!", you exhale in shock when you see your almost lifeless husband floating in front of you, the same handcuffs on him as on you, stunning him.

He immediately stirs when he hears your voice and lifts his head up, only to discover your trembling figure lying on the ground in front of him.

"What did you do to him?", you shout at Grievous with all your might and manage to fully get up due to the sudden adrenaline rush, but soon are shoved back onto the ground by Grievous and the Magna Guards pull you into a kneeling position by your arms.

"The same I did to you", General Grievous explains with a laugh and trudges back and forth between you and Anakin. "Verily, the will of a Jedi is strong, but I have already cracked the toughest will."

Admiring himself, his gaze slides on you and you immediately avoid the contact, looking at the ground.

"If you touch her even once, I swear you are already dead", Anakin angrily snaps at him, but Grievous does not even react to it, not even when Anakin manages to throw one of the Battle Droids against the wall in his anger with the tiniest movement. Grievous just stops in front of you and roughly lifts your chin up, indeed touching you.

"How many more electric shocks will she endure before her will breaks, what do you think?", Grievous asks into the room and you remove your chin from his grasp with all your leftover strength.

"J-Just leave her alone", Anakin mutters weakly and briefly looks at Grievous with a hateful expression before his muscles give up again and his head sinks down again in exhaustion.

"Tell me where the holocrons are and I will let her go", Grievous declares and turns to your husband, who is about to pass out.

"No! Don't listen to him, Anakin!", you interrupt him right away and try to, although you know that it will not be possible, to loosen your bonds, but the Magna Guards are quick to hold their electrostaffs threathingly close to your body again. "N-No matter what he does to me, you must not tell him- ouch!"

Feeling the burning imprint of the metal back of Grievous hand on your now throbbing cheek, the impact throws you to the ground and tears shoot into your eyes because of the sting, but you suppress them quickly.

"Well, if you do not want to talk, I know who will", Grievous threatens and you press your eyes shut in defeat to mentally prepare yourself for the torturing pain.

A pain that does not come.

At least not in the way you expected, because all of a sudden you hear something that is probably much worse for you than thousands of electrical particles shooting through your body.

They are shooting through Anakin right now.

Excruciating screams escape his throat and you have to watch how he is tortured, how his body winds in pain, how he slowly breaks apart.

You both expected that he would attack you.

"NO! Stop!", you yell at them and desperately shake at your bonds, tears flowing down your cheeks at the sight of the love of your life being hurt in front of your own eyes.

"Y/N-"

"Please stop! You will kill him!", you screech over his screams, but Grievous does not let his Magna Guards stop, rather he induces them to continue.

"Don't, Y/N. Do not tell- argh!", Anakin tries to tell you, but is interrupted by his pain and you can clearly feel how he is getting weaker by every second and how his strength and will are leaving him more and more.

With every further shock that electrifies his body and puts his muscles out of action, he groans in unbearable pain while thin billows of smoke are already emanating from his upper body. The skin on his neck and hands is reddish, a sign of an already severe burn. Yet the worst are still his inevitable screams that are fully soaked in suffer.

"The Jedi Archives!", you shout out loud while your tears keep streaming down your face, a feeling of guilt building up inside of you for just having betrayed the whole Jedi Order.

But you have no other choice.

"T-They are in the Jedi Archives!", you stutter out and General Grievous finally brings the torture to an end, but Anakin's body is now just lifelessly floating in the air.

"Well, that was not that hard, was it?", Grievous says, amused, and turns around to step out of the cell, his Magna Guards close behind him, leaving you alone. Before the door closes, however, one of the droids presses a button on the outside of the door, causing Anakin to fall to the ground with a loud thud.

"Anakin!", you cry out and quickly crawl over to him, his body still trembling as a result of the numerous shocks when you turn him on his back to get a better view of him and as soon as you touched him, you shortly get electrocuted as well.

"Do you hear me, Anakin? Please, please don't do this to me. Open your eyes!", you basically yell at him in his passed out condition and very carefully place your hands on each of his cheekbones, caressing them tenderly.

Lowering your head after he shows no reaction, your heavy sobs rock through your body and you whimper quietly, gasping for breath over and over again.

"I am so sorry", you sniff sadly and wipe your tears away with your hands, which are still tied together, before gently placing them back on his burning hot upper body.

"Y-You should not have- Should not have t-told him", Anakin utters all of a sudden and his eyes flutter open a tiny bit, weakness and pain covering his handsome face.

"W-What should I have done instead?", you desperately ask and can't help but feel a little bit relieved that he is able to talk to you despite his bad condition and despite the terrible torture method he just went through.

Seeking support and security, you grab his hands and he gently squeezes yours, trying to reassure you that he will be fine.

"That is- That is w-why it is forbidden- ugh forbidden for us to love and- and-", he groans as he tries to sit up, but he is too weak and even with your help, you do not manage to get him up so you gently lay him down again, his head in your lap.

"A-And to make us dependent on some- argh, damn! Someone", Anakin finishes his sentence anyway and if you did not know better, you could have sworn to see a small smirk scurry over his chapped lips.

"Ani, I betrayed the Council", you supress your crying and brush his brown locks out of his face while looking down at him with affection. "They are going to exclude me from the Jedi Order.."

"What are y-you even talking about? You s-saved me, babe. I will not let that happen", he hisses in pain, the last words nearly inaudible as his eyes slowly close again, his body becoming limp.

"We will not let that happen either", another voice suddenly speaks up and you look up startled, only to see Ahsoka standing in the hallway in front of your now opened cell.

"Ahsoka?", you mutter under your breath in disbelief and widen your eyes as she steps into the cell, not sure how much of your conversation she was able to hear. After all, nobody knows that you and Anakin are a thing, let alone married.

"Master!", Ahsoka breathes in shock and falls onto her knees next to you as she speechlessly takes in Anakin's fragile figure.

"I- They have-"

"It's okay, Y/N. Take it easy, slow breaths, in and out. We will get you out of here in no time", she affirms and gives you a gentle, encouraging smile before she quickly severes your and Anakin's cuffs with her green lightsaber. "Obi-Wan is chasing after Grievous and Captain Rex-"

"Master Tano, I found the lightsabers and am now on my way to the prison wing", Rex's voice interrupts Ahsoka through the comlink.

"Can you walk on your own?", she asks you concerned and helps you on your shaky legs, even though you nodded.

"I knew- I knew you would come, Snips", Anakin coughs out of nowhere, and you are not sure whether he is conscious or if the Force just allows him to feel what is happening around him right now.

"You always have to be bailed out, Skyguy", Ahsoka chuckles and at this moment Rex enters the cell with more clones, immediately handing you back your lightsaber, which you attach to your belt.

"Rex, please help me out over here", Ahsoka asks him and together they lift Anakin up from the ground and carry him out. Following them into the corridor in front of the cell, Fives quickly meets you and puts your arm around his shoulder to help you walk until you arrive in the hangar and get onto the Twilight.

They place Anakin in one of the small cabins and you let Fives guide you there as well. You sit down in front of your husband and do not let him out of your sight.

Holding back the sad and re-emerging tears that come up while looking at his distorted, unconsicous body, you bite down on your lower lip to prevent you from crying and take his rough flesh hand in your own. You gently stroke over the back of his hand with your thumb while the clone trooper medic puts an oxygen mask over his face.

It does not take long for Obi-Wan to join you in boarding the ship and as he does, he straightly goes to you when they start the Twilight and fly out of the hangar and into the vastness of space. When you feel his hand on your shoulder, you flinch.

"Sorry. How is he?", Obi-Wan asks you with great concern in his voice and face. After all, Anakin is like a son to him.

"The clone trooper medic said that he suffered severe burns and bruises, but apparently no permanent serious or consequential damage. Nevertheless, he urgently needs professional treatment when we arrive on the Negotiator", you sob and inconspicuously remove your hand from Anakin's to not let Obi-Wan see. "I have to- uhm I have to tell you something, Obi-Wan."

"I know. But better keep it to yourself a little bit longer for now until we report to the Council together, alright? Then you only have to tell it once", Obi-Wan calms you down and gives you warm smile.

"Thank you, master", you lower your head and turn your gaze back to Anakin, whose chest moves up and down regularly and whose breath is sounding through the room.

"Don't worry, Y/N. You did what everyone would have done and I am very grateful that you did so. We all have to make sacrifices at some point", he assures you before carefully patting your shoulder one more time and leaving the room, leaving you alone with Anakin again.

After you have finally arrived on the Negotiator, you do not leave Anakin's side when a few clones bring him to the medical bay, where the meddroids take professional care of him right away. While they are treating him, you wait outside, your body full of tension while nervously tapping the floor with your foot and playing with your fingers. They checked up on you as well, but because you were only briefly subjected to torture it only took them a few minutes to treat your wounds.

When the door finally opens automatically, you look up with hope in your eyes and stare at the medical droid expectantly.

"He is stable. You can see him now", the droid announces and guides you inside. At the sight that greets you, your heart stops beating for a moment.

There your husband lies, with cables connected to all the beeping machines, his eyes closed and his breathing light and regular. You unconsciously quicken your pace in order to get to his side faster. As soon as you stand next to him and neither say anything nor touch him, Anakin immediately opens his eyes as he senses you through the Force.

"Hi, beautiful", he weakly smiles at you and grabs your hand, causing you to directly surround his with your own, looking at him with worry, the load suddenly falling off your shoulders all at once.

"I was so worried about you. How are you?", you openly admit and gently run one of your hands through his messy but soft hair.

"You should not have done that, you know?", he clears his throat, ignoring your question as he feels the conflict within you, a serious expression while staring in your eyes. "I mean saving me. You have put yourself in danger. If something had happened to you.."

Tears well up in your eyes as you unintentionally review the recent events in your head, taking Anakin's words to heart, but you quickly catch yourself again.

"Anak-", you want to answer, but abruptly get interrupted when he pulls you into his strong arms out of nowhere, hugging you tightly like his life depends on it.

"Thank you for saving me, love", he softly whispers into your ear and you smile into the crook of his neck before he guides your face with his hand on your jaw right in front of his own. His blue eyes scan your face and then switch between your eyes and lips until he gently places his hand on the back of your head and leads you into a tender kiss.

Feeling his lips against yours suddenly feels so surreal to you. After everything that happened, you almost did not believe that it could still end, well, like this.

Leaning more into the kiss, he eventually breaks the kiss, just to place one gently between your eyebrows. His thumb softly runs over your cheek as he gives you a warm smile.

"I love you."

"I love you more. And I would always sacrifice everything for you", you return his smile and connect your lips again, feeling like nobody can harm you anymore.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

a/n: oof okay hello! this is a little different, i guess? but im very excited to share this with you! don’t ask me how i got the idea for this, no clue but it was stuck in my head for days before i finally gave in and started writing it. please share your thoughts and comments on it, i would love to read them!! hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

warning: violence, talks of drugs, murder, guns, i really lost track of it lol

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

The man in the handcuffs growls in pain again, but you just yank him forward, not in the mood to deal with a whining girl trapped in a six feet tall disgusting looking, oily-faced bald man in his forties.

“Y/N! What do we got today?” Jeremy greets you at the front desk, thumbs hooked into his belt as he watches you tug the guy into the hall of the station, pushing him down to the nearest seat as you step to Jeremy who is already handing you the paperwork.

“Dennis Delgado. Took me a few days to find him, but he couldn’t hide forever,” you grin proudly as you grab a pen and start filling the papers out.

Jeremy walks over to Dennis who just looks up at the officer in disgust. It’s not enough that he is a child molester disgusting prick, he is racist on top of everything and now Jeremy is enjoying having the higher ground, Dennis trapped in his handcuffs while Jeremy will be the one to get him behind bars for a long time.

“Nice one. We’ll have a lot of fun with this one,” Jeremy chuckles. “Want me to ring up your brother?”

“Is he in? Would love to have a word with him,” you nod smiling. When you’re done with the papers you hand them over to Stella, the receptionist who gets to work with them right away so you can get your money.

“Sure, I’ll get him for you on my way,” Jeremy nods, grabbing Dennis by his arm, pulling him along on his way to the elevators. “Come on you scumbag, you have a cell waiting with your name on it.”

The two of them disappear and you get into a little chit-chat with Stella while she is finishing up the paperwork. Leaning against the counter you look around, officers come and go in the hall, all of them dressed in their uniform and for a moment you picture yourself wearing the same outfit. At one point in your life it seemed to be part of your future, but now it would be the most ridiculous sight. Y/N, the best bounty hunter in the region in a police uniform? That’s not happening.

The elevator dings and your brother, Robert walks out. He on the other hand, made this vision happen. He has been an officer for about ten years now and though at first he was outraged that you chose the not so gracious lifestyle of a bounty hunter, but you soon became his unofficial partner, handing him over a wanted person every few days, making his work easier. Everyone at the station knows that Robert is the one who plays by the rules, doing everything according to the handbook, the perfect officer, always working to keep up the peace in town while you are… Well, you are a rebel. You could never play by the rules, always sneaking ways to do things according to your desires. You never liked if someone wanted to tell you what to do and how to do it, you are not a team player or either one that can easily managed by higher forces. It didn’t take long for you to realize your nature will never let you be an officer so you chose the other path that’s somewhere near joining the police, but still playing by your own rules.

Being a female bounty hunter wasn’t the easiest when you started off at the young age of seventeen. In desperate need of the extra money after the tragic passing of both your parents, the two of you had to get along on Robert’s slim, beginner paycheck. He was only twenty-three, started working at the station just a year prior, you knew you had to help him out. He kept bringing up cases, worked on them through the nights and when he passed you on the couch from exhaustion, you sneaked your way into the dining room and looked for easy targets. Speeding tickets, light drug trafficking, whatever you could deal with as a high schooler.

Robert hated the idea of you dealing with wanted people, you had endless fights about it, but you were too stubborn to stop and besides, you liked the adrenaline rush you got whenever you caught another one and brought them back to the station. Loved the stunned and shocked looks on the older officers when you managed to catch a bigger fish. It took Robert a few years to come to peace with your choice of lifestyle and now he doesn’t even try to talk you down. Instead, he keeps bringing you cases that pay well and he knows you’d like them.

“Who did you catch this time?” he grins at you, walking up to you and he envelopes you in a short hug.

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

“Poor Dennis, he’ll have a rough evening,” Robert chuckles. “Did you get your money?”

“Stella is already working on it,” you nod towards the lady behind you.

“Oh, I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” Stella pushes herself back from her desk and walks over to you with an envelope filled with your reward.

“Amazing, thank you, Stella,” you grin at her happily. Dennis was worth a little more than the usual, you are well covered for the rest of the month thanks to him.

“Do you have something coming next?” Robert asks, hands on his hips as he watches you put the money away into your backpack.

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

“An old friend,” he nods with a small smile. He reaches behind the counter and grabs a flyer, handing it over to you, a familiar face staring back at you from the photo this time.

Harry Styles is a name you’ve heard plenty of times and you know him well by now. You actually went to high school with him, you were just never in the same group. He was labeled as troubled all through his teenage years, his parents were brutally killed when he was just a kid, he was tossed around from one foster family to the other, moving around town every few months. It was no surprised when he got into some darker circles, he almost got kicked out of school right before graduation but somehow managed to stick around to get his diploma at the end.

You have actually handed him in a few times before. Never for anything bigger than drug trafficking or robbing smaller shops downtown, Harry is actually not as bad as people tend to portray him to be, he was just not blessed with the best background as most people. He is a smart guy and would never hurt anyone for real, this is why you are now staring down at his flyer shocked.

He is wanted for the murder of a local man who was found dead a few days ago in his home, Harry’s hair was found near the body with no other evidence.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask Robert with a concerned look. This doesn’t feel right. Not that you know Harry that well, but it’s very unlike him.

“Very much. His hair was the only thing we found near the body of Dave RIchards so evidently, he is our number one suspect.”

“I don’t know, this doesn’t sound right,” you think to yourself, staring down at the mug shot of him that was taken the last time you brought him in for selling weed to underage kids. You remember it exactly, because bringing Harry in is always… fun, if you could say that.

That last time, he was already expecting you, waiting around in his usual motel room that is somewhat considered as his home.

“My Y/N! You arrived earlier than I expected!” he greeted you when you kicked his door in. He was sitting in the middle of the double bed, rolling a joint as always, not a care in the world about your arrival.

“You knew I was coming?” you cocked your head to the side walking in and stopping at the end of the bed, watching him finish the joint and simply light it before taking a big puff.

“Of course. I was informed I’m on your list again, just thought you’d give me a few more hours, but it’s alright.” He waved around carelessly before holding out the joint in your way, offering you to try it.

“No thanks, I don’t trust your sketchy stuff.”

“That hurt!” he gasped dramatically, placing a hand to his tattooed chest that was partially on display since his shirts are never buttoned all the way up.

You brought him in that day, stopping for McDonald’s on your way to the station before handing him over to Robert. He was actually a great guy, nice sense of humor and good looks, you never thought otherwise, he was just moving around in different circles than you so you were left with the few jokes he always cracked when you took him in every few months.

“Well, it’s not your job to question his innocence. Want to take the job or not?” Robert asks you.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll find him,” you nod and fold the flyer, sliding it into your back pocket.

Normally, you take the rest of the day for yourself after turning someone in, but this situation with Harry just bugs you way more than to just go home and pretend like it’s not all you can think about. Harry is not a murderer, he would never randomly kill a man, he is not a psycho, just a guy with a rough background and some poor life decisions.

You know the route to the motel like the back of your hand. Arriving to the dodgy parking lot you park your car in the far end before taking one last look at the flyer. Then you push it into your backpack and get out, heading to Harry’s room with firm steps. You see no lights on, the door is closed and you almost don’t even get closer, thinking he is not here when you see someone move around inside.

You are almost at the door when a hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your body, pulling you back forcefully. It takes you a moment to recover from the shock as you are yanked backwards, but as you are being dragged towards the alleyway next to the motel you elbow your attacker in the stomach before kicking them in the knees. The hands fall from around you and turning around you pull out your pocket knife, ready to cut throats right away, but you are shocked to see Harry hunched over, groaning in pain as he holds his arm to his stomach.

“The fuck, Y/N?!” he growls, his chocolate curls falling forward, they’ve definitely gotten longer since the last time you saw him, he could easily put them up into a bun now. “What was that for?” he whispers in disbelief, his green eyes meeting yours in a scowl.

“What the fuck do you mean? You attacked me!”

“I didn’t attack you, I was trying to fucking save you!”

“From what?!”

“From the fucking asshole in my room who is four times bigger than you and would have probably shot you the moment you kicked my door in like you always fucking do!”

It’s just now processing in you that if Harry is here, the person you saw in the room can’t be him and he surely looked bulky. Harry runs his hand through his hair, straightening up from his hunched position before he sighs tiredly. He looks… worn-out, even more than he usually does. The dark circles under his eyes and beat-up knuckles are new, he usually looks fine despite everything that goes on in his life, but this is a version of him you haven’t seen. He has definitely been through some shit lately.

“What are you doin—“

“No time for questions now, we have to get out of here,” he cuts you off, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the alleyway to another parking lot on the other side of the motel. You spot his old jeep right away, but you yank your hand out of his hold, stopping in your tracks.

“Wait, my car is there!”

“We’ll come back for that later, but they can’t find you here with me or they’ll be after you as well,” he explains, grabbing your hand again as he pulls you towards the car and this time you follow him blindly.

You get into his jeep without even questioning it, not even caring that he is a man who is currently wanted for murder. Your instinct is telling you that you’re completely fine with him and you believe it. The two of you head out of town, taking the route to the next town nearby, but he takes a turn to the left, the jeep rolling onto a dirty road leading along fields filled with wildflowers. You have a guess where you’re going, there are some abandoned cabins near the woods that used to function as vacation homes, but they were slowly left to stand empty for eternity when a luxury resort was built on the other side of the woods.

“Care to tell me what the fuck just happened?” you ask him calmly, turning to look at him. He has one hand on the wheel, while his other elbow is resting on the armrest, fingers tapping on his chapped, pink lips.

“I’m in… deep shit, Y/N,” he admits with a sigh, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

“No shit, you killed someone?”

“I didn’t,” he states, his eyes meeting yours for a moment to emphasize his truth. “It was a fucking set up and now they are after me every way possible.”

“Who is? And what did you do to get into so much trouble?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we arrive, okay?”

You sit in silence for the rest of the ride until you finally arrive to the cabins. You follow Harry inside one of them and it seems like he has set his base up here a few days ago. There’s a double bed with blankets thrown over it and a few mismatched pillows, a sports bag with his clothes and a few grocery bags on the dusty kitchen counter, candles everywhere since there’s probably no power in the cabin. You wonder how long he has been camping out here.

“About a week ago I got a visit from Hugo McKain, you’ve heard about him?” he asks as he grabs a bottled water from one of the grocery bags and fills up two plastic cups, handing you one of them.

“Sure. I’ve heard that… he is a big fish,” you nod.

“Yeah. He wanted me to work for him, but I sincerely rejected the offer, however it didn’t sit well with him. He threatened me that if I’m not selling his stuff, then I won’t sell anyone else’s stuff,” he explains, walking over to the bed and he sits at the edge, staring at the cup in his hands. “He gave me another day to change my mind, but I said that I don’t want to get involved with any of the heavy shit he deals with. I was hoping he would just willing to forget about it, but apparently, he is not the kind to just let shit go,” he chuckles bitterly. “A few days ago he sent two of his men after me, but I was able to run away. I was ready to pack my shit up and just leave the state forever, but then the fucking asshole framed me for the murder of that guy. A friend called me to let me know that I’m the only suspect in the case and that my face has been sent out already everywhere in the state. Hugo made it impossible for me to leave, I would be caught the moment I stop to pump fucking gas in my car,” he growls in annoyance. “So it’s a whole shit show, the police and Hugo are after me and I’m fucking stuck here.”

You stand there at a complete loss of words, because though you have no evidence if he is telling you the truth, you just know he is and the situation is fucking miserable. Harry drinks his water and throws the cup into a plastic bag that serves as a trashcan, his fingers running through his hair nervously.

“Do you know who killed the guy?” you speak up after some silence.

“Yeah, one of his men called Axel, he is a proper idiot, I’m actually surprised he didn’t leave his DNA back, just mine,” Harry scoffs.

“If you know they are after you, what were you doing at the motel?” you ask, leaning against the wall, curiously eyeing him as he glances up at you.

“Knew you’d come after me, didn’t want them to pull you into this mess too.”

Your eyebrows rise at his words. He went back because of you? Harry notices your surprise, a smug smirk tugging on his lips.

“What? Couldn’t let them lay a finger on my Y/N, right?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. He has always been so flirty with you since day one, always trying to pull your leg, chatting your ears off in hopes that he can finally drag you to bed one day. But you never give in, it all stays just some empty flirting and a playful banter.

“So what are you going to do now?” you ask clearing your throat. There’s just always been something in the way he calls you his Y/N that makes you a tad bit nervous.

“That’s an excellent question to which… I have no answer,” he truthfully admits.

“You can’t hide here forever.”

“You tryna’ lure me into going to the station with you?” he asks with a grin. “To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t cuffed me yet. You love that stuff, don’t you?” Harry stands from the bed and strides over to you, the height difference between the two of you forcing you to tilt your head up a little as he smirks down at you, enjoying that he has successfully made you blush. “Question is, have you been the one in the cuffs?”

You part your lips with the intention of answering, but nothing comes out. Harry smirks down at you, so full of himself before stepping away.

“Anyway, I think I’m just gonna lay low here for a while and then hopefully I’ll be able to sneak out of town at one point.”

“You wanna stay here?” you ask looking around. The place is fine for just a few nomad days, but staying here for more seems impossible. There’s no electricity, probably no water, some of the windows are broken in, the temperature must drop drastically in the nights so close to the woods.

“Not that I have any other choices,” he huffs, opening a bag of chips from the groceries.

“Don’t you have any friends who can share their couch with you for a while?”

“You think anyone would want to hide a dude who is wanted for murder and who is also in trouble with Hugo McKain? Baby, even if any of my friends were willing to help, I wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t want to pull them into my shit. Besides, Hugo is probably already keeping tabs of all my friends, he has the connections to know everything about me.”

“And what about me?” you suddenly ask. Harry freezes, eyes flickering at you in confusion.

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

Now it’s his turn to rock a stunned expression, eyebrows shooting up as he stares back at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but truth is neither did you. However it doesn’t take him long to turn it into something entirely sexual.

“You know, if you wanted to see me in your bed, you should have just asked.”

Luckily, you don’t fall under his spell this time. Rolling your eyes you put the cup to the nearest surface and head to the door.

“Alright, changed my mind. Have fun camping out here on your own,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, but he is quick to get between you and the door, stopping you from leaving.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was just not expecting you to make that offer, alright?” You take a step back, folding your arms on your chest. “Were you serious about that?”

“It seemed like an option. I doubt you’d be expected to be at my place.”

“And you’d actually let me stay there?”

“I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt. Until you figure out what to do.”

Harry stares at you in awe, like you just did the best thing ever for him and the thought that he never had anyone to do such favor for him is kind of heartbreaking. He might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there’s just something in him.

You help him pack his stuff back into the jeep, leaving the weathered cabin empty again before you head back to town. Harry drops you off a few blocks from the motel so you can walk back to your car, you glance at his door just once, it’s still closed but they could easily still be there.

Harry is already at your place when you arrive to your building, waiting around in his jeep, he has put a beanie and sunglasses on, keeping his head low. As he follows you up to your little apartment, you actually realize that Harry is about to move in with you for the upcoming days, he is going to live in your place, you’ll share your home with him. How crazy does that sound?

Unlocking the door you walk into your small apartment. It’s just the perfect size for one person, a decent kitchen with a small dining table, a living room that also functions as your study, your desk filled with folders and flyers from previous works. Then you have a little bedroom and a bathroom opening from the living room. It’s cozy and homey, but definitely not the setting you would have ever imagined Harry in.

“So, the couch is a pull out, I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow, make yourself… home I guess,” you tell him walking into your bedroom to get him everything he needs. However, he is following you into the room, already snooping around in your private little space.

As you grab him a blanket and pillow, you find him inspecting your clutters on top of your dresser, your jewelry, perfumes and makeup stuff is just thrown out there, and he seemingly takes an interest in your rings.

“Never seen you wear any jewelry,” he huffs as you walk up to him.

“Don’t like them on me that much,” you admit. “Here,” you give them the bedding and usher him out of the bedroom before he gets way too adventurous and starts digging into your lingerie drawers.

When the pullout is all set up and Harry has settled in a little, you are faced with the fact once again, that Harry is in your home and about to spend the upcoming days here with you, since he can’t really roam around the streets.

You make sandwiches for the two of you and sit at the small dining table, eating in silence until you speak up.

“I can ask my brother to help find the guy who did it. There has to be a way to get you out of this.”

Harry glances at you, chewing on his food before putting the sandwich down, swallowing the bite.

“Not really if they don’t find evidence.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“We?” he smirks at you playfully, earning a blush from you again. You hate the effect he has on you, he is clearly a good-looking guy, you always thought that, even in high school. Thanks to his troubled name, girls easily fall for his bad guy behavior, they just never really saw that being a so called bad guy wasn’t just about the looks, with a slightly similar background you could imagine how hard it really was for him. Though he never really let it show. He is always this whitty, cocky bastard who is ready to flirt his way into your pants whenever the opportunity is given.

“If you keep up with the teasing you’ll find yourself on the street one morning,” you warn him and he just holds his hands up with a smug grin.

“You are the boss lady here,” she chuckles softly before returning to his sandwich.

For the rest of the evening you bury yourself into some other work stuff, you always have a few smaller gigs going on that are easy money, Harry in the meanwhile makes himself comfortable on the couch, watching your tiny TV in silence, letting you do your thing. It’s nearing midnight when you wrap it up and head to have a quick shower. Standing under the hot water you take a few minutes to collect your thoughts and just simply try to get used to the thought that you are in fact hiding a man who is wanted for murder. It’s going to be some pretty interesting days you have ahead of you, that is for sure.

Putting on your oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts you leave a clean towel on the counter for Harry in case he doesn’t have one before heading out.

“Towel is on the counter. Sorry, I don’t have shower gel for men, but the soap is unscented so feel free to use,” you tell him walking out, only to find him already waiting around the door, leaning against the wall. His eyes fall down the length of your uncovered leg, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“If you’re the kind who sleeps naked, feel free to get rid of the textile.”

“Are you a naked sleeper?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“I can be, if you want me to be,” he grins smugly and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Good night, Harry,” you sigh walking into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you, only allowing yourself to let out a shaky sigh when you are out of his sight. Leaning against the door you hear him shuffling around until the bathroom door closes and the water starts running. You try your best to ignore the thought of Harry currently in your shower naked as you climb to bed and pull the covers over your head. You need the coverage, hopefully it’ll help you with your wandering thoughts.

“Thought you’d deliver Styles by now,” Robert teases you when he meets you at the station the next day. You left Harry at your place, sincerely asking not to trash your home while you’re away and headed to the police station in hopes that your brother might be able to help him out.

“Uh, no. But actually, he is the reason why I’m here,” you tell him with a nervous chuckle.

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Can we please talk in your office?” you ask and he nods, leading you up to his office.

Once the two of you are settled and secluded from the rest of the officers, you just decide to start right in the middle and not waste your time beating around the bush.

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

Robert gives you a surprised look as he leans back in his seat on the other side of his desk. He thinks about your words furrowing his eyebrows before scratching his neck.

“How… do you know that?”

“I just know. He is being framed by Hugo McKain, it was one of his men who killed the guy, not Harry.”

“I have a feeling that your source about this was none other than Harry himself.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does, because of course he would try to defend himself!”

“Harry is not a murderer, Robert,” you snap. “He always owns up to his mistakes and he would never do anything to hurt others. Yes, he is troubled and did a lot of illegal shit in his life, but never anything that could hurt others. He became a target because he didn’t want to join Hugo.”

Robert stares at you for a while, probably trying to figure out whether he should believe you or not. You knew he’d be skeptical, but you can only hope he trusts you enough to help you out in this one case.

“And what do you expect me to do?” he asks after a while.

“He knows the name of the guy. Axel something, can you get someone on his case? Look into the evidence more? Something might come up that could help Harry out of this mess.”

Robert’s jaw clenches as he stares back at you, contemplating his choices but something is telling you he is already in. You won him over.

“I’ll have Jake look into it, I think I know who this Axel guy is.”

“Thank you, Robert!” you cheer in excitement. Jumping from your seat you go around his desk and hug him from behind, kissing his cheek as he tries to escape your embrace. He hates it when you get all affectionate at his work, but you just had to. You head to the door to get out of his hair before he changes his mind, but he stops you before you could leave.

“Y/N, just please be careful with Styles, okay?”

“He is not as bad as people make him sound.”

“I just don’t want him to get you into trouble. There’s only so much I can do to save your ass.” “Don’t worry,” you smile at him softly. “I’ll be alright.”

The rest of the day goes by with catching some stupid guy who was wanted for trying to rob a gas station while drunk, it’s a mystery how he was able to run away, you saw the security footage, the guy was barely standing on his feet, but lucky for you, he is in the exact same state when you surprise him at a bar and bring him in.

It’s past seven when you finally get home. Keying yourself into the apartment you are met with a quite pleasant sight. Harry has pushed the pullout in to make some space in the cramped living room and as you step inside, you are met with the sight of him doing pushups in the middle of the room, no shirt on, just a pair of loose shorts, all his tattoos are on display, a thin layer of sweat covering his body, his curls are held back with a headband. When he hears you arrive, his head shoots up and smirks in your way before doing a few more and then he stops, standing up just as you shut the front door.

“Welcome home, Honey,” he winks in your way and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Turning my living room into your personal gym, huh?”

“I can’t just sit around all day, waiting for you to get home, can I?”

“You can always just fix up my apartment while I’m gone,” you joke chuckling. Setting your bag down on your bed you join him in the kitchen where he is sipping on some water. “Anyway, I have good news for you. My brother said he’ll have one of his guys look into the case. I’m sure he’ll check after this Axel dude you mentioned.”

“That’s great! I’ve also been asking around today, some of my friends said they will try to dig up some dirt that might help me out, but I don’t want any of them to get too deep and then have Hugo go after them too.”

“It’ll be fine,” you nod, convinced that things will turn out well. “Alright, I’ll throw something together for dinner, what—“

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already ordered, should be here soon.”

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course. I won’t just eat your fridge out, dinners are on me while I’m here,” he smiles genuinely and you’re stunned by the gesture.

Half an hour later the two of you are sitting on the living room floor, Chinese takeout boxes littering the place around you, having a full on feast because Harry didn’t go light on the order.

“So, tell me, what have you been doing since high school?” he prompts the question. “I feel like I know you but I also don’t. Don’t get me wrong, being handcuffed by you every other month is fucking hot, but I don’t know much about you.”

“There’s not much to know,” you shrug. “I’ve been doing this since I was seventeen, no grandiose career.”

“But did you have any other plans before?”

“Thought about joining the police, but I was never tame enough to follow their rules.”

“Ooh, a little rebel?” he teases you and you throw a handful of napkins in his way, making him laugh.

“You can joke about it, but I’ve had my fair share of trouble as well, you are not the only one who’s been through some rough years.”

“I know that,” he nods, eyes getting serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“You know about them?” you ask in surprise. You didn’t really share it with anyone, talking about the loss of them just made it harder to deal with it and you also didn’t want everyone’s petty.

“You just know about this kind of stuff when you grow up in foster care. Though you were lucky your brother was already of age.”

“I know. I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here if I had to go into foster care.” Putting down the box from your hands you look at Harry. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”

“Not that it was any of your fault,” he smiles softly, but you can see the pain in his green eyes. Despite not knowing him well growing up, you always felt this weird urge to tell him how sorry you were for everything he had to deal with. He deserved a better childhood and teenage years and most importantly, respect from people. Everyone just labeled him as a lost case because of his background, but no one really tried to help him. Part of you feels guilty, because you could have helped through those years, but you were a little frightened from him as well, believing the rumors and talks about him, though now you know they were probably just stupid gossips.

Harry reaches into your box, stealing a dumpling and you snap on his hand, but he just pops it into his mouth grinning slyly.

“Hey! You have your own!” you tell him off.

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

“You are such a pest,” you roll your eyes at him as you grab your box and start eating again.

“So, what does your boyfriend think about me being here?” he asks out of nowhere, but you see through his act. It’s his sneaky way of trying to get you to say if you’re single or not, probably already knowing the answer to that, but you choose to pull his leg a little.

“He is fine. Though you might have to plug your ears in a little when he comes over,” you tell him with a straight face and see his fall, a stunned expression on his handsome face.

“Wait, really? You have a boyfriend and told him about me being here?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

It’s hard not to start laughing, especially when the words process and he realizes that you are in fact taken. The flirty, teasing act is long gone, he presses his lips together nodding to himself as he continues to eat in silence.

“I’m just fucking with you, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you tell him at last, finally letting out a laugh. His eyes snap up at you and a smirk slowly tugs at his lips as he points a finger at you.

“You had me for a hot minute. Nice one.”

“Why were you so surprised when I said I have a boyfriend?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“Guess the thought was just a little weird, I’ve never seen you with a guy before.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve never been with any,” you point out, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Oh, I know. I never thought you are pretending to be a nun,” he snorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasp, feeling like it was a subtle way to call you some sort of slut. Harry looks up at your upset expression and he immediately knows how his words were taken.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he defends himself.

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I meant that I always thought a girl as pretty as you must have plenty of guys after her.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at how bluntly he just called you pretty. It had a refreshing sound after all the shameless flirting he has been doing when it came to you, and your poor little heart immediately skipped a beat upon hearing his words.

“Well, I didn’t have,” you admit with a sad smile. You briefly dated a guy from another school in tenth grade, but after that, your life was just way too complicated to get involved in a relationship and you haven’t really been able to change that even years later. When you’re very keen on some intimacy you go to a nearby bar and just let whatever man to pick you up and have for the night, but that doesn’t happen too often either, because it seems useless most of the time, you can do the job yourself just fine too, you don’t need some random man to call you his babygirl when he doesn’t even know your name. Some never even bother to finish you, they pass out once they got what they wanted so you prefer being on your own.

“Fucking losers!” Harry huffs dramatically. “They have no idea what’s good.”

“You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better,” you roll your eyes at him, but you can feel yourself blushing.

“I’m not, I was always crushing on you a little in high school, if I’m being honest,” he admits truthfully, managing to surprise you once again.

“For real?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning his focus back to his food as he continues to talk. “Even thought about asking you out to prom one time. But I figured you might not even know who I am.”

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

“Are you telling me off for being humble?” he asks grinning. “Okay, let me rephrase it. I didn’t know if you wanted anything to do with me after hearing stuff about me, so I just dodged the idea.”

You chew on his words a little before looking up at him, eyes meeting his green irises, though you are usually not one to get in on the flirting, now you just feel like being a little blunt.

“Well, I always thought you were good-looking.”

“Were? Am I not good-looking anymore?” he teases with a dramatic gasp that makes you roll your eyes.

“Well, the smugness takes a bit away from it, if I’m being honest,” you tell him off making him laugh.

Once you both are well fed you clean the boxes up together, you wash the few extra plates you used while Harry dries them off and puts them away. Opening one of the cabinets he moves the door a bit, examining how it hangs a little low.

“I always forget to fix it up,” you sigh. There’s quite a few things that could use some work, but you just never get to start on them so they are always put aside.

You take your turns in the bathroom as usual and you sit at your desk a little, working on a few stuff before calling it a night. Harry is already lying in his temporary bed on the pullout, scrolling through his phone. The covers hide only half of his body, his naked, tattooed chest is on display, one of his arms is tucked under his head, the muscles on his arm flexing just right. He surely is a sight, you can’t deny that.

“Seeing something you like?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been caught staring. Clearing your throat you stack up the papers on your desk and head into your bedroom.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he calls after you before you click the door closed.

The next day you go with your usual routine, Robert checks in with you letting you know he already has someone on Harry’s case, so there’s not much you can do for now, only hope that something will surface that can help him out of this mess. Throughout the day you often catch yourself thinking about what Harry could be doing at home all day and you pray to all higher powers he is not currently snooping through your lingerie.

It’s a frustrating day, you couldn’t find the guy you’ve been after but you were really hoping to finally get the money for him. He is big money, but he makes you work for it certainly. When you arrive home Harry is nowhere to be seen, but then you hear the shower running so you figure he must have just been working out and is now taking a shower. Two pizza boxes are set on the dining table and you sigh in relief that you don’t have to think about cooking with him around. Going to the kitchen you are about to grab two plates when you notice that the cupboard door that’s been hanging low a little is now fixed. It’s as new as it never was since you’ve been living here and it gets you wondering if anything else has been taken care of. Going through the kitchen you start to realize that all the little things that’s been waiting to be fixed are now working perfectly: the handle on one of the drawers, the loose tap, the shelf that’s been crooked for a while, it’s all perfect now.

The bathroom door opens and Harry walks out wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his hair is wet and he has a towel hanging from around his neck.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you arrive,” he breathes out throwing the towel to the back of one of the chairs around the dining table.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago. Hey, did you fix my kitchen?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Uh, yeah. Took a look at the stuff that seemed off. Also fixed the shoe rack near the door and the hangers in the bathroom.”

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

“Didn’t you tell me to fix the place up while being here?” he teases you with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“That was just a joke.”

“I know,” he chuckles softly. “But I really didn’t have much to do today so I thought I might make myself useful.”

“That’s… actually very nice of you. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

“So how was your day?” Harry asks as the two of you are chewing on the pizza, sitting at the dining table.

“Why are you making small talk like we’re a married couple?” you scrunch your nose, taking another bite from your slice.

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“You can, it’s just you are usually not,” you point out.

“Or you are just never around when I decide to be nice,” he grins. “You usually just burst into my place, handcuff me and then bring me in. That doesn’t give much time to be nice.”

“I wouldn’t cuff you if you didn’t try to run away the first time I wanted to bring you in,” you retort shrugging.

“Okay, first of all, I was not expecting you to just kick my door in and have a fucking knife pointed at my throat, of course I tried to escape! And second, I quite enjoy being handcuffed by you, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

That smug smirk is back on his lips again and you wish you could just wipe it off sometimes. He is so full of himself!

“You are always coming with this cuffing thing. Get a hold of your kinks, Styles.”

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. I bet you’d like that, if you haven’t already been cuffed in the bedroom,” he snorts, taking a big bite, the sauce dripping a bit from the corner of his mouth that he wipes with the back of his hand.

“My kinks are none of your concerns,” you sternly reply, but it just makes his grin wider.

“Oh, so you do have kinks! Tell me more about them!”

“Well what are yours?” you retort, hoping it would shut him up, but it has the opposite effect on him. Leaning back he swallows the food in his mouth before starting the list.

“Well I do love getting handcuffed, I’m into spanking, both ways. I have a weird thing for—“

“Alright! I’ve heard enough!” you cut him off. “Stop, just… stop,” you breathe out.

“What?” Harry chuckles, clearly enjoying the situation more than you’d want him to. “Don’t tell me you’re too prude to talk about sex.”

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

“Okay, then tell me about your kinks!” he teases you some more. Snapping your eyes at him you can tell how much he is enjoying making you so uncomfortable, but you also know that he thinks he’ll just make you blush and you won’t tell him a thing. So you decide to give him his own medicine.

“I do in fact like to be handcuffed, I love a good spanking, when my ass cheeks turn red from the slaps, that makes me cum very hard. I love a good old choking and I particularly enjoy giving blowjobs because I don’t have a gagging reflex, makes men go fucking nuts when I have them down my throat to the last inch, I get off their reaction easily.”

Harry’s lips part as he stares at you with a stunned expression, he definitely did not expect that answer, or any answer at all. That face alone makes up for the slight anxiety that took over you talking about what you really enjoy in the bedroom. Your eyes wander down and a triumphant smirk tugs on your lips.

“Don’t be such a horny teenager, I can see your dick getting hard,” you tell him before flipping the pizza box closed and walking into the kitchen you put the remaining of it into the fridge.

“You are such a tease, Y/N,” he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “But it might backfire, because now I’m gonna get off thinking about spanking you,” he grins at you, but you just shrug, heading to the bathroom.

“Do whatever you want, fantasizing is free,” you tell him before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t think about him in the shower. As your hands move down your body, your fingers wander between your legs, gently playing with your clit while thinking about Harry spanking you. Knowing that he is kind of into the same things as you makes your fantasies even more vivid, but you don’t let yourself get off. You wouldn’t want him to hear you moan under the shower, he would tease you about it forever.

When you’re all done you step out of the bathroom only to get startled by Harry who is standing right at the door, wearing only his boxer briefs.

“Shit!” you gasp, snapping your hand to your chest.

“You took awfully long in there, Y/N,” he smirks at you, but you just roll your eyes at him. “If you ever need help washing you back, don’t be shy to ask me to join.”

“Keep dreaming,” you mumble under your breath as you walk past him and make your way into your bedroom.

“I already do that!” he calls after you before you shut the door closed.

Throwing yourself to your bed you take a deep breath closing your eyes. If he keeps up this act, you have no idea how you’re gonna survive having him around any longer.

Two days go by in the same manner. You spend most of the day out doing your usual stuff, you actually manage to catch another guy who was a small reward, but it’s more than nothing. Harry usually has dinner ready and waiting for you by the time you get back home. During these two days he has fixed up basically everything that wasn’t working in your apartment, freeing you from doing it yourself for probably twice as long as he did.

You sit and eat together, Harry usually tries to get under your skin with some more flirting that you return with a cold shoulder, but then, when you’re lying in the comfort of your bed or standing under the hot water in the shower, you always find your thoughts wandering off to the man on the other side of the door.

Ashamed to admit, but you’ve gotten yourself off once thinking about him. You woke up in the middle of the night from a quite hot dream that, of course, featured a shirtless Harry and you just couldn’t stop yourself from bringing you some relief. For a little while your hands weren’t yours, you imagined that Harry’s big, calloused and ring clad fingers were moving against your body and you needed every drop of self-control not to moan his name out as you came. You blame it on him being so comfortable shirtless around your place, he has been really making himself feel home. Not that you’re complaining, he is a sight for the eyes certainly, but it’s also giving you a hard time.

Robert soon asks you to swing by the station to discuss some details about Harry’s case. You can tell he couldn’t dig up anything helpful, he would have already mentioned it through the phone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anything that can be useful in further investigation.

“So, I’ve caught wind of Axel Morris being involved in the death of the victim, but we haven’t been able to recover any evidence that would point towards him, unfortunately,” Robert explains as the two of you sit in his office. “Didn’t want to bring him in for questioning either because then Hugo would find out we are after him.”

“So what can be done now?”

“I’m… really not sure, Y/N. If Axel doesn’t magically confesses the murder on tape, I’m not sure I can do anything to help Styles.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you’re trying hard to think of what to do. This can’t end like this, there has to be a way out for Harry…

“Look. I know you’re trying to cook up something to help Styles, but I’m not sure I can give you much time.”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a puzzled look.

“I mean that…” He glances at the door and then leans closer, speaking more quietly. “If I had a guess where he could be found, I would say he is at your place as we are speaking. I can’t let a guy walk free who is wanted for murder, Y/N. I eventually have to bring him back.”

“Alright, alright. Just give me a few more days. I’ll figure it out,” you plead, running your hand through your hair. Robert sighs, shaking his head.

“You have three days. That marks ten days since the warrant has been out. If you don’t bring me evidence by then, I’m sending the guys to your place to get him.”

“Three days, alright. I’ll… figure it out. Thanks, Robert,” you nod, leaving his office in a rush.

You have three days to find evidence against Axel and free Harry, but how do you even start? You’re good at what you do, but this is kind of out of your field and you’re not sure you can deal with it.

Walking around town you try to come up with an idea, but end up doing what you always do when you’re stuck on a case. Thanks to your work you’ve built up quite a web of connections, you always know someone who knows someone who is exactly the person you need. So sitting at a diner, munching on a late lunch you start calling your connections to see if you can dig up anything that could help.

A few hours later the situation becomes brighter and you finally have a somewhat useful plan so you head home to let Harry in on what you’ve come up with.

He is seemingly surprised when you arrive home earlier than the usual, he is sitting at the dining table, a bowl of instant noodles in front of him as he is watching some video on his phone. Like usually, he is only wearing a pair of sweatpants, his tattooed abdomen on full display.

“Oh, hi! Something happened?” he asks, concern showing in his eyes as he watches you kick your shoes off and storm into your bedroom, going straight to your wardrobe to dig up one particular outfit. “Y/N?” you hear him call out for you, his voice coming from your door.

“Yes! I knew I still had it!” you cheer in triumph as you hold up the latex set that clearly leaves very little to the imagination. When Harry sees it, his eyes go wide and his imagination probably gets wild for a moment, because he clears his throat as he looks at you puzzled.

“What do you need that for?”

“It’s part of my plan that will get us evidence against Axel Morris.”

“I’m not really following, so please elaborate?”

“I talked to Robert, he said we need to get him to confess. Now, I made a few phone calls and found out that our friend, Axel is a regular at this strip club called Siren. I’ll pretend to be a dancer and wrap him around my fingers and get him to confess while recording. You said it yourself, he is a real dumbass, I’m sure I can make it work.”

Harry stares at you frozen for a long moment before he lets out a heartfelt chuckle and now you’re the one confused about what’s really going on.

“S’cute you think I’m letting you close to that man. Funny, that was a good joke. Alright, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, walking back to the dinner table, but you chase after him.

“It’s not a joke, Harry. Pretty much our only chance to get you out of this mess!”

“You are not going anywhere near that guy and that’s not up for debate.”

“Not that you can tell me what to do!” you scoff at him.

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shakes his head sitting back to the table, stirring his pasta around with the spoon.

“I certainly know, and this is pretty much your only chance to save your ass, Harry.”

“Not if it means you go near Axel, nah,” he shakes his head calmly, as if it wasn’t even an argument and he had the right to grant you permission.

“Well, I’m doing it and you can’t do anything about that. I’m going in tomorrow. I know one of the dancers, she is helping me set it all up,” you shrug, your attitude meeting his careless one, but he doesn’t like your answer, not even a bit.

“Y/N, you are not going there!” he snaps, standing up, the chair falling back from the sudden movement. “That psycho killed a man or did you forget about that?!”

“Okay, so what’s your plan to save your ass? Because there’s literally no other choice,” you retort giving him a frown as you march back to your room and Harry follows you.

“But it won’t be you dressing up as a stripper, seducing a fucking murderer to get him to confess!”

“So then what is it going to be?!” you snap at him facing him again. “Because Robert gave me three days to sort things out before he comes here and takes you in himself!”

“Then I’ll go to jail! No big deal!” he throws his hands into the air like it was just a minor inconvenience and not a case of murder that could put him behind bars forever.

“Are you fucking insane?” you laugh in disbelief. “You’re willing to lose the rest of your life for what? Nothing at all?!”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. You are not getting yourself into this mess and it’s not up for debate.”

“You hold no control over me, Harry!” you scream at him at this point, fed up with his bullshit.

You find yourself pinned against the wall in a blink of the eye, Harry is pressed up against you, hands grabbing onto your forearms as he keeps you in place firmly, one of his thighs coming between your legs as his face is dangerously close to yours now. He knocks the air out of you for a moment and you stare back at him with parted lips for just a split second before your instincts kick in.

You easily knee him in the crotch, giving you just enough opportunity to grab one of his wrists and twist it behind his back, forcing him to get on the ground, growling in pain.

“Fuck! Y/N!” he groans, snapping his other hand against the hardwood floor. You give him another squeeze as a warning before letting him go and he falls to the ground for a moment before he pushes himself up to sit on his heels.

“You still think I can’t protect myself against a man?” you sneer at him walking over to the bed to grab the outfit that was tossed to the side in the hustle.

“Shit, I think you broke my dick!” he breathes out hunching over and you just smile to yourself as you hand the outfit up to the side of your wardrobe.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, you’re fine.”

“Don’t think so, might need a get-well kiss on it though,” he smirks through his painful expression and you roll your eyes at him. How is he still at it when you just kneeled him in his crotch? “Okay, your message came through very clear though, but I’m still not a fan of your plan,” he sighs finally standing up from the floor.

“It’s gonna be easy, I’ll get him a little drunk, offer him a private dance, make a move and get him to talk. If he really is that dumb like you said, I can easily get him to open up, just gotta make sure he is focusing on something else,” you explain gesturing towards the outfit on the hanger.

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

“This is what strippers wear, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“My problem is that it’s like… nonexistent. There’s no textile at all!” he rages, still eyeing the red latex set.

“Are you… jealous?” you ask, starting to get a feel of what’s really going on. Harry’s head snaps in your way and the look in his eyes answers your question even when he tries to hide his real reasons.

“Jealous of you becoming a stripper? I bet I can make more than you if I became one,” he scoffs smugly.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking jealous!” you laugh, enjoying this one in a million moment. “What’s next, you have feelings for me? Are you gonna confess your undying love?” you tease him.

“Okay, you had your laughs, that was enough. Excuse me if I’m looking out for you and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t get all smitten with me now. I’ve been doing just fine without you so far.”

“Yeah, how many people did you bring in for murder?” Harry questions and that leaves you without an answer. Not that you don’t know it, but because the number is exactly zero. You’ve been doing your job for quite a while and there’s been all kind of cases under your hands, but not murders. Though you are completely capable of defending yourself, you’re not sure you want to deal with monsters who took a human’s life. The only reason you took Harry’s case was because you had an inkling feeling from the very start that he did not do it.

“Just as I thought,” Harry scoffs. “Listen, if you really want to do this then I’m going with you. No way I’m gonna just sit around here and wait to see if you make it back home.”

“How do you plan on leaving the house? Someone might recognize you and then it’s game over.”

“I’ll just… disguise myself,” he shrugs. “Can’t be that hard.”

You never thought the day would come when you see Harry Styles wearing a fake mustache and a ridiculous wig, secured with a beanie to his head. The moment the two of you finish his disguise, you can’t hold your laughter back. He looks so damn ridiculous, you can barely breathe through your laughter as he checks himself out in the mirror.

“I look like a fucking pedophile,” he shakes his head chuckling as he pushes some fake hair out of his forehead. “Where the fuck did you find this wig?” he snaps at you in disbelief.

“Does it matter? You look so fucking bad!” you laugh hysterically and Harry just stands there, waiting for you to finally stop, but it seems like he is not bothered by your reaction. He probably finds it equally funny too.

It’s currently seven pm, you have to head to Siren soon to start your fake shift as a stripper and you haven’t been able to talk Harry down from following you, so there you are, getting ready to fool everyone around you. Harry with his awful disguise and you with your stripper outfit.

When you finally catch your breath you leave Harry in the living room to get ready as well. Following a heavy makeup with dark, smokey eyes, you also put on a wig, a short, red bob that’s part of the outfit. Then you squeeze yourself into the latex, the tiny top barely covering you, the skirt is not even a skirt, rather than just a belt. As an extra to the fit, you’ve put on a red corset, though it’s more so you can hide the voice recorder since the original outfit doesn’t give too many places to do that. You pair it all with fishnet tights and a pair of black, thigh-high boots. As you check yourself out in the mirror you don’t even recognize yourself. Y/N is officially gone, the girl in the boots is… Crystabel.

Opening the door you step out of your bedroom, Harry is standing in the middle of the living room, busy with his phone so at first he doesn’t even see you walk out.

“Ready to leave?” he asks, eyes still on the screen of his phone.

“I… guess?” you breathe out, feeling extremely self-conscious in this revealing set.

When Harry finally looks up his mouth drops open. He is not even trying to hide his hunger as his eyes rake down the length of your body. He takes his time to take in every inch of your exposed skin before his gaze settles on your eyes behind your long fake lashes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out and it gives you quite the confidence boost.

“You like it?” you ask, striking a pose as you push your hips to the side and place your hands on your waist.

“I-I’m… I’m fucking speechless,” he chuckles as you walk closer and grabbing the strings of his hoodie, you tug on the playfully while he is still shamelessly checking you out. “I don’t know how I could live this long without seeing you like this.”

“You are such a flirt,” you roll your eyes, but just as you are about to step away from him he grabs you by your waist and pulls you against him firmly. Your hands move to his broad shoulders right away, trying to keep your balance in his hold.

“I might be a flirt, but you are the hottest woman I’ve seen and I admit I will be fucking jealous of every man that’s gonna lay their eyes on you tonight.” His voice is low, full of lust and if it wasn’t for his funny disguise, you would have melted right into his arms in a heartbeat.

“I can’t take you seriously with this mustache on,” you chuckle softly, running your fingers over the fake facial hair, the pad of your fingers slightly touching his soft lips underneath.

“Just wait until we get back home and I get rid of it,” he smirks and winks at you, making you chuckle, but you can also feel yourself blushing at his words.

You put on a trench coat to cover the racy outfit as the two of you make your way to the club. Harry is driving, but you took your car in case someone might recognize him near the club. Arriving Harry parks at a darker corner in the parking lot and he pulls out a little box from his backpack.

“Alright, let’s wire you up, Love,” he smirks as you undo the coat and let him help you get the devices situated on you.

The voice recorder gets pushed into your stomach, hiding behind your corset. It’s thick enough that it doesn’t give away that anything is hidden under it, it’s just a little uncomfortable for you, but you are sucking it up.

“Here, put this into your ears,” Harry hands you an earpiece that you place into your right ear, hiding it with your wig. “It’s not the best quality, but you’ll be able to hear me and I’ll hear everything around you. We need a safe word if anything happens so I know I have to go inside.”

“This is starting to look like a spy movie or something,” you mumble under your breath as you start buttoning your coat again.

“Don’t turn it into a joke, Y/N. Axel might be a stupid jerk, but don’t forget he killed that man. He doesn’t care if you’re a woman or not, or if you’re a real stripper or not.”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh nodding. “How about… cherry?”

“Okay. Use it if you are in trouble or someone is hurting you or anything.” You nod, fidgeting with the end of the coat, but Harry grabs your hand and makes you look at him. “I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want you to play the hero.”

“I won’t, calm down. I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before getting out of the car and heading to the backdoor. Glancing back one last time you see Harry standing at the hood of the car, watching you intently as you disappear from his sight.

Sienna, who is helping you tonight is already waiting for you at the backdoor. You met her a few years ago when you caught her abusive ex and took him in. She said she owed you one for freeing her from that asshole and now you are finally here to collect that favor.

“Damn, you look good!” she grins, pulling you into a short hug.

“You think it’s gonna be alright?” you ask, pulling the coat open to show her the whole outfit.

“Fucking fantastic. No men will be able to focus on anything than your boobs,” she snorts, pulling you inside.

The plan is easy. You won’t be out all night, Sienna will be your eyes and when she spots Axel arrive, that’s when you come into the picture. Sienna will escort him to a secluded area and tell him he has a free lap dance which will be, of course, performed by you. Some flirting, some seducing and hopefully Axel will be dumb enough to let a some sort of confession slip.

Sienna takes you to the changing room and you stay in the corner, trying not to be in the way as you watch the girls get ready. There are ten girls in total, five of them are dancing tonight, the other five are servers, but they still dress like dancers. They all wear equally revealing outfits, just like you and as you watch them move around so confidently, you start to get more and more nervous. What if Axel figures out you’re not a real dancer right away? Or if he notices the recorder pushed into your stomach? This plan is definitely not the safest you’ve ever come up with, and you are starting to doubt yourself now that you are so deep in it.

“Y/N?” you hear Harry’s faint voice in your ear. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out and hearing his voice calms your nerves a little.

“Everything alright?” First you nod, but then you realize he can’t see you.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

“Very,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. Luckily, Harry doesn’t bring his usual cockiness out, feeling how serious the situation is.

“You can still come out and we can just go home. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to do this,” you firmly answer. “Just… talk to me a little. Please.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you about when I wanted to ask you out to prom,” you hear him start and you can’t push a smile down as you sit and wait, listening to his soothing voice. “You were wearing this pretty white sweater that day and tight jeans, you looked so fucking good, Y/N. I saw you walking to your locker and you smiled at some random guy and I was instantly jealous.”

“Really?” you ask quietly.

“O, yeah,” he chuckles. “I told you, I had a crush on you. So I thought about asking you out, wanted to just walk up to you and casually ask if you wanted to go with me. But then I just watched you and realized that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I just watched you get your books out of your locker and then you walked right past me, looked me in the eyes and I straight up felt my knees turn into jelly. Good thing I was leaning against the wall. You walked away and I never asked you out. Still regret that,” he admits and your heart flutters at his words.

As weird as it sounds, you remember that day. Especially because when your eyes met Harry’s you felt kind of the same. You felt intimidated and wondered why he was watching you so intently, but you would have never guessed he wanted to ask you out.

You see Sienna walking in, her eyes find you and you immediately know it’s show time.

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

“I would have said yes,” you tell him before you follow Sienna out and the blasting music pushes down Harry’s voice in your earpiece.

The bright lights of the back are switched to the dim, red lighting in the main bar area, a dancer is already on the stage and the place seems packed for the night as all men are hungrily watching the girl on the stage, throwing dollar bills at her shamelessly.

Sienna pulls you to the bar and leans closer to your ear so you can hear what she is saying.

“He is in one of the private rooms, told him the dance is on the house to thank him for being a regular. I asked one of the guards to stand nearby.”

“Thank you, S,” you nod at her as she squeezes your hands.

“Good luck, girl,” she smiles a little bitterly before she shows you the way to the room where Axel is currently waiting for his private dance.

As you stop at the door you take a deep breath, staring at the doorknob for a moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever is about to happen in there.

“I’m going in,” you say, partially to yourself, but mostly to Harry so he knows what’s happening though you don’t hear an answer before you open the door and step inside.

The room is mostly what you were expecting, a small stage with a rod in the middle, across that a long, plush, deep burgundy couch. The walls are black, just the red led lights illuminating the place.

And there he is. Axel Morris is sitting in the middle of the couch, manspreading so widely like the asshole that he is, arms leisurely draped across the back of the couch as his hungry eyes immediately snap to your body.

Axel is big. He is a large man and you realize that the moment you see him. Though he is sitting you can easily tell that he’s tall and he is definitely bulky. Could end you in a blink of an eye and knowing that he is capable of murder is just an eerie thought that doesn’t leave you alone. But you suck it up and get into character, only thinking about one thing: help Harry out of this mess.

Music with low bass starts playing through the speakers as you make your way over to Axel who grins at you disgustingly, making it hard for you to keep the façade.

“Hey big boy, heard you’ve earned a dance for yourself,” you coo at him stopping at the edge of the stage as you keep eye-contact with him. You lean against the edge and spread your legs just enough to tease his imagination about what’s about to come.

“Hell yes, I did! Hope you’re a good dancer, babygirl. Haven’t seen you around here.”

“I’m new. But I’m really good, that’s why they sent me,” you smirk at him sweetly as you walk closer until you’re standing in front of him. He reaches out and grabbing your hips he pulls you to straddle his lap and it catches you by surprise but you don’t fall out of character.

“Then show me what you can do. What’s your name?” He licks his lips as you start moving, doing your best from movies you’ve seen with strippers in them.

“Crystabel, but you can call me yours,” you hum, grinding and bouncing yourself, completely unleashing your inner hoe. “Tell me, big boy. Are you as dangerous as you seem?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea,” he grins proudly.

“Really?” you coo, pushing yourself up against him. His dirty hands find your ass and you want to push them away so badly, but you let him have his way with you for the sake of the plan. “What’s the worst you’ve done?”

“Why does a pretty girl like you want to know about that, huh?” he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you with suspicion so you know you have to be careful.

“Because I have a thing for those stuff. I love pain and blood, it gets me off always,” you smirk at him teasingly, grinding yourself against him to divert his attention a little from the words spoken.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yeah, I love that kind of stuff,” you moan, running your hands down your chest, his eyes hungrily following your every move and you know he is zoned out. It’s going perfectly.

“Well, I’m the perfect man for you then, babygirl. I’ve done all the things you can imagine.”

“Really? You are turning me on, big boy,” you murmur lowly, turning around for a bit so he can get a good glimpse of your backside as well. “Have you… taken anyone’s life before?” you bluntly ask, hoping you aren’t moving too fast and he won’t snap at you.

“Not sure I should be talking about that with you, pretty girl,” he smirks smugly. You turn back to face him, pushing your crotch against him as you try not to gag feeling his erection under you.

“I’m good with secrets, Honey. My lips are sealed,” you grin at him, stroking his oily face and try your best not to wipe your fingers into the cushion of the couch. Axel smirks at you, clearly enjoying the show you are putting on, his fingers are digging into your thighs as his eyes are practically glued to your chest.

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

“Yeah?” you gasp, faking your excitement. “What did you do, big boy? Tell me, make me wet,” you purr biting into your bottom lip, pushing your chest out some more to distract him from his consciousness that might keep him from answering.

“Killed a guy recently,” he smugly admits and your adrenaline is high in the sky. You are so close to what you need!

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

“Saw it on the news a guy got killed not long ago, did you do that?” you smirk at him, his hand slapping your ass and you fight yourself not to punch him in the face.

“That Richards guy? Yeah,” he nods and you almost start screaming in your triumph. This dumbass really did just confess to you, because you had your ass and tits out for him!

“Cool. What’s your name, big guy? Wanna know who I’ll think of when I touch myself later,” you pant into his ear, you need him to say his name otherwise the confession might go to shit.

“I’m Axel, babygirl,” he grins, leaning dangerously close to you, he clearly wants to push his tongue down your throat but you push yourself away and up from his lap.

“Our time is up, big boy. See you later!” you sing and walk out of the room while he is still kind of zoned out.

The moment you are out, you start running. You can’t have him realize what just happened and stop you. Pushing your way back to the dressing room you grab all your stuff and spring out of the building. Harry is standing at the entrance, his ridiculous disguise is gone as he spots you with wide eyes. He probably heard everything and wanted to be there for you when you get out and as soon as you reach him he grabs your hand and the two of you run to the car. Right when you get into the car, you spot Axel running out from the front entrance and he definitely realized what just happened.

“Hey! Get back here you slut!” he shouts as Harry starts the car and you melt into the seat, scared of what’s about to happen because you see Axel reach to his back and the next thing you know is that he has a gun in his hand.

“Harry! Go!” you scream when you see him aim at the car and right at that moment, the wheels screech as Harry pushes the gas pedal to the fullest and the car yanks forward.

Your heart drops to the floor when a bullet shoots into the side of the car as Axel tries to stop the two of you. Harry takes a sharp turn and leaves the car park with full speed. You see Axel from the mirror, he is raging and keeps shooting after you, but he has no aim or whatsoever. You reach the end of the street and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Oh shit, fuck,” you mumble, chest heaving as you grab onto the armrest for some kind of leverage, your adrenaline is still pumping through your veins from the action movie-like scene that just happened.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Harry asks, eyes dancing between the road ahead of him and you as he tries to figure out if anything happened to you.

“I-I’m fine, he was just… fucking nasty to deal with you,” you groan at the thought of his hands on you. You’ll need the hottest shower after this, that’s for sure. “Go to the station, we gotta bring the tape in now,” you tell him as you reach into your corset. Pulling the recorder out you huff in relief, it’s been pressed into you for way too long. The tape is still rolling so you end it and then rewind it, checking if everything you need is on it. Luckily, it caught the whole thing perfectly, that means Harry is not going to jail. Well, not this time at least.

He is speeding down the streets as you get rid of the wig and put on your coat, you don’t want to walk into the police station dressed like a hooker and have the word spread that Robert’s sister has been making money some other way lately.

Arriving to the station you hold the recorder so tightly as if your life depends on it while Harry reaches for your other hand and firmly holds it in his warm palm. You walk inside and immediately spot Jeremy at the front desk. Letting go of Harry’s hand you run up to him.

“Jer, I got evidence for the Richards case! I got a confession on tape,” you beam at him holding the recorder up. He gives you a stunned look as he takes the recorder.

“Confession? How do you—“ He is cut off when you hear Harry’s voice from behind you.

“Hey! What the fuck!” he snaps and as you turn around you see that two officers are already on him, trying to handcuff him. Jeremy quickly forgets about the recorder as he joins in on strangling Harry. but you grab his arm and try to pull back.

“No! He didn’t do it! Listen to the tape!” you cry out, desperate to end this mess, but it feels like no one is listening to you.

“Harry Styles, you are under arrest for the murder of Dave Richards. You have the right…” One of the officers starts saying the usual speech as they drag Harry away while you are begging to Jeremy to listen to you.

“Jeremy! He didn’t fucking do it!” you scream, tears rolling down your face.

“What do you mean?” he asks giving you a puzzled look. It was Axel Morris! One of Hugo McKain’s men! They are trying to frame Harry!” you explain, while Harry is being taken away. “Harry, no!” you shout after them, but the officers don’t stop.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll be fine!” he calls after you before he disappears from your vision.

“Jeremy, please just listen to the fucking tape! I got his confession!”

“I’ll look into it, but I’m afraid Harry is spending the night here,” he sighs, looking down at the recorder before he walks away.

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

When you finally stop crying you rush out of the building and call your brother, not even caring that it’s past midnight. He better answer your call or you are showing up at his house and start banging on his door until he opens it.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growls into the phone.

“Robert, they fucking took Harry in! I had the confession on tape, but they just wouldn’t listen, they arrested him!”

“Hey, slow down, what are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath you tell him the whole story. The club, the dance, the confession and then how you came straight to the station but they arrested Harry without listening to you.

“Alright, you can’t do much now, Y/N. He is still a suspect but I’ll call Jeremy to look into the tape. If it’s found relevant Harry will be out in the morning okay?”

“Please come in early in the morning and make sure he is let out, please!” you cry out, feeling so helpless after everything that just happened.

“I will. Meet me at the station at six, okay? It’ll be alright. Go home, have some sleep and then we’ll make everything right in the morning.”

You do as Robert asked, go home, have a shower, wash the night off of your skin and lie in bed however you are not able to sleep, not even for a minute. You keep thinking about Harry and what might be happening to him now. They better get their shit together and let him out in the morning or you are losing your mind. You didn’t go through all this just to have him put behind bars anyway.

It’s not even six when you are already at the station, anxiously waiting for Robert to show up. You keep glancing up at the building, thinking about how Harry is somewhere in there and you can only hope he’ll be out with you shortly.

When Robert arrives he goes straight up to check out the situation with the tape and Harry. Waiting for him down in the hall is nerve-wrecking, you feel like time has stopped. When he finally appears again you jump to your feet running up to him with high hopes.

“The tape has been examined, it was classified as evidence. Jeremy has already put out an arrest warrant on Axel. Harry is no longer a suspect. He’ll be down once the paperwork is done.”

“Oh thank God!” you breathe out and throw yourself at him, hugging him tighter than ever.

“Look, but there is something I need to talk to you about,” he says with a serious look.

“Okay, what is it?”

“We might be able to get this Axel guy, but I’m pretty sure Hugo is already after the two of you. We have a whole team for him, working on catching him finally, but it might be smart if you just left town for a little.”

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

“Let me know if you need help with that. I can arrange something for you.”

“We’ll see. I have to talk to Harry first.”

“Harry, huh?” Robert smirks down at you knowingly and you feel yourself blushing. A lot has changed lately around you and Harry and you guess it’s quite evident for everyone else as well. “Just so you know, he asked about you during the night. Wanted to know if you are alright.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out with a small smile.

“Yes. Might have been wrong about him a little. Tell him I said hello, I need to get to work now,” he nods with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Robert!” you call after him as he waves in your way before disappearing in the elevator.

Waiting around in the hall you keep looking towards the hallway, hoping to see him appear finally, but the minutes are just dragging by way too slowly.

You’re impatiently sitting on one of the benches by the wall when you finally see him walking down the hallway, leisurely running his hand through his hair, a tired smile sitting on his lips when he sees you leap from your seat and launch at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Hey, hey! It’s all good, Love. Told you not to worry about me,” he chuckles, but holds you tight anyway, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you off the ground, taking a few steps forward.

“Of course I fucking worry about you, idiot!” you mumble into his neck before leaning back you look at his pretty face.

“Yeah? Does this mean I had the right to worry about you last night?”

“You were?”

“Fuck yes,” he laughs. “You have no idea what it was like to sit outside and listen to everything that fucker told you. Wanted to punch him in the face so badly.”

“So heroic,” you grin at him, your face already inching closer to his, arms still wrapped around his neck.

“Only for my favorite stripper,” he winks at you, making you gasp.

“If you dare to bring it up again and call me a stripper, I swear to God I—“

You don’t get to finish your threat, because his hand snakes to the back of your neck and he pulls you into a hard kiss, his lips smashing against yours. Melting into the kiss you open your mouth for him without hesitation, his tongue meeting yours as he kisses you with so much vigor and passion, he makes you bend your back, leaning back as he holds you firmly in his strong arms. And suddenly, you feel like you’re seventeen again, making out with your high school crush in the school hallway, luckily, you are kissing the same person you wanted then.

“I’m fucking starving, babe,” he breathes out once you finally pull away from each other. “For you as well, but can we get some real food?” he asks as he laces his fingers together with yours, heading out of the station.

“Sure,” you chuckle. “Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Love, told you, you can handcuff me to the bedframe, I’m into that stuff.”

“Shut up!” you laugh smacking his chest as the two of you walk out to your car. “It’s not about that,” you murmur with a soft blush. “Robert said we should leave for a while, Hugo might be after us after what happened last night.”

“Yeah, thought about that myself too,” he nods as he gets behind the wheel without even asking if you want him to drive or not.

“So what should we do?” you question, sitting in the comfort of your car. Harry reaches for your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly before he smirks at you.

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

“No,” you breathe out, a little stunned by the question.

“I have a friend over there, I’m sure he would love to have us there for a while. What do you say?”

“Are you for real? You want to go to Ireland with me?”

“Yeah, would be fun, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” you smile in awe. Even after that kiss you had doubts he would want to run away with you for the time being. But he is definitely planning to have you around longer. “Yeah, Ireland sounds fun.”

“Great. Then let’s head home to pack,” he smirks, starting the car. “Oh, Love?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to bring your handcuffs,” he grins and you just laugh at his smugness before leaning closer to kiss him quickly before the two of you finally drive away from the station.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[isthisthingeven0n]

you’re still here : s.r

spencer watched you die in his arms, believing you were gone forever. but when he learns the truth that you’re alive in london, he can’t help but wonder why you’ve hidden away for so long. (2.4k)

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(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

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Salem, Oregon

“No, no, no Y/n, please,” Spencer pleads as he holds you close, his arms wrapped around you as your body becomes weaker by the passing second. “please don’t go,” His cries intensify as his arms shake, watching as your eyes begin to close. “no, please.”

“I’m sorry,” You manage to whisper as tears fall from Spencer’s eyes, the last sight you ever saw as your eyes closed, and your head fell back.

“No,” Spencer mutters, shaking you lightly. “no, you can’t be, no!” His cries turn to yells as Morgan approaches him slowly, resting his hand on Spencer’s shoulder as it shakes violently.

“Reid,” Morgan sighs, afraid to look down and see you lifeless in Spencer’s arms. “it’s over, I, I’m sorry.”

Looking over his shoulder, the rest of the team with solemn faces walk over and shield around Spencer whilst the police take care of Jason Lodgings; your murderer.

“Come on, Spence,” JJ speaks softly as she kneels beside Spencer as tears fill her eyes.

“I’m not leaving her.” Spencer states firmly, still not letting you go from his embrace.

“Reid,” Hotch calls out, his voice firm as he stands tall, watching as Lodgings walks away in handcuffs, glancing down with sorrow at the blood oozing from your cream jumper, dripping onto the wooden floorboards. “we have to go.” Hotch tells the team as they slowly rise to their feet, not wanting to start an argument with their superior.

Closing his eyes, Spencer releases a shaky breath as he gently lowers you to the ground. He pushes your hair out from your face and brushes his fingers across your cheek for the last time.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” Spencer whispers to you as he stands up and turns around, ignoring JJ’s open arms and walks out.

*

London, England - Two years later

It was always going to catch up with you, this life was a mere facade for your sake to have a sense of normality, but normality was never something you wanted.

Nearly two years had passed by since they last saw you. You hadn’t seen Garcia flirting with Morgan, heard JJ talk about Henry with such joy or avoided the stern looks Hotch shot over when you joked with Rossi and Emily for two years. But the one thing you’ve missed more than anything was seeing Spencer smile. You missed everything about Spencer, but seeing his smile brought a sense of indescribable joy.

This was never going to last forever, and you knew that coming into the situation. Hotch and Emily helped you figure out what to do, where to go in order to keep you safe. But keeping you safe meant everyone believing you were dead in the eyes of Jason Lodgings and his team, otherwise, they’d kill your team, your family off one by one just to get to you.

Having experienced the trauma from Emily’s ‘death’ you knew this wasn’t going to be easy on the team. You were lying in Spencer’s arms, close to death as you heard him cry for you. Every part of your body screamed to react, to tell him you’d see him again soon. If only you could have, just to provide him with some sense of relief in the long term. Yet if you did, it would’ve ruined the entire plan.

Wandering through Hyde Park, you knew he was close by. Maybe he had seen you already and was too afraid to believe it. The last time you spoke to anyone you knew was a year ago in Paris with Emily.

* Paris, France - One year Ago *

“How are they all?” You question as she sits down opposite you, files in hand as she places them on the table.

“They’re healing,” She answers, sliding the files across as you grab your bag, putting them inside without any hesitation. “it’ll get easier, but they’ll always miss you.” Emily sighs knowingly. “That contains everything you’ll need to get to London and set up a life there. But please, don’t trust anyone easily, Y/n.” She warns you as you nod.

Rising to your feet, you shrug your bag back onto your shoulder as you look down to one of your oldest friends for the last time. “Thank you, Emily.” You smile to her, wishing you could say more.

“Stay safe, okay?” She tells you, unable to form more words as thousands hover behind her lips. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

With a nod, you turn on your heels and walk down the street, not daring to look back as you’ve got to carry on.

*

Exhaling deeply, you bury your hands further into your coat pockets. Autumn was approaching as the Summer nights came to an end. You can’t help but kick through the piles of leaves that line the pathways as children giggle with their parents behind you.

“Did you know after June 21st, the Summer Solstice the sun’s direct rays will begin to shift southward from the Tropic of Cancer toward Earth’s equator?” You can’t help but tense as you hear his voice, filled with pain behind you. “As a result, the summer days become shorter, but that isn’t noticeable for a few weeks until late August when we near Fall.”

With a heavy heart, you begin to turn around and face the one person you owe the most to.

Your eyes remain locked on his feet, an old pair of sneakers lined with dried mud. Slowly, you raise your gaze past his trousers and toward the knitted sweatshirt vest, one you remember vividly even after all this time. As your eyes reach his shoulders, you can see his hair is long again and you can’t help but want to reach out and run your fingers through it like you once did.

“Hi,” You breathe out, unable to meet his scared gaze. “hi, Spencer.” You mutter, tearing apart the tissue in your left pocket as your nerves spread through your system, igniting undiscovered anxieties about this situation.

Spencer remains silent, taking in the sight before him. He never thought he’d see you again, the last time he saw you he held your lifeless body in his arms as he cried for you to stay with him. Yet you’re here, in London, alive.

“Do you wanna sit down?” You motion to the nearest vacant bench, and Spencer walks alongside you without saying a word.

Sitting down beside him, the gap between you feels too big. You’re used to the times of sitting together on the jet, resting your head on his shoulder and drifting off peacefully.

“Been up to much whilst here?” You ask, unsure what else to say. You can see out of the corner of your eye he’s looking straight ahead at the squirrels scaling the trees like buildings in the city.

“Why?” Spencer breaks his silence, his voice firm with you which takes you back by surprise.

“I,” You pause, lowering your head in defeat as you stare at the faint scar on your hand from the initial knife wound that Jason struck you with. “I had no choice.” You admit, hearing the gunfire as you blink away the memory.

“Everyone has a choice, Y/n, always.” He reminds you and just hearing him say your name causes your heart to drop. “You could’ve told us, we would’ve kept you safe, you know I,” Spencer pauses as he exhales his frustration. “we could’ve protected you.”

“I know, Spence,” You mutter, now turning to look up at him for the first time. “but I couldn’t do it, Hotch and Emily assured everyone would be safer this way.” You try to explain as you see the pain that lines his eyes, the heartache held in his gaze as he focuses on you.

He looks older, still sleep-deprived, but there’s a hint of happiness in the lines that surround his lips. A reassurance that he does have good days, the one thing you wished he'd have since you left.

“So you just left knowing we thought you died in my arms? Do you have any idea how I felt?” He’s angry, and rightfully so. “I, I thought I meant more to you than that, Y/n.” His anger subsides as his voice softens, his defences down.

You can’t help but reach out as you look at your hand on top of his, not daring to move it as you study his reaction.

“You’re the most important person to me, Spencer.” You reason, feeling his hand take a hold of yours, resting it in his palm as he curls his fingers over your hand, refusing to let go. “That’s why I had to let you believe I was gone, as Lodgings’ team would know, they’d always know and you would be in danger because of me.”

Spencer shakes his head. “We would’ve found a way, we, we,” He stumbles over his words as you squeeze his hand.

“You think me faking my death was plan A, Spence?” You chuckle, noticing a faint smile crossing his lips. “That was plan Z, actually version 3 plan Z if we’re being specific.”

“Did you ever plan on coming back?” Spencer quietly questions as his words linger around you for a moment as you slip your hand out from his.

“What did Emily tell you, Spence?” You ask, looking up at him as you hide your hands in your coat pockets, picking at the tissue once more.

“Besides the fact you’re alive and in London?” He nervously chortles, catching you rolling your eyes playfully. “She said you were doing okay, and that you were safe here.”

“I am, with Lodgings’ team having been sentenced, I’m no longer a target to them. My life is my own again, I can finally carry on living it.” Looking up, you watch as pigeons fly overhead, swarming down on the chunks of bread left for the swans. “But I made an agreement with Hotch, I’d stay away for at least three years. Three years to ensure my safety and for Lodgings’ team to be dismantled and dealt with.”

“Three years.” Spencer repeats, and you nod along. “You’re not planning on coming home, are you?” Your silence answers his question without you needing to respond. “I understand, Y/n. Three years is a long time to be gone from us all, and people change.” He reasons to himself more than to you. “I, we all thought you were gone, and finding out you’re alive I,” His voice trails off as he clenches his jaw, fighting his emotions that have been pent up for so long.

“Spence,” You mumble his name as tears fall from his eyes. “I want to come home, I do. I just don’t know if it’s home anymore.”

“Home is where the heart is.” Spencer comments.

“Elvis Presley.” You chuckle, lifting your hand up as you wipe away his tears, feeling him tense momentarily from your touch.

“Please don’t go, Y/n.” Spencer whispers as he lifts his hand up, resting it on top of yours as you cup his cheek. “I want to be selfish, I don’t want to lose you again if I don’t have to.”

Tears glaze your eyes as Spencer scans your face for any uncertainty. “Six months, Spence.” The words are barely audible for anyone passing by, but you know he heard you.

“One hundred and eighty-two point five days.” He nods as you lower your hand from his cheek, but he still keeps his on top of yours. “Then you’ll come home?”

“I can’t promise, Spence.” You know lying would be useless with him, you were never the most confident liar around him. “But before I go, I just want to tell you something.”

“Anything.” Spencer responds in a heartbeat, his entire body facing you now as you lower your gaze and take a steady breath.

“When you held me in your arms as I was,” Even after all this time, you still struggle saying the word. “well, fading, there was one thing I couldn’t help but think as you pleaded for me to stay.”

Spencer edges closer, your thighs touching as the previous gap between you both on the bench is gone. “What was it?”

“I wanted to tell you how much I care for you, how much I love you. And I wanted to thank you for being there for me through everything.” Your eyes remain locked on his as you pour your heart out to him, knowing if you don’t say it now, you never will. “But I didn’t have enough life in me to say all that then.” You nervously laugh. “So I thought I’d say it now, as it’s still true. You are a wonderful person Spencer Reid.”

A comfortable silence falls between you both as echoes of children's laughter surrounds you. And for the first time in years, you feel perfectly content.

“You know, Rossi once told me something,” Spencer speaks up, looking down at your hand as he brushes his thumb over the scar Jason caused. “scars show us where we have been, they do not dictate where we are going.”

“Wise words from a wise man.” You comment quietly as Spencer pauses.

“I know you have scars, Y/n. Externally and internally. But I’ll always be here, wherever you chose to be.” A small sweet smile lines Spencer’s lips as you focus on him, wishing there was so much more you could say. “And I’ll always love you, I’ll always miss you. But if I know you’re healing, then that is all that matters.” He lifts your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly before lowering it back to your lap, unaware of your heart-shattering in your chest.

“I’ll see you soon, Spence.” You tell him as he stands up, hands resting in his jacket pockets as he sways back and forth on his heels.

“One hundred and eighty-two point five days, Y/n.” He reminds you, and you can’t help but laugh and Spencer joins in too for a moment and everything feels okay again, just for a second. “I’ll be holding you to it.” He smiles to you one last time as he sees the glint in your eyes falter. “Bye Y/n.”

“Bye Spencer.” You wave to him as you turn around, walking down separate paths once more, unsure when you’ll next reunite.

[balmasedas]

dearly departed. /

(gif is not mine).

PAIRING: din djarin x force sensitive!f-reader.

SUMMARY: au of 2x8 where reader exists instead of grogu (i'm sorry, baby).

WARNINGS: very slight description of torture, violence and blood. major angst.

WORD COUNT: 5k.

——————————————————————————

One day felt like a year.

A week onboard the light cruiser was hell and Moff Gideon was proven to be worse than the devil.

You’d barely slept and hunger constantly gripped your belly. You didn’t felt the urge to scream or to even beg for help, those instincts were long dead by now.

They were fascinated. A real Jedi or, at the very least, a live one, still yet to be properly trained (if you managed to survive this). So it wasn’t a surprise that because of their evil nature and in the name of “curiosity” you were obliged to use the Force until you fainted, over and over again. 

It was a tragedy. In search of what would’ve been your home, you had found one with Din Djarin; and now the memories you'd learned to cherish seemed so far away in time that you started to doubt your mind.

(,,,)

Din sat against a rock; while you rested your back against his chest and between his legs. Just the two of you, the sound of the crackling fire and endless stars above your heads. You felt so little and yet, at the same time, that there was nothing that could stop you from conquering the entire galaxy.

“You got this.” his modulated voice came out lower than usual. 

“Sh!” you silenced him with a half-smile. Your hand was extended, just a couple of meters away a small rock floated in the air, slowly approaching you. You’d tried it at least a dozen times and this one, you decided, would be the last. 

Silence crept over you both. Too expectant to breathe for a few seconds. 

You were certain, so confident. Then, fear invaded you. Your hand started to shake and so did the rock. You could feel yourself slowly losing control, anticipating a seemingly inevitable failure. You didn’t trust your power, having always been relegated to abandoning your true identity for your own (and everyone’s) safety. 

Luckily, Din did have hope in you, and although he respected your wishes of quietness during this moment, it didn’t mean he couldn’t try to ease your mind through other means. After all, the Mandalorian felt more comfortable with actions than he felt with words. 

So he snuck his hand beneath your hair and softly rubbed his thumb behind your ear, a soothing caress he often offered when you needed comfort.

It wasn’t a revelation that then, and only then, you felt enough peace to stabilize the Force and finally close your hand around the object.

“Oh!” both your eyes and mouth were wide open. You half turned towards Din — you were drunk in elation, still not wanting to miss the warmness of his body. “I got it!” you burst. You met his visor, but you could sense his eyes on you. 

“What did I say?” he spoke. “You got this.”

You got this. 

You got this.

“I got this,” you mumbled, trying to hold on to comforting words carefully sheltered in your head.

You had been a prisoner of your own body for over a week now. Traveling only from your cell to the room you were currently held and vice versa. Having to extend your arm obediently when you were told so and use your powers as well. 

Truth be told, there was nothing else you could do, except trying to keep your mind busy and start processing the facts: there were no (nor there would be) allies to your cause. You were alone and whatever the remains of the Empire had in store for you was still yet to be revealed. 

Din would come for you, you were sure of that, but some hopeless part of your now broken soul was unsure he’d make it in time.

The door from your cell opened. A couple of troopers marched towards you. Between them, the man in the white coat you’d regularly seen since your arrival. He introduced himself by squeezing your arm, it was supposed to be gentle. 

He wouldn't have done the same if you weren't cuffed and strapped into a stretcher. You thought about breaking free. Your hands around his neck, fear instead of the cockiness his eyes currently harbored. 

The urge was sharp and violent and you enjoyed it while it lasted.

“How are you doing?” Like shit. You remained impassible. 

He opened a case he’d been carrying and laid out the contents on a tray next to the bed. You knew what it was, you wish you didn’t. Needles of different sizes, scalpers, and syringes. 

You winced when he took a needle and fitted it into a large syringe.

He smiled at you. "Be a good girl and stay still, will you?"

Fuck you. “Okay.” Even though you complied, both troopers were ordered to hold you down.

As usual, every movement from that moment was processed in slow motion. The doctor hovering the needle just a few millimeters over your skin, then, the hard cold steel piercing it. First a pinch; as it went deeper, burn; then ache. You wanted to trash but you couldn’t. 

Your vision swam, and your head went thick. “It’s done.” was the last thing you heard before you blacked out. 

(,,,)

“Are you seeing anything? Or are they supposed to see you?” Din queried, looking around.

You were sitting on top of the Seeing stone, drowned in confusion just like him. Still, you couldn’t help but giggle at his obvious deduction from the name of the place where you currently were.

“Yes, I-” you trailed off and furrowed your brows as you watched him thoroughly inspecting the rock. He was quiet, his thoughts were loud. Or maybe you just knew him too well by then. “… I see you” you tilted your head, reformulating your sentence into a question, “Are you searching for an interrupter, Din?”

He straightened his body and immediately backed away from it “No,” he was quick to deny. You kept your eyes fixated on him, and then a ghost of a smile appeared on your face. Finally, he corrected himself after a defeated sigh, “Yes.” he confessed.

You chuckled. You could’ve kissed him by then, if only you had the chance. 

“I wish Ahsoka Tano would’ve told me more, but that’s not how it works.” 

The Force seemed to be much more complex than you originally thought. And the Jedi you met in Corvus day’s ago should’ve cleared many things —instead, she baffled you, even more, shifting her entire demeanor when she sensed your connection with the Mandalorian. 

Now, you were supposed to make contact with another Jedi without knowing how. 

Din didn’t answer. He had left the previous planet just as frustrated as you, if not more. 

“Well, look at the bright side—” you were cut by the sound of a ship circling the area. Both of you were immediately alarmed by its presence. Din ran to the edge of the mountain and followed it closely with his eyes. An attack craft was no good news. As much as he wished to complete the mission, there was no way he’d risk your safety. Both of you could come back later, he assumed.

He called your name, walking backward. “Time’s up, we gotta go.” he stopped abruptly when he finally turned around and saw you. He’d never seen anything of similar nature. 

Your eyes were shut, strands of your hair floated like feathers in the breeze. Some kind of force shield had been erected around you. He screamed for you again. “Hey! Snap out of it, we gotta get out of here.” but wherever your mind was, it was far away from Tython now.

He even tried to pass through the force shield only to be violently expelled from it.

He grunted. The floor beneath him was hard, the realization he made hit harder: there was no way he could reach you. 

His desperation only could grow when he spotted an unknown subject leaving the craft. “Dank Farrik!” he cursed. His hands were closed in tight fists, his gaze lingered on you. Leaving you was his last preference, he’d promised you he’d never do it until you were safe but it became the only viable option. 

He had no power to interfere in whatever was happening to you up there, but he could take care of the problem on the bottom of that mountain.

Din pulled his blaster from the holder. “I’ll see if I can buy you some time.” he doubted you could hear him, but still he tried. “Can you please hurry up?” there was hesitation in his movement, his steps were slow and uncertain. Walking away from you had never felt so wrong, and yet he had no other choice if he wanted to protect you.

He would later learn that fear, desolation, and regret were very possible and present emotions in him as he could only stand and see the dark troopers taking you away. 

(,,,)

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was your handcuffs.

The second thing was the light reflecting off them. 

Your glance flickered from the Dark saber to Moff Gideon and then to the person he was talking to. 

Until that moment, you weren’t sure if you were awake or hallucinating. But then everything became so real. His armor, his voice. As exhausted as you were, you took your time to caress Din with your eyes. 

He was alive. Whole. Here.

You were in a dream.

He, on the other hand, sensed that his nightmare was far from over. 

“You can keep it, I just want her,” he assured. The object of dispute between Moff Gideon and Bo-Katan had never sparked any interest in him. You were his only priority and his original quest had been long forgotten by then. 

The Moff stood in silence, seemingly analyzing the proposal.

“Very well, I already got what I wanted from her.” he addressed. “All I wanted was to study her blood. You see, the girl is extremely gifted. And has been a blast with rare properties that have the potential to bring order to the galaxy.” 

Din anchored his attention on you. All this talking did nothing but disturb him even more. You were so close and so far. Shut up, he wanted to say. 

Instead, he remained quiet. 

“I see your bond with her.” Din heard it before. Did he also believe what you both had it was dangerous? He didn’t wish or care to know. “Take her. But you will leave my ship immediately and we will go separate ways.”

If Din nodded, you missed it. He took cautious steps towards you. Your heart started to race in anticipation. You could already taste a decent glass of water, the sun kissing your skin, and the end of what was once an endless agony. 

You extended your hand for him to take it. He was only a meter away. 

It seemed so easy.

It would’ve been so easy.

But Moff Gideon bared only greed and darkness in his soul. He surrendered to no one, let alone a Mandalorian.

“No!” your scream ripped through your throat when you saw the Dark saber hovering over Din’s head. He was quick enough to block the hit and the ones that followed after, but the Moff was insatiable and they both disappeared into the hall.

You tugged at the cuffs, trying to get them off but it was impossible. Not when they were neutralizing your power. You were too weak to run, yet you still launched yourself at the door. 

Your legs instantly gave in. You let out a hard groan but didn't stop to recover from the blow. You instantly laid your body on a side and with the own weight of your arms you started dragging yourself on the floor. 

You had no visuals on Gideon and Din, still, the sound of the black saber colliding against beskar outside the room brought you some sense of calm.

They were still fighting, there was still time.

You just had to crawl a little bit more.

But the hallway seemed miles away, you were tired and you'd barely reached the doorframe when all fell silent.

"D–" your voice died before finishing the sentence. The thought of calling him and not receiving an answer infested your mind like a parasite. You wouldn’t survive that memory. 

A rush of adrenaline took over your body, you started moving once again. Frightened, but not hopeless —not yet. 

If Din hadn’t... If Din—

You would make sure to make Gideon pay. Maybe not with your mind, maybe with your own bare hands.

But your revenge would have to wait a few more minutes because someone blocked your path before you could reach the hallway.

Your eyes fixed over the boots in your line of vision. Where those his? You should’ve paid more attention to his clothes. If you did, you wouldn’t be trembling in fear. If you did, you would’ve instantly knew it was him, instead of waiting until he kneeled and reached for you.

He whispered your name. So loving and familiar. So soft it almost went unnoticed. 

Your lips pursed into a tight line, your eyes were filled to the brim with tears. You didn’t want to cry. But your heart felt heavy and all that pain you had accumulated those days had to go somewhere.

It was inevitable to break down. To weep and shake as your thoughts bounced between what could've happened and what didn't.

Din seemed to sense this when he asserted, "I'm here." He quickly took care of the cuffs. You find relief around your wrist, but the pressure didn't seem to budge on your chest. “I’m here.” 

There, on the cold surface of that cell, he hugged you for all the days he couldn’t.

One arm went around your back, his other hand rested against your head, fitting you against his body. You buried your face against his chest. He drew his fingers along the curve of your neck.

The well-known gesture felt completely different. Whereas before the calming effects of it were exclusively destined to you, it seemed that now it was he who needed it the most. He needed to make sure you were there. That you were real, alive, and well.

You vocalized your thoughts once you found the strength to do so, "I thought I lost you."

Din’s arms tightened around you, solid and warm. His heart would’ve broken right there if it weren’t filled with happiness. Your voice was the same. It was home. "No. I'm too stubborn to leave you." had you had the strength to chuckle, you would have. 

You slowly raised your head and, for the first time, observed past his shoulder. You immediately regretted your decision. In the hallway, Moff Gideon laid against the wall, now in shackles, looking straight into your eyes. There was a smirk plastered on his face. 

Din side-glanced the floor. The handcuffs, from which he had freed you, started to shake. Your back, once hunched and languid, was now rigid under his embrace. 

“No,” he muttered. He separated and took your face between his hands. “Look at me.” you ignored him and focused on the man behind him. Gideon’s brow furrowed, his cockiness slowly fading away —the air in his lungs too. "Cyar’ika.” the whisper came out as a plead. His helmet blocked your vision now, his gloved thumbs slid over your cheeks. You blinked the lashes that framed your eyes. They would’ve looked innocent on anyone else. “Don’t. He can’t hurt you no more.” his voice was gentle and reassuring. You believed him. 

He wouldn't hurt you, but he could –and would– hurt Din if given the chance. 

That terrified you, and it was something you couldn't forgive or forget.

Din was waiting for an answer, so you gave him one, “Alright.” Moff Gideon would just have to wait.

You both stared at each other for a moment. You hoped your answer was convincing enough to buy Din's calm. It did, cause he dropped the subject and moved into another, seconds later, “Can you walk?” he asked.

You placed your palm on the floor and held Din's with your other hand. Your legs responded –slowly but steady, you got on your feet.

The Mandalorian held you by the waist, watching with caution until he was sure you could stand by yourself, "We have to go to the bridge" he announced. His voice was low enough to maintain what he was saying between you. “Moff Gideon will go to the front, I’ll stay behind, you can follow me.” you couldn’t tell if it was a proposition or an order. 

“It’s ok. You said it yourself, he can’t hurt me.” Din tittered and shook his head.

“It’s not you who I’m worried about”.

(,,,)

You’d felt at ease once you met the familiar faces that had come to your rescue. Cara didn’t hesitate to hug you when she saw you, while Fennec limited herself to a comradely nod from afar.

Koska and Bo-Katan had been a completely different story. They didn’t take it lightly when they saw Din in possession of the Darksaber. You glanced at Moff Gideon, his victorious grin made much sense then —he knew of the traditions and what gave power to the saber. He also appreciated how Bo-Katan was as obsessed as him with it —purposely sinking his finger in her wounded pride. 

Although Din had yielded, his peace offering was unwelcomed, as well as his intentions to give her the saber. The last thing you needed was internal conflicts, but you were willing to fight anyone if you had to protect the person you'd care about the most.

The rising tension was —luckily or not— shut down by the alarms going off and then Fennec reporting a breach in the ray shields of the ship.

Moff Gideon, with a disgusting proudness in his voice, announced the dark troopers.

Lines formed between your eyebrows, "Dark troopers?"

Fennec took care of your confusion. "Problems." Her answer was vague, but you could deduce from it, at least, the essential: you'd have to fight against them —inhuman killing machines that doubled your size. The chances of winning were minimal, but you couldn't have gotten this far only to surrender.

You approached the screens and took a seat in front of them. The dark troopers kept coming. Din had trouble fighting with one earlier, and now you were six against too many. Five if they didn't count you. You were still weak, no powers, no Force —you were utterly useless.

Someone softly squeezed your shoulder. You looked up and your eyes met with beskar. "I'm gonna get you out of here." He could try. His words had always given you security. You assumed it was your damaged spirit that doubted them for the first time.

You fixed your eyes on the screen again, Din went to the front among the others. The dark troopers marched towards the bridge. They were getting closer and closer and all you could do was prepare yourself and wait.

"Seal the blast doors!" Fennec commanded Koska.

You looked at the cameras.

They were there.

The two dark troopers in the front started pounding on the door. The material they were made of was resistant, but not indestructible. It was only a matter of minutes before they could get through it.

"You have an impressive fireteam protecting you," Moff Gideon spoke. His voice exuberated confidence. He appreciated his upper hand in the situation and wasn't shy about it. "But I think we all know after a valuable stand, everyone in this room will be dead, but me and the girl."

Din didn't turn to look at you. Gideon's statement probably sent him the same eerie sensation as it did to you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The thought of him speaking so lightly of your friends' death almost made you puke.

If only you could've hurt him. You had the will, but not the power.

The alarm went off a second time. All of you looked at your right, throughout the windows: A ship flew past the cruiser. Closer monitoring allowed you to identify it as a lone X-wing fighter. Just one. Cara whispered something about being saved, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

"Incoming craft, identify yourself." Bo-Katan solicited. Radio silence.

The dark troopers outside stopped pounding at the door. You looked at the cameras outside the bridge. They made a half-way turn on their place and armed themselves. 

Everyone was too baffled to be relieved about it. Everyone but you.

Your eyes were glued to the screen. The hooded figure that disembarked was just a visual confirmation of what you had sensed as soon as the craft had landed in the docking bay. 

There was no more such thing as uneasiness. The air felt lighter —in it, an invisible string pulling you towards the unknown subject.

No. Not unknown. You knew what and who it was —long before he'd displayed his lightsaber. You knew why he was here, as well as his intentions. You just didn't want to acknowledge the consequences of his presence —and what it meant for you. 

You turned around and searched for the Mandalorian, only to find Moff Gideon on his feet and pointing a blaster at Bo Katan.

He fired at her, four or five times, you didn't exactly count —it was enough to knock her out of the way.

There was nothing between you and him now. Whereas he'd expressed before the possibilities of keeping you alive for further studies about the Force, it wasn't a viable option anymore. He would rather kill you than let the Jedi get his hands on you.

You had no way to defend yourself. So you looked at him in the eyes and held your breath, resigned, once again, to a destiny written by foreign hands. 

You waited for the shots but they never came. Instead, the air was knocked out of your chest as you were thrown to the floor by someone. You winced at the harsh contact. At least you didn't have a hole in your body. You had closed your eyes by instinct, blinking felt such a waste of energy by then.

You focused on Din's helmet while he frantically inspected your body for any wounds.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

No, you were not. You were numb, expressionless, stunned, motionless. You felt your throat closing up. To speak would mean abandoning the shelter of your conscious, where you still believed to have more time with him. 

But you didn’t, and Din needed to be aware of this.

Tears welled up in your eyes before you whispered, “It’s time.” 

His posture stiffened above you. Though it was never a serious conversation, he’d recalled both of you touching the subject very on the surface. Always in a light, joking manner. “Oh, what will you do when I’m gone?” you’d ask. Din would follow with a snicker and tease you for the sake of your dynamic. “Get a good night of rest.” Truth be told, you could’ve never fathom to properly rest far from each other.

You wished, or rather begged with your eyes, for him to say something, anything —but he chose silence. Was his nightmare the same as yours? Or had he come to accept, long before you did, your true path? 

He took you gently by the hands and helped you get up. He guided you to the front, slow and steady. 

“Open the door,” the bridge was noiseless. No answer whatsoever to his request. Din insisted, “I said, open the door.”

Fennec raised an eyebrow, aiming at the entrance. “Are you crazy?” all the dark troopers were destroyed, but you couldn’t blame the group for their wariness. It had been a long day, a long journey, too many enemies in your path to trust so easily the person waiting on the other side.

You walked past by Gideon, who laid unconscious on the floor. His attempt to kill you felt so far away in time. Now, you faced something worse and more dreadful than death itself. 

Din ignored the verbal protests and pressed the button himself. The blast doors opened. The green glow of the lightsaber was visible before his body. Everyone waited as he entered the bridge. The sick, anxious feeling in your gut only increased when he withdrew his lightsaber. The memories of your time on the seeing stone came back altogether. You recalled his face, he was in your dream, he was the one who had reached out and —oh, you wished you could retract your cry for help.

“Are you a Jedi?” Din found the courage to ask. 

Yes, he is. You knew his identity before he could tell you so. Luke Skywalker.

“I am,” he confirmed and then looked at you. He reached out a hand, you squeezed Din’s. “Come, please.” you trusted this stranger as if you had known him all your life. The Jedi wasn’t the problem, it was the man standing next to you. 

“She doesn’t want to go with you.” Din’s authoritative tone and firm stand made it clear that he shared the same wishes as you. 

But Luke knew better than to give in to the whims of your hearts. If only they were reason enough to rebel against him, “She is strong with the Force. But talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect her, but she will not be safe until she masters her abilities.” 

Your fingers lingered over Din’s as you broke the grip on his hand and took a step forward. For a moment, you considered the option of leaving everything behind without looking back. To spare the pain of goodbye seemed the happiest ending you could get. 

Then you remembered how uncertain and unpleasant the future could be. Very few souls in the galaxy could survive regret, an ‘I should’ve’ was more gut-wrenching than any blast to your chest.

So you turned around and face him one more time. You offered a tremulous smile, drops wet the corner of your lips. 

He, as always, tried to offer some peace of mind you couldn’t find by yourself. “I’ll see you again. I promise.” you hated the bleakness that tainted his voice. Still, you found yourself wordless, nodding at his words. 

You extended your hand, the tip of your fingers brushed his helmet. It was cold, lifeless, so much different from what was inside of it and who you had learned to know. Din’s hand went up and reached for yours, for a moment you thought he’d push it away. Instead, he put it on the helmet and slowly removed it. 

What in the past was deemed unlikely, was now a solid dream.

You lingered on the coffee eyes that studied yours, on the small crease between them above the line of his bold nose. His hair —you wanted to jump in his arms and run your fingers through that hair. Your eyes wandered over his mouth, following its curve and pout, as if he was just about to speak. You wanted to crush your mouth against his lips. 

So you did.

Time stopped in a collision of senses when your lips met his. Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees got weaker. You could only focus on how soft he felt against your mouth, in how addictively he invaded your senses. 

There was raw emotion in the way his fingers closed behind your neck, in how he squeezed you against his body. With your eyes closed, you weren’t sure if your mind had tricked you into a perfect present. 

But then you opened them again and he was there. Closer than ever. 

“We will meet again.” your voice quavered in a whisper. You threw your head back just to take a full picture of his handsome face. Tears fell over his cheeks, you brushed them away with your thumbs. “Someday, somewhere, we’ll get to be together.” you lowered a hand and placed it on his chest. “Until then, keep me here, ok?” 

This time, Din draped both of his arms around your frame and met your lips halfway. It was short, intense, and everything that needed to be said was said with it, “I’ll wait for you as long as I have to, ner runi”. 

You stole him one last kiss before you let him go. 

There was nothing said between you and Luke as you left the bridge side by side. More tears cascaded through your face the further you walked away. You knew this was the way it should be, but never would it hurt so bad. The Mandalorian was supposed to be only an eventuality and ended up being half of your heart. 

You reached the elevator and turned around. It took a massive amount of bravery to look at a loved one in the eyes as you parted ways, so you gathered every cell full of courage in your body and looked at Din. 

You were still crying, so was he. But you had made peace with the past, the present, and the future — both of you knew, one way or another, you were destined to each other, whatever the odds you’d have to face. 

The elevator doors were closing. Your smile grew wider and wider as you realized, not too late, just in time, “I love you, Din Djarin.” he didn’t have to say it back for you to know he felt it too. 

You had promised to find him as soon as you could and you intended to keep your word.

[kortsitron]

Cold-hearted

Pairing: Steve Rogers × Murderer!Male! Reader

Warnings: cursing (not much tho), mention of blood, mention of killing, it's kinda disgusting (understand it however you want)

Summary: Reader is a murderer gets captured by the Avegers after a long time. Steve catches contact with reader and falls in love with him, but was falling for him right?

// Hate me all you want after this, but honestly that idea for a one shot in my opinion is just *chef's kiss* I might do the second part, but I'll think about it. Leave your thoughts in comments and enjoy 💖 //

"So... Did you like your life or am I doing you a favor?" You said to the person being attached to a chair, who was crying already. "At least it's nothing personal, because if it would person, it would much worse than that." You murmured while making your way to the table where you had a lot of knives. Everytime you would kill someone, you always liked to talk to them. No matter what was talk monolog about, you liked it. It was kind of your traditions to do that. You knew that it wasn't relaxing the person that you were talking to, but it was relaxing for you. "It would say that this won't hurt, but it will." You smiled to yourself while taking your favorite knife. The person you were trying to kill, was having a hiccup from crying, but beside that everything was quiet. Way too quiet. "Something wrong, I can sense it..." You murmured to yourself. The next thing you knew was that Balck Widow came to your hiding place and kicked you right in the head, making you fall on the ground and lose consciousness.

"Got him, you can come in."

You woke up a few hours later with shook collar on neck and big handcuffs. You cell was huge, made out of glass and metal. "Good morning, prince. Hope you like your home." Nick Fury said to the microphone. You wanted to cover your ears, because of how loud he was, but you couldn't. "Around an hour from now you'll have an interview, so ya better get ready." You were quiet.

When the interview came, you were still quiet. Behind the glass, right in front you was a glass, you weren't seeing too well who was on the other side, but somehow you could tell that Captain America and few other people. When the guy that was supposed to interview you, got angry and started yelling at you, you were looking terrified. You weren't saying anything, but it was way to visible how scared you were. You managed to make eye contact with Captain through the dark glass, which made him want to get out of that situation. So that's why he stood up. "Where do you think you're going?" Natasha raised her eyebrow, when Steve made his way to the door.

"It think I should try talk to him." He answered before coming in. He talked for a while with a guy, before he took his thing and left. Steve took a chair and sat right on front you. You still were terrified after what happened. "It's alright pal. I'm not going to yell at you. Everything will be fine, if you're going to cooperate with me, alright?" You waited a second before nodding. "I'm not going to be a good cop or whatever so let me just ask - Why did you do it?" Steve was waiting patiently for you to answer, it took you a minute before you brought yourself up to speak. "I-I had to. I had n-no other option."

"What do you mean? Did someone make you do it?" You flinched at that, it gave Steve some kind of signal, that something was going on. He wasn't sure if you were telling the truth or not, but he decided that he wanted to believe you. "You can tell me, it's okay."

"I-I can't. I-I'm sorry." Steve was sitting here, looking at you, thinking if he should keep asking questions, but he just thanked you for that interview and left. "You knew that he used to spent a lot of his time in theater as a kid? Lying little bastard." Bucky groaned, while looking at paper that in the folder with your name. "You think so?" Steve asked sitting next to his best friend, reading the papers.

"Of course he is. Look at him, he looks like a person that would lie to you." Sam interrupted right before leaving.

"Looks like a lost child to me." Steve murmured under his breath. He was looking directly in your eyes, when four men was taking you back to your cell. "He really does looks like a lost child."

Two hours later, Avengers had a meeting in one of the rooms, discussing your situation and thinking what they should do to you. Steve was quiet, listening to what others were saying, even though your words were still on his mind. "Hey capsticle, you there?" Tony was snapping his fingers, trying to get Steve's attention. He blinked a few times before turning his attention to short brunet male in from of him. "So what did (Y/N) tell you?"

"Oh um... He told he had no other option, when it comes to murdering, that's all." Steve murmured as anwers.

"Liar!" Thor shouted, others agreed with him.

"Okay, but what if he's actually telling the truth?"

"I would believe it, if it wasn't him." Wanda responded, sounding a bit annoyed.

"I get it, but what if someone's making him do that? I mean, he wouldn't take it put of nowhere, right?"

"I understand what you're trying to say," Bucky added, while looking at Steve with straight face. "but aren't you're just into guy that murdered around one thousand people in one year?" When Bucky saw his best friend's annoyed expression, he couldn't help his laugh. "I'm just messing with you, punk. Don't be mad."

"I just that's more to it than we think."

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll find out."

Days went and Steve still couldn't get your words out of his mind, so he decided that he wanted to befriend you or at least make you trust him so he could find out if you were telling the truth. He didn't much time, because in a month, you were about to be taken to jail. So he went to your cell and saw you, being absolutely miserable and gently tapping on glass with your nails. It was dark in your cell, because it was night, but you couldn't sleep.

"Can't sleep?" Steve interrupted you, snapping you out of your thoughts. His voice was quiet, because he didn't want to scare you. You looked at him and smiled a little. "Thanks for saving me from that guy a few days ago. He scared be a bit, wasn't expecting that reaction from him."

"Wasn't expecting that either. You know where they planning to take me?" You were meaning the jail.

"No, everyone's doesn't want to inform about you, since I've decided to defend you at one of the meetings." He answered while scratching back of his neck, not sure if it was right to say that. "I told them what you said to me and everyone's now calling you a liar. I just thought other should think about what you've said."

"You believe me? You must be only one." You honestly thought he would be like the rest.

"Maybe. But I've heard you really liked spending your time in theater as kid. How was it?" This surprised you, he actually wanted to get to know you. It made blush a bit. Luckily it was too dark for Steve to notice your pink cheeks. You decided to talk to him, tell him about yourself and listen to what he wanted to say. You didn't remember the last when you had such a wonderful conversation. Steve seemed to enjoy talking with you as well. You were still like a lost child to him. You two been talking for around three hours, before Steve felt like you needed sleep. "Well, goodnight (Y/N)" He said with a smile right before leaving.

"Um... Goodnight." After that night, when Steve Rogers had a free time, he would come and talk with you. He would even bring you some snacks. Steve's friends were trying to stop him, because they thought you had bad intentions and they noticed that Steve was getting attached to you. Bucky knew him way too well and he was the most worried one from entire team and he knew that he needed to talk to him. He decided to talk to him  when he saw him going down the hall. "Steve, where the hell do you think you're going?" Bucky asked with very serious tone, immediately catching Steve's attention. "I'm going to talk with (Y/N)."

"Steve, you're spending too much time with him."

"I'm just trying to make him trust me. I just want to know if he's lying."

"He is lying and you're falling for him." Steve raised his eyebrow at Bucky's second statement. "You're falling for a literal murderer." Bucky sighed, not believing what he just said.

"I'm not, Bucky. Believe me." His smile didn't change Bucky's mind. "But now, excuse me. I gotta go, I'll see you around pal." He was aware of how bad it would if he was in love with you. He wanted just got informations from you, but he knew that he felt something for you. He wasn't going admit that.

Steve was talking with you, like he always did, but this time he decided to ask you about the thing he wanted to ask you for so long. He saw how you tensed up and got more serious. "It was multiple people. If I wouldn't do what they told me to, they would've kill me or people I care about. I had no choice." You explained it to him.

"Can you tell me who they are? Avengers probably won't have problems with getting them into jails."

"No." You sounded panicked. "They'll know that I was the one to tell you." You took a small break, before speaking again. "I wish I could do something."

Steve thought about your words for a second, before he got most brilliant or the worst idea he ever had. "Maybe you should join Avegers." He exclaimed, catching you off guard. "You can show that everyone is wrong about you and be finally free."

"I- No I couldn't do that."

"I think you just in need to believe in yourself a bit."

"But you would help me, right?"

"Of course. I think you would be a great Avenger."

"Thanks Steve, but I don't others would give me a chance."

"I'll talk with them don't worry." You smiled at him and he smield back, then he left, so he could talk with others about his idea.

"You're joking, right?" Sam asked, not believing what Steve just said.

"Let's give one chance, only one." Steve was serious, deadly serious.

"There's no way it would end in a good way, Steve." Natasha added.

"Let's take him on one mission. If he would try some of his tricks, he would go back to his cell a then to jail." That discussion was going for around 20 minutes, when finally others decided to agree with Steve idea. They didn't seem to be excited about giving you a chance.

Around week later, you've been taken on your first mission. You were stressed, but Steve was trying his best to comfort you by talking with you. You ended up with Steve, Bucky and Sam in some abandoned hospital. You needed to slip up and you went with Steve. Both of you used stairs to get into the basement and went of the room that were there. Everything was dark, but luckily the lights were working. "You think that we'll able to find something in here?" Steve asked you, but he heard nothing from you. Instead he heard metal door close. "(Y/N)?" He asked taking his shield and then getting kicked right in the face, which made him hit the desk behind before falling on the floor. It made his earbud fell out of his ear, but before he could even try and get it back, it was smashed by (Y/N)'s shoe. He wa trying to reach and get his shield back, but it was too far waya from him. "I hope you won't take this personal." You smirked before kicked Captain America in the face once again, but harder which made his nose bleed. "So it was all lies?"

"Yeah, nobody made me kill others, but I made people kill others, before I killed them. Just so you know, I just like killing."

"So it was your plan from the beginning? To make me fall for you?"

"Yes, but you also made me fall for you. I wanted to chance it, I even wanted to chance, but my first plan won." You kneeled so you could look into his gorgeous blue eyes. "Before I kill, I want to tell you plan. You deserve to hear it after all. Basically I want to kill every Avenger, because your getting too much in my way. It's way easier to trick police than trick you." Steve really didn't want to do it, but he saw not other way, but to punch you in the face. You hardly hit the floor, but quickly got up. Steve after stood up and got his shield. "I'm gonna feel bad after killing you. If you wouldn't make me love you, it would much easier." Steve threw his shield at you and hit your right in the abdomen, making you cower a bit. "You talk too much."

"I know, I know. Just shut up." You chuckled.

"You know that we don't have to do this? I really don't want to hurt you."

"Even after everything I did to you?"

"Yes, I still want to help. Just let me do it."

"Stop believing in me!" You cried out and took gun to your hand, before shoot him into his legs. He leaned on the desk he hit moment ago. He tried to hide himself behind his shield, but took it from him and threw it away. Then you threw away your gun and took knife that you were hiding the whole time.

Everything slowed down. It was the moment you were waiting for almost a month, but it didn't feel the same. You loved him and as much as you wanted to kill him in the beginning, now with the same passion, you wanted to kiss him. You knew you wouldn't bring yourself up to kill. You smirked to yourself before saying "Fuck you, Steven Grant Rogers." Then you stabbed him around his abdomen, you knew that this would kill him. You knew anatomy too well and you knew where you should thrust, so you wouldn't kill him. Right after that you left, hoping that someone is going to find Steve.

Steve woke up in the hospital, Bucky sitting on chair next to his best friend's bed and Sam was standing next to him. Other Avengers were on their way to hospital. "You alright, punk?" Bucky softly smiled at his friend and put his hand on his shoulder. "I felt worse. You found (Y/N)?"

"You're worried about him, after everything he done to you? He almost killed you." Sam said, Steve shook his head. "He told me that he loves me. If he wanted me dead, he could have shoot me in the head, but he didn't. He cares."

"So what are going to do?" Bucky looked at Sam with confusion on his face, before looking at Steve again.

"I'll find him and I'll help him no matter what. I believe that he can chance. He just needs to believe in himself."

[fairydxll]

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

↳ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | uh fighting? Lmk if anything.

↳ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2124

𝐚/𝐧 ~ sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. But I'm back now!

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

<- previous chapter

After a couple of days, Rory kinda got used to her new "home." Since Tony didn't know how long it would be before they went back to California, and with Pepper gone, they decided it was best if Rory just took a break from school.

Rory did eventually grow to like her new room. She was not allowed to leave the current floor, so she basically just spent all of her time there. Tony was gone all day and didn't get home until very late at night, meaning Rory had to have food delivered. She didn't mind, though. She figured that if they end up staying, she'll be able to tell Tony what all the good restaurants are.

Tony never told her anything about why they were here with the exception of, "Daddy has business."

So in order to pass the time, Rory would read or watch movies. She even took up drawing which turned out to be something she isn't too bad at.

This morning, Tony was already gone by the time Rory got up, so she got dressed and migrated to the living area. She sat on one of the couches near the large window and began sketching the tall buildings surrounding her.

As she finished the shading on one of the skyscrapers, she peered back up to see a tall man with long, black hair dressed in what looked like a Halloween costume standing on the terrace. Rory put down her sketchbook and looked closer. He was very tall and had large, golden horns that decorated the top of his head. She had no clue as to why this man was standing outside of her window on her father's building.

Rory looked to her right and noticed her father, in the Iron Man suit, land on the landing pad. The man just stood there, watching as machines swiftly removed the armor from Tony's body.

The strange man made his way into the room from the balcony. The room she was in. Rory didn't know what to do. She was frozen, scared. Instead of running away as any sane person would, Rory remained in her chair.

The large man entered the room. He studied his surroundings, his eyes eventually landing on Rory. "Who might you be?" He asked with disdain.

Rory could do nothing but blink at him, too afraid to speak. He opened his mouth to say more, only to be interrupted by the presence of Tony. "Rory, come here," Tony said blankly.

Rory immediately dropped her things and ran to her father's side. Tony wrapped his arm around her protectively, hoping to shield her with his body.

The man watched this all happen before finally speaking, "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity." He spoke as if she weren't there.

"Actually I'm planning to threaten you," Tony responded. Rory couldn't sense any different emotions other than his natural sarcastic tone.

"You should have left your armor on for that," the man bantered, walking closer to Tony and Rory.

"Yeah," Tony pushed Rory behind the bar. "It's seen a bit of mileage, and you've got the glow stick of destiny." Rory crouched down below the bar and pulled her knees into her chest. She couldn't help but let tears stain her cheeks, afraid of what was happening. "Would you like a drink?" Tony asked the man as he walked behind the bar, actively trying to ignore you in hopes you wouldn't become a target.

Rory heard the other man laugh. "Stalling me won't change anything," he said. If Rory knew what it meant, she would describe their conversation as passive-aggressive.

"No, no. threatening." Tony began making himself a drink. "No drink? You sure? I'm having one.

"The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that." His words sounded like gibberish to Rory. "What have I to fear?"

Rory watched her father casually make a drink as if nothing was wrong. "The Avengers. That's what we call ourselves. We're sort of like a team." Rory had no idea what he was going on about. ""Earth's mightiest heroes"-type thing."

"Yes, I've met them."

"Yea," Tony's smile helped calm Rory down. He had to have the situation under control, right? "It takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But let's do a headcount, here. Your brother, the demi-god," demi-god? "A super-soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend." He secretly slipped a metal-looking band on each wrist.

"A man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins, and you, big fella," none of his words were making any sense. "You've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

"Not a great plan," Tony walked past you and out from the bar. "When they come, and they will, they'll come for you."

"I have an army."

"We have a hulk."

Rory finally gathered enough courage and stood up carefully. She peeked her head over the bar to watch the men while also trying to stay out of the way. Tony was approaching the man as they spoke; the man keeping his ground.

"I thought the beast had wandered off," the man said.

"You're missing the point. There's no throne," Tony's voice rose slightly. "There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

Tony took a sip of his drink while the man took a few steps closer, a scowl spreading across his features. "How will your friends have time for me when they're so busy fighting you?"

For the first time since this scene began, Tony looked scared. The man brought his scepter-looking thing up and tapped it against Tony's chest with a clang noise. The man's face dropped for a second before he tried a second time, and then a third. "This usually works."

Tony didn't look scared anymore. "Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon. One out of five--" his sentence was cut short when the man forcefully grabbed Tony's throat and threw him onto the floor. Rory squealed and then immediately covered her mouth.

The man turned his head in Rory's direction with a puzzled look. He turned away from her as soon as Tony stood up and went for his neck again. "You will all fall before me," he said.

"Deploy!" Tony called before the man threw him out the window, shattering the glass. Rory screamed with all her might. Did she just watch her Dad be murdered? What was he going to do to her?

Rory hid behind the bar once more, watching and listening closely to her surroundings. A loud sound rippled through the room causing Rory to throw her hands over her ears to block out the noise. She peeked over the bar and saw nothing but more shards of glass and broken furniture.

The man stared Rory down. "Who are you?"

Rory gulped, "who are you?"

He chuckled. "I am Loki, of Asgard. I'm surprised you have not yet heard of me." His tone was a lot softer with her than it was with her father. "What is your name, little one?"

"Rory," she nervously answered his question. "My name is Rory."

"Let me guess; Stark's child?" She didn't say anything. Rory simply nodded. "Ah I see," he gave you an almost heartwarming smile. "Come here, Rory."

Fearing she had no other choice, Rory walked over to Loki and he crouched down to meet her gaze. He smiled at her. Rory watched her father fly up behind him. She was more than thrilled to see her father alive and more tears fell from her eyes.

"And one more thing," Loki's face dropped and he spun around to face Tony. "Get away from my daughter!" Tony shot at Loki, sending him flying backward. Rory jumped out of the way, too stunned to do anything else. With Loki knocked out, Tony looked towards his daughter, "Rory go hide, now!" He flew away into the sky, and Rory wasted no time in running to her bedroom.

She slammed the door shut and locked it. She looked around her room for anything that she could put in front of the door to make it harder to reach her. Rory tried to move the couch, but it was no use. It was too heavy for a ten-year-old to manage. She tugged on her roots as she spotted her desk chair. Once it was securely tucked under the knob, Rory ran over to her window to watch what was unfolding.

Rory couldn't help herself as she began to sob. She was afraid and she was alone. There was nothing she could do to help. Tons of thousands of aliens flooded the skies and streets of New York as Rory sat up in her bedroom, watching. She was sobbing uncontrollably as she pressed her face and hands into the large window.

More loud noises were flowing from the living area into Rory's bedroom and Rory could do nothing to stop them. She hoped that the man who called himself Loki was gone and that her Dad was alright.

At this moment, Rory really felt like a child. She felt small and helpless. Lonely and afraid. There was nothing else she could do except watch. She had no clue as to what she was watching either, which was not making her feel any better.

At long last, the aliens seemed to dissipate and things seemed to calm down. It looked to Rory like the fight was over. But who won?

Rory was drawn away from her thoughts by the sound of her father's voice calling her name. She nearly sprinted out. She ran up to Tony and engulfed him in the tightest bear hug she could manage. He was still in his suit and covered in dirt, but neither seemed to mind.

"I was afraid," Rory murmured into his neck.

"I know, bubs." They pulled away from the hug and Rory got the chance to really see the other people in the room.

There was a giant-sized man with green skin, a man with a shield, a man with a bow and arrow, a man with a red cape and long hair, and what looked like Natalie, only with shorter hair. They looked odd. As if they were straight out of a movie. She noticed Loki in handcuffs. He looked angry and sad at the same time. Rory didn't really know what he did, but she knew he lost and her dad won.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tony held a silver case in one hand and Rory's in the other as he walked alongside the other Avengers waiting to send Loki away. Tony had made it very clear that from now on, Rory would not be leaving his side.

Rory let go of her Dad's hand to let him deal with the case. Thor, as he had told Rory to call him, led Loki a few feet away from everyone else. He waited for Loki to grab hold of the glass container for the Tesseract. Before she knew it, the pair had disappeared in a storm of blue.

Once everything else was settled, Tony reached for Rory's hand again and walked her over to the rest of the Avengers. "Rory there's some people I'd like you to meet," he motioned to the team. "That's Capsicle, Legolas, Jolly Green, and the Triple Imposter. This is Rory." The others shook their heads at Tony's nicknames.

"Steve," the tall, blonde man smiled and Rory shook his hand.

"Bruce," the shorter man with grey hair politely smiled and waved.

"Yea," Nat showed you a friendly smile to which you returned. "Nice to finally meet you, officially."

"And I'm Clint," the last man with spiky hair and sunglasses introduced himself.

"Hi," you said, shyly and waved at them all.

"Bubs, you go wait in the car I'll be there in a sec," said Tony.

"Okay. It was nice meeting you all!" You said as you walked to the car.

"You ready to go, kiddo?" Tony asked as he got in the car and fastened his seatbelt.

"Are we going home? Like, back to Malibu?" you asked as he started the car and pulled out.

"Yea," he smiled. "I think we deserve a break."

"What about the tower?"

"We're working on it. It'll be fixed in no time."

"Good," you sighed

"Good?"

"I don't mind it anymore. I don't think it would be so bad if we moved here."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Really."

Next chapter ->

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[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Sherlock x Mute!Reader •Part 7•

Metal crashed against metal as you yanked wildly at the handcuff around your wrist until you felt warm blood running down your ice-cold hand.

Silently sobbing you sank back on the bed. The sudden lack of noise made the dark room even scarier.

How have you ended here? What happened and why the hell can't you remember?!

These thoughts got stuck in your head, drove a rollercoaster, and made you feel sick.

Helpless you tried to remember what had happened, tried to puzzle everything together but the last thing you remember was going to bed alone in your flat.

Alone.

The word echoed in your head.

Something in the back of your mind told you that this wasn't right.

There was this feeling, this feeling of being watched. You had it right before you fell asleep.

Suddenly you remember that something was being pressed on your face. You couldn't breathe anymore and smelled something sweet. Panicking you had woken up and saw someone standing next to your bed. He was pressing you down and covered your mouth and nose with a piece of cloth.

It was Jonathan.

You screamed inside your head, wanted to punch yourself for your stupidity of trusting a man you barely knew instead of trusting Sherlock.

Your eyes darted to your left as a door was opened with a loud squeaking sound and bright blue light fell into the room.

A man was standing in the frame and threw a large shadow on the ground.

"Finally awake?", a deep voice asked with a sarcastic undertone and his heavy steps resounded through the room as he walked towards you.

"Oh, it was so easy to twist you around my little finger", he hummed as he tugged on his black curls, pulling down the wig from his head and revealing short blonde hair.

He chuckled as he saw the scared look on your face.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not gonna harm you.", Jonathan pulled a phone out of his pockets and stood there for a while, typing something, before he sat beside you on the bed and turned the camera on, holding the phone away so that you both were visible on the screen.

"As long as Sherlock does what I want."

"Let's play a game, Sherlock.", the man in the video said and grinned evilly.

Watson heard this sentence for at least the 20th time in a row now since Sherlock kept restarting the video which he received 10 minutes ago on his phone.

"Watching it over and over again won't get (y/n) back here.", Mycroft said, trying to bring his little brother back to his senses but Sherlock completely ignored him, restarting the video again.

Annoyed Watson stood up from his chair and snatched the phone out of Sherlock's hand: "That's enough now."

"I should've stayed with her.", Sherlock mumbled under his breath and ran his hands over his face, his black shirt stretched over his back and arms as every muscle in his body tensioned.

Suddenly he stood up and threw his hands in the air: "For god's sake I should've stayed with her!"

"It's not your fault.", Watson tried to calm him down, shook from his unusual behavior.

"Don't fool yourself, Watson, of course, it is! That lunatic is just kidnapping her because of me."

On Sherlock's phone popped up a message from an unknown number and Watson gave it back to Sherlock. He swiftly opened it, just to nearly drop it as he saw the content of the message.

It was a picture of you sitting on the bed, a blanket half over your shoulders and your right hand was laid over the left. It was dark but Sherlock still noticed the handcuffs and the bloody strains underneath them on your skin. Your hair was parted to both sides of your face and you had a smile on your face. A forced smile, your lips were curled up but your eyes showed fear.

The phone rang loudly and Watson jumped.

Sherlock answered the call with a cold expression.

"Such a pretty girl, don't you think?", the man on the other side chuckled darkly.

Sherlock's hand tightened around his cellphone: "Don't you dare to touch her.", his voice had a deadly sound and even Watson needed to gulp since he never heard him talk like this.

"Oh, I won't, what are you thinking of me? But you should hurry.", the man made a dramatic pause. "It's getting really cold in here."

He chuckled again before he hung up.

Slowly Sherlock lowered his hand with the phone and stared blankly out of the window.

Watson didn't dare to speak and waited for Sherlock to tell him what was up, but he stayed silent and the only noise was the beeping of the disconnected phone call.

Without a word, Sherlock turned around, threw his coat over and rushed with fast and heavy steps past Microft and Watson and down the stairs. Watson followed him to the street and just about made it into the cab in which Sherlock had hopped in.

"Where are we going?", Watson asked as the car started driving.

"The national gallery."

Your shaking ice-cold fingers were wrapped around each other, your knees were tugged under your chin and your arms were pressed at your body to keep the warmth inside.

Your teeth silently chattering was the only sound in the room, beside the rattles of your handcuffs around the bed frame sometimes when you shifted your weight.

Jonathan had left you alone hours ago, he said that he needed to prepare something for Sherlock and you were scared of what he had planned, scared of what he might do to him.

His evil laugh still echoed in your head and made you shiver more than the cold air around you.

"If you're ever scared, my love, then count to three and think of me, count to ten and think of a friend, count to a hundred and your fear will be tamed"

You remembered your mum saying this to you whenever you were scared after what had happened to you as a child. After you lost your voice.

Warm tears rolled over your cheeks as you counted to three and thought of her smile and laugh, her warm embrace and her soft voice.

More and more tears rolled down your cheeks and you began sobbing as you thought about Sherlock.

1

Thought about him taking care of you on the day you had burned your hand in the café.

2

Thought about this proud smile he had on his face when you kept the keys for the register.

3

You remembered the day when he got you out of the hospital to eat some chips together.

4

And then took a ride with you on the London Eye. You knew that he had watched you and had a smile on his face as he saw you being so amazed by the night view.

5

You thought about the days you had tried to ignore and allure him since he wouldn't talk to you about the case and ended up being followed by a slightly sad and jealous Sherlock. Now you were sure that he hadn't understood his own feelings at this time and probably was really confused why you made him feel like this.

You chuckled slightly. When you would get out of here alive you would try to seduce him even more, you loved the look on his face when he was too confused about his own feelings.

6

The picture of you sitting on Sherlock's lap, both of you sleeping, popped up in your mind.

This was the moment you got aware of that you really loved him. You never felt so safe and like home before, then in his arms.

The thought of this brought a warm feeling back and you noticed that you had stopped sobbing and shivering.

7

You remembered him entering the café after not having seen or heard from him for over three months and that smile that crawled on his face as he saw you.

8

He had pulled you in this tight hug instead of saying hello and made your heart melt.

9

A loud bang ripped you out of your thoughts and brought you back to the dark and cold reality.

You held your breath and listened to if there were any other noises but everything remained silent.

Just as you gave up on listening a bright light suddenly flooded the room and you had to cover your eyes, pressing your face into the stinky mattress.

Blinking you tried to get used to the lack of darkness and it took you some seconds to see the big tv on the opposite wall.

It showed Sherlock and Watson who just came running into a big white room with paintings on the walls and you immediately noticed that it was a room from the national gallery.

"Will you tell me now why we needed to go here?", Watson asked out of breath as he watched Sherlock examining every painting in the big room.

"The picture.", Sherlock just answered and walked into the next room. "He made her look like the Mona Lisa and where do we usually find paintings?"

"The national gallery", Watson sighted.

Suddenly Sherlock's phone rang and he hesitated for a second to pick up.



"Where's (y/n)?", he asked straight out.

"Oh Sherlock, I'm not gonna make it so easy for you. Don't you remember that I wanted to play a game?", the voice on the other side said with amusement.

Sherlock tried hard to keep a straight face: "I already solved your little puzzle to get here and I don't want to keep on playing."

A loud laugh suddenly echoed out of the speakers from every corner of the room and Watson whirled around.

"If you don't want to play the game then you won't be able to safe (y/n). Aren't you having fun? I thought you liked puzzles, Sherlock."

The voice filled the room with a dangerous atmosphere.

Sherlock remained silent, grinding his teeth.

"I see, good choice.", the voice chuckled. "You know, I'll give you something to think about: she's here, somewhere, and I already told you where."

Sherlock narrowed his eyebrows, he couldn't think of anything right now, the feeling of fear for you had crawled into him and wouldn't let go anymore.

He took a deep breath and placed his hands in a praying position to his lips.

His eyes darted fast over the paintings on the wall to find anything that would show him where you were captured.

But he couldn't find anything.

"There got to be something!", Sherlock muttered and ruffled his hand through his hair in frustration.

A chuckle echoed out of the speakers again: "Oh Sherlock, don't make it so hard for yourself. I said that I already told you where she is."

Sherlock stopped in his actions and his eyes widened.

"Stupid!", he suddenly scoffed. "My god, Watson, why didn't we notice that earlier?"

"What? What didn't we notice earlier? Sherlock!"; Watson shouted after Sherlock who already ran down the hall.

A swear escaped Watson as he chased after Sherlock's flapping coat...

Next chapter will be up next weekend!

Thank you all so much for reading and your nice comments 🥺 ❤

Tag list ❤

@misselsbells06 @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @a-paper-cut @viviace

[sachi-nakamura]

@uwuthatshit @papuru666 I hope you are having a nice time today, maybe this will cheer you up :)

This is a small thing I wrote to expose some of Sachi's thoughts, how she views her relationship with her Master and to show her feelings. If there's support I'll write more scenarios of master/slave (not sexual, not yet) so please reblog ✨ thank you.

⛓️Puppet⛓️

A scenario in the torture chamber

Kanato x Sachi

Master/slave relationship

Not explicit but at least +13

Abusement, sub/dom, not sexual

Words count: 1.335

On random occasions, a sense of sporadic rational thinking comes across my brain, judging me for the decisions I've made in these past days and doubting seriously the poor condition of my mental health, worse each passing day.

Am I doing the right thing?

I couldn't answer my own question when I snapped out my thoughts at the cold feeling of metal handcuffs on my wrists.

I totally forgot I was in his torture chamber.

What a nice place, perfect for the ideal romantic date I've always dreamt about.

If only I didn't give up on that silly idea time ago, now having to conform to this kind of treatment and all the perverse thoughts that come across his mind.

Not so long ago I was just Juliet waiting for her Romeo.

The red haired, green-eyed Romeo.

But as Mom always told me, reading fictional stories and having fantasies is the only way childish women who can't face the real world can experience the ideal version of love they have in their, I quote, stupid and malformed brains.

Well, Romeo and Juliet's love story isn't exactly a good example of an ideal relationship but you get the point.

Oops, I think I've been avoiding my situation (once again), where were we?

Oh yes, the handcuffs. And him.

Not the boy with ginger hair I dreamt about but a porcelain-looking young man, with the most delicately chosen clothes and eyes that glimmer like amethysts.

He looked at me, having to lift his head to look right into my eyes, and I noticed that every time he has to do this motion he  suppresses a frustrated grimace.

Adorable.

-If only you could stay still I wouldn't have to resort to this, even though having you like this is not that inconvenient, it's just another proof of how badly trained you are. What a disgrace, and you call yourself my slave? You should be ashamed.- he was right, I always cover my body unconsciously when he hurts me. Last time was when he was about to brand new one of his latest acquisitions, a beautiful silver dagger, with me, and I couldn't avoid covering my torso with my arms.

As a result, now I have even more scars in my forearms. Cool.

-I'm really sorry, Kanato-sama. I'll try to behave more properly next time.

He ignored my response and adjusted the handcuffs, locking them and putting the little key that would open them (I hope) in his pocket.

I wonder what it's gonna be this time.

A knife, daggers, a whip, hot wax?

Limitless choices, this was like the equivalent for him to being in Disneyland.

The only difference was that in his Disneyland there's only one ride: me.

His slender fingers slowly caressed my left cheek, where I have one of my recent bruises, covered by a boring, white bandaid. My face sure looks miserable.

My Master furrowed his eyebrows as his touch turned more and more aggressive, causing my wound to stink, ignoring the little pained whine that escaped from my lips the exact moment his nails tried to enter into my skin

He hates this wound.

Because he is not the cause of it.

Mom always knows how to find new, exciting ways to torture me, incapable of formulate the minimum attempt of a rational thought and justifying her hatred towards me by declaring herself a saviour sent by God.

I think she is frustrated by the fact that every day, when I leave home to go to school, I always return.

I would bet my entire book collection that what she truly desires is me, coming back home from classes and when I'm about to end crossing the street that separates me from the hell I call home a drunk motherfucker driving a gigantic truck (or better, a school bus full of innocent infants, more dramatic), runs over me and smashes me into the pavement, guts and what once was a functional brain spilled everywhere, an unlucky old woman passing by screaming until she has a heart attack and Mom seeing all the scene from the window of our shitty apartment, smiling slightly (does she know how to smile?) to then look away, keep reading the newspaper, or the Bible, who cares, and lazily sipping her "morning" coffee due to the fact that it is 3:00 am, thinking to herself that all of this was in God's plan.

Anyways, you can start visualising the type of person my mother is, can't you? Of course she wouldn't hesitate to damage my face.

And Kanato hates her for that.

And I love him for that.

-Hey, tell me, Puppet.-I hate that nickname, "Puppet", he can't even grant me the honour of calling me his "Doll".- I'm sure I've already told you several times but up here isn't exactly your place, right, Teddy? -Teddy doesn't say anything, sitting carefully on the table where Kanato lines up all the instruments he plans to use on me whenever we come here.- Yes, Teddy I agree. Time to fix that.-

The second after he said this he pushed me onto the ground, making me stay on my knees, grabbing the chain that is attached to the collar he forces me to wear and lifting it up, making me look up at him forcefully. My neck ached. 

-Now that's better.- he chuckled.- the proper place for a good slave.-

I nodded, immersed in his beautiful purple irises that made me forget about everything else and the fact that I still didn't know what he was planning to do with me tonight.

Then suddenly, without any warning, he slapped my face, right into my bruised cheek.

-Answer with words.-

-I agree, Master.- it hurts.

It hurts so much, everything he does to me.

But how oddly good it feels, to be loved this way.

-What game should we play today, Puppet? You are still sore from yesterday, aren't you? That cut on your back was so deep I almost reached the bone, fufu, lovely, I want to see that sight of you one day, no meat left, only bones… should I end your life by cremating your body? I'll have to think about it...- 

While he was saying such romantic words, he kneeled down to be at my level and started undoing the buttons of my shirt, exposing what I was reserving for my knight in the silver armour some time ago, when I still had hope. A silent tear tragically freed itself, sliding through my face slowly, slowly…

I wanted to be in his doll collection so badly...

Wait, is that the reason?

I'll pretend it is.

He kissed my neck, making me shiver at the contact of his cold lips on one of my most sensitive spots and removed my clothes until only my brassiere stayed in the way. I'm unable to stop his motions, the handcuffs laughing at me and my tragic fate.

Despite that, and I might sound like a fool, I wanted this.

I wanted him to do a hundred things to me. This time, I craved it, for his cold hands to roam my whole body, for the silver dagger he wanted to use on me, for the black whip he uses when he considers I'm being specially naughty that day…

I want...

I…

…

My purple haired Master removed the tear from my face and tasted it, as if my suffering was his nutrient source.

-You won't be able to cover yourself today, and today no one will come to bother us.  So let's have fun, shall we? All night long…- and then, he smiled. I expected a maniac grin but no, he smiled, sweetly.

Like candy.

So I melted into his sugary words and acted like a perfect, still puppet.

For his entertainment.

For the illusion I created in my head.

…

And then, something broke the silence.

Another bloodstain to decorate the room.

And another tear that escaped from my soul…

[the-lady-writes-what]

Cabin Fever, Part One

Yandere Prompt #3: I know they’re uncomfortable, but bare with it for a while. Please?

Requested by no one. I just wanted to write this myself. 

Mirio Togata x Fem!Reader x Tamaki Amajiki

I was originally going to do this as a one-shot, but then my imagination got the better of me and it started to get too long. I don’t want to make you read through a mile of text before you get to the NSFW content, so I’ll write a second part featuring that. There’s some saucy stuff at the end with implications of dub con/non con, but the heavier stuff will come in the second part. 

More Prompts

Part Two

Your eyelids cracked open. You awoke in the back of a car, arms pinned behind your back. City lights all disappeared in favor of giants made of pine lit by moonlight and a huge scattering of stars. A thick woolen blanket was wrapped around you and an actual pillow was placed under your head. With the way you were positioned, you couldn’t see the driver except for the back of his seat. Despite the warmth of the blanket, your feet were cold. That was likely due to the fact that your kidnapper took off your shoes and left your feet bare. 

Shuffling around in the backseat, you tried to squirm. You wanted to move your arms and pull the blanket off you, but you couldn’t. The blanket muffled a dull metal sound. As your senses slowly came back to you, you felt cold metal snapped around your wrists. 

Panic set in quickly. You tried to sit up, however you were so wrapped up in the blanket that you couldn’t move. Like a human burrito. It might have been endearing if you weren’t stuck in the back of a car with your wrists handcuffed behind your back. You craned your neck this way and that to make out even the barest of glances at your captor to no avail. He was quite throughly protected by his large driver’s seat or being very lean and sneaky himself. 

“Where are we going? Who the hell are you?” 

Your captor made no response. He switched on the radio to tune you out. In your predicament, trying to fight would get you hurt or killed. The best way to survive now was to use your brains. Trapped as you were, you could take this time to come up with something. But first, you had to remember how you managed to get into this in the first place. You laid back down, half-listening to whatever happened to be on the radio, and racked your brain. The last thing you recalled was stepping into a parking garage. There was someone with you...who was it? 

You couldn’t move your head high enough to even check the time on the dash. It must have been a while because you found yourself falling asleep again. You didn’t wake up until the vehicle came to stop. You only noticed because the trees stopped zooming past you and the radio turned off. The driver side door closing loudly startled you awake. Your blood was pumping. Your first instinct was to start kicking when your captor came to get you, but that would have only worked if he approached the other side. The door closest to your head was pulled open. A bright light stood overhead, blinding you. It didn’t help the fact that your captor wore a dark hood to prevent you from getting a good look at him. 

With ease and the strength of ten men, you remained in your fuzzy woolen burrito as you were pulled out of the backseat. He heaved you unto his shoulder like a potato sack. You didn’t see much in the dark, however when you looked, your heart sank. Trees, even in the night, were all you could see. Looking up, the number of stars made you believe that you were far from the nearest town. There were too many of them in the sky for you to think you could hitch a ride somewhere and get a hold of the police. You were miles and miles away from civilization. 

Gravel crunched underneath your captor’s feet as he hiked up a little hill. It gave way to carved stone path. It wound its way to a set of wooden stairs. It took those without ever losing his breath while carrying you. Keys jingled. He unlocked a door, which he swung open. 

Cool night air gave way to stifling warmth. You watched as woodwork and rugs greeted you as your head helplessly dangled against his back. You could hear a crackling fire place. Somewhere in the house, someone was making dinner. You smelt the cooking of beef, spices, and bread overwhelm the air. You wriggled while still on top of your captor’s shoulder. He turned into what looked like a living room where he settled you on the couch. At last, he began to peel off the blanket that was slowly cooking you alive now that you were in such a warm room heated by an actual fire. 

“Tamaki, is that you?” Footsteps. 

Wait. You knew that voice. But more importantly...

You whipped your head behind you. Sure enough, Tamaki was there. He didn’t have the guts to turn away for shame or guilt. There was a bright red color to his cheeks, but he almost looked pleased with himself. You opened your mouth to speak but was cut short by the other person entering the room.

“I wasn’t expecting...what is y/n doing here?” Mirio stood there, dumbfounded. He looked like he was in the middle of making the dinner that smelled so lovely. The image was complete with the dish rag thrown over his shoulder and the smear on his cheek. 

“I-I’m sorry, Mirio. I couldn’t...I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t wait,” answered Tamaki. 

It came back to you. You had been walking to your car, alone at night. But the parking garage never had security issues nor would you be a target. Plus, a pro-hero agency was across the street. Blood drained from your face. The agency belonged to Mirio and Tamaki. 

Mirio’s shifted between you and Tamaki. His face was drawn in what looked like disappointment. For a moment, you thought that you were about to see a fall out between friends because Tamaki had taken a joke too far or had gone off the deep end. You expected for Mirio to start a fight and take you to safety, but then he opened his mouth again. 

“It was too soon to bring her here. I told you we needed more time. Now, her co-workers will think something terrible happened to her. Tamaki, what were you thinking?” 

Too soon? More time? Just when you thought that you were saved, Mirio dashed your hope like fragile glass. He still looked disappointed but not because he friend did something highly immoral and illegal. You shuddered to think what they planned out if Tamaki had followed along with it instead of grabbing you prematurely. Mirio walked to the couch and knelt in front of you. The contrast of a man plotting to kidnap you and the image on his knees before you was almost too much for your mind to take. 

"This wasn't quite what I imagined, Y/N, but..." Mirio rubbed circles in your knees. "We'll just have to make the best of it, won't we?"

You shrank out of his reach and pulled your legs up to your chest. You stared in shock at him, one of the top heroes. He graduated near the top of his class how could he consider kidnapping a choice he could make.

"You have to let me go. I won't say anything and we'll forget all about this, but you have to let me go. Now."

Mirio shook his head. "If we did that, you'd move far away and that would be too painful. That is if you don't lie and sneak off to the police. Or Deku. You'd tell him the moment you got the chance."

Your blood ran cold. 

Mirio stood up. His smile no longer any kind of warmth or kindness for you. He turned to head back to the kitchen. 

“I better get back to cooking. I’ll have to make another portion on the spot. I wasn’t expecting more than two plates,” said Mirio. 

That left you alone with Tamaki. Unfortunately, he wasn’t talking to you. He wedged himself into the corner furthest away from you and stuck his head against the wall. This behavior of his would normally invoke pity in you. You hated to see him like that, so afraid to look another person in the face. You couldn’t feel such a way now, not with your hands handcuffed behind your back. Mirio didn’t return for a while to announce dinner. Only when you were at the dinner table did Tamaki gingerly uncuff one of your hands. He released your dominant hand so you could eat but cuffed the other end to the dining room chair’s arm. You pouted at the instrument of your imprisonment. 

“I promise we’ll explain later,” said Mirio. 

You almost didn’t want to eat. You could have thrown the plate in front of you across the table, then thought better of it. Two strong pro-heroes and you didn’t even a good quirk to beat them back. You didn’t have a quirk at all. You were a lamb in a lion’s den. Choosing the path of least resistance, you ate quietly. Tamaki reached over to the hand he cuffed to the chair. He was shaking and couldn’t be brave enough to look at your face. You felt his sweaty, clammy palm hold your hand in his shaky grip. All you could do was play along for now.

The minutes ticked by and slowly, so slowly, turned into hours. Immediately after dinner, Mirio and Tamaki were preparing to go to bed. You were still handcuffed to the dining room chair. You watched them tidy up and wash the dishes as if you weren't trapped in their house in the middle of the woods. But the time eventually came when Mirio uncuffed you and rubbed your wrists. He was smiling so genuinely, but it didn't escape your notice that he put the handcuffs in his back pocket.

Mirio gently took your hand guided you to the bedroom. He went to the dresser and pulled out a large flannel shirt.

Handing it to you, Mirio said, "I'll be right back. You can change in here. I promise I won't peak."

He turned, exited, and closed the door. You looked down at the shirt in your hands. You didn’t trust him, not with that quirk of his. To think once upon a time you were ecstatic that he was able to get his quirk back. Now, it only reminded you that he could take a peek if he really wanted to and might not even notice until it was too late. But you were shivering in your thin shirt and jeans. You ditched your clothes and put on the flannel shirt that reached to the top of your thigh. A few minutes later the bedroom door swung open again. Tamaki and Mirio had both changed as well. Tamaki wore a matching set of blue flannel pajamas while Mirio opted for dark gray sweatpants and no shirt. 

Mirio was behind you in a second pulling your wrists together behind your back. You struggled for a minute before the cuffs were snapped right back on. He rubbed your arms as he guided you to the large bed big enough for a six-person orgy. Before you knew it, you were nestled between Tamaki against your back and Mirio pressed against your front. Mirio was the one who kept his arms around you while Tamaki buried his face in you shoulder. None of this stopped you from wriggling around and trying to snap the handcuffs. 

“I-I know they’re uncomfortable,” Tamaki murmured against your skin. “J-just, just bare with it for a while. Please?” 

That didn’t stop you from wriggling around. You brushed against Tamaki’s crotch, making him hiss. Then, something hard pushed against your lower back. Mirio’s hand snaked its way to the back of your head where his fingers gently coiled in your hair. He titled your head up to make you look him in the eyes. Your struggles ceased. 

“Tamaki, I think we should do something to help Y/N simmer down and go to sleep. She won’t be wriggling around so much if she releases some of that pent up energy.” 

“D-Do you think so?” Asked Tamaki. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to try!” Mirio kissed you on the mouth, tongue brushing your lips before forcing its way past them.