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yandere-sickness · 9 months

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You Will Never Leave Me Again! (Finale)

(I decided to not add Red Velvet in this.)

It has been a few months since Dark Choco Cookie’s failed escape. Over that time, he tricked his father and the Watchersinto thinking that he had succumbed to Stockholm Syndrome.

Because of that, there wasn’t as many Watches guarding his room as before. He remembers all of the watches, who were guarding his room, shifts. He knows when they start their shift, when they walk past his room, when they changed shifts, and when the night shifts ends.

‘It’s almost time….’ Dark Choco Cookie thinks to himself. In the night schedule he made he saw that during 2:30am and 2:35am their will be no guards outside his room. Their is also a secret passage behind a painting right outside of his room.

The passage will take him to the first floor where he would take another secret passage that would take him to the wall, then he would make a run for it to the forest.

“It’s time…” Dark Choco Cookie said, dramatically pulling the hood of his hoodie over his head, covering his face.

Dark Choco Cookie made his way across the hallway, over to a large portrait of him. Ever since he was brought back to his “home”, he realised that there we’re hundreds of portraits of him. It creeped him out but kept his mouth shut because he didn’t know how Dark Cacao Cookie would react to be told to take them down.

The prince quickly but quietly slid the portrait to the side, revealing a hidden passage.He crawled into the tight space, making sure to slide the portrait back to it original place.

After crawling through the passaged for what seemed like hours, he heard a voice through the wall. He found a small creak in the walls a peeked through it.

“WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY YOU COULD’T FIND HIM?!” Dark Cacao Cookie’s voice can be heard around the Citadel.

Only a few minutes ago, he was walking towards his beloved son’s room. Wanting to read some books with him like in the past. Once he opened the bedroom door, he was met with a room that had no Dark Chocolate Cookie. The King quickly looked everywhere in the room, looking for his baby only to find nothing.

He quickly called for Caramel Arrow Cookie.

”Your Majesty! What is the problem?” Caramel Arrow Cookie asked. Dark Cacao Cookie pointed inside the her Prince’s room, “Take a look.”

Caramel Arrow Cookie walked into the room, wondering what has happened. She quickly found out what was wrong when she finds that Dark Choco Cookie was not in is room.

“I shall get the Watchers!” Caramel Arrow Cookie stated, turning around to look at her King. Dark Cacao Cookie simply nodded his head, a look of worry plastered on his face.

Once the search inside the a Citadel was done, The second Watcher reportes back to Dark Cacao Cookie, saying that they have not found the prince.

Dark Choco Cookie looked away from his father and went back to crawling. He had thought that is dad was busy with his duties and that he wouldn’t visit him. Looks like he was wrong.

Soon he had reached the end of the passage and began to listen to see if any of the watchers would be passing by.

After a minute of not hearing anything, he opened the passageway door/ portrait and crawled out of the tight space.

He stepped into the empty hallway. No Watchers were in the hallway. He could still hear his father ordering the watchers to find him.

Soon… he will be free….

The look of determination shined in Dark Choco Cookie’s eyes as he opened another passaged way, this one will take him to the wall and then…. he will run.

After crawling in the more colder passage and closed the passage door, he hears Caramel Arrow Cookie’s voice.

“My Prince! Please come back to us! We just want to protect you!” Her voice rang out as she made her way through the hallway, unaware of the passaged way her prince is in.

Dark Choco Cookie held his breath until he heard Caramel Arrow Cookie’s footsteps away from the hallway. Once she left, he let out a big sigh of relief. Once making sure no one will enter the hallway again, he carried on his mission to escape his “home”.

He had always imagined going back to the Dark Cacao Kingdom when he was once apart of the Cookie’s of Darkness. But this was not how he expected it would be. This place was more like a golden cage rather than a home.

No matter how beautiful the cage is, a cage will always be a cage.

After a long time crawling, he had finally reached the end of the tunnel. He was at the wall…. the last obstacle in his plan before he will be free…

Quietly, he stepped out of the tunnel and looked around for any watchers, only to find none.

‘They must be looking for me inside of the Citadel.’ Dark Choco Cookie thought to himself.

He took a look around, looking for an exit. They were swords, bows and an bucket full of arrows, spears, armour and… an exit!

Dark Choco Cookie silently cheered and he ran towards his freedom. Soon he will be free! He would no longer have to deal with a heavy crown that chained him to the Dark Cacao Kingdom. No longer will he have to deal with his father’s love bombing(platonic! Dark Cacao Cookie and Dark Choco Cookie are canonically related!), something that child him would kill for.

After a bit of running and somehow not bumping into any watchers, he made it past the wall(got lazy here plus this part three went on for quite awhile!) He was at the top of the wall, looking down at a thick forest next to the licorice sea below him. He had a rope in hand, that was tied to a pillar on the wall.

Carefully, he began to climb down the wall, making sure to not make any loud sound, he didn’t want to cause anymore trouble as he had so far.

Once he reached the ground he heard someone shout, “HE PRINCE! HE ESCAPED!” Looking up, he saw a group of Watchers, calling his name and running away to get more Watchers once they realised that this will turn into a chase.

Dark Choco Cookie gave the rope a hard pull, making it come lose and falling onto his feet. He scrambled to get the rope back into his bag as he heard the Watchers combing closer to the Kingdom’s entrance.

Once the rope was put away, Dark Choco Cookie ran faster than he had ever ran before. He heard the Watchers fellow behind him but their footsteps were getting farther and farther away as Dark Choco Cookie was faster than them.

Soon The Watchers no longer had him in their line on sight, losing the prince. They returned back to the King with empty hands, ready to face an angry King.

After the Watchers’ told Dark Cacao Cookie the news, he quickly left the room, saying that he wants to be alone. He stopped by a portrait of baby Dark Choco Cookie next to his father’s sword, trying to grab it with his cubby arms.

“Oh my baby, why did I fail you again….” Dark Cacao Cookie said, face full of sadness and grief.

“Why did I let you leave me again!”

#dark cacao cookie #dark choco cookie #cookie run kingdom #crk #yandere #yandere dark cacao

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aaronburrdaily · 7 months

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October 10, 1809

Göteborg (which is the Swedish spelling), October 10, 1809. Couche at 1/2 p. 10. Rose at 6. At 10 called on Madame Daily. She anticipated the object of my visit (so far, I mean, as regards business), by offering her services to take anything, parcels or letters, for me to England. This is just what I wished, finding that I must still disencumber myself of papers and small articles. On her fidelity and punctuality I can rely. Sat an hour. Home and went to overhauling papers and baggage to see what I could spare. A very embarrassing business. I can never decide what to leave and what to take. If you were here—ah, why are you not ?—you would settle all this in a single minute, and all would be right. But I take up a paper and hold it, turning and twisting it, for 10 minutes, and am still undecided. Already I have had occasion to regret the want of a paper which is among those sent off by Barry. This makes me still more cautious and indecisive. If there were an opportunity direct to the United States, I should be at no loss. But there is no such thing, nor can I find any mode of communication to you but through England; a mode to which, you know, I have very serious objections. At 1 P.M. walked to the harbour to hunt up the Americans who are here. Saw none of them, but got the names of six captains, not one of my acquaintance. Left my address for them at the tavern which is their rendezvous, and at the same place consoled myself with bread and cheese, and Swedish ale, 16 sch. which counts for afton.¹ Home at 1/2 p. 2 and went to work again at my papers, but made no progress. Lüning came in at 5, having been running about, as usual, for me. He walked to see Lehman, a Bremener, who is to be my comp. de voyage.² It won't do. He has a lady in charge, and will travel in a way which will not suit me. He goes at 4 to-morrow morning. Will forward a letter for me to Hauterive. In our walk we met a man of Lüning's acquaintance whose name is Bollman; a circumstance I did not learn till we got home. Will see him again to inquire. L. and I agreed to treat ourselves to a supper of oysters and Rhenish wine. Sent out for both. Two bottles of wine cost 3 dollars. About a peck of oysters, 3 dollars; rather an extravagant meal. After all was served, L., who had taken all the trouble, and affected to be very keen, acknowledged that he was unwell; could neither eat nor drink, and must go to bed, which he did at 7. So you see all his zeal for the supper was to gratify me. I made him drink a bottle of warm sangaree, made of our wine. Made my supper. The oysters are very small, generally of a greenish colour, and always a strong coppery taste; just like the English. I tried them roasted and raw, but could only get down nine. Of the wine I drank two-thirds of a bottle. Wrote my letter to Hauterive, enclosing a copy of that which I wrote him from Stockholm, and at 1/2 p. 10 took it to Lehman's, but all were abed. Knocked; no answer, and so came off. Must be up at 4 to secure the conveyance of it.

1 For aftonmåltid. Supper. 2 For compagnon de voyage. Traveling companion.

#aaron burr #the private journal of aaron burr

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umichenginabroad · 4 months

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Stockholm Week 3: Travel Preps!

Hej! I can’t believe it’s already February. Time flew by as I made more unforgettable memories in Stockholm :)

I am definitely getting more used to school and living like a local (we went through so much recycling in the past three weeks).

But for now, I'll dive right into my third week:

1/29 Mon: Freedom in Gamla Stan

During lunchtime, my friends and I visited Matchaya to get bubble tea and lunch. It was only a 10/15 minute walk from the DIS building! Very convenient. The bubble teas were AMAZING and the ramen was good too :)

My first bubble tea (Mango passion fruit) in Stockholm was a huge success <3 They put chunks of real mango in the drink too!!

I’ve always wanted to go back to Gamla Stan to go into some specific stores that I passed by when I was with my friends, hence I went to Gamla Stan again. Granted that I have been there multiple times now, I didn’t need Google Maps to use the metro or get to the stores. In a small souvenir shop, I found the perfect key chain for my housing key!

It’s a tiny little fuzzy Viking friend!

As I walked in the warm sunshine and the occasional breezes, I could feel the definition of peace of mind. It was exactly what I came to study abroad for and I was suddenly on the verge of tears due to pure happiness. It was an inexplicable moment :)

1/30 Tue: Searching for the One

I had never imagined that finding a cream-colored puffer in XS size would be this hard.

There was this white jacket that I saw in UNIQLO during my arrival shopping, and it had been living in my head rent-free since then. I have visited other stores to look for jackets with similar properties but I never succeeded. Moreover, UNIQLO was out of the size I was looking for both online and offline. When I went to the website and applied the filters it said “VERY LOW STOCK” in the mall. I had no option other than to go to the Mall of Scandinavia to look for the exact jacket. I had to try!

I took the astonishingly smooth commuter train for the first time, and it only took 25 minutes in total. Much to my joy, I was able to snatch the last one at the mall!

1/31 Wed: Let’s Book Everything

I didn’t have any field trips today, so I had a great time waking up late in the morning (afternoon to be exact).

I appreciate the sun so much more than I did back in the States

My roommate and I had a conversation the day before about going to Austria, Vienna together as a weekend trip. We searched through Ryanair (at 1 am) and found the best flight that perfectly suits our class schedules. It gets better: it was $65 per person for a round trip to Vienna! That’s what I call a deal.

Next, I called my dear college friends back home. They have been talking about going to London ever since my study abroad in Sweden was confirmed. My friend and I scheduled a time on Wednesday with Google Calendar (this is what we need to do when we each have 10 billion events going on in our lives) to finalize the trip. Again, Ryanair did its trick and I got my flights booked in an hour.

** Ryanair is recommended if you are on a tight budget AND don’t have a lot of stuff! I’m only bringing my backpack since these are all weekend trips :)

My roommate and I also had a fabulous dinner, ramen.

As you can see from the photo, we had a feast

2/1 Thu: Self-Care Day

My morning film class was canceled today, so I had the pleasure of turning off all the alarms. For once I had plenty of time to make breakfast.

*･+:*｡･ Golden French toast *｡･:*+*

When I was done with my late afternoon three-hour core course, I really didn’t feel like doing anything. So I didn’t!

The view from the DIS building

We just cooked together following an Instagram recipe

(could have used thinner meat)

and watched Memento together. It played with my mind too many times… I highly recommend it + a video essay that unfolds the movie from a different perspective!

2/2 Fri: Banksy!

To make up for the work I didn’t do last night, I woke up at 5 am to finish my homework.

Sunrise view at 7:30 am

After class, I briefly ate lunch and headed to The Mystery of Banksy.

I had no prior background knowledge about Banksy, which allowed the museum trip to be a fun learning experience. There was a lot more political and social criticism than I imagined in Banksy’s artworks. The pop-up ends on February 4th, so if you are interested check out the Banksy website!

Here are the pictures we took:

My roomie even brought her camera!!! I was so jealous

2/3 Sat: Fika with Friends

Of course, I went to Gamla Stan again. I was invited for a fika brunch and there was no reason to say no.

We walked around until there were seats available at Fika and Wine.

The food and the desserts were all flavorful.

After devouring everything, we strolled around the city to digest. All four of us took pictures of each other at the same time and the conversations we had were too funny.

So much laughter <3

I started turning around and around while my friend was taking pictures of me - it resulted in me getting a new nickname of rotisserie chicken.

The picture depicts a chicken in the midst of rotating

Your answer better be YES to this question!

Maybe it was the turns that led me to lose my transportation card. That’s right, I lost my 90-day SL card. Thankfully, I registered for the replacement guarantee during the first week because I knew it was bound to happen at some point (but not this early ;-; ). I went to the SL Customer Service Center in Central Station, near the T-Centralen metro station, and got my 90-day plan transferred into a new card for $2.

Sending love to my roomie who stayed with me until the problem got fixed. Couldn’t have done it without you <3

2/4 Sun: More Planning (Hopefully the Last)

I finally finalized all the details for my Spain trip during the Exploration Travel Week Break! I got the flight and the hotel in Barcelona, and I am extremely excited for this trip. Going to Spain has been on my bucket list for a while now, and I can’t describe how THRILLED I am. I will write more about it when the time comes :)

My plans for the rest of today are doing more homework and maybe getting dinner with my friends at a Ghanaian restaurant.

I hope you enjoyed my relaxing but vibrant third week! The past three weeks in Stockholm have been exactly what I came to study abroad for, and I wouldn’t change this experience with anything.

I hope to share more of my everlasting memories with you!

Vi ses,

Jiwoo Kim

Chemical Engineering

DIS Study Abroad in Stockholm, Sweden

#UmichEnginAbroad #IPEStockholm #JiwooKim #IPEWinter24 #Sweden

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bimswritings · 3 years

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Savage Opress x Reader: Pt.2

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Yandere Themes, Language

PT.1

Presents and Possessions

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Life aboard the ship of the Zabrak brothers wasn’t what you had been expecting.

Savage had told you that you were to serve him, be there for his every call, but so far he had neglected to have you do anything. As far as servants went, your duties were next to nothing, and you hardly saw him on a regular basis.

His appearances were sparse appearing every other day. There were times when you would go days, even a week without seeing him. When you did he was, for a lack of better words, clingy.

The first few nights he had to wrestle you to get you to lay down, struggling against your squirming figure even with his superior strength. At first you had feared that he would try to pull something, leaving many sleepless nights for you as you remained stiff and on guard. As time progressed without incident, you found yourself becoming more relaxed, falling into a routine of sorts.

You would spend the day doing whatever it is you could find to occupy yourself in the room, be it reading one of the stray books he would bring or trying to maintain your physical skills and strength earned from years working in the mines. That strength could be your saving grace if you need to fight your captor, should he decide to flip the script and try to pull something one day. Then, at night or random intervals during the day, Savage would return. He would spend a majority of the time ranting, pacing back and forth across the room as he complained about one thing or another. All the while you would sit on the bed, silently listening.

On particularly rough days, he would forego any words and just drag you into his arms, holding you there for hours and not saying anything. It was as if the rest of the world was shut out to him at those times, ignoring your squirming as his horns poked into your skin, all the while his face remained bruised in the crook of your neck.

Even with having to deal with the clingy Zabrak, you were far from mistreated on the ship.

Visits with your brother were held once a week, either in your own room or in his own barracks. Sometimes he would even lead you to one of the various training rooms, excitedly bouncing up and down as he showed you whatever new skill he had learned from the Mandalorians. Savage would come along on those trips a few times, watching from the corner of the room in silence as you caught up with one another. Jay seemed to be in better health than he was back home, even putting on some weight between the regular meals and all the training he was doing. His strength was ever growing, and you had to put in some actual effort when wrestling with him.

Now that he wasn’t an enemy in their eyes, he was quick to earn the other warriors respect, often earning greetings as you walked side by side through the halls. There was still some bad blood between you both and some of the soldiers, namely the same blond man who had injured you back on your planet, but it was only to be expected. They never dared to bother you though, resorting to scathing glares as they walked past, Jay leading you through the halls with practiced ease, something that you found yourself slightly jealous of.

The only times you ever really left the room were to visit your brother, neglecting to explore more of the ship even though the doors remain unlocked. The fear of getting yourself into trouble or stumbling upon one of the guards with ill intent was too real in your mind, and the unknown territory did nothing to put your mind at ease. After spending the majority or your life on the same planet, in the same village, following roughly the same routine year after year, it made you cautious around the unknown simply because you didn’t know how to deal with it.

Unfortunately, the behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Savage as you had though. Hoping he just didn’t care about what you did when he wasn’t around, or that he was providing ample time to acclimate to the new surroundings, all theories were crushed after he broached the topic a month into your stay.

“Why do you never leave this room? The doors are unlocked, and you are allowed to wander. It’s not as if you could escape, even if you wanted to.” He spoke, turning towards you and pulling you from the daze you had been caught in.

The question came out of the blue, and you had debated on lying to him. There was no point though, as withholding the truth did nothing to better the situation. So, with a small shrug of your shoulders you answered.

“I know no one here but my brother, and he finds himself more and more busy each day. If I were to run into anyone or get into any trouble, I fear what might happen. After all, I doubt the others, especially your brother, have any such fondness for me. I have no position on this ship.”

He said nothing, only staring at you a moment longer, eyes narrowed, before turning back to resume getting ready for bed.

You shrugged it off, figuring that he would drop the subject now that he had his answer. There was no reason he should have any concerns over your behavior further than that, and he acts no different when he pulls you into his chest that night, letting out a sigh as you begin humming lightly. Something you had done for Jay whenever he had trouble sleeping, and while trying to sooth yourself in the early nights of your forced companionship you discovered that he enjoyed it as well. The better mood he was in, the better things were for you, and you would be lying if you said that all the nights spent with him hadn’t warmed you up to the large Sith a bit, even if rationally you knew it was just a result of dependence and Stockholm.

Sleeping soundly as ever, it comes as almost a shock when he wakes you in the morning. Normally he would leave without so much as a word, so to be greeted with the sight of him standing above you, already dressed and shaking your shoulders roughly, was a bit of a surprise.

“Get dressed.” Is all he says, throwing the clothes in his hands into your lap before turning around to wait, facing the wall as you slip from your sleeping garments.

You do as he says, shedding your clothes and quickly slipping into the ones he had given you. The material was softer and nicer than anything you had ever owned, though still thick and heavy, providing warmth from the ever present cold of space. Upon closer inspection, you notice some stitching running all over the black fabric, which suspiciously resembles the same markings of his own skin.

How long had he had this? And why was he giving it to you now?

Before you can put too much thought into it, he’s turned back around. Golden eyes give you a once over, a small lift to his lips as he takes in your form before turning back to the door.

“Come.” Is all he says before exiting, leaving you to scramble and catch up as you pull on your shoes before running after him.

Once you do catch up, you still struggle to keep pace with him. His longer legs cover the same amount of ground as two of yours and he’s no slow walker. Taking place just behind him to his right, you catch him looking back over his shoulder to you. Now, certain that you’re following along, he begins pointing out different areas as you pass. Meeting rooms, offices where more notable figures could be found, even the control and engine rooms.

After a time of walking around the ship, you follow him to one of the previously mentioned training rooms to find Maul waiting for him.

“I see you managed to coax the little lolth out of her den.” His eyes flicker to you, practically burning into your skin and prompting you to hide behind Savage’s larger form. Said man ignores his brother’s words, instead directing you to stand by the door and out of the way as he removes some of his bulkier armor.

For the next two hours they spar, switching between simple hand-to-hand combat and using their lightsabers, which crackle and spark with every clash. Not only was the sight of such weapons enough to amaze you, having never seen anything but simple weapons and the occasional blaster from traders, but the strength that both Zabrak possess. While Maul is clearly strong, he still relies on his superior agility to remain out of Savage’s grasp, who’s not as jumpy but just as dangerous, crushing metal floors and walls a plenty with both raw strength and an invisible force.

You can’t help but watch with wide eyes at the display of raw power, unaware of exactly how much both men were showing off. Savage in earnest, taking secret pride in the way you watched, and Maul in more of a teasing way. He knew what his younger brother was doing, bringing you with him, and while he might have found it annoying if it was anyone else, he found it quite humorous in this case.

After both men conceded and caught their breath, Savage approached and took back the armor you had been holding for him until then. All the while you tried to avoid watching the way his now uncovered chest stretch and pulled with every movement, soon hidden beneath his many layers of clothing once again. At least you were able to confirm the theory about the markings, with identifiable parts matching up against the ones on your own clothing.

Despite the embarrassment of the subtle claiming, it was also a bit infuriating for him to do so without even telling you. It’s not like you could complain though. He technically owned you through the twisted rules of conquest.

The day wasn’t done however as you soon found yourself surrounded by others in the middle of what you surmised was a war meeting, standing just behind Savage as he discussed their next move with the others. No wonder he always came back so wound up. Just listening to all the arguing going on was enough to give anyone a headache, just like the one that was quickly coming to surface and pushing behind your own temples painfully.

Even with all the arguing going on, you were still aware of the stares you received and the whispers that followed. You tried not to pay them much mind to it, knowing they wouldn’t try to pull anything or speak out with Savage there. The same couldn’t be said for Maul, who did nothing to hide his disinterest as he continuously stole glances your way, clearly relishing in the discomfort he caused you.

By the time it was over, your legs were ready to fall off, feeling like jelly after spending hours standing during the meeting, which had stretched into late afternoon. Savage, seeming to sense your exhaustion, swept you off your feet and over his shoulder, all the while you were too tired to protest. Before you even made it back to the room you were out, the excitement of the day taking its toll and leaving Savage to deal with you, leaving both of you in your clothes from the day as he situated you in bed before curling his own form around yours.

If you had thought that your little adventure was just a one day thing, then you were dead wrong, treated to the same rude awakening, rushed out the door and forced to follow Savage around as he goes about his task.

This pattern repeats day after day, and he gradually begins giving you instructions and tasks. You’re led all over the ship, sent from one end to another on various orders for different people. Slowly, you start to become more comfortable and familiar with the surroundings. Finding your way around the ship is no longer a daunting task, with dark and ominous hallways that all looked the same becoming a well visualized mental map.

During the entire time you were learning, Savage was surprisingly patient. Not once did he get angry if you got lost, or took a while finding your way back. He simply just reminded you or where or what was needed in the same short tone he always used.

It took longer than you would care to admit, but eventually you caught on to what he was doing. He was getting you more familiar to the ship in his own way, practically forcing you to know the layout and interact with its occupants while turning you into his unofficial assistant. Thinking about it though, it is what he had said you would be doing in the first place.

Despite recognizing it as a form of slavery still, it made you feel lighter inside that he went out of his way to introduce the concept slowly, instead of just throwing you in headfirst. The feeling was quickly washed away as you remember who he was, beyond his interactions with you. A warlord and Sith who brought nothing but ruin to other planets, seeing them as nothing more than another part of their conquest and unfeeling for those he killed. Your planet was just one of the many to fall to their march.

Becoming familiar with the ship, there were obviously places that became your favorite to visit when there was time. Finding Jay, just to simply watch him progress while he trained and catch up, was the first thing you would do when given the time. Being around him also meant you were around the other Mandalorians, and you grew familiar with some, even friendly as they now extended their own greetings when seeing you run through the halls. It was comforting in a way, not feeling so isolated anymore.

Still, there were times where you simply wished to be by yourself. To take a break and attempt to forget the current situation you were in. The best place to do that was the large view port near the front of the ship.

It was a large window, spanning the entire length of the wall. You had discovered it by accident after getting lost once, taking a half hour to find your way back as there was nothing of importance close by and as a result there was little foot traffic. The lack of people made it perfect for thinking, and provided a beautiful view of the space beyond. It helped the wanderlust you held for the galaxies beyond, places you had never seen, nor had you ever thought you would see.

It was here you currently found yourself, relishing in the dim light of the stars passing outside and the atmosphere that came along with it. Savage would be expecting you back soon, but you could stretch it out a bit longer. Even if you were a bit late, he would only give a side look without saying anything against it.

So lost in the view beyond, you didn’t hear a set of footsteps approaching. Not until he speaks do you realize he’s even there.

“Nice view, eh?”

You jump, turning to face the young Mandalorian who holds his hands up in defense. Having never seen him before, even among the ranks of those who regularly populated the barracks and halls.

“I didn’t mean to startle you!” He smiled lightly, eyes crinkle at the action. “Just saw you standing all by yourself and figured you might want some company.”

Not really, you think to yourself. You came here to be alone after all, but there was no reason to be rude, especially since he had only approached with concern. Why not humor him with some small talk?

“It’s alright.” You smiled back, relaxing against the wall once again and content to continue the conversation. His questions are harmless, hardly even bordering on personal, but the way he seems to grow closer by the second puts a knot in your stomach, prompting you to slowly inch away. If he notices your discomfort he doesn’t mention it, only continuing his actions as his questions quickly turn more personal. Things such as ‘’do you have a boyfriend’ and ‘Which of the rooms are you assigned to?’.

“Listen, it’s been nice talking to you, but I really have to get back to work.” Sidestepping, you try to move around him, only for his hand to latch onto yours. You try to pull away, only for his grip to tighten painfully.

There’s no one around to help nor hear your struggles, and you curse yourself for allowing such a situation to occur. It’s one of the things you had been fearful of in the first place! There was still little you could do about the situation, fearful of the repercussions if you actually hurt him. But then again, Savage wouldn’t let them touch you, right? Surely he of all people would understand the need to protect yourself. He might even be glad you stood up for yourself! With that in mind, you swallowed thickly before drawing your arm back.

“Let go!” You cry, bringing your free hand down to deliver blow after blow. Each strike only bounces harmlessly off his armor, and it's only when you clock him across the face with a force that snaps his head back does he react.

He grunts, one hand coming up to staunch the blood now flowing freely from his now crooked nose. Long gone is the friendly smile, and in its place is a teeth gritting snarl as he tries to pull you closer.

“Listen here you little bitch! Why don’t you jus-”

He never gets to finish his sentence. Instead, he’s lifted into the air by seemingly nothing, eyes wide in shock, before being thrown against the wall with a force that shakes the ground.

It all happens in a split second, leaving no room to process what had just happened before your attention is drawn to thunderous footsteps approaching.

Savage’s aura is dark and menacing, almost tangible as he gets closer. It reminds you of the Rynic back home. Dangerous beast with razor sharp horns and needle like teeth. They were ill-tempered on the best of days, and it was better to just avoid them, should they take you as a threat and charge.

He was like that now, the intention to kill glaring, seeming more like his brother than ever before.

He says nothing, not even sparing a glance at the dazed Mandalorian who’s still pinned against the wall, bleeding nose now the least of his worries as the angry Sith comes closer. It's now you realize that he’s using whatever he had when fighting Maul. The Force, you had heard him call it before. Not something you were well versed in to give a lecture on, but knew enough about from the whispers of traders and those aboard the ship alike.

“How dare you.” He growls. “How dare you touch what is mine!”

It’s now you notice his clawed hand, fingers constricting even tighter in the air as he approaches and prompts more choking noises from the trapped man. His own hands pull uselessly at his throat, trying to free himself from the invisible force preventing him from breathing. His efforts are to no avail, and he’s left at the mercy of the enraged Zabrak as you helplessly watch.

Within seconds his skin is turning blue, color creeping in and spreading like a virus from his lips and eyes, which themselves have become webbed with red, bloodshot and panicked as they dart around the room before landing on your own frozen form.

‘He’s going to kill him.’ You realize with a chill. You knew he was violent, murderous, but he had never killed in front of you before. The sight of which had shocked you, but which was gradually wearing off. If you didn’t do something quick, he was going to die, and while he had assaulted you just moments ago you still felt no desire to see his life slip away before your very eyes.

So, with all the strength you could muster, you launched yourself at Savage’s back, throwing your arms over his shoulders and around his neck in a choke hold. He shook, trying to rid himself of your weight much like a dog would a flea, and while he almost succeeded dug in deeper, legs barely managing to reach around his wide waist, and locked your ankles together.

While one arm remained locked around his neck, the other reached out in an attempt to pull his extended hand down. Maybe if you managed to drag it away from its current position pointed at the Mandalorian, it would break some sort of connection.

It's almost laughable how little you can do against his vastly superior strength, and any hope that you can actually do anything is a pipe dream, leaving you nothing but words as you plea for him to stop.

“Savage! This is crazy!” He seems to not hear, only grunting in mild annoyance as his only response.

By this point the man has stopped struggling, his once struggling form slowing to a stop as his kicking legs simply dangle alongside his hands. He looks like a corpse already, and if not for the occasional jerk of his chest as he tries to suck in air still.

“If I’m anything to you, if I've ever been anything to you, then stop! Spare him!”

Something in your words seems to shake him, his head tilting lightly to catch your gaze over his shoulder. He pauses, hatred full eyes softening just a fraction, before his arm drops. The man’s body follows suit, falling the four feet to the floor, unconscious yet alive. There’s no time to be relieved however, as now with the advantage of both hands, Savage reaches around and grabs you by the collar, easily pulling you over his shoulder where he then proceeds to drag you along the floor, ignoring the way you kicked and struggled as he made his way through familiar halls. Anyone you saw did nothing, content with ignoring what was going on before their very eyes as you made your way to your destination.

A sense of dread filled your stomach as he roughly tossed you onto the bed of your room. There wasn’t even time to bounce off the soft surface before you were pinned down. Large hands worm their way under your clothes, discarding the layers and sashes with ease.

“S-stop! Stop!” You squirm, finally managing to pull away and spin around to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His face is a mixture of anger and confusion, as if he can’t believe the way you’re reacting.

“What am I doing? I’m protecting you, that’s what I’m doing!” His finger stabs accusingly in your direction, voice tinge with disbelief. “You’re so weak and defenseless! If I hadn't come along then who knows what might have happened.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Did he really think that you were so incompetent, so incapable? New rage burned through your veins, emboldening you as you stood chest to chest with him. Your neck was tilted at an uncomfortably angle as you glared at his towering figure.

“Helpless? I got along just fine before you came and kidnapped me! Now I’m living on a foreign ship with people who killed my entire village and two psychotic Zabrak, one of which has some weird obsession with me and has reduced me to nothing more than a glorified secretary!”

He stiffened, aura growing increasingly menacing with every second. His hands flexed, clenching and unclenching by his sides. All of which was lost on you, too far gone and fed up with being ordered around without a choice. Now that the dam had burst, there was no holding it back.

“I would have handled the situation myself! I’ve dealt with far more handsy and stronger men than him! Furthermore I am not some toy to be fought over by grown men acting like children!” You pushed your finger into his chest to emphasize the point, feeling his chest expand as he takes in a deep breath. It's too late that you realize your mistake, and you doubt any amount of groveling will get you out of this one.

Instead, you back up slowly, wearily watching as you back away from his still form. His markings shine in stark contrast in the dim light of the room as he squares his shoulders, blocking any room for escape as he approaches. You’re forced back with every step, retreating until you find yourself backed into a corner. Fleetingly, your eyes dart around the room, landing on the door that seems light years away. If you could just make it there and out in the halls beyond then..then..

Then nothing. You were trapped. Even if you managed to escape, where would you go? He would find you, stuck on this ship, eventually.

Quicker then you’re able to process, one of his arms whips forward, cutting off any route of escape and causing the metal to vibrate with the impact. The ear closest rings dully, and you don;t even have to look to know that he’s left a dent. Hot breath fans across your skin as you stare wide eyed at the floor, not daring to look up and meet his gaze. Heart racing so fast, its amazing you can still hear over the thudding in your ears as he speaks.

“Has the lull of space dulled your senses, or have you forgotten what I said when I saved you from that pitiful little planet you called home. The one so barren and empty that you had to import all your goods. Where you were forced to do back breaking labor in order to survive, if that's what you want to call it.”

The words are like daggers, sinking deeper the longer he speaks as you're reminded of your previous circumstances. You had survived, yes, but could you really consider it living? Then again, how was it any better than your current situation? Instead of having the freedom to provide for yourself, you were forced to bow under the will of others and hope that they were kind enough to keep you around and alive.

He draws closer, leaving you nowhere to go and feeling entirely too claustrophobic.

“You. Belong. To me. I saved you! I'm your protector! And I can do whatever I want to you.”

His once quiet tone has risen to a yell, seeming to shake the very air and finally breaking your resolve.

A whimper leaves your quivering lips. Hardly louder than a whisper, but in the deathly still room it’s like a blaster shot, prompting the sith to freeze. Slowly, his hand raises. Ignoring the way you flinch away as he grips your jaw, he forces you to look at him directly. The calloused skin of his hands scratches at your own as he wipes away the tears now flowing freely. You hadn’t even realized you were crying, but the discovery breaks a sob from deep within.

He rears back like he’s been stung, leaving you feeling cold in the absence of his scorching skin. Stepping forward once again only results in a choking sound escaping your throat, freezing him in his tracks.

“I-I didn’t…” Words fading, his gaze moves from his own hands to your shaking frame and back again. A silent war goes on within him as the voices in his head fight for dominance. All the while you’re left to watch in fear for his next move.

With one last angry growl, he turns on heel and storms out of the room. The familiar beeping of the lock sounds, sealing your fate and you in the room.

Savage doesn’t return for seemingly hours, though it's unknown how long exactly as there was no way to keep track of time. All you know is that, after getting your tears under control and fixing your clothes back into place, you climbed onto the cot and fell into an exhausted sleep, constantly tossing and turning with your nightmares, yet forgetting them the moment you wake, drenched in sweat and shaking.

When you're woken once more, you nearly hurl yourself off the bed as bleary eyes spot a shadowy figure standing above. A hand clasp your ankle tightly before you can even move, pulling rough and dragging you to the edge where they then proceed to hold you in place with their legs alone. The entire time you struggle, kicking and squirming, which is quickly brought to an end as a startling familiar large hand grasps you by the nape, forcing your face into the blankets as he speaks.

“Hold still.”

It's Savage, you realize with a start. The shock of which stills your motions long enough for him to slip something around your neck. The foreign object was stiff, yet not uncomfortable apart from the fact that it was too tight to ignore.

Once in place, he released his grip, allowing you to escape and stumble your way towards the bathroom. The luminescent light was nearly blinding as it flicked on, revealing your latest accessory in the reflective surface of the mirror.

A collar. He had put a collar on you, like you were some sort of pet.

“What the fuck?” You whisper, hand ghosting over the offending wardrobe addition. The majority itself was made up of a thick black material, almost like steel woven fabric. Tilting it forward for a better look, you could see a thick layer of cushion-like material that you assumed was to keep from rubbing the delicate skin of your neck raw. In the very center was the only addition to the otherwise minimal design.

At first you thought it was a tooth or claw of some sort, the rough cone coming to a sharp point. The edges had clearly been smoothed, though you hated to think of how sharp the end was before receiving the dulling treatment.

Movement from the edge of the mirror disrupts your pondering, drawing attention to the lurking Savage. Not wanting a repeat of your last encounter, you're quick to exit the small room, ducking under his sweeping arm as you go.

“What is this!”

You seethe, keeping careful watch and making sure to keep ample distance as you circle the room. He seems unconcerned by your rage, simply watching with a hint of smugness to his heavy features.

“A gift.”

A gift? Was this some kind of sick joke for him? A punishment for what happened yesterday perhaps?

As if sensing your confusion, Savage indulges you and explains further.

“You’ve made it clear that you wish to retain some form of independence, as laughable as the idea is. That,” he gestures to the item around your neck. “Is one of my own horns. As clear of warning there can be, since you seem so against me killing the fools who think to oversteps boundaries.”

You blink owlishly, hand moving to the organic charm. Taking a closer look, you saw that he was indeed down one of his normal crown protrusions, sawn cleanly from his right side.

“Come. You’ve sulked long enough.” He leaves the room, not even sparing a glance back to see if you were following, which of course you were. While he framed it as being for your own benefit, you knew what it really was.

A claim. A warning. However you wanted to phrase it. It all boiled down to one thing; you were his property, and this was his way of showing it. More merciful, and less humiliating, than other ways he could have done so, you surmised.

So, with great reluctance you followed him, feet shuffling and head down.

____Bonus_____

Few things in Maul’s life had given him the same amusement he felt now. From across the room he watched as you sulked after his brother, clearly unhappy. Your displeasure was easy to detect even for those that weren’t force sensitive.

The ‘necklace’, as it was kindly called, rather than the collar it more closely resembled, was already in place and on full display for all. Clearly you were unaware of the implications of what Savage had given you, otherwise your reaction would be of a highly different kind.

The broken horn fragment gleamed, and he noted that he had dulled it just as advised. Though he would have gone for a different design. Something more elegant, and less flashy. It did the job though, screaming his claim and ensuring only an idiot would dare to question his claim, lest they attempt to challenge him for the right to court you. If he didn’t know Savage any better, he might have thought that he was moving extraordinary fast in his advances, but he was one for action first and thinking later, just like when he had those robes made for you.

One thing was for sure, and that was how much he was looking forward to the ensuing chaos. After all, Savage was no ordinary Zabrak, and these were no ordinary circumstances. It was highly unusual for his kind to take mates outside their species after all.

#savage opress x reader #savage opress #savage x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #star wars x reader #yandere #yandere savage #yandere savage opress #yandere x reader #darth maul #tcw #tcw x reader #star wars the clone wars

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

Obedient

Soft Yan! Erasermic x Chubby Fem! Reader

Summary: Reader gets a new home and is perfectly fine with it, but soon her desires get the best of her.

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Kidnapping, drug use, NSFW, smut, double penetration, yandere themes, light D/S dynamic, daddy kink like once, BDSM themes, Stockholm Syndrome, overall nastiness

Word Count: 5.1k

Author’s Note: This one’s extremely self indulgent, focusing on a chubby or heavy reader and their insecurities being accepted. Also, I feel like these two would be unfairly amazing with aftercare. If you skip the warnings it ain’t my fault if you don’t like what you read. Thanks and enjoy!

“Happy birthday to me” you mumbled to yourself as you polished off your third glass of whiskey of the night.

It was late, probably close to 2 am, and you sat at your usual spot on the end of the bar. You rapped your knuckles on the wooden countertop, signaling the bartender to pour you another glass. He obliged with a nod and a warm smile, which you easily returned. It was always like this, sitting alone at the edge of the bar on a Friday night, drinking away your stress where you knew you wouldn’t be bothered by your meddlesome coworkers.

The bar was getting quiet, with only a handful of patrons chatting and laughing away in their drunken states. And they were there again. Always sitting in the corner of the establishment, tucked away in a booth together. The two men were there when you started attending the bar on a regular basis a few months ago, and always stayed after you’d left. It seemed normal at first, just a couple of guys drinking at a bar. But you’d caught them looking at you on several occasions. You never looked at them directly, but you always saw their reflections in the glass bottles of liquor, their eyes trained on you with no clear expressions on their faces. They never came over to talk, never made a move, never even got within 5 feet of you. And that’s the way you liked it.

Until tonight.

Both men stood up, and you watched as their reflections casually made their way over to the bar. You averted your eyes and pretended not to notice, hoping they’d leave you alone. “Hey there” Well, so much for leaving me alone. You turned to see a handsomely rugged man looking down at you, his raven hair loose and framing his chiseled jaw and his dark eyes peering into your own. You notice a curved scar just under his right eye. His friend stood beside him, with long blonde hair tied up in a laxed ponytail and hypnotic green eyes trained on you behind orange tinted sunglasses.

“Hi fellas” you spoke, eyeing the two with a quirked eyebrow. The blonde moved over to your left and sat down next to you, the other choosing to stand on your right. “Hey little listener! Mind if I sit here?” the blonde asked with a megawatt grin, the sheer volume of his voice startled you a little. “Not at all” you said with a warm smile. ‘Listener? What a strange nickname’ you thought. There was a few seconds of silence before the dark haired man spoke. “So, what’s the occasion?” You wondered how he knew there was an occasion, and almost reading your mind he said, “You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar” Huh. Looks like they were watching me after all.

You took a swig of whiskey before speaking. “Nothing special. It’s just my birthday”. And you meant it. Your birthday was never anything special. Just a testament to another routine year on this earth. “I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” the blonde nudged your shoulder as he spoke. You laughed at that statement. “Nah, just another year gone by” The alcohol was starting to get to you, you could tell. You were never this talkative sober.

The black haired man knocked on the bar, “Next round’s on me. Hey barkeep, one more glass for this pretty kitten here” The pet name made your cheeks tingle a little, but you kept it under control and tilted your head. You scoffed “Kitten? Really?” He looked you up and down and said “Well how would you describe yourself, kitty?” He smirked at you, waiting for your response. The logical side of your brain warned you ‘Don’t do it, you can’t be self deprecating on your 25th birthday’. You didn’t listen. “Well I’m far from cat-like. Chubby, short, chunky. The only thing cat-like about me would have to be my trained posture and eyeliner” You chuckled, matter-of-factly. You worked as a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant and you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised.

“Hmm, pretty and humble” the blonde muttered. You laughed again “Pretty. Right”. Neither of them said anything. You looked at the two men, closely. Where did you recognize them? Why did they look so familiar? There was silence as you studied their faces. Then it struck you. Your eyes went wide and you took a sharp inhale “You’re Eraserhead” you looked over at him, and then turned to the blonde “And you’re Present Mic”. Both men grinned at the recognition, “In the flesh sunshine”. You turned and stared at your drink, feeling your face get warm. You were extremely socially awkward and hated confrontation, even if it were friendly, so you did the only thing that could save you and excused yourself to the ladies’ room.

Once the door closed behind you you let out a shaky breath and leaned over the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. What the hell were they doing talking to you? Or even looking at you? You backed up, deciding to fix yourself. You pulled your skirt down a little further over your thighs, tugged your thigh-high socks a little higher, and redid your ponytail.Taking a deep breath, you walked back out to the two heroes and sat down, a new glass of whiskey on the bartop in front of you. With slightly shaky hands you grabbed the glass and took a big swig, then glanced between the two men and said “It’s very nice to meet you” Eraserhead chuckled and Mic said “Likewise sweetheart. The name’s Hizashi” “And you can call me Shouta”.

The night went on and the three of you talked for another hour or so. Eventually you glanced at your watch and decided it’s time to go home. “Let us take you home (y/n)” Shouta offered. You declined politely, you couldn’t intrude on them any more than you already had. But they insisted, so you obliged, deciding that walking home in these 4-inch platform boot heels would kill you. Shouta hadn’t had a drink all night so he hopped in the driver’s seat, Hizashi in the passenger and you in the back. You punched your address into the GPS and the car started moving.

“Water?” Hizashi offered, holding a bottle of water over the back of his seat. You took it and thanked him, immediately chugging the whole bottle in one breath. You didn’t notice Shouta watching you, and you didn’t notice the bottle had already been opened and laced with something. Soon your head became heavy, along with your eyelids as you tried to blink away sleep. “You seem tired (y/n), why don’t you take a nap. We’ll wake you up when we get there” You nodded and sprawled across the backseat, settling into a deep sleep, unaware that you were never going to see your bed again.

You woke up sore and stiff, and you stretched out, feeling the soft silky sheets under your body. It took you a moment to realise these weren’t your sheets, and you snapped your eyes open and sat up to an unfamiliar room. “Shit” you cursed under your breath. You strained your memory to see if you’d gone home with anyone the night before, but the last thing you remember was being driven home by two pro heroes and passing out in the backseat of their car. Your head began to swim with possibilities and questions. Where am I? Why am I here? Where were the two heroes? You tried to cross your legs but your left ankle was stopped short. You threw the blanket off and saw a metal cuff and a thick chain holding you in place.

You felt yourself start to panic, but leveled your head and steadied your breathing before you lost control. You willed yourself to relax, and think of ways to get out of this predicament. Today is Saturday. Whoever took me would be here, assuming this room is part of a larger house. You stilled your nerves and gently called out. “H-hello? Is there anyone there?” A few seconds later you hear footsteps, and the door opened. The last thing you expected to see was a handsomely rugged pro hero Shouta Aizawa standing in the doorway. “Morning kitty” he said with a smirk.

You froze in place and blinked at the man. You lost yourself in your head, remembering all the yandere fanfic you read, remembering last night and piecing things together. The bottle of water was already open. To be fair, they are heroes. Letting your guard down was only natural. A hand on your shoulder jolted you back to reality. You stared at Shouta like a deer in headlights. “You okay there?” You blinked back at him, and swallowed down the lump in your throat before saying “Let me guess. This is my new home”. He stared back down at you before chuckling, “Well that’s not the reaction I was expecting. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you?”

He left the room and you got lost in thought again. You knew you shouldn’t be so calm, so willing, so obedient. But you also knew how boring your life had been, how mundane and lonely. You had cut ties with your family a long time ago, and you didn’t have any friends because of your trust issues and antisociality. You knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. To give up control.

And it shone through the more you explored in your late teen years. You found how much you loved the idea of having a dominant person to tell you you were doing good, someone you could trust to guide you. Someone to take over and lead you. The few relationships you had fell through once your partner learned about your preferences. They weren’t willing to put a collar on you, like you were some sort of animal. They never understood the trust and respect that came with the garment.

Maybe this was your chance to have the relationship you’d always yearned for. To be loved for exactly who you are. And you knew it was wrong to want to like your captors, the people who kidnapped you. But in reality what were you going to do? Try to escape and risk injuring yourself? Or worse, risk getting caught and be punished for it? There were no realistic scenarios where you got out of here and escape from them completely. If they were the yandere types you thought them to be, you knew it was pointless to struggle.

Shouta came back and broke you out of your thoughts with a tray of pancakes, fruit, and a glass of orange juice. You shifted so you were sitting against the headboard and he placed the tray on your lap. You mumbled a small ‘thank you’ and began to eat, only now realizing how hungry you were. About halfway through the meal he spoke. “You know, you’re taking this really well.” You finished the food in your mouth and looked at him “Well there’s no use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out” you said, motioning to the chain and cuff around your ankle. “You’re not wrong,” he said back, and left you to finish breakfast.

He came back ten minutes later, took the tray, and returned with a key, handcuffs, and a blindfold. “I’m sure you need to use the bathroom” you nodded, acknowledging the pressure on your bladder “These are just a precaution” he said as he locked the cuffs around your wrists and tied the blindfold around your head. You felt the cuff on your ankle fall off and Shouta’s arms under your knees and back as he lifted you off the bed and carried you to where you assumed the bathroom was. Once inside, he put you down and took the blindfold and cuffs off. He stepped outside and locked the door and said “I’ll be waiting out here. Once you’re done knock on the door and I’ll take you back to the bed”. You nodded, and did just that. Back on the bed, he locked the cuff around your ankle and stood to leave before you stopped him.

“H-hey, S-shouta?” he turned around and quirked an eyebrow, “Can I…draw?” You had no idea if he’d let you have anything, but you had to try. If you were going to be stuck in here you needed a way to keep yourself occupied. He hummed and left the room, returning with a sketch pad, a pencil, and an eraser. Once he left you began sketching away, deciding koi fish were to be the subjects of your creativity.

Days went by, being served three meals a day by either Shouta or Hizashi. Eventually, they began to question why you were so obedient and calm about the whole situation. They began to think you were just trying to get them to let their guard down, and give you a chance to escape. You always answered their questions truthfully. “I don’t mind it here. My life had always been uneventful so the change is mildly appreciated. And you treat me well, so I can say I’m at least a little happy”. They weren’t anything like you expected. They weren’t overly protective or controlling, never posed any kind of threat. Never tried to convince you of anything, not that they had to.

After about a week, they took the cuff off your ankle and stored it away. “You can roam the house freely” Shouta said, holding his hand out to you. Gingerly you took his hand, slowly standing from the bed. Your legs shook a little, but Shouta held you so you could stretch them out and get comfortable walking again. He walked out, motioning for you to follow. You ended up in the dining room, sitting at the table. With Shouta sitting next to you, you assumed Hizashi was in the kitchen cooking dinner.

“So (y/n), what have you been drawing?”. The question caught you off guard, but you answered “Koi fish”. “Ah, any particular reason why?”. You thought to yourself for a moment, and answered “Well they’re gorgeous creatures, elegant, sleek, graceful. I’ve always loved drawing koi”. He hummed, seemingly pleased with your answer. You then started to ramble a bit about how koi reminded you of dragons for some reason, and how beautiful you thought dragons were.

Soon dinner was served and Hizashi was caught up in the conversation. After dinner you all went to watch movies in the living room, and you dozed off between the two men, relishing in the warmth their bodies radiated. Shouta carried you to the bed and laid you down to sleep, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. He stood there, admiring you for a few minutes before leaving to join Hizashi in their room.

———————-

After a couple months living with the two men, thoughts began to swirl around in your brain. Caring thoughts. And needy, dirty thoughts. You’d push them away as quickly as they came because you knew what was happening. You read about Stockholm syndrome many times, and you tried desperately to remind yourself that liking them was wrong. But you were in far too deep. Eventually the part of you that tried to fight it lost miserably and you stopped pushing those thoughts away, because despite the kidnapping, they were nothing but good to you.

The days they’d both have to leave for their hero duties were the days you’d begin to realize you missed them. You dug through their closet and began to wear one or the other’s t-shirts around the house. Eventually it became normal. You’d always wear their clothes, whether they were home or not, and they didn’t seem to mind. You got closer to them, getting more cuddly and affectionate, giving and receiving more kisses. Soon you were all sleeping together, and life began to feel strangely normal. But the realization of how sexually frustrated you were drove you mad.

You wanted to feel their hands on you, touching you, caressing you, making you feel good. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed them. But you had some pride, so you just left hints. You dressed lighter, showing more skin. Not wearing any shorts with their t-shirts, letting the collars drop and expose your shoulders. You could see them looking. Their glances made you ache, you wanted them so bad. But they weren’t budging. So you gave in and tossed your pride aside.

One day after they came home from patrol and dinner was finished, you quickly washed the dishes and tugged them over to the living room couch and sat down on the coffee table, facing them. Their confused expressions only grew more confused when your face burned red. What you were about to ask them embarrassed you to no end, but you had to do it or you’d go insane.

You took a deep breath, looked up at them, and began quietly. “S-so, um, I really like it here, and…and I appreciate everything you two have done for me…” you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, “a-and I know you’ve given me everything I asked-” you were abruptly cut off by Shouta saying “No, (y/n), you can’t go outside”. The statement threw you off, and you quickly rambled “N-no, no! That’s not…I wasn’t asking to leave! I love it here and I love just being with you two and doing whatever…but it’s not what we do…it’s what we…don’t do…that’s bothering me…just a little bit…”

Shouta’s stern expression turned soft, then after a few moments a knowing smirk tugged at his lips. Hizashi still looked as confused as before the conversation and said “Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. There’s a lot of things we don’t do”. Shouta spoke up “‘Zashi, hold on”. Hizashi quieted and shrugged. Shouta looked at you with narrow eyes and a knowing smirk. “Come here kitty” he said and pat his leg. The name sent shivers down your spine. You bit your lip, got up and straddled his lap. He tucked his finger under your chin and pulled so you were looking him in the eyes “I think our kitty cat’s getting a little needy, ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right kitty?”. Your face burned fiercely, and you bit your lip harder and gave a small nod.

Shouta dropped his hand and grabbed your waist, lifting you off his lap and onto Hizashi as he stood up to get something. You closed your eyes and let out a small squeak from the sudden movement. You opened your eyes to Hizashi’s wide grin. He wrapped his arms around your waist, leaned forward and slotted his lips against yours, giving you a soft affectionate kiss. You melted into his arms, letting a haze drift into your mind. Shouta came back holding something, but you couldn’t quite see it in his hand. You looked back up at his face, and he looked at Hizashi. The two shared a look and you couldn’t quite place their expressions.

Shouta sat down, and began gently rubbing your arm. He seemed to be trying to figure out how to say something, but he decided actions were better than words. He took a small breath and held up what he’d been holding. And it made your breath hitch in your throat. You realized in that moment that they had been watching you a lot more than just at the bar. They knew about your relationship issues, your preferences, they knew everything.

It was a collar. And it was beautiful. One half was black leather, studded with yellow gems, the other half yellow with black gems, and the center had a silver loop with a little bell. You reached out and touched it, letting your fingers trace over the gems. You look up at Shouta and the question leaves your lips before you can think. “Is it for me?” he nods, and it made tears prick the corners of your eyes. He knew what you wanted. They both did. He gives a sweet smile and moves behind you, looping it around your neck. You hold your hair up, and wait for the sound.

Click

It locks, and you shudder, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Shouta tilts your head and kisses you, soft and deep. He loops a finger through the collar and gently tugs, and you let out a mewl, letting him dip his tongue past your lips. A haze drifts over your mind in a thick blanket, and you melt into the kiss. He pulls away, and you look up at him with lust-blown eyes, then look at Hizashi who leans over and kisses your cheek.

Hizashi picks you up and places you on the floor and the two stand up, Shouta loops a finger in your collar and tugs, and the two lead you over to the bedroom. Hizashi begins to undress first, and Shouta pulls you into another heated kiss. This time a little more rough, a little more passionate, his tongue gliding over yours. He bites your bottom lip and you let out a soft moan. Hizashi, now completely naked, sits on the edge of the bed and calls out to you “Come over here baby”. You pull away from Shouta and walk over to the blonde. He motions for you to turn around, and he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap.

He pulls off the shirt you’re wearing, groaning after seeing you had no bra on. He pulls you by your arms, pressing your back against his chest, and peppers kisses along your neck and shoulders. You mewl softly, shuddering from the sensation. You didn’t know kisses could feel so good. Shouta comes over and starts to massage your breasts, kneading them with his palms and grazing over the sensitive buds. Hizashi brings his hands to your stomach and gently caresses and grabs at the soft flesh, squishing and kneading the fat gathered there.

You whine from the contact, and feeling extremely self-conscious you grab his arms and try to pull him away. He shushes you and whispers in your ear “It’s okay, baby, let me feel you. You’re so beautiful”. He nips at your ear and kisses your neck. You let your arms relax and drop to your sides, letting the blonde explore your body the way he wants. Shouta kneels in front of you and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling. He grabs your thighs and pulls your legs apart, squeezing the fat there.

As the two squeeze and grope every part of you that you never liked, you can’t help but feel exposed and slightly uncomfortable. You whimper softly, tears beginning to sting your eyes as you take shaky breaths to still yourself. Hizashi turns your head and kisses away the tears as they fall, and Shouta leans up and kisses your belly and thighs. “Shhh kitty, let us love you. Let us love all of you, kitty cat. You’re so pretty…such a pretty little kitty~”.

You relax further, and you realize these two beautiful men are worshipping your body like you’re a goddess. You’re far from being comfortable in your skin, but the initial fear is gone, and your body relaxes as they continue their ministrations. “Good girl kitty. Good girl” Shouta whispers as he kisses and nips at your thighs. “Open your legs for us baby” Hizashi dips his fingers down and teases your dripping core, slipping up and down your folds as Shouta pulls your panties down and off your legs. You buck your hips up, begging for more friction. He dips two fingers into your core and a soft moan escapes your lips.

He reaches his thumb up to rub tight circles over your clit, and you mewl at the sensation, rocking your hips into his hand. Shouta continues focusing on your breasts and belly, kneading and kissing and licking. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, curling his fingers to hit your g-spot and rubbing your clit faster. The knot snaps and you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking, you throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high.

After your release you relax back down, breathing hard. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy. “You ready kitty?” He asks, and you look up at him through your lashes and nod. He tugs at your collar “Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?”. Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without thinking “Yes Daddy”. Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath. He thrusts his hips forward and bottoms out in one movement. You gasp, the stretch around his thick length was almost enough to make you cum a second time.

Shouta stills to let you adjust and leans down to kiss the bruises on your neck from Hizashi. “I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of your core. Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock deep into your pussy, walls clenching around him. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth. Your tongue slides over his fingers, coating them in your saliva.

He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling out and Hizashi removing his hand from your mound and you whine at the emptiness, your pussy clenching around nothing. Shouta moves to sit and pulls you onto his lap, pressing your chests together, and Hizashi sits up behind you, pressing against your back. “On your knees baby girl, hold yourself up” Hizashi says into your neck.

You oblige, holding yourself up as the two men line themselves up with your dripping core. Once they’re ready, They grab your hips and pull you onto them, both of their hard cocks slipping into your pussy. You throw your head back against Hizashi’s shoulder, nearly screaming from the stretch. Your nails dig into Shouta’s back as they bottom out. They still their movements, all three of you panting hard. Despite the lack of movement, you mewl and whimper, your walls clenching and stretching to accommodate the both of them.

You relax slightly, feeling fuller than you’ve ever been before, and they immediately start to move. They pull out until just the tips are still in, and slam you down onto them, setting a brutal pace. You scream from the pleasure, clawing at the muscles in Shouta’s back. Hizashi reaches around to rub your clit and it shoves you over the edge and has you cumming around them, your essence dripping down your thighs and their cocks. They keep slamming back into you, your pussy clenching around them. They slow their pace ever so slightly, feeling their own release building. Hizashi keeps rubbing tight circles around your clit “Do you have one more for us baby? Cum one more time”.

You whine from the overstimulation, feeling every vein as they pump themselves in and out of your core. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach. Shouta leans down and bites down hard on the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder, just under the collar, and it pulls you over, crying out as your pussy clamps down hard. Their hips stutter, and they pick up the pace, chasing their own release as you ride out your high. They thrust two more times and they’re both shooting hot ropes of cum into you, filling you to the brim.

They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments, they pull out together, the movement making you moan and shake. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders.

Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom. Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he takes off your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back down to earth.

“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, squeezing it appreciatively. They both muttered soft ‘good girl’s and ‘good kitty’s in you ears. You felt secure with them, the hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off. He takes you from Shouta and dries you off with a towel and loops your collar back around your neck. “Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us”. Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.

You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, and as you fall asleep you mumble a soft “I love you both” into Hizashi’s chest, and Shouta whispers into your ear “We love you too kitty cat.”

#yandere bnha #erasermic x reader #yandere erasermic #stockholm syndrome #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #hizashi x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere yamada hizashi #erasermic

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amythedvdhoarder · 4 years

Text

Stockholm Syndrome - One

Pairings: Dark Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: You would make the perfect wife for Bucky and Steve. A perfect mother to their children. They have dreamt of this, of you, for so long now. You just have no idea that they exist or how badly they want you for themselves.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Stalking, NonCon, Swearing, Smut, NSFW. 18+ only

A/N: Venturing out from just writing fluffy smutty Bucky and into some dark Stucky instead. First attempt at a dark fic so fingers crossed it’s ok. This is an intro chapter to set the scene. Feedback always welcome, interested to hear what people think to this x

Also I made a pretty thing to go with the story!

Masterlist

Part 2

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The music thumped through the club; the noise filling your ears and the vibrations guiding your movements. The alcohol had given you a pleasant buzz that vanquished the nerves you’d had prior to the evening. Going on date with someone from work was always risky. The saying ‘don’t shit where you eat’ had sprung to mind when Joel had asked you out. But you had agreed anyway, he was hot, young and could be the welcome distraction you needed right now. 6 months on from your last relationship you were ready to let your hair down. It didn’t have to turn into anything, if it only ended up being a quick fuck then that was absolutely fine with you. The date had started at a nice bar and a few drinks later you ended up here. Dancing with your bodies pressed against each other, sweat glistening on your foreheads, his hands on your waist, one of your hands reaching back holding onto his neck. All it did was build your anticipation for what you had decided could happen tonight. Yes, it was a first date but it was probably your last date too. So, when Joel suggested getting out of there, you willingly agreed.

After getting your coat from the cloakroom you headed outside into the cool New York air. You leaned against the wall casually as you waited for Joel, who had headed to the toilets. Pulling out your phone you glanced at the time, which at just after midnight, was still fairly early. You sent a quick reply to your best friend Serena who had messaged to ask how the date before taking a look up and down the street. The road was quiet, a couple of taxi’s loitering around hoping to pick up a drunk or two. You smirked as you spied a couple just down the street from you who looked in desperate need of a room. It made you think of Joel who really should have been there by now. He had been over 10 minutes now which seemed odd. Normally the men’s room was quieter, in fact in the past you had used the men’s room a couple of times because the que was always shorter. But you let it slide, you waited for another 10 before calling him, the call going straight to voicemail. Brilliant you thought, the prick must have gone out the back or met someone else to use to get his dick wet tonight. Sod him. You debated going back into the club to find someone else to hook up with but as the cold air started to sober you up, you thought better of it. Tugging the collar of your trench coat up, you turned you back to the club and began the 5-block journey back to your apartment.

By the time you had walked two blocks in your heels you regretted not getting a taxi. However, it wasn’t just the pinch at your ankles that was making you uncomfortable. You had the distinct feeling that you were being followed. It wasn’t for the first time either. For the last few weeks every time you went somewhere you felt as if someone was watching you, not that you had ever spotted anyone to confirm the suspicion, but it was a feeling that you could not shake. More than likely you were just being stupid but you still stopped briefly to have a quick look around. Nobody seemed to be paying you the blindest bit of notice, in fact there were only a couple of people in sight in the halogen lit street. Despite this you still walked home in record pace, ignoring the stinging in your feet.

You were out of breath by the time you closed the door to your apartment, kicking off your shoes and shrugging off your coat. Heading over to the window, you opened the mesh curtains a fraction so you could peer into the dark street below. There was only one person walking along the pavement, unsurprising for that time of night. But what was surprising was, that as they walked underneath one of the street lamps, you could see that their face was obscured by a cap. Even from this distance and dim light you could tell it was a man, well over six foot, broad and muscly. You shook your head at your deductions and let the curtain fall, shimmying your dress down and letting it fall to the floor as you walked towards the bathroom.

After removing your make-up and brushing your teeth you pulled on a t-shirt left behind by an ex-boyfriend and climbed into bed. Despite how tired you were your mind was still on the events of the evening. Joel abandoning you mid-date. That familiar feeling of being constantly watched as you walked home and then the mysterious man, walking around at such an odd hour. You tried to imagine what his face could look like beneath the cap; sharp cheek bones, a strong jaw masked by a light beard and piercing eyes. How your mind and conjured up that image you weren’t sure, but it wasn’t the man behind the cap though that interested you. It was the question of why would anyone be wearing a cap at night? It definitely wasn’t to keep the sun out of their eyes. Maybe they were self-conscious; had a scar or an injury to cover up. You tried to exhaust all the innocent reasons but none of the seemed feasible. Leaving only one option. They didn’t want to be identified. Not that it was your problem, it was absolutely nothing to do with you what they had done or what they were planning on doing. Satisfied that you had a conclusion, you closed your eyes and waited for sleep to come, looking forward to putting the weird day behind you.

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Steve stopped at the end of the street, his eyes trained on the fifth window across on the third floor. He waited for the lights to go off before pulling out his phone. “It’s me. Yeah, we got a problem… She spotted me…No I had my hat on, I’m not that stupid. We can’t wait much longer though, she’s getting suspicious…Yeah see you later.” Steve put his phone back in his pocket, sighed and walked around the corner. He got into the back of the van and immediately turned his attention to the row of screens in front of him. The live black and white feed showing a woman in bed, tossing and turning as she got comfortable for the night. Steve pulled off his cap and smiled to himself, a bolt of excitement passed through him as their girl turned to face the camera. It wouldn’t be long now. Just a few more days and she would be theirs.

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in or out

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 , @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht, @buckys-henley, @lonelyheartsm @alexa-lightwood-blog, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork, @fandomfic-galore, @holypicklelightnickel

#dark steve x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark stucky #stucky x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #steve imagine #bucky imagine #stucky imagine #marvel #marvel fanfics #avengers #dark #captain america #winter soldier

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justoneday-namjoonii · 4 years

Text

Don’t Breathe | 3.0

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DON’T love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was told to get rid of everyone who witnessed the conversation between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month ago, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3.0 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt.4.5

A/n: it’s literally been a long a** while, but it’s here💙 ps will edit later probably

“Okay, ma’am, can you explain to me how you found out she was missing one more time? I just want to verify that the report is consistent with what you told us previously.”

“Sure,” Suzy squirmed in her seat, feeling squeamish due to the busy police station. “I went to her apartment to check on her because her upcoming article was missing and she never forgets to log in her articles. She wasn’t answering my calls or texts, I got worried. When I knocked on her door, I didn’t get an answer, but that’s when I saw that the door was unlocked. I walked inside and everything looked normal but she wasn’t there, and her necklace was on the floor,”

Her mouth goes dry the more she recalls the emptiness of your home, the sheer horror she felt when she saw your most prized possession on the ground.

“She never goes anywhere without that necklace.”

“Alright ma’am, have you seen or heard from her on any social media in the last 24 hours?”

“No, I haven’t…”

She smiled. “Okay. Our officers will do everything they can to find her, alright? So don’t worry too much, she might’ve left her phone off or something, things like that happen all the time.” The woman laughed a bit, nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t talking about a human being who could be scared for her life.

“Alright, thank you…”

She left the station, heart heavy. And she couldn’t figure out why, but something about the woman’s words made her feel worse.

You woke up really early, around 4 or 5 in the morning, and you were trying so hard to quietly try to open the window but it was bolted shut. You tried the door, but even that was locked from the outside. After an hour or so, you gave up and went to sleep.

But you’re up now, and you’re trying to escape, again.

You screamed at the top of your lungs but you know you weren’t heard by a soul. He had cuffed you again while you were asleep and it was extra tight, you felt like your wrists were being crushed. You were furious. You were mad at that monster, the restraints, and the stupid bed he left you on. You started to think, how will I be able to escape? What did I do wrong? Is this really the life I have to live now?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a wobbling doorknob and you freeze, watching it open slowly. It’s him of course.

“Why are you screaming?” He looks annoyed and you curl into the corner, brows furrowed.

“Why do you think?” You spat, yanking against the cuff instinctively as you have the strongest urge to scratch him.

“Listen,” He approaches the bed and you lean into the corner as he takes a seat on the edge, “I’m being very generous. I’ve given you food, left you in very humane living conditions...Do you want to go down to the basement like an animal? Is that what you want?”

“I want you to let me go.”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen,” He stands to his feet and stares down at you, making you feel ten times smaller than you already did.

“We need to talk about some things. I have someone coming over, someone who wanted you dead and thinks you’re dead. So, if you want to stay alive, you need to listen. I’m going to put you in my room and you’re gonna stay there until he leaves.”

“Who- Who wants me dead?...” You stutter.

“My boss, he gave me the job. If he finds out I took a hostage in instead of selling you to him or killing you, he won’t be happy.” He takes in a breath and looks you over, your wrists are all bruised up. “Are you going to cooperate and walk to the room or do I have to drag you?”

“Take these ropes off my hands and you’ll find out.”

He shrugs. “Ok.”

You’re taken aback when he kneels on the bed and waits for you to turn your back towards him. Cautiously, you turn your back to him and he starts to loosen your binds. When you feel that your hands are free, you turn to sit on your butt and rub your wrists.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it...” It’s only now that you realize that he’s staring at you, and you make the mistake of meeting his gaze. His eyes are surprisingly soft and you hadn’t noticed it before, they’re captivating and you force yourself to look away.

“Come on, he’ll be here soon.” With that, he walks out of the room, assuming that you’ll follow him, you don’t.

He looks at you, waiting for you to realize that you’re being unnecessarily difficult. When you see the slight move towards you, you decide to get up and follow him. He takes you down the hall and after a few turns, he walks into a large bedroom, one that’s well kept and fresh-smelling. Once you’re both inside, he closes the door.

“If you get hungry, there’s a mini-fridge in the closet,” He points to the closet, “If he finds out you’re here, we’ll both be in trouble.” With that, he closes the door—funny how he doesn’t lock its door, assuming you won’t try to leave.

This isn’t the best idea, having the person who thinks you’re dead in the house with you. But there was no way he could say no to Minho, that’s his boss and it would look odd if he canceled. While waiting for his guest, he orders some food. He placed the order at his regular take out place and went to the kitchen to wait.

What am I doing? This is the most reckless decision he’s ever made. In an attempt to reason with himself, he blamed his change of heart on the fact that he met you—he should have never run into you. The rules are simple, don’t make contact with the target, don’t get attached, don’t watch them for too long or you will get attached. He did all of that, and now he’s finding out why those rules were made in the first place.

He hears a knock on the door and pushes those thoughts away.

When he lets his boss inside, any thoughts he had of you vanished and he became the person his boss knows him as. Emotionless, calm.

“I wanted to talk to you about your last job,” Minho takes a seat in his living room, in his usual seat in near the window—he always said the view was priceless and to let him know if he were ever willing to sell, “I heard from an informant at the police station that she was reported as missing, do you know anything about that,” He takes a sip of the tea Tae always gives him.

“No, I don’t,” He deadpans, taking a seat and turning the music down with a low command to the speaker, “the girl is gone.”

“They found a necklace at the scene, the woman who went to check on her, I think it was her boss or something, said she doesn’t go anywhere without it,” Minho relaxes, exhaling in thought, “it’s getting a little messy.”

“That comes with the job sometimes,” the doorbell rings and Tae is thankful for the speedy delivery, the growing tense air was beginning to suffocate him. After putting the portion he bought for you in the fridge, he brings the food to the living room.

“But she’s not a high-profile target, she’s a writer,” Yet, people are worried about your disappearance.

After a few minutes of sitting on his massive bed, you choose to disregard his instructions and crack the door to try to listen to what they were saying. Gosh, the food smelled good.

“What did you do with her?”

“You know I don’t like to tell, but she’s taken care of,” Taehyung opened up his food, “this will blow over eventually.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Not much I can do about that,”

Minho laughs, wondering why some useless girl would be the issue they have to face with a case as sensitive as this one. “You should have sold her to me, I’d make good use of her. And teach her a lesson on minding her own business, if it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have had to go back to the job. She was your first female and your youngest target yet, I went through your headcount file.”

“Yeah, she was around my age,”

“She was cute too, would’ve done well at House Lucia’s,” That dreaded place, “but I know you don’t like that place but it’s better than the other options.” Minho pulls a letter out of his suit and sits it on the coffee table.

“That’s your next job, Park’s gonna join you.”

Taehyung cringed, anyone but Park.

“Why Park?” He opens up the envelope and examines the case.

“He’s skilled with squeezing information out of people. Besides, it’s not an eliminate the target case. Go to the Gala, Park will handle the mistresses and you find the guy. Do you accept it? It’s a 75k payout.”

“Yeah, when is it?”

“Tonight,” Minho gets up, “he’ll be here tonight. Attire is formal and he’ll have your invitations. I enjoyed lunch, as always,” Tae walks him to the door and his boss goes to the backseat of the car that came for him.

“Same here,” He bids him goodbye and closes the door he breathing a sigh of relief.

“You can come out, I know you’re listening.”

Shoot.

You creep out of the hallway and stand at the banister, looking down at him.

“I bought you some food, you can eat it in my room,” He walks to the kitchen to get it out of the fridge and when he walks upstairs, you’re already back in his room.

You eye him as he enters the room, glancing at you when he sits the food on the end of the bed. He kneels down and suddenly he’s cuffing your ankles together, you frown, not responding fast enough to move

“Why are you-”

“I’m gonna let you stay in here while I work on some things, I don’t want you to run.” He stands to his feet and you sit on his bed, you wondered, how could he have known that you planned to run from him.

“I’m bringing you back to the basement tonight, so enjoy this while it lasts.”

It’s a Styrofoam plate, harmless enough. You hesitantly lift the lid to see white rice and other little sides, it looks good but you don’t want to eat it, not while he’s in here.

“How could I enjoy this? You have me chained up, how could anyone enjoy this...” You mumble.

“Eat.”

That’s all he says before sitting at his desk and turning on his desk top, ignoring you.

Eventually, you decided that you weren’t going to miss out on getting food. If you’re going back to the basement, there’s no telling if he’ll forget you again.

So you eat, but you do it spitefully.

He scrolls through the hundreds of file his target database with the letter G until he finds the mans name. Gorka, Ulysses. The man is a big-time statesmen, he has his hands in a lot of underground stuff and it seems like the ex-wife did too, she’s the one who paid for job. He scoffs, the man probably has no idea she’s hiring people to end his entire empire—this is one of the interesting parts of his job, the research.

“Um,” You clear your throat and he looks back at you from writing something in his notebook, “I have to use the restroom...”

“Go ahead,” Pointing to his bathroom, he turns back and continues his writing.

You take small steps towards the his bathroom and you close the door behind you, locking it.

Even though he’s fine with the job, he’s never liked working with partners, disturbs his process a little bit. But he’s fine with being flexible, looks good on his resume.

When you finish washing your hands, you slowly open the bathroom door to see him looking through a drawer under his bed. It’s hard to see what he picked up, but you look a little harder and realize that it’s some of your clothes. You shudder, thinking of how he acquired your belongings when he took you from your house.

He looks back at you when you walk further into the room, your awkward search for somewhere to sit catching his attention.

“You’re in a better situation than you would have been,” He turns to you, hair dangling over his piercing eyes, “you’re lucky...”

You frown, unsure of where he’s going with that. How could you be lucky? Right before your big article, you get kidnapped and forced to live with your kidnapper. “Are you serious?...” You couldn’t believe what he just said. “How am I lucky?”

No response.

“Hey, did you hear me?” You raise your voice, standing to your feet. “This isn’t luck!”

Calmly, he eyes you.

“I want to go to the basement, put me in there.” Your request catches him off guard but he shrugs, turning back around as if you didn’t even say anything. “Fine, I’ll go myself...”

You try to walk to the door anyway, your shuffling not letting you leave as quick as you wanted to. Before you can even make it halfway, he’s closing the door with a slam and locking it.

“Get on the bed.” His eyes lock on yours like a predator to prey—you have goosebumps.

“But I just want to go back to the basement, I won’t run.” You’re frozen where you stand, trying to determine his temperament. “Just leave me down there-”

“What did I just say?” His tone firms as he slowly approaches you.

“But- But you’re gonna put me down there anyway- Ah!” You gasp when you’re shoved back first onto the bed, holding you down by your arms as he kneels one knee between your legs. Eyes wide and heart-pounding, you whine, words not leaving your mouth.

“Do you know how lucky you are that you’re here? Had you been assigned to someone else, do you have any idea where you’d be right now,” He leans down, limiting the proximity between your faces but you turn your face to the side, trying to push your face into the comforter below you, “you’re a target, you’re not being treated like a target and you need to realize that. Stop acting out.”

He let’s go of one of your arms in favor of turning your face to him. “Look at me.”

“No, no-” Tears stream down your face and your nose glows red, your sinuses responding to your weeping. You use your now free arm to try to push his chest, he shakes his head at your poor attempt.

He let’s go of your arm so he can snatch both your wrists and holds them to your abdomen with one hand.

“You’re gonna stay in this room until I take you downstairs. If you act like this when I try to grant you some freedom, I’ll give you something to cry about.” Your breathing is shaky and you sniffle, eyes watery and wide. He wipes a tear from your eye with his knuckle and lets you go, walking back to his chair as if he didn’t just threaten your life.

Still in shock, you curl up on the bed and do the only thing you can do—you cry. He’s not phased by your fit at all, he continues to finish his work as your whimpers accompany his soft piano music on his Bluetooth speaker.

This is really happening.

Normally, you’d scold yourself for feeling sorry for yourself. You’d tell yourself that there are people who are suffering far more than you are—that you shouldn’t complain, you’re lucky. But you’ve never felt more unlucky, you’ve never felt more alone.

After a good two hours, he notices that your cries aren’t heard anymore and he looks at the bed, you had cried yourself to sleep. Poor thing, he thinks to himself. It’s about time for him to get ready to go, so you finally get your wish to return to the basement. He picks you up and walks you down the stairs, your out cold the whole walk.

He hopes you’ll find it more comfortable, he made you a fluffy safe haven on the corner of the large space. While you slept, he set up the plushy floor cushion that he ordered last night so you wouldn’t have to sleep on a padding-less mat. It was pretty expensive but he didn’t mind the price, it actually complimented the basement nicely. Laying you on the cushion, he un-cuffs your ankles. Instead of the small ones, he uses a long-chained cuff attached to the steel on the wall behind the cushion and hooks it to your wrist.

He covers you up with a fluffy blanket, caressing the side of your face when you snuggle against the cover, sighing in comfort.

Admittedly, he wishes you’d look that comfortable with him one day, sigh in his arms. In time, he hopes you’ll be able to realize that everything he’s doing is to spare your life.

He slips his gloves off, tossing them in the bin outside the lavish room in the wide-open halls of the mansion. After adjusting his suit jacket, he looks down at his watch, it’s getting late.

The party is still going on downstairs and now that the dirty work is done, he needs to find Park Jimin. A short walk past the many bedrooms and just when he thinks he should go look downstairs, he hears a giggling female. That means Jimin isn’t far. He approaches what looks like a powder room.

When he slowly opens the door he immediately turns his head, rolling his eyes, such class.

He takes out his phone and calls him, hoping that’ll get him to hurry up. With that, he takes a walk to the stairs and not long after, Jimin is fumbling out of the room, hair disheveled.

Our little secret, remember? Taehyung nearly throws up when he hears him say that to the woman who’s at least ten years older than him. He looks back at his temporary partner, watching as he zips his fly with the utmost class if that were possible.

“Hey, I got a little sidetrack, but I have what I need,” He walks beside him, a red glow on his cheeks, “you?”

“Of course.” Tae shrugs, “We should head out.”

“Already?” Jimin scoffs. “You’re no fun, Kim.”

Shaking his head, the two of them leave the party swiftly, Jimin’s Lambo growling in the night as Taehyung sits restless, he left you too long. He wonders if Jimin can pick up on his eagerness to get home, he’s sure it’s not that detectable. These jobs were never his thing, alcohol, too many people, too many distractions.

When Jimin drops him off but asks to come in so he can use the restroom.

“Down the hall, to your right.” Taehyung points, taking off his suit jacket and tossing it on the couch. For the life of him, he hopes you don’t start screaming, the last thing he needs is for Jimin to find out that you’re here.

It's painstakingly long few minutes before he breathes in relief, Jimin is walking down the hall, wiping his hands.

“It was a pleasure Taehyung, as always,” He leaves out of the front door with a wave.

Locking the door with the app on his phone, he waits for a few minutes. Just long enough to know Jimin had pulled out of the hallway and is halfway down the road.

Quickly, he goes to the kitchen to get you a snack and some water. He puts it on a plate and goes to the basement door, he presses his ear against the door to see if he could hear you moving around. Sniffling, he hears your sniffling and his heart drops a little bit.

He opens the door, the sound of his footsteps prompts you to wipe your face, he doesn’t get to see me cry again, that’s what you told yourself. You stare at him as he walks down the stairs, he’s wearing a dress shirt and dress pants. The dark blue silk shirt is rolled up to his elbows and a little unbuttoned, you assume he went somewhere fancy.

“Are you hungry?”

You shake your head no, not looking him the eyes.

“Well, I’ll leave it, just in case you change your mind,” He sits it on the cushion right beside you. For a moment, he stares at you for a bit longer than what most would deem comfortable.

“I bought this for you,” He’s referring to the cushion he so kindly chained you to, “hopefully you’ll sleep better.” Still refusing to give him eye contact, you bite at your lip anxiously, why won’t he just leave you alone?

He lightly touches your hand and you flinch away, a panicked glint in your eyes as you press yourself to the back of the cushion to be as far from his as possible. He backs away from you, a little confused.

“Hey, it’s okay,” He furrows his brows, eyes landing on your wrists, still bruised from your previous attempts to get away, “You need something on those bruises, I have a salve that’ll help,” He stands from his kneeling position.

“I’ll be back,” With that, he retreats upstairs.

As soon as the door closes, you wait a few seconds but eventually, you reach for the water and take a small sip. For all you know, he could have put something in the water, but you choose not to care.

It’s not long before he’s open the door, skipping down the stairs in sweats and a t-shirt, the salve in his hands, and what looks like cloth bandage.

“You drank some water, that’s good,” He’s scarily observant. Naturally, as if he had done it a thousand times, he reaches for your arm but you don’t shy away. What he had said to you early today comes to your mind so you decide not to give him any reason to fulfill the threats.

Sitting on the cushion beside you, he brings one of your wrists to his lap. You watch him gather some of the salves on his fingers before gently applying it to your skin. He does the same thing to the one hand he has chained and then wraps them in the soft cloth, careful not to make it to tight. When he closes up the jar, you bring your hands to yourself and you look at him, his face illuminated by the dim lights.

“I’ve never done this before,” He speaks suddenly, “I don’t know if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t...” You mutter, staring down at the metal circle on your wrist.

“I don’t expect you to trust me, but everything I’ve done, it’s not what you think.” He turns to you, causing you to look away once again. “You’re a good person, it’s nothing you did.”

“Then let me leave,” You swallow, “I- I promise, I won’t tell anyone, just let me go home, my family will be devastated when if they find out. I heard that guy you were talking to, someone reported me as a missing person, that means someone is looking for me... ”

He sighs. “I can’t.”

“Why not? You don’t seem like a bad person. If something in you is telling you to let me go, why don’t you listen to it?” You quietly plead, hoping your desperate tone affected him in some way.

“If they find out that I let you go, if my boss finds out that you’re still alive-...I can’t let that happen, you know too much, he’ll kill you.”

“The article is destroyed, so the guy who wanted it gone has nothing to worry about, I don’t understand why I even matter...”

“You just do. You can’t bargain with me about this. If there was a way for me to let you free without anything bad happening to me or you, I’d do it, but there’s not...” He pushes his hair back, brows furrowed in what seems to be distress.

He sighs, “I’ve never been assigned someone so young, you’re so close to my age. And I probably could’ve completed the job, but when I met you, and I looked in your eyes...” His words trail off and he stands up. “I couldn’t do it.”

“I feel like I’m being punished...” You look away, hands finicky, “I don’t feel like I’m being saved or protected, do you have any idea how afraid I am of you? You’re a stranger who’s saying all the things that I don’t know anything about, and you’re keeping me locked up in a basement. What you’re doing to me, it’s wrong...”

He suddenly gets on his knees and kneels in front of you, taking your hands into his despite your efforts to pull away.

“I hope you’ll understand that this is the only way like I said...You might eventually learn to like me, but you don’t have to,” He looks up at you, his doe eyes looking incredibly sincere, very different from how you’ve been seeing him, “and I won’t make you.”

You bite your bottom lip, “I don’t want to be here...”

Suddenly, he reaches a hand up and cups the back of your head. “it’ll be okay,” The size of his hand is now brought to your realization when his finger grazes your ear. He presses his forehead to yours and your eyes squeeze shut a the contact. When you feel your nose almost touch his, you instinctively jerk back and your hand responds on its own accord.

The sound of skin bluntly meeting skin is heard and you’re cowering back, immediately regretting your innate response. He lifts his hand to his now reddened cheek, he didn’t expect it to hurt so bad—you’re stronger than you look.

“Don’t- I just- Were you trying to kiss me?...” You stammer, a frown on your face. When you don’t fully elaborate, you settle on your own conclusion that he knows what you’re trying to say. He looks up at you finally, now standing tall above you.

He grabs your wrist, tugging you forward. It hurts a little but you stay silent, “This is why I like you, Y/n, that fiery spirit,” He suddenly drops your hand, seeming as if he decided not to physically respond. His response leaves you speechless, it’s not what you expected, “keep it up, you’re tempting me...”

With that, he leaves the basement and flicks off the light. “Goodnight,”

After staring at the door for a good minute, you decide it’s safe enough for you to lay down. You’re not sure how to feel about him right now. But for some reason, fear and apprehension aren’t as intense as before. And you might be wrong, but he sounded like he was convicted about doing all of this to you. Maybe he was just trying to make you feel like you could trust him, it’s hard to tell. But if there’s one thing for sure, something in your gut tells you that he’s not bad, he’s not the monster that you thought he was...

“She’s missing, her supervisor called me, said I was on her old emergency contact list,” He holds his phone between his shoulder and ear, not in a million years did he think he’d be calling his ex-girlfriend's mother with information like this, “don’t worry too much, I’ll try to get in contact with her.”

It’s been a few weeks since you two have talked, so when Suzy called him, his heart just dropped. Even after your break-up, almost a year ago, you two considered yourselves friends. The two years you shared together were great. You were thriving in your career, he finishing Med-school so he could begin his residency. Many nights were spent with you staying late at the office, or him pressing for finals—your lives just weren’t merging. That’s when you both decided you were better off as friends. But you still have platonic love for each other

“Dr. Kim, I switched shifts with Katelyn,” Sara, the new medical assistant at the clinic peeked on through the open office door, ”I’ll make sure she gets those messages,”

He nods, getting his keys so he can head out too. When he leaves, getting his car, he decides to shoot you a text, hoping you might respond.

Jin: Hey love, I know it’s been awhile, hope you’re doing okay. I got a call from your supervisor this morning, apparently I was still on your emergency contact list at work. She said she went to your house and you were’t there. She waited 24 hours and you still hadn’t shown up to work , contacted anybody. She went to the police station, reported you as missing. If you’re okay, please contact me or anyone, I’m a little worried

Taehyung lies in his bed, not bothering to slide under the sheets, his skin is warm to-touch. His cheek still stings, the feeling brings the image of your face to his mind, and he feels remorse. Never in all his years alone, did he think he’d long for someone's company, someone's gaze meeting his. This penthouse has always been a bit lonely, all this money and space, it can’t take the form of a person. A companion.

He feels guilty. He doesn’t have the right to think of your face, your eyes, your gentle hands that can inflict such pain, your spirit, what right does he have to grow so fond of those things. He’s never kidnapped anyone, especially not someone he was supposed to have killed months ago. But he did it to you, to the one he missed, in the words of his boss. The guild’s warnings prove to have been true all along. Don’t keep a target as a hostage, don’t get attached—it’s happening. He’s starting to want to get to know you, to get you to smile for him, at least once—it’s damn selfish, he hates himself for it.

When he hears a buzz coming from the drawer of his nightstand. He sits up, confused for a moment until he opens it up, realizing he had put your phone in there. He picks up the phone and presses on the message. He reads the message, eyes narrowing at the endearing term he used. Curious, he unlocks your phones and goes through your text vigorously, searching for what he hoped wasn’t there. As he goes to your past old messages from months ago, he sees I love yous, I miss yous, dinner at 7 my place? Then the texts become less frequent, the tender tone is no more and there’s apologizing on both ends. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this guy is your ex, now he’s on the list of people who are worried about you.

He drops your phone back in the drawer. There’s no way anyone could find you yet, he’s nervous. This is getting too close, and at this point, he shouldn’t, but he wants you closer.

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aaronburrdaily · 8 months

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September 10, 1809

Stockholm, September 10, 1809. Couche at 11. Rose at 7. Could scarcely get out of bed. To the bath at 8; staid in 3/4 hour and found myself very much relieved. Breakfast at d'A.'s. While at breakfast the beautiful little dom. of H. called with a note which he said was from Fruken Imhoff. It was an invitation to dine, but not exactly in ordinary terms. I replied that in case of passing the day in Drottningholm, which, however, was not intended, I was engaged but that I would call before dinner. I was not, in fact, engaged to dine. Went at 12. M.A.¹ received me; considers me in some sort her property; after 1/2 hour came L.² We walked in the garden. They culled fruits for me. Many civil messages from Madame, who is alitè³ (I suppose a fausse couche⁴). Announced my determination to leave Sweden, which was approved with politeness and something more. Offered letters to their German friends; urged much my dining, which refused obstinately. Came off at 2. On my way to H.'s called to see my amiable friend Mr. de C, who walked with me through the Kongl. Jurgardn⁵ as far as the Palace. To dinner with the d' Aries. Coffee with Madame de C. and then walked home, with stopping to smoke a pipe by the way according to custom. On my arrival at home at 1/2 p. 6, I learn with surprise that all the ports on the south side the Baltic from Stralsund inclusive west are shut against Sweden. Another interruption to my plans, for it was my project to land at Wismar and thence to Hamburg.

1 For Mary Ann. 2 For Louisa. 3 For alité. Bed-ridden. 4 A miscarriage. 5 For Kongliga Djurgården.

#aaron burr #the private journal of aaron burr

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umichenginabroad · 14 days

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Stockholm Week 16: Tate McRae in Stockholm!

It was my second to last week in Stockholm. I can’t believe that it’s time for me to go back to the US already. It feels like I’ve been here for two months now… I still have so much more to try and enjoy ;-;

The weather is beautiful now: it ranges from the high 40s to the low 70s but the sun makes it feel like mid 70s!

4/30 Tue: Cherry Blossoms in Kungsträdgården

On Tuesday, I had a group presentation for Crime Fiction. We presented a rewrite of the book that we read, The Legacy, for 20 minutes.

After class, I went to ICA nearby and bought ice cream as a small treat for myself :))

Coca-cola popsicle❤️

Ranting about the cherry blossoms for a few days did bore fruit: we went to see the cherry blossoms in Kungsträdgården.

Walking on a street full of cherry blossoms was on my bucket list for the longest time – being able to check it off the list in Stockholm was a wonderful experience. They were fully bloomed and the streets were fully packed too.

I could see happiness

On top of the cherry blossoms, I got to go out on a nice dinner for my friend’s birthday. We went to Florentine, a popular Italian restaurant in Stockholm.

Their signature drink Florentine on the Beach was fire🔥

The walk back to my house was a new experience due to the sight of hundreds of people wearing the same white marine hat. Apparently, it is a high school graduation tradition where all the graduating seniors where the hat and celebrate after school. Even the way back home was interesting!

I also spotted wildflowers on the streets on the way back home (I swear they weren’t there before).

Small things make me smile :)

Tuesday was a day packed with joy!

5/1 Wed: Food Trial

My friends and I checked out this Korean fried chicken place! We made a reservation for 5 people but had to wait an hour until the food came out… The taste wasn’t what I expected either🥲 Wouldn’t necessarily recommend but they did try their chicken well!

Monster chicken

5/2 Thu: TATE MCRAE

The big day has come – I completely forgot about the Tate McRae concert until a couple of days ago and I got extremely excited since then.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ

But before the concert: I woke up early (10 am) to do my laundry and saw this beautiful scenery outside the window.

Our garden is the best no cap < 3

I dressed up both for my final poster presentation for the Engineering Sustainable Environments in Scandinavia core course AND the concert because I had no time to change.

I was originally planning to miss the last class dinner, but (1) the class ended early and (2) I was convinced by free food. The burger place we went to was the building right next to DIS, so it didn’t consume much time either.

The burger with sweet potato fries (it was gas) on top of Briska pear cider (I love that thing) was the best combination I could think of.

Group pic!

I sprinted out of the restaurant not too late after my friends (already at the concert) asked me where I was.

I made it in time to Avicii Arena: I stood in the line for a good amount of time and went through security relatively quickly.

Once I went inside, I moved upstairs and my friends followed my lead. We had a better view!

The concert started with Charlieonafriday, who performed for about thirty minutes. He was a very good singer and a rapper! Low key a fan now.

The intermission after the opening was 45 minutes, and we were doubting if Tate McRae was lost or something. Thankfully, she came out and we enjoyed a full hour of her performance.

My personal favorites were greedy, exes, and you broke me first. And wow she could dance for real.

I did not want it to end :((

5/3 Fri

On Friday, I perfected my oral exam script for Swedish. My partner and I pulled together and memorized a 5-minute speech in Swedish with good pronunciation :)

We were constantly getting 5 minutes and 30 seconds on practices, but when we actually did the exam it somehow got shortened to 5 minutes.

Nevertheless, it was a success!

After our exam, we could leave early, so I went thrifting as a treat for myself. I was on a mission to find a brown leather jacket, but it did not happen :( I do not think it’s happening anytime soon either…

I almost bought the rabbit version but I stopped myself

I took a little detour to a park next to our apartment. Cherry blossoms and wildflowers prompted everyone (AND PUPPIES) to come out!

Spring is making me an outdoorsy person :)

The views from the garden in front of our apartment! I relaxed and absorbed the sunlight for a bit.

The next post will be devoted to my time in Italy.

I’ll see you later!

Hey då,

Jiwoo Kim

Chemical Engineering

DIS Study Abroad in Stockholm, Sweden

#UmichEnginAbroad #IPEStockholm #JiwooKim #IPEWinter24 #Sweden

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paaradoxum · 4 years

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BakuTodo Rec List of Fics Vol. II

It’s been a while since the last time I did the other list and many new, wonderful fics appeared (the dynamics will be the same: AO3 fics that includes top!Bakugou and bottom!Todoroki for those that are NSFW), so if you wanna check out here is Part I.

This time there are 32 fics in this list, I have more and probably I will make Part III soon.

Spoiler: EVERY SINGLE one of these stories are FUCKING AWESOME.

Rating: G

→ flowers die, feelings grow by kinneyb

Summary: When Bakugo first visits a local flower shop with Jirou, he buys some flowers in a lame attempt to piss off one of the employees - a guy named Shouto. But then he gets a little too invested in keeping his flowers alive.

→ Pretty by doop-doop.

Summary: Like so many things that had to do with Shouto, the question took Bakugou entirely by surprise. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

→ For a Single Moment by itsclowreedsfault.

Summary: Katsuki shakes his head with a sigh and an unbidden smile. Shouto's always been like an overexcited kid when it came to cats; Katsuki should've known he didn't stand a chance against them in Shouto's first visit to a cat cafe.

Rating: T

→ Ruin My Life by justhavesex.

Summary: He's not a vengeful person, really, he's not.

But him and Bakugou have started this little on-going war of theirs back in middle school when they were 10 years old and Todoroki had accidentally—if you got Todoroki drunk enough and fed his ego well enough he would, in fact, admit that it was very much on purpose—accidentally fed Bakugou's limited edition All Might magazine to his cat.

→ Aesthetic Distance by llyn.

Summary: This was around the time Shouto was appearing in all the blogs and rags and instagrams wearing a hideous faux fur coat of bright, hot neon like some awful crawling creature from an acid trip had been hunted and skinned, its pelt draped over Shouto's shoulders.

→ Dance To This by justhavesex.

Summary: Bakugou has never cared much about being an alpha, not really, not until he met the most frustrating omega in all existence: Todoroki Shouto.

→ Welcome to the Mile-High Club by minhakos.

Summary: In which Todoroki realizes that maybe airplanes aren't the only thing that should make him nervous.

→ Boyfriend Tactics by Esselle.

Summary: 'Shouto's eyes go impossibly wide. He seems to lose all powers of communication for a moment and just stands there, frozen, staring at Katsuki and the kitten. Finally, eventually, he utters the tiniest noise Katsuki has ever heard him make.

"Ah…" '

Katsuki comes to the aid of a small and fluffy civilian while on patrol.

→ Line by Line by Lillabelle.

Summary: With half his sketchbook filled with drawings of the guy, Katsuki wondered if he’s already crossed the line of being insanely creepy. They’ve never spoken, and he honestly only knew the person’s name was Todoroki Shouto because of role call in class. Shouto was just… so unique to look at with his half and half appearance. It was hard for Katsuki’s eyes not to get drawn to him. Not to mention they shared several classes, so if Katsuki ever got bored and felt like drawing something, there he was.

→ a todobaku one-shot collection by kagehinataboke.

Summary: all of my multiple, multiple, multiple todobaku one-shots. i stan two (2) dipshit boys that are obviously in love and hate with each other.

→ amaryllis by ?

Summary: The amaryllis has come to symbolize pride, determination and radiant beauty. Somehow this all suited Katsuki a lot more than Shouto expected.

→ tell ourselves a good lie by ElmoIsSatan. (In-Progress 12/?)

Summary: For a straight guy with anger issues, getting a “boyfriend” might just be his only escape.

Or-

Bakugo makes an impulsive decision and suddenly gains a boyfriend just to prove his parents wrong... The only problem is it’s all fake.

→ how to register for a library card (and get a boyfriend in the process) by Kaleid369.

Summary: “Friends have each other’s numbers, yeah?” Bakugou shrugs. “I don’t hate you, I guess.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you,” Bakugou snorts. “I gotta go. Text me so I have your number.”

“I will.”

He's already started walking away when Shouto blurts out, “See you tomorrow?”

Bakugou shoots him a smirk over his shoulder, as if to say, Duh.

Shouto stands and stares at his retreating back, and the thought of kissing him pounds along with the beat of his heart.

→ on brand by dinosuns.

Summary: Midoriya is honestly unsure what’s worse: the tragic fact that Todoroki Shouto can make anything look objectively incredible or the fact Kacchan has six versions of the exact same photograph saved onto his camera roll.

Nobody saves a photo that many times by accident.

Kacchan set the bar, Todoroki raised it. That is not a good thing.

→ The Journey Home by dinosuns.

Summary: “Your hair looks real fucking nice.”

“I thought it was about time I grew it out,” Todoroki says, something wistful caught in his voice. “You were always saying I should.”

That’s true. And Bakugou is satisfied to know he was right about it looking good, but it’s not like he can share that with the fucking class anymore.

Bakugou tells himself that he's fine with how things turned out between them. He also tells himself he's not still in love.

Rating: M

→ Zephyr by yeetin. (In-Progress 4/?)

Summary: The breeze that sifted gently through a golden sea of tall, dry grass brought the tiny spike of a different scent. An inconspicuous little prickle down the spine, barely even worth paying attention to. Something no one else would even imagine being able to notice.

But Bakugou did.

→ Objection, Your Honor by Myona. (In-Progress (8/?)

Summary: Shoto Todoroki hated Katsuki Bakugou. And he had plenty of reasons to do so.

But he didn't know that how things can change for the two of them who saw nothing but trouble in each other's presence and life altogether. Katsuki was a trouble from the first time Shoto heard his name, to the first day he met the man.

Rating: E

→ On Hot Blondes and Drunken Hookups by Crossfire. (In-Progress 4/?) I love this so so much.

Summary: “I’m Bakugou. What’s your name, Pretty Boy?”

Shouto looks at the drink in his hand, then back to the beautiful blonde boy, then back to the drink and downs it in one go, ignoring the slight burn as it slides down his throat, and while it would have been more suave to appear unaffected, he gives his head a little shake. He takes a quick breath and forces the words out before he has a chance to realize what a massive mistake this all is.

“Hot blondes I want to bang can call me Shouto.”

→ Tick Tick Boom by Ajaxthegreat. (In-Progress 6/?) THIS is so good, I’m in love.

Summary: An exhausted socially awkward violin prodigy and a deaf punk rock drummer walk into a bar.

→ Better Take a Mental Picture by chibibeeee. This is HOT HOT.

Summary: The one where Deku watches Bakugou take Todoroki and their exhibitionist kink is unlocked.

→ Cover: Blown by darkanddank. (In-Progress 1/2)

Summary: Some undercover agents got hooked on drugs. Went full Stockholm Syndrome, flipped and joined up with the other side. As Bakugou’s palm went flat over Todoroki’s navel and dove beneath his closed zipper, Todoroki started to understand just how easy it might be to go rogue.

...aka cop Todoroki gets his world rocked so hard by bad guy Bakugou that he has an existential crisis

→ Just One Bite by Crossfire.

Summary: This particular fuckup begins when he saves a cat from a demon in a sketchy alley.

Well, maybe slightly before that when his esteemed hedge-witch mentor turned out to be an incubus who coincidentally turned him and his stupid nerdy neighbor into incubi.

Or maybe when he was born to a non-magic family, but early on developed minor magical inclinations that turned out to be not-so-minor and kind-of-hugely-destructive.

Wherever this fuckup was born, it’s culminated as follows: Bakugou has been an incubus for one hundred and twenty-two days, seven hours, and thirty-six minutes, has not had a single successful feed, and is essentially slowly starving to death. His mentor is suspiciously MIA and that stupid shitty nerd has managed to secure himself a two-person harem so it’s just Bakugou, starving. To death. Slowly.

→ Gangster by Brixxen.

Summary: Bakugou is a detective trying to solve a case that's been open for months. He ends up in a town and meets a man who could be his undoing...

Todoroki wasn't expecting the blonde at the bar to leave him wanting more...

→ How to spend a Friday night by veltana.

Summary: That's how Katsuki ended up on his bed on a Friday night leaning against the headboard with his laptop between his spread legs, his hard dick in his hand, watching Shouto open himself up for him on the screen.

→ Your Turn by doop-doop.

Summary: An extra scene/epilogue/continuation of smd.

Bakugou and Todoroki housesit for Bakugou's parents and take advantage of Bakugou's large bed.

→ Comfort by hellaradholly.

Summary: Katsuki agrees to be Shouto's roommate after UA despite having an unbearable crush on him.a gift for Katie for the BakuTodo Valentine's Day Exchange!

→ Empire of Dirt by castiiron, clairesail. (In-Progress 5/?)

Summary: There was something different about being with Bakugou Katsuki. Something that Shouto had been searching for tonight, to no avail. A consistent burn in his gut, the warmth of a fire that hadn’t been stoked in many years. Katsuki had been inexcusably rough with him. Harsh in a way that had pulled him back to reality. Shouto hadn’t realized he was missing out, being so used to what he knew; going through the motions, a means to an end. His life for the last few years had revolved around mediocre sex as a way to abate constant desire, always at the forefront of his mind.

Unhealthy coping mechanisms are easier to hide when you aren't screwing your ex-classmate.

→ Be Quiet by chibibeeee.

Summary: Katsuki and Shouto stay the night at Deku's. If only they had any self control, then they wouldn't have to keep so quiet.

→ Speak Softly My Sweet Villain by Brixxen.

Summary: Ask anyone in Tokyo and they’ll tell you the same thing. That the No.1 Pro Hero Todoroki Shoto is the perfect hero. He’s kind to everyone, always the first to arrive on a crime scene, always the calm and collected hero everyone wants him to be.

It was ironic how things happened to lead Shoto to his current situation. Him moaning and shuddering like a teenager, clinging to the strong perfect body of the most wanted villain in Japan, Ground Zero.

→ Peanuts and Wolves by cashmeresho.

Summary: “Yeah, man, okay!” The guy holds up his hands in surrender and Shouto shoots him another apologetic look. “I really didn't know you guys were married! I didn't see a ring!”

“Oh,” Katsuki says. He frowns hard for a minute and then grabs Shouto by the arm to whisk him away to his table with Izuku and Kirishima to guard him or sniff him or whatever weird territorial thing he wants to do.

→ College Roommates|BakuTodo by S_Kuro.

Summary: Todoroki is the son of the famous Todoroki Enji, also known as Endeavor, his father is a famous business man that wants Todoroki to take over his business, but Todoroki wants to become a photographer. He goes against his father's wishes and goes to an art university miles away from home. There he meets a certain explosive blonde, who turns out to be his roommate. what sorts of ridiculous shenanigans will they find themselves in and what relationships will they end up in.

a BakuTodo fanfic

This is my first fanfic with these two, so don't judge me and I hope you like it.

→ Locker Room by darkqueen_25.

Summary: There are worse things to walk in on in a locker room, Inasa thinks, than your two new friends fucking against the shower walls.

There's probably nothing better than being asked to join in, though.

#bnha #mha #bakutodo #todobaku #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #shouto todoroki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x todoroki #top!bakugou #bottom!todoroki #bakutodobaku #fanfic #fic recommendations #fic list

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tomhiddlestonfanfic · 3 years

Text

A Step Too Far? Chapter Nine A Moon of My Own

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7 - Ch. 8 - Ch. 9 - Ch. 10 - Ch. 11

TITLE: A Step Too Far? NUMBER OF CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: 9/? WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Stepfather Tom OTHER CHARACTERS: Benedict Cumberbatch, Andrew Scott PAIRING: Tom/OFC, Benedict Cumberbatch/OFC GENRE: Drama, Hurt/Comfort WARNINGS: Spanking, Infidelity, Sex

CHAPTER NINE A Moon of My Own

Nina spent the weekend at home, bonding with baby William. She sang swedish songs to him and found that Tom was listening intently, trying to understand the lyrics. She ended up translating for him and teaching him swedish nursery rhymes and pop songs.

"I want a moon of my own, that I can go to, and forget that you left me. I can sit on my moon, and do whatever I want, I'll stay there until everything's alright," Nina translated one of her mother's favourite songs for Tom.

"Thank you for translating," Tom told her with a warm smile.

"No problem," Nina replied and continued to sing for her baby brother. "Jag är fattig bonddräng men jag lever ändå…"

"What was that song about?" Tom asked curiously from the sofa where he was laying down and watching her interactions with the baby.

"It's about a poor farmer boy who works hard everyday," Nina explained. "He gets drunk on Saturdays, gets into fights and sleeps with women. On Sundays he sleeps instead of going to church. Then the work week begins again. Eventually he dies and stands before God, regretful of his sins. But God forgives him and welcomes him into heaven."

"Is that really a children's song?" Tom questioned amusedly.

"The farm boy sings it in 'Emil i Lönneberga', so it’s sort of a children's song, I guess. Or maybe it's meant for the grown ups watching with their children," Nina replied. "It's written by Astrid Lindgren, so it’s for everyone."

"I see. I appreciate the existential theme," Tom told her.

"Me too," Nina agreed and smiled at him. She realised that she enjoyed spending time in his company. Things had become different between them ever since they started working together. She felt like she knew him a bit better now, and ever since he became a father, she had seen a more sensitive side of him. He had expressed his worry for her in more tactful ways and they hadn't been arguing as much as they used to do.

“You’ve spent most weekends at home lately, is something up?” Nina’s mother asked her during dinner.

“I’ve just been tired from work, so I haven’t really felt like doing anything on the weekends,” Nina replied with a shrug.

“Perhaps you should work fewer hours if work is making you so tired,” Helena suggested, looking a bit concerned as she gently caressed her daughter’s cheek. “She could do that, right Tom?”

“I’ve already offered that,” Tom replied, also assuming a look of concern as he looked at Nina. “The offer still stands.”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Nina insisted.

“But you don’t seem to have any energy left for your friends,” Helena objected.

“Isn’t that what life is like as a grown up? All work, no play, and then you die?” Nina questioned gloomily.

“Nina, are you getting depressed again? Are you taking your medications?” Helena asked concernedly.

Nina sighed heavily in response. “I can’t recall ever becoming undepressed,” she muttered and got up from the dinner table, grabbing her plate and glass. “Thanks for the food.”

“You’re welcome,” Tom replied as she left the dining room.

Nina threw away the rest of the food and placed the dishes in the dishwasher before heading to the fridge, grabbing another one of her precious energy drinks. At least they presented her with some joy in her quite lonely life. She would occassionally call Jim over for sex, but other than that, she spent most of her time alone. Nina’s loneliness had been a source of concern for her mother for many years. It had even gotten to the point that Nina sometimes went out for hour long walks, telling her mother that she was seeing a friend. She had done that a lot during the summer, taking a book with her to sit and read by the sea. Her favourite book was one that Tom had gifted her for her nineteenth birthday. It was called The Stranger and was about the absurdity of life and the feeling of alienation. Nina felt alienated a lot of the time, as though she did not belong anywhere in this world.

During the evening, Tom came by her room to check on her.

“Can I come in?” he requested and Nina nodded at him as she sat up in her bed, putting her laptop aside. “We worry about you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Nina told him, pulling her knees up to her chest, hugging them.

“You seem... lonely,” Tom said carefully.

“I need to be alone a lot,” Nina told him. “Being around people takes a lot of energy.”

“Then maybe you should work shorter hours, so you have energy to do fun things with friends and not only work,” Tom suggested. Nina snorted in response.

“What friends?” she asked.

“How about the one you spent a lot of time with this summer? Viktoria?” Tom said.

“Viktoria is not real,” Nina admitted.

“What?” Tom asked confusedly.

“I made her up so mom wouldn’t worry so much about me being alone,” she explained.

“But you were away for hours at a time, sometimes all day and sometimes all night,” Tom said frowningly.

“Yeah, it was kind of fun actually, how you never figured it out when you never got to meet her,” Nina told him with a sad smile. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? Making up imaginary friends when you’re twenty? And still living with your mother because you’re too afraid of what you would do to yourself if you had to live alone?” she confided in him.

“It’s not pathetic,” Tom said earnestly and put an arm around her shoulders. “I had no idea you were feeling that way. I thought you lived with your mom because you were comfortable that way, not because you were afraid to live alone.”

“Please don’t tell mom about this. I’ve told her that Viktoria moved to Stockholm, so please don’t tell her that she never even existed. She was so happy when she thought I had a best friend,” Nina pleaded.

“I won’t tell her. But I think you need to see someone about this. Didn’t you have a psychologist?” Tom asked.

“It didn’t work out between us, so I stopped going,” Nina reminded him.

“Right,” Tom remembered. “How about finding you a new one. I’ll be more than happy to pay for it.”

“You don’t have to pay for it,” Nina told him. “You gave me a job, remember? I can pay for therapy myself now. Especially as I’m living here for free.”

“I want you to save your money for the future or use them to have fun. I’m paying for your therapy,” Tom insisted.

“I never even agreed that I would go see a therapist,” Nina said.

“Please, see a therapist. It would give your mother and I some peace of mind to know that you have someone to talk to about those things,” Tom pleaded.

“I'll think about it,” Nina told him.

“Thank you,” Tom said with an appreciative smile.

The weekend passed and it was soon Monday again. Nina looked up to see Benedict standing by her desk. He didn’t look pleased. He was probably still upset by the fact that she had spied on him and his family.

“I would like to have a word with you in my office, miss Andersson,” he requested calmly, seemingly holding back on his anger. Nina looked up at him defiantly.

“How about no?” she told him irritably. She didn’t want to be alone with him, because she would probably end up almost having sex with him.

“No?” he questioned incredulously and leaned down over the desk, so that their faces were just decimetres away from each other. She could feel the smell of his cologne and felt an involuntary thrill of excitement run through her body as she looked him in his darkened eyes. “My office now,” he told her firmly in a low voice.

“Fine,” Nina finally agreed, afraid that Benedict would make a scene otherwise. He looked like he could barely contain his anger. She glanced over her shoulder at her colleagues as she followed him to his office. They all seemed busy doing their jobs, not taking notice of what was going on between her and Benedict. She felt relieved. It would be embarrassing if they thought she made major work related mistakes that would have one of her bosses get angry with her. While she had made a major mistake, at least it was not work related.

Benedict shut the curtain and locked the door, just like he had done preceding week. Nina swallowed nervously. Was he going to beat her again? She knew she would agree to it, even if she wished she would have had the integrity and self-respect to tell him no.

"What the hell were you thinking sneaking around my house?" he demanded angrily. "What if Sophie had seen you?"

"Then you would probably be able to come up with a good lie to explain my presence. Because it comes naturally to you, doesn't it? Lying," Nina told him bitterly.

"I hate lying to my wife," Benedict told her. "I already told you that."

"Then don't give yourself any reasons to lie," she replied.

He approached her angrily and Nina found herself slapping him hard across the face. He looked at her in astonishment for a brief moment, then grabbed her by the arm dragging her with him towards the desk. Nina felt herself grow moist between the legs and a tingling sensation in her lower abdomen as he bent her over the desk. She shut her eyes tightly as he pressed her face down against the desk surface and she bit her lip hard as she braced herself for the pain to come. Benedict slapped her bottom hard with his hand several times, before undoing his belt. This time, he waited between the lashes for Nina to recover before landing the next one across her buttocks. Nina whimpered slightly as she neared her limit and he stopped hitting her with the belt. He roughly grabbed her ass, squeezing it with his hands before rolling up her tight pencil skirt over her hips. Nina gasped as he unexpectedly ripped her tights open in the groin and put his hand between her thighs.

“You naughty girl,” he told her as he felt how wet she was. He touched her, moved the thong to the side and entered her with two fingers at a time. He fingerfucked her until he felt her convulse around him, she was shuddering with pleasure and panting heavily. “Did you come?” he asked smirkingly as she stood up and turned around towards him. She put her arms around his neck and brought him into a kiss. They made out and she began to feel horny again. She touched his erect penis through his trousers and stroked it eagerly.

“Fuck me,” she whispered lustfully into his ear. She didn’t need to ask twice. Benedict lifted her up on the desk, undid his black trousers and released his erect penis. Nina smiled satisfiedly at the sight of it before it entered her. “Fuck me hard,” she requested, and he did. She had to bite her lip hard to suppress a loud moan as he fucked her quickly. She orgasmed again and he pulled out of her.

“On your knees,” he ordered, his voice demanding and his eyes darkened with lust. Nina fell to her knees before him and viciously smiled up at him. “Open your mouth,” he said and she quickly obeyed. She felt like a porn star as he ejaculated into her mouth. “Swallow,” Benedict said, but she grimaced in disgust and shook her head at him as she got up to spit out his cum into his coffee cup.

“Oh, you naughty girl,” Benedict commented with a grin as he watched her trying to make herself look presentable.

“How’s my makeup?” she asked him and he looked at her closely before running his thumbs underneath her eyes, wiping away some mascara.

“Did you cry?” he asked her surprisedly as he continued to gently wipe mascara from her cheeks.

“A little bit,” Nina admitted with a shrug and managed to smile at him. The guilt had overwhelmed her the moment she orgasmed for the second time.

“Your makeup probably needs some touch ups, but it looks fine,” Benedict told her as he pulled out his wallet from his pocket. He took out a thousand krona bill and handed it to her. “For a morning-after pill,” he explained as she looked at him confusedly. “I think I might have come a little bit inside of you.”

“You’re making me feel like a cheap whore,” Nina muttered, but accepted the money. Benedict pulled out a couple of more bills from his wallet and tried giving them to her. “No thanks,” she told him and refused to take the money.

“Do you promise you will take a morning-after pill?” he asked her as she turned to leave.

“Of course, I don’t want a child with someone like you,” Nina told him irritably.

“Don’t forget to take the coffee cup with you,” Benedict reminded her with a smirk. Nina angrily went back towards his desk and grabbed the coffee cup, before stalking out of his office. What the hell had she just done?

Nina went into the kitchen and angrily threw the coffee cup into the trash. She then proceeded to kick the trash can until a familiar voice interrupted her.

“Did mister Cumberbatch yell at you again?” Stina asked concernedly.

“He did,” Nina replied, her eyes filling up with tears. Stina went up to her and hugged her.

“I’m sorry that he’s being such an ass to you,” Stina told her sympathetically. “If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”

“Thank you, Stina,” Nina told her appreciatively and tightened the hug. They stood like that for a long moment until another colleague entered the kitchen.

“Nina, what’s the company’s policy on workplace relationships?” Erik asked her provocatively. He must have somehow heard about their date.

“It’s fine, as long as you’re keeping it professional at work,” Nina told him as she stepped away from Stina.

“That didn’t look very professional to me,” Erik told her.

“It was just a hug, Erik,” Stina told him and smiled carefreely at him. “I can give you one too, if you like,” she offered cheerfully. “You look like you could use one.”

“No thanks,” Erik said with a grimace and hurriedly left the kitchen.

Nina and Stina shared amused looks before heading back to work.

Nina felt weighed down by guilt for what she had done, but somehow managed to get through the workday. Benedict cheerfully told her goodbye before heading homewards and she replied with an exaggeratedly gleeful ‘see you tomorrow!’ Her smile faded the moment he turned away from her and was replaced by a dark glare.

“What are you glaring at Ben for?” Andrew asked her curiously and she flinched. She hadn’t noticed him standing there a few metres away, watching her interaction with Benedict. “Did something happen?”

“He yelled at me,” Nina said and noticed Stina looking at them from a distance. She couldn’t exactly tell Andrew the truth, now could she? She felt like she wanted to come clean to someone about it, but didn’t know who.

“What for?” Andrew asked and Nina searched her mind for some error she could have made that would make Benedict yell at her.

“I misspelled his name in an important mail,” she lied. “I wrote Cucumberbatch and he found it humiliating.” She couldn’t help but smile at her own lie. Andrew returned her smile.

“I see,” he said amusedly. “I could talk to him about treating you more gently, if you like,” he offered, but Nina shook her head at him in response.

“I’m fine. Now that it’s over, I do find it kind of funny,” she assured him with a genuinely bright smile. She wanted so badly to believe her own lie. How great it would have been if only it had been true.

But it wasn’t true. On the way home, Tom put on her mother’s favourite song about wanting a moon of your own to go to and stay there until everything was alright again. Nina’s filled with tears as she thought about how she just wanted to escape somewhere far away from everything. She wanted a moon of her own to go to.

“Are you alright?” Tom asked her concernedly.

“Yes, I was just thinking about Ted,” Nina told him.

“Ted Gärdestad? Who sings the song?” Tom asked her.

“Yeah. I was thinking about how beautifully he sang and how sadly he died. He killed himself,” Nina told him sadly.

“That’s very tragic,” Tom replied seriously and threw her concerned looks for the rest of the car ride home.

“I’m going for a walk,” Nina informed her mother and Tom after taking a shower and getting dressed into a pair of jeans and a David Bowie t-shirt.

“But dinner is almost ready,” her mother objected.

“I’ll eat when I get back,” Nina assured her and put her shoes and jacket on. Tom took out the trash bags out of the kitchen bins and put on a pair of slippers, following her out.

“Nina,” he said as they reached the bins outside the house. She turned around to look at him. He had a concerned look on his face. “You’re not thinking about doing something rash, are you?” he asked her seriously. Nina frowned slightly and then remembered their conversation in the car earlier.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself, if that’s what you’re talking about,” she told him frankly.

“Good,” Tom replied with a brief smile. His blue eyes still conveyed concern. “Don’t be too long or we’ll get worried.”

“I’m twenty years old,” Nina reminded him. “Not a kid, I can look after myself.”

“I know. But I still want you to be careful and not stay out too long,” Tom insisted. “Remember that you have work tomorrow.”

“I know. See you in a bit,” Nina told him.

Nina just kept walking as she listened to music and tried not to think too much about what was weighing her down. Eventually, she sat down by a lake and looked at the full moon in the sky. Its light was mirrored by the water surface of the lake and she found it breathtakingly beautiful. She turned off the music on her phone and sang softly to herself where she sat on the rocks. She sang the song about the moon as tears rolled down her face. She imagined what Ted must have felt like during his last moments of life and was filled by death agony. She put her phone and headphones down on the rocks before standing up. She looked at the water surface and dived into the cold water with her clothes on. As she reached the surface, Nina gasped at how cold it was and swam back up to the rocks where she climbed up and grabbed her phone.

She was shuddering with cold as she walked back home in soaking wet clothes. As she got inside, Tom came to greet her in the hallway and looked at her in shock.

“What happened?” he asked frowningly.

“I fell,” Nina lied.

“Should I put your phone in a bag of rice?” he offered.

“The phone is fine,” Nina told him. Tom looked at her suspiciously.

“You didn’t fall, did you?” he asked frankly. Nina shrugged at him. “I asked you not to do anything rash.”

“It wasn’t rash, I spared my phone and headphones,” Nina objected.

“Your lips are blue. Come, let’s go down to the basement so your mother doesn’t see you like this,” Tom told her, putting a gentle arm around her shoulder as he walked her down to the basement. “Clothes off and step in the shower, I’ll get you some dry clothes,” he instructed and respectfully turned away as Nina immodestly began to take her clothes off in front of him. She wasn’t trying to seduce him or anything, she was just too cold to care if he saw her naked body.

Nina took a hot shower and smiled sadly to herself as she found a towel and clothes laid out for her. Tom was always being so nice and gentle towards her. For once she felt grateful that he was a little bit boring and not more like Benedict. She realised that she would never be able to live with the guilt if she managed to get Tom to be unfaithful to her mother. She got dressed and went upstairs to find Tom on the sofa in the living room. She walked up to him and smiled.

“Thank you for being so boring,” she told him, causing him to laugh surprisedly.

“I don’t think I’m that boring,” he objected as she sat down in the armchair next to the sofa.

“You’re just the right amount of boring,” Nina said. “I mean it as a compliment.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Tom told her amusedly. “You seem a bit happier now.”

“I am,” Nina told him with a smile.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston real person fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #dad tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston father #a step too far?

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moving-accounts-uwu · 4 years

Text

Home Is Where The Heart Is {Pt. 1}

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Characters: Seed Brothers x Serah (OFC)

Story Type: Series

Series Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, death, violence, romance, fluff, polygamous relationship, abuse, smut, slight dub-con, religious themes, kidnapping, brain-washing, Stockholm Syndrome & Lima syndrome, some elements of the games is used (locations, story/timeline, etc).

Chapter Warnings: None!

Word count: 2.3k words

Story Summary: Serah is a young woman living in Fall’s End, Hope County and has lived there all her life. She owns her own farm and B&B, nothing very exciting ever happens in Fall’s End - except for the occasional chaos caused by Sharky Boshaw. That is until one day, three men show up with a broken down car and seeking a place to stay. Serah, being the kind and caring person she is, lets these men into her home with open arms, but she truly doesn’t know what she has invited into her life.

A/N: each chapter will have specific chapter warnings/trigger warnings at the beginning to help those who would get triggered to know what is about to happen in each chapter. I wouldn’t want to trigger anyone tho ;w; Other than that, I hope y’all enjoy this chapter 1 and updates to this story will be slow though. I know this first chapter is short but make sure to show it some love so I know y’all like it and I can continue it!! Gif is not mine btw~

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Hope County was never really busy or loud; it was mainly quiet and peaceful. People could leave their windows and doors unlocked during the nights because no major crimes were ever committed, and the fact that Hope County only had a small amount of law enforcement because of the low crime rate.

Hope County was the perfect place for Serah. Serah had lived in Fall's End for nearly seven years, and her life has never taken a turn for the worst while living on her farm. She owned a few cows, chickens, pigs, and horses that she tends and cares for. Her large farmhouse has also been renovated to be Fall's Ends very own 'Bed & Breakfast'; getting the occasional tourist here and there, or sometimes it's a local needing a little change in scenery. Serah's main customer is Sharky Boshaw.

Sharky liked to cause a little trouble, otherwise, Hope County would be too quiet. Whenever Sharky was too drunk to go home, he always managed to walk to Serah's farm and keep her company while tending to him. Serah was also good friends with Kim and Nick Rye, the couple being her closest friends since she moved to Montana from New York. Serah wanted a change of scenery herself, and she always dreamed of owning her own farm and 'B&B'.

It was a warm morning when Serah woke up in the early hours on a Saturday. She groaned a bit, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and giving her muscles a good stretch before leaving the confines of her bed. Most of her farm chores were done the day before, so only a few small chores were left remaining. Serah planned to go to The Spread Eagle to visit Mary May, another good friend of hers from when she first moved to Fall's End and worked at the bar for four years.

As Serah was doing some dusting around the house with only having to hang out the laundry after, she was excited to get a move on and get it finished.

"C'mon, Serah, nearly done then we can have drinks to wash the stress away."

Serah couldn't wait to relax before Monday began; the only days she really lets loose is on the weekends with Mary May, and sometimes Sharky if he hasn't already been drinking and passed out somewhere. When the chores were done, Serah took a quick shower to freshen up and put on a cute white, lace sundress that had a deep neckline that flashed a bit of her cleavage and stopped just above her knees.

Serah parked her car in the parking lot before pushing through the bar doors, looking around at the few patrons already there just before 1 p.m. When she approached the bar, Mary May was quick to greet her.

"Hey, beautiful! Just finished all the chores on the farm, yeah?"

"You have no idea..." Serah gave a dramatic sigh of relief while Mary just laughed.

"Don't worry, sweetie! Maybe you could ask one of the boys to help you out around that big farm of yours. You probably need to hire some farmhands, otherwise, you're gonna get tired and grey from stress." Mary May was very motherly for someone who was only a few years older than Serah.

"You know I would if I had the money, Mary. I can't afford to hire farmhands while paying my bills, groceries, and animal feed. I'd either go broke or couldn't pay them enough to keep around." Serah shrugged before getting comfortable at the bar, trying to decide what drink she'd want to order first.

Serah ordered herself a Bourbon and Coke while conversing with Mary and a few other patrons, having the day pass slowly and having a good time. It wasn't until two in the afternoon that Serah thought about heading back to the ranch. She asked Mary if she could leave her truck in the parking lot, which Mary said yes and that she didn't need to ask, while Serah called Nick for a lift.

Serah didn't have to wait for Nick long; he came under less than 2 mins and picked her up.

"Hey there, Serah! You have a good time?" Nick asked while he headed towards the ranch.

"Oh yeah, I had a few drinks to help unwind. It's been a rough few days working, but I got everything done. Maybe I'll get a few new guests or Sharky might just crash at mine whenever he's too drunk to go home." Nick and Serah both laughed at the thought.

Nick and Serah had a sibling bond; Nick was like an older brother and Serah being younger. Serah met Nick when she turned 21 and had her first drink at the Spread Eagle, where she was introduced to Nick and Kim Rye, then five years later, she was basically another Rye in their eyes. She had a second family after losing both her parents to cancer when she was 19. Nick and Serah even got tattoos of each other's names that Nick claims 'Now you're a Rye! You're now my little sister'. The memory always brings tears of pride and joy to Serah's eyes.

Nick parked in front of Serah's ranch before hugging her tight.

"You know, you could always ask me to help you out if things are too much, sis."

"I know that Nick, but I couldn't possibly ask of that from you when Kim is this far along in her pregnancy. She'll need your help more than me. She could give birth next month or so." Serah tried to reason, but Nick just scoffed.

"Kimmie is a tough son of a bitch, every time I offer to help her, she tells me she can do it herself. Trust me, I have plenty of free time to help you out." Nick gave Serah a comforting squeeze on her shoulder before she hopped out of his car, waving him goodbye and watched him drive away.

With a sigh, Serah walked back into her home and started to plan out what to make for dinner. She heard the soft sound of her white cat, Alpine, purring away in his perch at the window sill, the sun coating him with warmth.

"Hey there, Alpine, did ya miss me?" Serah giggled as she walked by him, scratching behind his ear as she went.

*2 hours later*

Serah always had a habit of making large portions of food as if other people lived in the two-story house. She couldn't help it, Serah just created that much food so she wouldn't have to worry about making more the next day. She guessed that it was because she would have to cook for the guests when they stayed at her 'B&B' and she just can't help it. While she let the chicken and corn soup to simmer, she started to get Alpine's food ready because she knew he'd become needy soon.

"Alright, buddy, you'll be having some delicious prawns, your favorite!" Serah sang as Alpine came rushing over and meowing loudly at the smell of the prawns.

As Serah put the prawns into a small bowl and placed it on the floor near the kitchen island, she heard the sound of a slam and a muffled, angry voice followed by a calmer voice. Serah's curious mind got the better of her and snooped near the front window and peeked out through her translucent curtains to see what the commotion was. There was a black SUV parked on the side of the road, small amounts of smoke coming from the hood while three men stood around the front of the car. One of the men had red hair and beard with scars covering parts of his face and forearms; he was the one who was angry at the fact that their car must have broken down while the two other men stood around letting the redhead vent. One of the other men was dressed in very luxurious clothes and had many tattoos covering his arms and hands, and he also sported a beard. The other man had his hair in a bun, wore yellow-tinted glasses, and looked to be trying to calm the scarred man.

Serah was still in a daze by watching the men that she hadn't realized that the men had noticed her house, and one of them was making their way to her front door. The sudden sound of knocking on her door startled Serah out of her daze and she quietly made her way to the front door. When she made sure her little latch lock was in place, she opened the door slightly to greet the man with the tinted glasses and man-bun.

"Hello my child, my name is Joseph, and my brothers and I happen to be in a bit of a predicament. It seems our car has broken down and we don't know how to fix the issue, would you happen to know of anyone who knows mechanics?" The man said.

Serah blinked for a few seconds, registering what he had said.

"Oh!" You looked at your little wristwatch to see that the time was now 4:30 in the afternoon and that the closest mechanic store is at least 45 minutes away and closes at 5 o'clock. "Um, the closest mechanic is nearly an hour away, and they'll be closing soon, so you won't be able to see them until tomorrow."

"That is quite alright. I also saw that this loving ranch was a 'Bed & Breakfast', would my brothers and I be able to seek refuge here for the night until one of us are ready to walk into town?" Joseph gestured to the two other men still standing by the SUV who were looking at them from afar.

"Oh, of course! And because of your circumstances, I won't charge you; I'd feel bad if I did. Save your money for when you get your car fixed." Serah gave him a warm smile, unlatching the lock on the door and opening it wide.

Joseph motioned for his brothers to come forth while he continued to talk to you.

"That is very kind of you, my dear. May I ask, what is your name? It's silly of me for not asking our host's name."

She then made way for the three men to enter her house and they huddled in the open space living room.

"My name's Serah, and I'll be your host. I've got some chicken and corn soup that's just settling and will be ready to serve. I also have spares bedrooms upstairs if you'll follow me!" Serah led the three men to the rooms and let them choose a room for themselves while also being introduced to the two men, John and Jacob.

Jacob was the eldest Seed brother while Joseph was the middle child, and John being the youngest. Jacob served in the army and was a hardened soldier; John used to be a lawyer while Joseph claims to be 'The Father'. He preached about the gifts of God and how God would occasionally speak to him or give him visions about 'the Collapse'. Serah was never really religious; she never cared for religion but never stopped anyone who did. She politely listened to Joseph talk about this 'Project at Eden's Gate' and how he and his brothers have come to Hope County to save as many people as he can before the collapse because that is what God has told him.

Serah started to serve the Seed brothers the soup when John spotted Alpine walk into the dining area.

"Oh, and who is this little guy?" John asked while petting the white feline.

"That's Alpine; he was a stray when I found him as a kitten. He was so small and malnourished, but he stole my heart the second I saw him. He's my little fur baby." Serah picked Alpine up into her arms and cuddled him for a bit.

The four of them ate, Joseph and Serah doing most of the talking, John contributing now and then while Jacob grunted in acknowledgment. Joseph talked more about Eden's Gate then asked where would be the best place to buy a property big enough to host sermons for him and his followers or 'children' as he called them. Serah answered as many of Joseph's questions but told them that they would have to see sheriff Whitehorse about getting a license to carry when John asked about that.

When dinner was over, Serah grabbed all the empty bowls and was prepping to wash them when John stopped her.

"Please, you've cooked and let us rest for the night for free, the least we could do is wash the dishes. Go and relax, dear."

Serah gave him a sweet smile, nodded, and thanked him before heading for the living room to read a book. Jacob seemed to already have worked out the TV remote, and he and Joseph were flicking through the channels. The sat in silence with only the noise of the dishes being washed in the kitchen to fill in as background noise. The rest of the evening went by with small talk and watching whatever is on TV before the Seed brothers and Serah bid goodnight to each other at around ten.

As Serah was about to enter her room, she was stopped by Joseph yet again.

"I'd like to thank you again, Serah. It seems God has led us to you, and to be blessed with your kindness and hospitality. Hopefully, in weeks to come, we'll see you again. Goodnight, dear." With that, Joseph went into his room, leaving Serah in the little hallway who was touched by his words.

As Serah did her nightly routine and hopped into bed, she had a nightmare of an explosion and the world on fire.

Thank you for reading this short chapter!

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 4 years

Photo

“Berliner Fernsehturm” * Foto: BernardoUPloud

After her marriage with Frank Randall has failed and Claire Beauchamp flees from her violent husband, she finds refuge in the house of the Fraser/Murray family in Berlin-Wilhelmshorst. But then tensions arise between Britain (which has since left the EU) and some EU member states. All holders of an English passport are required to leave EU territory within six weeks … and suddenly Claire’s fate looks more uncertain than ever.

This story was written for the #14DaysofOutlander event, hosted by @scotsmanandsassenach

Chapter 6: 14 Men (2)

A deep breath escaped Claire’s lungs as the limousine drove on.

It seemed as if pure adrenaline was pumping through her body. The thought of leaving the country with a man who was almost a complete stranger to her had already created a strong excitement in her. She still didn’t know if she could trust this person. The way to her marital home and the stay in that room where the horrible deed had happened had cost her unspeakably much effort and strength. But it was the unexpected and repulsive encounter with that being, which she could no longer call human, that had almost pulled the ground from under her feet. It was only thanks to his alcohol level and the intervention of Etienne that Frank could not live out his hatred and brutality again. Claire was sure that she would not have survived another ‘encounter’ with him like the one the night before. And still, still, she had to gather all the strength she could find in her body, her soul and her mind. Because she had sworn an oath …

Claire opened her bag and took out her smartphone. Again she breathed in and out audibly. Then she dialed one of the numbers she had saved some time ago, albeit reluctantly. Jamie’s eyes followed her. It took a moment, then someone seemed to answer.

“Smartphone" by JESHOOTS-com

“Mrs. Travers? This is Claire Beauchamp. You know who I am, and I’ve known who you are for a long time. The man who cheated on me with you is lying on the sofa in the living room of his house. He’s drunk. He may vomit and choke on his vomit. If he means something to you, take care of him. The key to the front door is under the pot with the little buxus, which is on the top step of the stairs to the house. And when he wakes up and sobers up, tell him I left him. Once and for all. He’ll hear from my lawyer.”

Claire didn’t wait for an answer. She hung up and deleted the number. Then she turned off the phone and slipped it into her bag. She looked out the window of the limousine. Silently, she began to cry.

Jamie, who had noticed, put his arm around her and pulled her towards him. But Claire pulled her face in pain and he immediately let go.

“I’m sorry, Claire, I didn’t realize… ”

“It’s okay, you couldn’t …

She pushed her right hand over to him, which he took carefully and stroked gently.

“I’m sorry, Claire. I’m very sorry.”

“Thank you. It’s over,” she said softly, leaning against him exhausted.

“Yes, it’s over,” he replied and then added whisperingly, “By this time tomorrow we’ll be in Berlin and from then on you’ll have all the time in the world to relax … and recover.”

She closed her eyes while he continued to hold her hand. He would only let her go if she wanted him to.

An hour after they left the house, they arrived at the airport. The chauffeur parked the limousine and he unloaded the luggage onto a luggage cart, which he steered towards the check-in. Jamie and Claire followed him. Suddenly a slim, black young man came towards them. He was wearing dreadlocks, covered by a colorful knitted hat, on which large headphones were sitting. He reminded Claire of Bob Marley in other ways as well. Although the young man must have seen them, he ran straight towards Jamie and bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry, man!”

The young man raised his hands defensively. In one of them, to Claire’s amazement, he held an issue of the American magazine ‘Wine Advocate’.

“It’s all right, no problem bro!” said Jamie and smiled at the young man, “Nothing happened.” They continued on to the check-in where Carl was already waiting with the luggage.

“Etienne,” Claire said excitedly, “I think the young man booby-trapped something from your coat. He reached into the inside pocket! I saw it clearly.”

Jamie smiled at her. Then he replied:

“Shh, it’s all right, go on. Keep calm and carry on.”

Claire could only look at him in wonder.

Arriving at the baggage claim, Jamie said goodbye to his chauffeur.

“Carl, I travel a lot on business, but you’ve been the best chauffeur I’ve ever had. Thank you for the service and especially for your discretion. If I ever have business in Boston again, I’d be happy to take you up on it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Jamie reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took out a small envelope.

“This is for you, Carl. Buy something nice for your child and take your wife out to a special dinner.”

“How did you know, sir …?”

“I happened to see the picture on your smartphone when you were holding it yesterday.”

Carl smiled, then he reached out to Jamie.

“Thank you, sir, and have a safe flight home.”

Shortly after that, Carl disappeared with the baggage car. Jamie reached back inside his coat and turned to Claire.

"The young Bob Marley fan,” he said whisperingly, “even though he reached into my coat, didn’t steal anything. He put your passport with the visa and your ticket inside. The bump-into-trick works the other way round, too.”

He smiled. Then he handed her the passport, which contained the ticket from Boston to Berlin. Claire was silent. She wouldn’t have known what she could have said. Only one thought kept going through her mind: Who on earth was this man?

A few minutes later they checked in their luggage and received their boarding cards. They went through the security and identity check, went to the gate and after passing another check, they boarded.

Jamie didn’t know how the “In Vino Veritas” team had done it, but he decided to thank them for getting Claire the seat next to him. He told her to take the one by the window.

They went through the usual introductory program and finally the plane took off, leaving Boston first under and then behind them. Although Claire loved to look out of the window while flying, she now consciously resisted this wish. She never wanted to look back at the place where the most horrible thing that had ever happened to her … had happened to her. She closed her eyes and wished for nothing more than to finally fall asleep.

Boston - General Edward Lawrence Logan International by Konstantin von Wedelstaedt - Gallery page http://www.airliners.net/photo//0171420/LPhoto http://cdn-www.airliners.net/aviation-photos/photos/0/2/4/0171420.jpg, GFDL 1.2, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=26879312

Then everything happened very quickly. On the flight to Berlin, Claire had slept most of the time. Only once did she wake up. It was at Stockholm Arlanda airport where they had to change planes. When they arrived at Berlin-Schönefeld Airport, Jamie had woken her gently.

He took care of the luggage and when they came to the exit a young man was waiting there whom he introduced to her as Felix Kloppstock. He loaded her luggage into a black Mercedes S-Class Coupe Concept. Jamie opened the door for Claire, let her in and sat down next to her.

“We’re driving to my house, but we have to stop by the company first. It won’t take long.”

Claire nodded. She was too exhausted to ask questions.

Almost half an hour later Felix Kloppstock dialled a number on the car phone and announced his arrival. When they stopped in front of a five-storey building with the name “In Vino Veritas” emblazoned in large letters on its façade, the car was spotted by a surveillance camera. Then a large steel rolling gate opened and the driver steered the car into an underground garage.

“We have to change cars now,” Jamie said and opened her door.

To Claire’s surprise, the garage was quite large. There were only a few other vehicles in it, though. They were mostly small vans, the majority of which had “In Vino Veritas” written on them. Each of the men took parts of the luggage, then Claire and Etienne followed Felix through a wide aisle and two fire doors into … another underground garage. Several passenger cars were parked there. The men walked towards a black BMW M550d xDrive Touring and loaded the luggage into its trunk. Then, Jamie opened the front passenger seat door for Claire.

“Please take a seat. I’ll be right with you.”

She nodded. Then she saw the two men walking to an elevator door. A moment later the door opened and out stepped an elderly man with gray hair, wearing a blue suit. Etienne and the man talked briefly, then Felix Kloppstock and the stranger disappeared in the elevato. Etienne returned to the car.

Although the men all smiled and patted each other on the back as they said goodbye, Claire was a little eerie.

“Etienne, what’s all this about?” she asked when Jamie got back in the car. Hoping to instill confidence and trust in her in this way, he took her left hand and smiled.

“There’s no need to worry, Claire. I’d parked my car at the company before I left on my business trip. It’s what I always do.”

He started the car and drove it towards a steel roll-up door that resembled the one they used to enter the first garage. He waited until the security camera caught him and the door opened automatically. Then he drove out. Claire noticed that they left the building in a completely different way than when they entered it. But she knew that now was not the time to ask any more questions.

For about twenty minutes, their path led them through the city, then the picture changed. For a longer time they drove through a wooded area. Finally, a few smaller villages and a large motorway junction followed.

“Potsdam / Babelsberg” by Kai_Vogel

“Now we are leaving Berlin and we are in Brandenburg,” Jamie suddenly said.

“Brandenburg?”

“One of the 16 German states. The state capital is Potsdam. It’s only ten minutes from our home. We’re just passing by Babelsberg. Maybe the name means something to you. It is the most famous film location in Germany. When the GDR still existed, its state film company, the DEFA, had its headquarters here. The place was also popularly known as “Honnywood”, a pun from “Hollywood” and “Erich Honecker”, the head of the GDR government at the time. But that was long ago.“

They drove through a small town area and then came to a less populated area. Jamie turned onto a road that led to a stately country house. The house was on a sloping hillside property that was enclosed by a limestone wall with a wooden fence on top. At the entrance of the property was a small pavilion. This pavilion, also built of limestone and with a red pointed roof, reminded Claire of an ancient guard house. The path leading to the house and the car park in front of it was framed by pine trees on both sides. When they stopped directly in front of the house, Claire saw a huge tree on the right, which she estimated to be at least fifteen meters tall. But before she could take a closer look at the house, Jamie had already got out and held the door open for her. Out of a garage door that apparently led directly to the lowest floor of the house came a friendly looking older man. He was wearing brown corduroy pants and a white shirt over which he had put a green quilted jacket. When he saw Etienne, he smiled over his whole, very round, face. The two men greeted each other warmly. Then Etienne introduced the older man, whose head was only framed by a wreath of grey hair, as Frieder Ballin.

Suddenly the big oak door had opened and a woman whom Etienne introduced to her as his sister Janet, called Jenny, had come out. Jenny had welcomed Claire with great kindness. A few minutes later, they were sitting in the living room, drinking tea and eating apple pie. An hour later, Claire was lying in a freshly made bed in a room prepared especially for her, fast asleep. When she woke up, she had slept for nearly eighteen hours. To her surprise, there was a small table with a thermos of tea, a Tupperware box with sandwiches, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a small vase of yellow and red tulips by her bed. Her suitcase and backpack stood next to the door of her room. Someone must have put all this in there while she was sleeping.

It was eleven o'clock the next morning when Jamie, who was taking a walk around the house, saw the shutters on Claire’s windows being pulled up.

He was happy to see a sign of life from Claire and hoped that the long sleep had done her good. At the same time, deep inside his stomach, a sinking feeling came over him. Now he would have to talk to her. It had to be now, it definitely had to be before the children returned from their trip. And he would have to reveal a truth to her that he didn’t know how she would react to. All he could do was hope that everything would work out.

Ten minutes later, Jamie came knocking on Claire’s door. When she opened and greeted him, he was relieved to see that she really looked more recovered.

"Claire, are you okay?”

“A little better, yeah. Thank you, Etienne.”

“I have something important to discuss with you. Would you please come with me?”

Claire nodded. Then she picked up her bag and followed him.

While they walked through the house, Jamie showed her the different rooms. About ten minutes later they were standing in front of a double door. Jamie opened the right door and pointed in:

“Please. This is our little library.”

Claire walked in. A room opened up to her, with bookshelves on three walls. On the fourth wall, a large window opened onto a garden. Jamie pointed to four comfortable leather armchairs set around a coffee table. There stood a bowl of fruit and drinks. They sat down. Then Claire, who could no longer stand the tension, asked:

“What is it, Etienne?”

Jamie took a deep breath, like he was trying to get a running start inside.

“Library” by mbahoco

“Claire, I have a confession to make …”

She didn’t say anything, just looked at him defiantly.

“I … haven’t been completely honest with you …”

Claire’s gaze changed into a state of consternation.

“It’s not that I was deliberately deceiving you …”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because … I would have put myself, my family, and probably you in danger.”

"And what did you lie about?

Claire’s voice trembled slightly.

"My name is not Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre.”

She had expected many things, but not this.

"Your name is not Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre? But you have a passport …”

“Yes, I have a passport with that name. And this passport is not fake. It "s real. I …”

Claire saw non-Etienne kneading his hands, but he stopped immediately when he noticed her look.

“I use that name because it’s too dangerous for me to travel under my real name.”

“Why is that?”

“Because otherwise I might be kidnapped, taken to a maximum security prison and put away for life … for high treason.”

Only later would she admit, admit it only to herself. But the thought that this man, whoever he really was, would be locked up for the rest of his life stabbed Claire’s heart.

“Then who on earth are you?”

“My name is James Fraser, you can call me Jamie.”

Claire’s eyes had widened in astonishment. Then she said slowly, as if in shock:

“James Fraser? The James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser? Lord Broch Tuarach?” The shock hit his whole body like lightning. But before Jamie could ask how she knew his full name, Claire went on: “You are one of the ‘14 New Jacobites.’ You are one of the leading men of the Scottish independence movement. You have fled Scotland with your family and are said to be somewhere in Europe. Downing Street No. 10, the government of Vladimir de Salty Brownson, has put a bounty on your head!” Claire clapped her hands together in front of her face. They were silent for a moment. Then Jamie asked: "How do you know all this, Claire?” For a moment she seemed to be struggling, but then she said: “My husband, Frank. He’s not just a historian, not just a professor at Harvard. He’s also worked for the Ml5 … and still does. You … and the 14 New Jacobites are the centre of his work.”

#14DaysofOutlander #Outlander #Outlander Fan Fiction #from boston to berlin in 14 hours #Claire Beauchamp #Jamie Fraser #modern au #jenny murray #Ian Murray #Frank Randall #Sandy Travers #black jack randall #boston #Berlin

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need-a-new-hobby · 4 years

Text

Bloodline

Piper tapped her heel against the cold elevator floor, checking her wristwatch while balancing her 7 cups of coffee. Stepping out, she saw Jordan speed past her and weave between agents in the bullpen to Hotch’s office. “This can’t be good,” she heard Rossi say as she offered the two coffee. Jordan flung open the door, interrupting Hotch’s call.

“We have a request from Alabama.” She spoke confidently while Hotch attempted to interrupt. “A husband and wife were murdered at their home while they were sleeping. Their 10-year-old daughter went missing. Bodies were discovered less than an hour ago.” As Hotch marched down past Bishop, Rossi and Prentiss with his go-bag, he gave them the briefest of explanations while grabbing his coffee. Piper passed Jordan her coffee quickly and while Prentiss went to fetch Morgan and Reid, Bishop grabbed their go-bags, only having to juggle 2 coffees now.

In the jet, Piper sat in front of Rossi, adjacent to Jordan as she flicked through the file, listening to Todd’s briefing. “Parents are Geoff and Nancy Hale; both their throats were slit.”

“Efficient kills. Cold, calculated,” Piper noted quickly.

“That’s because the real target was down the hall,” Emily added.

“She has a name.” Jordan frowned at Emily. “Her name is Cate.” Emily nodded and Spencer shifted in his stance next to Hotch. Even Garcia could feel the tension all the way in DC.

“Well, with the unsub’s head start, he could be anywhere within a 400-mile radius,” Hotch said, eyes trained on his file. “Todd, make sure that they're casting a wide enough net. Cate’s biological father found the body. Bishop, I want you to interview him. Garcia, I want a list of registered sex offenders in a 20-mile radius and aerial views of the neighbourhood. Dave, you and Morgan go to the crime scene. Prentiss go through the autopsy report and Reid build your geographic profile. Remember, we have less that 8 hours to find her.” The briefing over, Piper left to grab a cup of coffee and Jordan followed her.

“You see this type of stuff often?” Piper sighed wearily.

“I hate to say it, but they happen.” Jordan leaned her head against the airplane wall.

“I don’t get it. She’s 10. What possible reasoning could there be? How sick do you have to be to—” Piper lay her hand on Jordan’s shoulder gently.

“You honestly want to know?” At Jordan’s nod, Piper continued. “Justifications for child abductions vary greatly. Most of the time, they’re done by women who want to replace their own lost child. Other times, they’re paedophiles who can’t keep it in their pants. They’re the ones you can’t feel sorry for.”

“Huh—” Jordan went to say, but Piper was on a roll now.

“And incidentally, child abductions aren’t recent either,” she rattled on, oblivious to Jordan’s deepening frown. “Aztecs would ritually sacrifice a child under 10 every day. There’s even debate on whether the Pied Piper of Hamelin was a medieval mass abduction and I am not helping, am I?” Piper winced at her own indiscretion. “Sorry.” Piper took her cup and left to settle down in her seat.

Derek took off his sunglasses as he exited the SUV, approaching the house. They greeted the officer who showed the agents the crime scene, walking them through the back door with the smashed windowpane, up to the master bedroom. Meanwhile, Emily looked over the autopsy report with Jordan. Both groups noticed the same thing as one pair stared at the bloody bedsheets and the other flicked through the photographs. “We’re dealing with multiple unsubs,” Emily pointed out to Jordan before going to find Hotch who told her that Derek and Rossi came to the same conclusion.

At the same time, Piper entered the sheriff’s office, the stench of booze hitting her before the sight of the man. “Hi, I’m Dr Piper Bishop, I’m with the FBI. Can I get you something? Coffee or water?”

“No-no. I can answer your questions, Doctor.”

“Piper’s fine. Sir, do you know if anyone disliked your ex-wife and her husband? Did they have any enemies?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know. I don’t- don’t know.”

“That’s okay. What about Cate? Did she tell you about anyone new in her life?”

“She's a normal kid, you know. She...meets people all the time.”

“This would be an adult, possibly a white male. He might be an authority figure to her. Could be a new teacher or neighbour…”

“Uh…sorry.”

“Sir, what do you know about Cate?”

“Um… We go to the movies a lot…There’s a new multiplex at the mall so…”

“I’m sorry, sir, but when’s the last time you saw Cate?”

“I get visitation every two weeks.”

“I see. And you stick to that schedule?”

“I uh…”

“Look, sir, with all due respect, I need to know everything about Cate. Can you provide that kind of information?”

“Umm… What kind of information?”

“Things that make her unique. What makes her stand out? Even if it’s just dietary requirements.” Piper shrugged, hoping he could give her something.

“Well, she has epilepsy. Gets seizures sometimes.”

“Thank you. We’ll keep you posted with any developments.” Piper shook his hand heartily before sprinting out to find Hotch. Piper leaned against the table next to Spencer as she told Hotch who dialled Morgan immediately to check for whether her medication had been taken too.

“They didn’t know to take the medication,” Hotch announced to the group as Emily and Jordan joined them from another room.

“So, the crime isn’t personal?” Spencer asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“I think it adds up. I mean, look at the MO.” Piper motioned towards the pinned pictures. “Slitting their throats, it’s efficient and cold.”

“That makes tracking them down harder, though,” Emily thought aloud. “Think about it, what’s the motive?” Piper moved past Emily to look closer at the pictures, then the map.

“Efficiency. They killed the parents,” she murmured as the group watched her. “No point of extortion if the parents are dead or if the biological father hasn’t seen her in…” Piper whirled around; eyes wide.

“What is it?”

“She’s 10, pre-pubescent. Not old enough for it to be human trafficking or slavery but…” Piper hesitated, stumbling over her words. “I think she’s a forced child bride.” She stammered, trying to explain as she saw the confusion in her team’s expressions. “Look, they killed her parents and if they didn’t even know about the medication for her epilepsy, then it’s likely they didn’t realise she had a biological father. It’s efficient and calculated and she’s just young enough to be susceptible to brainwashing or Stockholm’s syndrome even. I can’t see any other explanation and it’s a feasible possibility.” She turned to Spencer to back her up.

“Well, a recent study did find that 6 out of 1 000 children in the United States were married and Unchained at Last found marriage licenses for more than 167,000 children, so it’s possible.”

“The problem is when they’ll find out she has epilepsy. They could discard her or even…” Piper didn’t want to say the words, not out loud, but everyone heard them.

“And the primary cause of seizures is stress,” Emily said, and Jordan left, not wanting to hear any more.

When Derek and Rossi returned, Piper and Emily filled them in while Spencer kept expanding his geographical profile. Hotch reappeared from the Sheriff’s office, taking Piper and Jordan with him to the hospital. Cate had been found on the side of a road, 84 miles from the house, which confused both Hotch and Spencer.

As they entered the hospital, Hotch asked Piper to conduct a cognitive interview with Cate, explaining it might make things easier for Cate. Piper obliged, stepping inside the private room, and asked to speak with Cate alone. Her father left and Piper introduced herself with a warm smile which Cate reciprocated weakly. The little girl tried sitting up and Piper helped her. “Hi Cate. I’m Piper, I’m with the FBI. I’m very sorry about your parents. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions so we can find out who did this?” Cate shook her head, ready to get this over and done with. “I’m gonna do what’s called a cognitive interview, okay? It’s how we help you remember what happened.”

Cate’s voice turned small. “I’m scared,” she whimpered. Piper held her hand.

“I know, honey. But I’ll be right here. We’ll get through this together.” Cate nodded slowly. “Okay, I want you to close your eyes. What’s the first thing you remember?”

“It's cold.”

“You're outside? Who's there?”

“A man. he told me to-- keep quiet.”

“What is he doing?”

“He's holding my hand. It hurts. He's waiting for something.” Piper rubbed Cate’s wrists.

“What does he look like?”

“I don't want to be here.”

“He can't hurt you; I promise. I'm right here,” she repeated soothingly to Cate.

“Tall. Dark hair. Old.”

“Old? Old like me?”

“Old like my dad.”

“Is anyone else there?”

“Someone's coming! Piper, Piper, help me!” The little girl started to shriek, and Piper enveloped her in her arms.

“I’m right here, Cate. He can’t hurt you,” she said tenderly. “I’m right here.” Cate started to calm down, her breathing steady against Piper. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” Cate took in a deep breath as she straightened up, evidently calmer. Piper kept her hands wrapped as Cate closed her eyes again.

“He—He put me in the trunk.”

“How long were you in there?”

“I don't know. Not long. 10 minutes.”

“Was the ride bumpy or smooth?”

“It was smooth. I wanted to scream, but no sound would come out.”

“It's okay,” Piper said, rubbing Cate’s hands. “So, the car stops, and they open the trunk. What do you hear?”

“Wind. Wind through the trees.”

“And what do you smell?”

“Cooking.”

“Are you inside now?”

“They’ve taken my shoes off.”

“That’s so you won’t run. You’re doing great. I want you to look down at your feet and tell me what you're standing on.”

“Carpet. I'm in a little room. With clothes and tinfoil all around me.”

“What do you hear?”

“I--I hear bells.”

“What kind of bells?”

“Small. Like a fairy. Every time they ring, the man says something to the boy.”

“The boy?”

“He's standing right next to you,” Cate whispered.

“How old is he?”

“9. Almost 10. His mother’s calling him, puyule or something. I think his parents want me to play with him.”

“His parents?”

“Piper, I don't want to go. I don't want to go. Don’t let them make me go!”

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. I’m right here. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?” Piper kept rubbing Cate’s hands. “Cate, open your eyes.” Piper smiled as she blinked slowly. “See? I’m right here. Everything’s gonna be okay. You did a great job, you know that?” Cate nodded slowly before hugging Piper tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and Piper carded a hand through Cate’s hair.

“Listen, I’m gonna send your father in, okay?” Piper got up from the hospital bed, kissing Cate on the forehead before she left. She clasped Mr Scheuren’s shoulder. “You’ve got a very resilient daughter, sir. She’s going to be just fine.”

“Did they touch her?”

“No, no. Not in that way, no.”

“Thank god.”

“You can go in and see her if you’d like.” She smiled mournfully at the father and daughter embracing, turning as she saw Hotch approach. “She was taken by a family. Parents and a little boy about her age. They took her from her house in a car and then into an RV. A short ride on a road and then into a wooded area. Explains how they only travelled about 90 miles. She also said the mother called the boy puyule, I’d guess some form of nickname. Emily or Spencer might know where that’s from.”

“Call her. I’ll get Derek and Rossi to check RV parks.”

^-^

The next morning, the team reconvened in the precinct. Piper was perched on a table, sipping a cup of tea. Emily had mentioned the night before that puyule was a Romanian term of endearment and Derek and Rossi had found shards of coloured glass matching the ones found at Cate’s house. “You know, if the family speaks Romanian, the spreading of the glass makes sense,” Piper remarked. Her colleagues blinked at her. “It's an Eastern European superstition for good luck.”

“So, they're Romanian. We already knew that,” the sheriff scoffed.

“Not just Romanian,” Spencer elaborated. “We're talking about people that are highly superstitious and obsessed with ritual.”

“Romani.” Piper nodded, continuing to sip her tea. “Gypsies, but this family’s specifically the type that perverted Romani culture. Usually, gypsies are tight-knit and nomadic like our unsubs, but not usually prone to violence.” The sheriff just stared at her.

“Why do you know that?”

“My father’s a gypsy,” Piper deadpanned, slurping her tea as Spencer smirked behind her and Morgan chuckled as he called Garcia to widen her search parameters.

“Hey, baby girl, we need to talk.”

“PG or NC-17?”

“You're on speakerphone.”

“I charge extra for groups.” Piper chuckled through her tea.

“We need you to run through crimes similar to the Hale murders in the last 2 years,” Rossi called out.

“Oh, I already did that. Zip.”

“Go back even further, Garcia. Cross-reference against any small towns that have had reports of petty theft associated with waves of Romani populations entering the area.”

“Romani?”

“Gypsies,” Piper filled in.

“As in "gypsies, tramps, and thieves"?”

“Exactly.” Derek smirked.

“Oh, bless you all for turning my life into a Cher song.” Piper’s eyebrows furrowed at Garcia’s pop culture reference.

“Isn’t that song about a minor’s relationship with an adult who then gets pregnant?”

“Piper don’t you dare ruin Cher for me. As for Derek, you will have it nearly immediately.”

“You're the best.”

“We have another problem.” Piper set her empty cup down. “Cate said the kid was almost 10 and she clearly didn’t fit their needs. That means they’re probably hunting another victim as we speak.”

“We need to deliver our profile. Sheriff, you need to get your men together as soon as possible.”

^-^

“The unsubs we're looking for are a family,” Hotch said as the large group shared the information packets between them. “A father, a mother, and a son, approximately 10 years old. We believe they're of Romanian descent.”

“The family travels in an RV,” Rossi continued, “but they also have another vehicle that they use to go back and forth between campsites and cities.”

“We need you to call every RV park in the area,” Derek asked. “Alert the owners to be on the lookout for a family that fits this description, as well as a campsite that might have broken glass scattered around.”

“The breaking of the glass and the discarding of Cate Hale because of her epilepsy leads us to believe that these are highly superstitious people and that they are playing out a very specific ritual,” Spencer explained, gesturing with his hands. “The focus of this ritual are the young girls.”

“Do we know why?” A voice piped up from the middle of the group.

“Historically, prepubescent girls were chosen as brides, purely because a child’s developmental process was based on their physicality.” Piper explained from Spencer’s side. “Girls would be married before they hit puberty so that they could learn the duties of a wife and mother. As society changed, so did the age requirements for marriage. We think this family is perverting those ancient norms as a cultural obligation.”

“We do know from the location of Cate Hale's house that they don't come across these girls by accident,” Rossi continued. “They study. They hunt.”

“Cate's father said that she liked to go to the movies at their local multiplex. That's a good place to start,” Piper provided.

“Also look at the parks, malls,” Hotch continued. “Concentrate on those that are an easy drive from the RV parks you locate. This family is out there and they're looking for their next victim.” As Hotch finished the profile, Emily popped in from the next room.

“Hotch, you need to see this.” The team walked in to see the fax machine in overdrive, sending out flurries of paper.

“What is this? Garcia, you there?”

“Present. So, I went ahead and went further back looking for similar cases and I made the search national. There's 30 of them and they go as far back as 1909. Rapid City, South Dakota, Taos, New Mexico, Gary, Indiana. My map is lit up like a Christmas tree.”

“This looks like a generational tradition.” Piper held up about 5 cases in her fist. “There’s no way the same nuclear family unit could be doing all of these… Emily, the autopsy report, what made you think there were two unsubs?”

“The father’s throat was slit cleanly, the other wasn’t.”

“Was it shaky? As though someone was doing it for the first time?”

“You don’t think…” Emily trailed off. “They really are training a child to become a killer.”

“They’ve got an entire method planned out,” Rossi realised. “They kill the parents so that finding the child becomes a matter of less priority.”

“Sir, it gets worse. I got a hit on a hair fibre in the blanket the unsubs used to wrap Cate Hale. It belongs to Kathy Gray; she was abducted in 1971 after her parents were murdered.”

“So, you're telling me one of these little girls is now one of our unsubs?” Piper rubbed her face and collapsed into a chair.

“That's what it looks like.” Jordan mirrored Piper’s movements, sitting on the couch with cradling her head in her hands. While most of them shuffled off to the hotels to get some sleep, Jordan sat by the table, reading through each report.

“You’ll go crazy doing that.” Piper smirked as she sat down across from her, sliding a cup of coffee towards her. “Figured I might as well stay up with you.”

“How come these cases don’t get to you?”

“Oh, believe me, they do. They get to us all. Even Hotch. But it makes us better profilers, better people.” Jordan nodded.

“I just feel like—”

“You should be doing more?” Piper chuckled, tracing the rim of her mug with her forefinger. “Yeah, that question plagued me for years. I was constantly moving jobs; you know and one day I found myself in Texas as a history teacher at an elementary cum middle school. And as I’m teaching these kids, my class goes from 45 down to 43 and turns out, it’s a kid in my class.” Piper scoffed. “Some days I still feel responsible. Like I should’ve paid more attention or talked to him or something. But I try to live with it. I pay more attention to people. We make mistakes. We have to own up to them and live with them and hope that it makes us better for it.” Jordan nodded, then faltered.

“What, what happened to your kids?”

“Oh, another kid in my class chased them into the woods before bludgeoning them to death.” Piper nodded; her mouth drawn into a line.

“A working theory from 1971 was that a transient killed the family and abducted Kathy Gray. Then all the leads went cold. How do you watch your family get murdered and then make a life with the people who did it?”

“It's Stockholm syndrome. You adapt or die.”

“So, now she's training her son to be a murderer?”

“At a certain point, once traditions are handed down generation after generation, there is no right or wrong. Add in the fact that the Romani are a closed society, the unsub’s simply twisted and distorted traditions to become entirely insular.”

“So, abducting the children keeps the bloodline pure, killing the parents makes sure people stop looking for them.”

“Yeah. Sick, isn’t it?” Their conversation died as the sheriff walked in.

“We’ve got a report of an RV on fire about 20 miles from here.” Piper stood up, downing the rest of her coffee.

“Can you let the others know? I’ll go get started on the new scene,” she asked before leaving, accepting the keys to a bike she could use.

^-^

Piper surveyed the charred RV, pulling on blue surgical gloves as Derek and Spencer pulled up behind her. “It was started less than an hour ago,” she announced, “so they can't be far. It looks like they left almost everything.”

“They got what they wanted; they’re starting over.” Spencer nodded as he walked over to the spilled over clothes and remnants.

“Look at the clothes. Most of them still have the store sensors on them,” Derek pointed out, holding up a pair of burnt trousers.

“The tinfoil.” Piper squatted. “Cate Hale remembered being locked in a room with clothes and tinfoil.”

“Makes sense, the Romani tend to make their living being petty thieves,” Spencer added.

“Looks like they really are gypsies, tramps and thieves,” Piper joked sardonically.

“Also accounts for the bells.” Spencer held them up, handing them over to Morgan for closer inspection. “Cate says she remembers hearing the sound of bells, followed directly by the father talking to the son.” Piper snorted, getting up.

“School of the 7 bells.” She shook her head mirthlessly. “You dress a mannequin; you line a suit with 7 bells. If you can pick his pocket without a bell ringing, you're ready to work a crowd.” She shrugged, wiping her hands.

“They abducted Lynn and killed her family in an area that they knew was surrounded by police and the FBI,” Derek sighed as he rose up.

“They had to. They can't deviate. We also know that they're starting over,” Reid explained, joining the two. “Which means they're gonna need some money. We need to get to the nearest mall.” Piper nodded, pulling off her gloves and moving towards her bike as Spencer called Hotch.

Piper stormed purposefully into the mall, helping the sheriff direct officers into Hotch’s given positions. Within a half hour, the BAU had local officers peppered strategically throughout the mall, putting up wanted posters as the profilers split into pairs to traverse the multiplex. Piper and Emily strode towards the food courts as Spencer and Derek took the first floor. Dave and Jordan traversed the higher end department stores while Hotch kept an eye on security footage. Before Piper and Emily could be tempted by the delicious lure of food, they heard a siren from the floor below them and started sprinting down the escalator. As her feet slapped the escalator steps, Piper’s heart pounded, unlatching her gun. She heard Emily yell out as she jumped the last few steps. “Kathy Gray! Put the bags down and your hands in the air!” Piper handcuffed her, pushing her towards the police to escort her out, uncertainty lodged in the back of her mind.

“Something’s not right,” she muttered, a hand scratching her bare neck. “They've been stealing for years and they never get caught. This was too easy,” Emily’s forehead unwrinkled and she haphazardly dialled Hotch.

^-^

Piper watched intently as Emily and Hotch played good cop, bad cop. While Hotch played the part of an infuriated boss, eerily well Piper noted, Emily played the calm voice of reason, arguing with Hotch every few minutes and a few more minutes later, Piper felt Spencer’s arm brush against hers. “How's it going so far?”

“They're trying to crack her by reminding her of the girl she used to be.”

“I hope this good cop/ bad cop routine works. If her family gets away, we've lost that little girl forever.” Piper nodded solemnly; her jaw clenched tight.

“We’ll find her,” Piper asserted gently, before walking out. Spencer stayed, watching as Hotch kept pressing her for information, dictating names of every fencer in Huntsville. Finally, after what seemed like a dozen or so names, she spoke.

“I won’t help you.” Emily beamed at Kathy.

“You just did.” Spencer ran out, alerting the team and they left, each donning their vests and mics.

Piper slammed the SUV door behind her as Rossi and Morgan flanked her. On the opposite side of the SUV, Hotch and Spencer flanked Emily as the 6 of them approached the fencer. Through the clamour of bright flashlights in the dark, Piper wrapped her arms around the little girl while Derek and Hotch cuffed the father. Emily took the boy to another SUV as Piper carried the 10-year-old girl to her own SUV. Despite the shouting behind her, the SUV was a sanctuary as the little girl gulped down an entire water bottle. Piper shut the door behind her, leaving herself and the little girl alone in the car. Piper managed to dig out a candy bar from her bag in the car, handing it to the girl who started crying about halfway through the bar, from grief and exhaustion. “You’re okay,” Piper soothed, caressing her hair as the little girl clutched at her. “I’m right here, you’re gonna be okay.” They stayed like that until the little one fell asleep on her lap. The nightmare outside over, Spencer and Rossi entered the SUV and Piper raised a finger to her lips at them, making them aware of the sleeping child. Piper stroked her head as they headed to the hospital.

Once admitted, Piper made sure the little girl was sleeping peacefully before slipping out of the hospital with Spencer. Yet, Spencer noticed the still-injured face Piper wore. “Hey, we got them. It’s over.” Out in the cold night air, Spencer resisted the temptation to slip a stray strand of Piper’s hair away.

“We got one family, Spence. You saw that pile up of unattended cases.” She gazed off into the woods. “Who knows how many more are out there?” Spencer desperately wanted to wrap Piper in his arms, tell her it would all be okay, that he would fix it all for her. But all he could do was nod solemnly.

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mira-eyeteeth · 4 years

Text

Captivating, pt. 2

I finally wrote the final part of this fic (part 1 here). Thanks to @ask-a-pale-experiment for reminding me to get this fic done!

Jack had somehow managed to drag himself to his feet and get through the following day while mostly not huddled in a little ball of misery.

Well, not significantly more than usual, at least.

It was only when he got home that evening when everything went wrong.

He'd just shut the door to his apartment behind him with a sigh when someone lunged out of the shadows to grab him and clamp a hand over his mouth.

His mind was racing, wondering how one of his enemies could have figured out his identity and where he lived, while his body was acting already, hands rising to touch his attacker and freeze the blood solid in their veins.

He paused centimeters away when the person spoke in a hissed whisper.

“Shh! It’s all right, I’m not here to hurt you.”

Piki. It was Piki. What the hell was Piki doing in Jack’s home? Had he finally figured it out?

"Don't worry, don't worry, it's just me. It's Piki," the man added, removing his hand from Jack's mouth and pulling off his domino mask, as if Jack somehow wouldn't be able to recognize him with it on. "Look, I'm really really sorry about this, but I promise that it's for your own good."

"Wh-what's-" Jack stammered.

"I promise I'll explain everything. But first…" The shadows rose up to swallow them both, and when light finally returned, Jack found himself in entirely different surroundings. It was a little room with a handful of furniture, two door, and no windows.

Piki let go of him, stepping back. "Sorry. Look, you're in danger-- Wait, no, not like that! I'm not going to hurt you. It's… It’s the Winter King. He’s a supervillain, you might know about him. He somehow figured out that I… ah, well, he threatened you. He’s dangerous, and I don’t know if he might decide to hurt you. So I need to keep you safe. Just for a little while! Once I figure out how to dispose of him, I’ll let you go.”

Jack just stared at him. This. This was the conclusion that Piki had come to. Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug Piki or shake him for being a complete idiot, but he was leaning towards the latter.

Piki fidgeted, looking nervous. “I, er, I got you some books,” he added, gesturing to a stack of them on a bedside table. “Notebooks, too, in case you want to write. Let me know if there’s anything else that you might like, and I’ll see what I can do. With any luck, this should only take a few days. A week, tops.”

Jack doubted that very much.

“I… I’ll just let you get settled in. If you need anything, just knock on the door. The other one goes to a bathroom,” Piki explained, backing further away and slipping out the door, and closing it with a click of a lock.

Jack flopped back onto the bed with a groan. Well, this was a hell of a situation he was in. On the plus side, Piki hadn’t figured out about his secret identity. On the other hand, he intended to keep Jack captive until he murdered the Winter King, who also happened to be Jack. What the hell was Jack supposed to do about this?

He supposed he could always tell Piki about his secret identity. And in doing so, reveal his greatest secret to someone who hated his guts and would at the very least likely attempt to make good on his murder threat. Jack didn’t think it was likely he would be able to succeed, but if he didn’t kill Piki, and likely his brother, in turn, then Piki would likely reveal Jack’s secret identity to everyone he could out of spite. Jack’s life would be ruined. But he didn’t want to kill Piki.

He could wait until Piki and Pitch left to go hunt for the Winter King, and break out of the room. It wouldn’t be hard to make ice to pop the deadbolt out of place. But Piki would no doubt attribute his disappearance to the Winter King, and Jack would be back in the same position as before, unless he faked his own death and moved to a new town. An extremely less than ideal solution, especially as Piki would doubtless try to track the Winter King back down for revenge, if news of Jack’s activities made it past local headlines.

Or Jack could just… stay. Not exactly a sustainable solution, but maybe Piki would eventually get bored and let Jack go on his own. And besides, he was technically living with Piki right now. The current situation didn’t exactly match Jack’s prior romantic fantasies, admittedly, but this was a form of intimacy, wasn’t it? For a given definition of intimacy, at least?

Did Stockholm Syndrome work in reverse? Maybe Jack could talk Piki into having some movie nights together, while he was here. That would be nice.

Yes, this was a good plan. Jack could always think about longer-term solutions later. He was in no rush.

Jack went to go check the stack of books to see which ones Piki had picked out for him. He felt a rush of warmth when he saw that several of his favorite books were there, along with a smattering of works by some of his favored authors and a handful of books he’d had his eye on but never got around to reading. Piki had been paying attention to what Jack had been looking into at the bookstore, that was so sweet.

Jack picked up one of the new books, along with a blank notebook and a pen. He set the writing tools aside and settled back in the bed to start reading.

A careful knock on the door preceded Piki’s return a little over an hour later. He had changed into his street clothes and was holding a tray. “Jack? I brought you some food, if you’re hungry?”

Jack looked up from his book and smiled at Piki. He picked up the notebook and straightened up in bed, beckoning Piki over.

Piki seemed a bit surprised, but he set the tray down on the little table in the corner of the room and approached Jack. “What is it?”

Jack swung his legs over the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him. Piki gingerly sat down beside him, and Jack opened the notebook so they could both see it.

Thank you for rescuing me, Jack wrote.

“What? I mean, you’re welcome, but to be honest, I didn’t expect you to see this that way,” Piki replied.

I know you wouldn’t have done this without good reason.

Piki looked surprised, and a bit skeptical. “That’s… very understanding of you. Thank you. Is, is there anything that you need? Anything that would make this situation any more pleasant?”

Would you stay with me for a while? I’m feeling a little lonely.

“Yes, of course, if that’s what you’d like.”

Can you tell me about your work? I’m sure that having superpowers and running around with heroes and villains must lend itself to some interesting stories.

“Oh, you have no idea…”

It had only taken a few days before Jack had managed to persuade Piki into a movie night. It had been easy enough to get him to stay; the simplest way to watch a film would be with a laptop, and Piki couldn’t very well leave a laptop connected to the internet alone with Jack, or Jack might use it to contact the heroes or someone else who would complicate the current hostage situation.

So now the two of them were half-reclined on Jack’s bed, propped up with pillows and watching the scene playing out on the laptop balanced on Piki’s thighs.

“Ugh, this is absolute garbage. This man clearly cannot act worth a damn, and don’t even get me started on the hack job of stage direction that the director is managing. Everyone involved in this production should have been fired,” Piki groused.

Jack smiled and shifted a little bit closer, enough that their sides were pressed against each other and Jack’s hand was half-overlapped on Piki’s. “H-hey, Piki,” Jack murmured.

“Hmn?” Piki made a questioning noise and turned his head to look at Jack. Jack took the opportunity to curl his hand around the side of Piki’s jaw and lean forwards, bringing their faces closer together.

Piki’s eyelids fluttered closed, but snapped back open before Jack could kiss him. Piki jerked backwards, breaking any contact between them.

"No! No, this is wrong. This, this is Stockholm Syndrome, or… or you're so afraid of me that you think that letting me take what I want means that I might not hurt you any further," Piki said, looking sickened. He scrambled to snap the laptop shut and lurched off of the bed, away from Jack.

Jack was left staring at him, stunned.

Piki drew in a shaky breath and stared off somewhere past Jack into space. "This is going to taint everything we ever might have had. I…" Piki shook his head, wrapping his free arm around himself. “I'm sorry, Jack. I… Pitch will take care of you from now on."

Before Jack could say anything, Piki fled the room and shut the door behind him.

True to his word, the next time the door to Jack’s room opened, it was Pitch carrying the tray of food. “Here you go,” he said, plunking it carelessly on the table.

“P-P-Pitch?”

Pitch rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t need to shake in your boots.”

“I’m n-not scared. This i-is just the way I t-talk,” Jack stammered out, hating the way that his mouth stumbled over the few basic sentences.

“Ah. Well, nevermind then. What do you want?”

“P-Piki. He’s… L-Look, can I just write it d-down?” Jack asked.

“Fine,” Pitch sighed, walking over to Jack to read what he wrote down.

Piki’s sad, isn’t he?

“That’s a bit of an understatement. Moping and maudlin and distraught would be better words for it,” Pitch replied.

Would it be better if he was angry?

“I mean, he’d probably be marginally less insufferable then. Why?” Pitch asked.

Jack inhaled and braced for the loss of his career. Because I have something I probably ought to confess.

“What, do you have a boyfriend who’s a superhero or something?”

No. Jack wrote, then let the rime frost spiral down the length of his body, wrapping the identity of the Winter King around himself once more. Pitch gasped and stumbled backwards, breath misting in the air. By the time the transformation was complete, the shock had bled into anger.

“Oh, you absolute bastard,” Pitch snarled, before whirling around and flinging open the door. “Piki!”

“Pitch? What is it, is J-” Piki looked through the door and froze when he saw the Winter King. He broke out of it after a moment, stepping forward as shadows began to surge around his body. “What the hell did you do to Jack?!”

“He is Jack,” Pitch snapped.

“He- what? No, that’s not-”

“It is, Piki. It’s me. I’m sorry, I probably should have told you sooner,” Jack said.

Shock and hurt flashed over Piki’s face, before finally settling back on anger. “You… This has always just been some game to you, hasn’t it? Some hilarious joke, to toy with me? You must have been laughing so much at being able to trick me. Did you share the joke with your friends?” he spat.

“No. I really did, really do care about you. But I didn’t want you to see me as some helpless pathetic nobody. I wanted to impress you, and prove that I was actually worth something. But I didn’t go about it in the best way, I see that now. And maybe… maybe all you wanted was someone pathetic to look after. I don’t know. But that isn’t me,” Jack said, and sighed. “If you really want to fight, then I understand, but I don’t want to fight you, Piki.”

Piki growled, and seemed to struggle with himself. Pitch stepped up beside him, and Jack braced for an attack. Instead, Piki’s shoulders slumped and he stepped out of the doorway. “Just… go. I don’t want to have to look at you.”

Jack left.

When Jack got home, he set to packing up his things and preparing to move. It was only a matter of time before his identity hit the headlines, and then he would need to go somewhere else. Gotham was supposed to be nice this time of the year.

But it never came. No bounty hunters showed up at his apartment to try to collect, and nothing happened for days.

Finally, Jack received a note in his mailbox, one that had no stamp, though it did have a return address. It just said, We have a lot we need to talk about, I think.

#nightmare dork university #ndu #nightmare superdorks #stagefright #these two idiots #this is not the proper way to court someone #supervillain courting procedures are a bad idea #fic

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