#kidnapping fic

[theflowerrooms]

His Game • Spencer’s masterlist • main masterlist

Stockholm Syndrome

chapter 5 • back to chapter 4

chapter summary; testing each other, learning about your own trust. You’re developing some type of positive feeling toward Spencer, and he’s quick to prove to you just how much he appreciates it.

warnings: dark themes, smut, kidnapping, manipulative behaviour, dubcon, overstimulation, dacryphilia, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), unprotected sex, marking

wordcount: 4K

The room was dark when you woke up, hummed and stretched, arms covering the expanse of the bed. the opposite side of the bed wasn’t made, where Spencer had slept after the movies.

You basked in the bed that smelled like Spencer, smelled like your captor. You smiled and pressed your face into his pillow, it smelled even more like him. You remembered his lips on your lips, his hands on your waist.

A loud slam, the heavy door close outside. He’d gone. Your stomach dropped. You remembered him pistol-whipping you, remembered his thumb pressing into your wound.

  You scrambled out of bed, eyes brimming with tears. You hated to be alone, you wanted so badly for him to just stay. Tiptoeing to the bedroom door, you pulled it open, sighing loudly with relief when you saw him there.

  The understanding of the danger and severity of your situation was lost from you the second you locked eyes with him. Your chest burning with a pleasurable warmth and the tears in your eyes shifting into a comfortable glaze.

  "Good morning Angel." He greeted you, smile on his thin lips. He placed a takeout bag on the small island and you deduced that the sound of the door closing was him returning rather than leaving. You watched him pull food from the bag, fresh, straight from the diner you loved so much.

  You smiled sweetly and walked over to him, sitting at the island where he placed the food in front of you. You thanked him and he smiled wider at you.

  He stood behind you as you ate, moving your hair so it wouldn't rub against your skin as he pet it. One of his hands pet your hair and the other rested against your collarbone, encouraging you to lean back against his chest.

  It was so comfortable, warm and safe. It was terribly domestic, him loving on you while you ate food he got for you because he knew you loved it. It was enough to take away from the fact that you were being pet by your kidnapper, no idea where you were.

  When you finished, you leaned back against Spencer's chest completely. He hummed softly and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you and kissing the crown of your head. "I have to go."

  "What?" You pouted up at him before he'd even finished speaking and he pouted back at you, half mockingly.

  "I have to go, for work." He said shortly and you huffed. You really didn't want him to leave. You feel like you should be grateful that you get to be left alone, that Spencer would leave. But you dreaded it. Those five days he was gone drove you insane.

  Somewhere in the back of your mind also, you knew that if he wasn't there with you, you would have some clarity, you would be fully aware of how scared you should be, how dangerous Spencer is. You didn't want that clarity.

He grabbed a notebook and pen from his satchel and sat next to you. "You need more things to do when you're alone, I know that you'll get bored quickly, I imagine it was difficult while I was gone before." He spoke and you nodded.

With that you and Spencer curated a list of things he could bring back for you. Movies to watch, a sketchbook and drawing supplies, toys for Milo, cards, and a few other small things. You were grateful and looked forward to the new things. You were so lucky you figured. You saw so many kidnapping victims who were dirty and hurt, used, cold and hungry. But here you were, warm and clean, full from food you loved, writing up a list of things so you could have more fun. And the bruise Spencer gave you was almost entirely healed.

You started to feel sick, remembering the kidnapping victims you'd saved, the ones you hadn't saved. People just like you who'd been taken by people just like Spencer.

Spencer tapped your chin and you turned to look at him, the eye contact working wonders for your new anxiety. You didn't feel any resentment to him, no fear, you no longer felt sick. Still you felt more aware.

"Do you want me to bring any books for specific topics? So you can study? That could be fun." It was a very 'Spencer' thing, studying for fun. "You're interested in learning about entomology, right?" You nodded and he wrote it down. "What else?"

"Stockholm Syndrome." You rasped and the look Spencer gave you made your blood run cold.

"Do you think you are developing Stockholm syndrome?" You couldn't read his emotions at all. You heard excitement, remorse, guilt, disgust, hope.

"I don't know. Let me learn more about it and we'll find out." You had an attitude that hadn't been there since the first day you arrived.

"Are you developing Stockholm Syndrome?" He asked again, tense.

"When was the last time you went to see your mother?" You asked. You weren't concerned about his mother, you wanted to redirect him, bring up his mom so he would stop interrogating his victim.

And still, the look of guilt and sadness that took over his face made you regret it. His shoulders slumped and the corners of his mouth dipped down just slightly.

You frowned and timidly brought a hand to his face, holding his cheek gently and flinching when he leaned toward your touch. "I'm sorry Spencer." Your voice broke, you wanted to cry. You hated that you made him upset, you were terrified that he'd hurt you as punishment.

"It's alright angel." He put the list in his pocket and stood, you stood with him, following him to the door.

You pouted up at him, you still didn't really want him to leave. He smiled down at you and leaned down to kiss your forehead. You leaned up into his lips and he smiled against your skin. He proceeded to look over your face after that, gaze switching between your eyes and lips. He leaned down and kissed you. Deeper than last night, hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling you into him. You sighed against his lips and he pushed his tongue past your lips, kissing you until you whined softly and he pulled back.

"I'll see you tomorrow angel." A smile and then he left. You teared up as the door closed. Your heart pounded against your chest, syncing with the sound of each eight locks locking behind him.

You wished he'd come back. Wished he'd decide to just give up on work, throw away his life like he'd thrown away yours and come back and be with you.

Because quickly, you were all too aware again of how lonely, isolated and scared you were.

✽-

Were you developing Stockholm syndrome? For now you settled on no. Nobody who had Stockholm syndrome was consciously and blatantly aware of it. And you were sure that you couldn't possibly have Stockholm syndrome because you would have to be convinced that you were in love with Spencer, and you for sure were not.

You rested on the soft couch, curled up in a blanket. 9pm. You'd had a small nap way earlier and made yourself dinner, and now you sat comfortably, rewatching Scream, cup of warm tea in your hand.

It was the sex scene between Sidney and Billy playing before you, and it made you feel a way you hadn't before. Warmth in your stomach watching the way he touched her. You craved intimacy like that, you hated being alone like this. You wished Spencer would quit the BAU and stay with you full time. You shook your head at yourself. You wished the BAU would find you and bring you home, and then you wouldn't ever be alone, you could have intimacy from anyone, not Spencer.

Spencer. You watched Billy kiss Sidney, it made you think of the way Spencer kissed you, how he asked first, how he didn't kiss you before you were ready. You had been so lucky, Spencer was an incredible captor, so sweet to you.

You could hear footsteps, locks turning and your heart jumped in your chest. What if you'd been found? Unlikely, but maybe that door would open and Derek would be behind it, or Hotch, or even some ordinary police officer.

It wasn't, it was Spencer. And surprisingly you felt relief that it was him instead of someone coming to your rescue. You didn't even process your own thoughts before you placed your tea on the coffee table and raced over to Spencer, face buried into his chest and arms around his waist.

He chuckled lowly and held you close to himself, burying his face into the crown of your head and inhaling deeply. He pressed kisses to the part in your hair and hummed. "I missed you angel."

You just hummed in response, telling him you missed him too without verbally admitting it, which you weren't sure you could. He cupped your cheeks and lifted your face so he could look into your eyes.

He held eye contact with you for a lengthy moment. It was a strange gesture that you figured most people wouldn't understand, you hardly did. What you did understand was that Spencer struggled with eye contact, and still he pushed himself to make eye contact with you, for you.

He kissed your forehead, then between your eyebrows, leaving a trail of kisses down the bridge of your nose before he found your lips, kissing you deeply, tongue chasing yours.

You blushed and moved away from him when it got too much, stomach flipping and heart pounding, face sure to be deep red. You looked down at your feet and he held your chin, turning your face up to look at him.

"How was your day my angel?" He asked, hand gliding down your back to the hem of your shirt, his hand slid up under the fabric and he stroked your back softly.

"Good. Long." You sighed. I missed you. "I like it better when you're here." You whispered, as if anyone aside from Spencer and your cat would hear you. Your heart soared and the look your words brought to Spencer's face, brown eyes filled with appreciate and wonder.

"Everything is better when I'm with you angel. That's why I needed to take you here." He brushed your hair behind your ear with his free hand and you nodded in understanding, in agreement.

Spencer was a good man. And he'd gone through so much, if you made things better for him, he deserved to keep you.

You went through the bag of things Spencer brought with him to occupy you when he was away. More movies and some cards and art supplies. You placed the books on entomology and Stockholm Syndrome on a shelf. You wouldn't open the Stockholm Syndrome books you'd decided, you're smart, you're a profiler with the FBI, you would know if you had Stockholm Syndrome.

Now you sat on the floor, you and Milo playing with a wand Spencer had gotten him while the man put together a scratch post for the cat, wide smile on his face as he watched you.

You smiled and laughed watching Milo. That's how amazing Spencer was, he didn't need to bring Milo, didn't need to spend money on him, but he did, for you. You were so lucky.

You remembered how scared you were when you thought Spencer might have killed him. You remembered how guilty you felt that Spencer killed your neighbour, but you knew he wouldn't have done that if he hadn't needed to.

  'Derek does not matter anymore' You remembered him saying that, for the first time since he arrived from work, you felt uneasy. "Spencer?" You got his attention. "When we were fighting, you said Derek didn't matter anymore. Did- did you do something to him?" You didn't miss the way his eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. "I'm only asking 'cause he's like my brother. I don't love him like that- like the way you love me." Your voice shook, eyes brimming with tears.

  He took a moment to answer you, each passing second leading you to be more and more worried he had killed Derek. "No. Derek's fine, I didn't hurt him- I meant that he doesn't matter because all you need now is-is me, I brought you here and you're mine, I'm all that matters." He didn't raise his voice at you like you'd expected, he didn't seem very angry, more anxious.

  "You do matter Spencer." You reassured him, chewing on your lip and petting Milo. "I just was worried about him, I'm sorry." You looked down at your cat, purring in your lap, you didn't want Spencer to see the tears rolling down your face, but he did anyway.

  "I promise Derek's alright. He's worried about you, and he misses you. But you're perfectly fine right?" He sniffed and you nodded as he stood. "Alright angel, come here." He ordered and you listened, immediately going over to him. A small part of you worried he'd hurt you, a large part of you was thrilled when all he did was pull you into his arms. "You don't have to be sorry for how you feel angel, it's okay to worry about the people out there. Do you understand? No apologies." He spoke softly and you nodded. He kissed the top of your head and his lips turned in a smile. "It's getting late darling, let's head to bed.

✽-

  You looked at your clock, 4:12AM. The lights were off and you were comfy in your bed with Spencer asleep, arm thrown over your side, Milo sleeping soundly at your feet.

It was so cold, you huffed as you moved closer to Spencer, failing to get any extra warmth. You pushed his arm that was weighing you down and slid out of the bed, intending to get a blanket off of the couch to add to the pile of blankets on the bed. When you walked toward your open bedroom door, you immediately noticed it.

The door to the exit was wide open. You looked back at Spencer and Milo before you sped over to it. There was a wooden staircase that lead up to an open hatch, the star filled night sky behind it.

You looked back to your open bedroom door, you could see the shape of Spencer in your bed, still asleep. Your legs shook as you bounded up the stairs. Collapsing at the very top one, sitting down and heaving breaths of fresh air.

You reached an arm out and touched the damp grass, breathed in the chilly air, stared up at the stars and the moon that you had unknowingly missed so terribly.

It was a moment before it dawned on you that you could leave. You looked around, in the woods somewhere with no idea how to get home. Still it was a chance. You could put Milo in his carrier and leave. Find your way back to home, to Derek and the rest of your family.

You refused to reflect on the way you felt, the way you weighed your options, and the idea of leaving Spencer scared you more than the idea of staying with him.

You wiped the tears from your eyes as you closed the hatch and went back down the stairs. You rubbed at your warm cheeks after you closed to door to the exit. You chewed your lip as you rushed back into the bedroom, immediately climbing back into the bed with Spencer.

You held the blanket in fists as you pressed your back against Spencer’s chest with force, exhaling a sigh of relief when his arm snaked around your waist again.

“You could’ve left.” His voice startled you despite how quietly he whispered. You bit down on your lip and turned to face him, hiding your face against the column of his throat.

“I know.” Your voice shook and he held you close to him. “I didn’t want to… I really liked seeing the stars out there though. And- and the moon.” Spencer could feel your tears wetting his shirt and he kissed the top of your head before twisting so you lay flat on your back and he hovered over you.

“Thank you for staying.” He whispered, eyes glossy. He kissed you, a quick gentle peck before he stared into your eyes. Then his hand was on your throat, kissing you harder and deeper than he had before.

In a matter of seconds you were panting and keening toward him. His thigh slotted between yours and you hadn’t even noticed that you’d been rubbing yourself against his thigh until his hand moved from your throat to your hips, guiding you, swallowing the soft and needy whimpers that left your throat.

Lips fell from yours to your neck. “Thank you so much Angel. So good for me- gonna let me thank you?” His voice had a needy rasp that had you reeling, nodding your head as fast as you could. You felt him smile against the warm skin of your neck. “Words baby, let me hear that pretty voice.” And you gasped as he immediately began to suck on your pulse point.

“Yes, Spencer. Please.” You stumbled over each word that left your mouth, whining for him. He happily obliged, leaving kisses and hickeys down your neck until he got to your collarbone. He shuffled further down, pressing your shirt up to your chin. He groaned and wet his lips with his tongue.

“Pretty angel.” He rasped, hands gripping your sides roughly while he took a nipple in his mouth. He hummed around it and you moaned, you could feel his bulge growing beneath his pants. He left hickeys over your sternum, your stomach. And then he quickly pulled your pants and underwear down and off.

It startled you, but you were too needy to care. He hadn’t asked, but you were sure he’d stop if you asked him to.

His hands were warm on your thighs as he spread them, and you didn’t have time to be nervous or insecure before he was gliding his tongue through your folds and capturing your clit between his lips, moaning around it.

You moaned in return, legs shaking on either side of his head. Everything felt so intense. Because you hadn’t been touched like this in so long, because for such a long time since you got here, you’d only been touched at all by Spencer. You depended on him for intimacy and you yearned for his hands on you.

He moaned against you again and it shot vibrations and hot energy up your stomach and spine. He sucked your clit and shook his head from side to side, you couldn’t control your hips bucking up against Spencer’s mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind it one bit, he yearned for it.

A whine began to leave your kiss swollen lips, breaking half way and turning into a moan when Spencer inserted his index finger into your cunt. He didn’t go slow, but that didn’t matter. You were so wet and desperate, ready for him, that it just slid in with no resistance, your body took him in immediately, clenching desperately around his one finger.

Never would you verbally admit it, pressing back against his mouth and hand, not physically capable of getting any words out, you desperately wanted more. Another finger, for him to go faster. It didn’t seem you had to ask for anything because he already knew what you needed.

In one fluid motion, he added his middle finger alongside his first one, fucking them in and out of you at a faster pace. You were already overloaded on pleasure before he started flicking his tongue fast over your clit, simultaneously crooking his fingers upward and bullying your g-spot.

You were practically screaming. “Please, please, please… god… please-” your begging turned to incoherent rambling and that on its own turned Spencer on beyond belief, hips pressing his cock against the mattress for some relief.

Your whole body felt tense, freezing and hot at the same time. Your legs tried to close, push Spencer out but he held your left thigh down with his palm, keeping you in place. “Come on sweet Angel, you got it, cum for me.” He mumbled against your heat, voice heavy.

That’s all it took before the coil deep inside your stomach snapped and you screamed, hips shaking and legs locking behind Spencer’s head as you came.

All of your muscles seized up and relaxed repeatedly as came, and you hardly had any time to actually come down from your orgasm before Spencer was kissing you and you felt the tip of his cock pressing against your cunt- still raw from your orgasm.

“Spencer- ‘s too sensitive.” You whimpering, raising your head as much as you could to look at where you met below your waists. He was much bigger than you’d expected, intimidatingly so.

He didn’t seem to care how sensitive you were, listening to you let out a moan from both pain and pleasure as he fed inch after inch of himself into you.

“Been waiting for this for so long.” He groaned into your ear after letting his forehead drop to the pillow you rested on. “Thought about this every night for months and months. Needed it before I even met you, Derek showed us a picture of you and I knew. Knew I’d be deep inside you just like this someday.” He rambled, that was all the time he gave you before he thrusted in and out of you at an unexpectedly fast pace.

You were so sensitive, it felt too good, too much, overwhelming. Spencer moaned as your nails dug into his shoulders, it only made him fuck you faster. He kissed away each tear that fell down your flushed cheeks.

He knew he’d finish embarrassingly fast, he’d wanted nothing more than this for so long. He slid a hand down between you both, rubbing fast and tight circles over your pudgy, swollen and tender clit.

You screamed yet again, heels locking behind Spencer’s back unintentionally, pulling him closer to you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, broken whimpers and sentences without words rushing out of your mouth.

Only a few more thrusts from and you were cumming again. Hoarse whines of pleasure echoing off of the walls of your prison. The constant clenching of your walls around him triggered his orgasm. He bit down on the junction between your neck and shoulder to centre himself as his hips jerked and he came deep inside of you, painting your cervix.

For a while you stayed like that, Spencer hovering on top of you, hot breath on your neck, cock softening inside of you. It was relaxing, you needed this peaceful intimacy more than he did and he knew that, more than happy to give you everything you needed right now.

His chin dragged against yours as he lifted his head again. You moved forward and kissed him, the first kiss you’d initiated since he took you. His lips were soft, dented from his teeth, salty from the sweat and tears he kissed off of you.

He kissed you back, humming happily, smiling, which made you smile too. He pulled out, much to your dismay, grinning at the sad sound you made at the loss of his cock inside of you.

The second he was laying on his back you were turning and curling into him, he didn’t mind at all, beyond happy to hold you, coddle you and give you kisses over your damp hairline.

“Do you wanna shower now angel? Or would you rather to shower in the morning?” He asked you, sweet and sultry. You just shook your head, pressing your face against his bare chest.

“Don’t wanna shower yet, just want- I want you.” You sniffled, foggy and clingy, he grinned down at you.

“You’re always going to have me.”

@justanerd1 @the-sun-died-out @eddies-van86 @alfjorcitos @natashaashleymarvelromanoff @tuesday-yellowxx @niyahwhoreworld @wilcherwatchers @aesthetics-villa @no-soy-fer

[luviree]

his little princess (NSFW hyunjin x fem!reader ff)

warning this ff will include dark concepts such as noncon, dubcon, and kidnapping. minors do not interact. if you are uncomfortable with dark fiction, do not interact.

tags: 18+, hyunjin x fem!reader, smut, noncon/dubcon, kidnapping, bondage, reader is a virgin, reader tastes her own cum

a/n: first ff, ik it’s shit I was think about this for a while and had to get it off my chest, please ignore any errors

“Wake up, princess.” you saw a masculine figure standing over you, with a menacing smile. you tried to speak but there was a rag stuffed in your mouth. he took off your pants. “I’ve been waiting for this day for so long..” He lowered his body to the floor. “You belong to me now.” his choice of words made you very uncomfortable and feel vulnerable, you just wanted to go home. he grabbed a rope and tied your hands together, tight.

“Need anything, princess?” you nodded your head. “I’ll be right back.” as soon as he left the room, you mapped out your surroundings. you were in what seemed to be a master bedroom. there’s a window near the dresser. you guess you’re on the second floor because it’s taking him a while to come back. the room is very clean, but you cannot find something to assist you in breaking free from your restraints. your only hope is tugging at the rope bounding your wrists until it loosens. 

the man comes back with a glass of water. he finally removes the cloth from your mouth and you feel as a part of you has been restored. “who are you?” you look into his eyes. you’ve never seen him before. 

“my name is hyunjin, but it’s daddy to you.” you wondered why he’d want a random stranger who didn’t even know him to call him that. you finished drinking the water and you looked in hyunjin’s eyes for an explanation of why he kidnapped you. “oh, you’re probably wondering when I’ll let you go,” he smiled. “never. once I’m done having my fun with you, you won’t care about going home, princess.” what in the actual fuck, you thought. he stuffed the rag back in your mouth and got up. 

hyunjin hauled you over his shoulders and laid you on the bed. you were shaking with fear. “spread your legs.” you slowly started to spread your legs but he wasn’t satisfied with that. he grabbed your legs roughly and forced them apart. his aggressiveness made you even more scared. “Come on baby, daddy doesn’t like to be played around with.” he slid his hand into your panties and toyed around with your clit. you couldn’t control your arousal and you threw your head back. “Hm, you like that?” he pushed a finger into your pussy. it wasn’t long before you came all over his hand. he stuck his cum covered fingers in his mouth and tasted your liquids. “you’re sweet.” 

hyunjin took off your panties and threw them off to the side. you could see his very obvious erection. you really didn’t want to have sex with him, but your body didn’t agree with you, every slight touch made your body yearn for more. “are you ready for me? I’ll make sure your very first is the best you ever will have.” he unbuckled his belt and got rid of his pants and his boxers. he placed his tip at your entrance. he noticed how squeamish you got when he did. so he teased your overly sensitive pussy with his tip, making you twitch with pleasure. this continued for a while until he finally pushed his full length into your hole making you scream. 

hyunjin thrusted in and out of you like there was no tomorrow. he didn’t slow down nor show you any mercy. “ah- fuck, you feel so good.” you were drowning in pleasure, it felt way too good. “who owns you princess?” he took out the rag out of your mouth once again. 

“y-you do..” he sped up. 

“no that’s not right,” he looked at you, hair messy, mouth drooling. “who owns you?.” the feeling of his cock pumping inside you made it hard for you to even think.

“y-you do, d-daddy..” even after that, he didn’t slow down. you were close to orgasm when he pulled out. you looked at him confused. 

“baby, I want to see beg for it.” he smirked at you.

“p-please c-cock..” you mumbled out, now that he got you so worked up you wanted it so bad. he smiled and pushed himself back in. you couldn’t control your moans. which each thrust, orgasm became closer. before you could even open up your mouth to speak. hyunjin and you both came together . 

“shit, that felt good..” he pulled out, watching your cum spill out of your abused pussy. “don’t you want me to completely own you, make you mine?” you shook your head.

“n-no.. I can’t.” he grins at you. 

“then it’s time for round two.” he said while stroking your thigh.

[digitalbath1988]

Please read tags: you’ve been warned. (I wrote something that horrified me.)

Warnings: R*pe, Gore, Kidnapping, BDSM

[em-writes-stuff]

“Can you hear me?”

@febuwhump day 12

warnings: cursing, kidnapping

characters: caretaker, whumper, whumpee

270 words

---

“Whumpee!” Caretaker shouted, “Are you there?” 

They pushed through the crowd, bumping shoulders with anyone in their way. “Whumpee!” they stared out into the sea of people and called out again, “Whumpee, can you hear me?” 

With no response, Caretaker shoved past people, they ignored muttered  insults thrown their way and tried to find somewhere they could stand so they could look out into the crowd. 

They step onto the table and strain to look over everyone’s heads, they cried out, “Whumpee! Where’d you go?!” 

They searched the crowd for Whumpee’s face, but everyone staring at them was unfamiliar to them. Their phone rang in their pocket and they jumped off the table, narrowly avoiding stomping on someone’s feet. “Hello?”

Whoever was calling was hard to understand, they were in a crowd that muddled the audio. “Caretaker?” 

They gasped, “Whumpee? Where’d you go? I turned around and you were gone.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see her, I swear-” his voice cut off and a new voice took its place, “Hey Caretaker. Remember me?” 

Their blood ran cold, “Whumper?” 

“You do remember me. That’s good. I just need a little time without having to worry about you fucking anything up for me, then you can have your Whumpee back. Deal?” 

“Let him go.” 

She scoffed, “I just told you you’d get him back. Don’t worry, I fired Henchman; the worst thing that’ll happen to him is a little rope burn. I’ll have him back to you by morning. It’ll be like he never left.” 

The call disconnected and Caretaker stood in the middle of the crowd, letting everyone bump against him. 

[scarletslippers]

Kidnapping fic, please!

Kidnapping fic my beloved, yet currently neglected 😂 (last edited in JULY??) I pulled these as best I could from what I have so far!!

Writing WIP Game

The first line of the work.

“No, he’s alive. He is. That doesn’t make any sense. They kept him for a reason. The fire is a decoy, he’s alive. He negotiated my release! And the only reason they would have done that would be if they kept him alive. Otherwise, they would have killed us both. I kept my end of the deal!” 

The first line of your current chapter (or if it’s a one-shot, the first line of the tenth paragraph).

“Okay it’s okay, just sleep. Just sleep,” he whispers again, helping her settle her head on his lap. Her face is turned towards him, nose buried in a fold of his shirt. “Just sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

The last line you wrote

Her speech is met with stares of concern and pity, tears streaming down Rebecca’s face. It’s Nancy’s sob that breaks the silence as she stands from the table and flees. 

A line for a chapter/part you haven’t written yet.

“You know, if you wanted to actually teach me French, I wouldn’t object.”

“Ah, but then you would know all the sappy things I’m saying to you.”

other current WIPs are some season 4 set angst, neighbor cat fic, canon but established nace 1x14 or 2x12, or say anything… ask if you’re curious!!

[handcuffedbitch]

Agar main kidnap ho gayi toh kya karungi kyunki meri zindagi main koi Zade Meadows h hi nhi👍🏻

[kitsune024]

Encanto Fanfiction

I am the fire and I am the forest and I am the witness watching it by Shaylinne

It’s not about being safe, is it?” she asked, swirling the water around her fingers. “It’s about them feeling better about what they did to you. They didn’t take action when they should’ve, and now they’re trying to make up for lost time and not seeing how it’s suffocating you under their gentle caress.”

Bruno winced at her accuracy.

“I love my family,” he asserted.

She shrugged. “I didn’t say that you don’t.”

A few weeks after the rebuilding of Casita, Bruno’s abilities cause a stir in the Colombian underworld, and a fierce assassin to be sent to retrieve him at all costs. A man who can read the future sounds like the ticket to finally taking control, and it’s not one that they intend to miss out on. Regardless of the human cost.

Can Bruno make it back to his family, or is he going to have to rely on being rescued? Really, there's only one option.

Chapters 13/16

[moviegeek03]

Worst Kind of Hurt 1/5 (Tarlos fic)

7k || AO3

Summary: It had only been a week. A week without his mom. And, he was already grasping at whatever he could hold onto of hers. He couldn’t lose that connection. He couldn’t lose the last pieces of hers. But, he never expected to find one more final connection, the form of a man determined for revenge. When one of Gwyn’s old court cases comes back to haunt TK in the aftermath of her death, Carlos and the others will have to unravel the mystery and the past to save him.

It's finally time to start posting my contribution to the @911lsbb! I will be posting a chapter or two a day over the next couple days (five chapters in total) because I've been out of town for the last two weeks and am working on finalizing the final chapter. This fic was started shortly after Gwyn's death in the show, because I really wanted to explore TK handling that while also going through a possible kidnapping situation. The scenario and summary ultimately changed multiple times as the rest of the season went, and eventually became this. I want to thank @lire-casander, @marjansmarwani, @terramous, and @morganaspendragonss for reading and helping me plot out things during the time. It is much appreciate.

But, I especially want to thank the amazing artist who I was paired with! I couldn't have done it without Friday! All art belongs to Friday and I couldn't be happier with it! Thank you for being so patient with me while I worked on things and crafting such epic pieces! It's been a pleasure to work with you!!

The gray was back. The brief reprieve he’d felt on the plane was long gone. The adrenaline had gone just as quickly as it had hit. When he thought his dad was in danger. When he was. When they all were. When he had to save the other passenger. The sweet lady beside them.

Someone’s mom…

He’d gotten it together. He’d been able to save her. He’d been able to confess everything to his dad. Then to Carlos. He’d dealt with things better than he could have, better than he expected to.

But he just wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough…

“Babe?”

He felt a hand run through his hair. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been on the couch, but he hadn’t slept. He could definitely tell that much. He was on his side, curled in on him himself. He could also tell he hadn’t spoken in awhile given how rough his voice sounded as he spoke a soft, “Carlos?”

“Hey, TK.” The couch cushions near his head shifted as Carlos sat down beside him. His hand remained in his hair, running through the greasy strands as he spoke. “Feeling any better?”

TK shrugged before rolling over onto his back so that he could see Carlos more. He shifted slightly, letting his head rest on his boyfriend’s thighs as he looked up at him.

Carlos leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “No fever. Still nauseous?”

TK shrugged again.

“Babe…”

“I’m sorry,” TK quickly apologized.

Continued on AO3

[spacedace]

Yall someone on reddit made a list of reverse writing tropes as prompts and I'm losing my damn mind over them:

I want to write something for each and every one of these. I already have ideas for some of them holy shit I love these 🤣

[konigsblog]

If reader were to play into exactly what kidnapper Konig wanted, would he become softer at all?

tw: kidnapping. dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+

definitely :( all he wants from his beloved captive is for you to feel the same, for you to accept his care, to no longer struggle and fight against his devotion towards you.

instead of locking you down in the cold, dirty and terrifying basement, without human interaction, without the comfort of his strong arms, he'll instead keep you upstairs by his side, a collar around your neck, his burly and large body pressed against yours.

like i've mentioned before, kidnapper-könig wants you to be completely dependent on him. he doesn't enjoy seeing you capable of taking care of yourself, that's what he's here for, to take care of you, to worship you. you belong on the leash, but he will no longer keep you in the dog cage, or allow you to sleep in the puppy bed. you sleep beside him — as if you're equal to him: a human. despite this, he doesn't want you to get too confident and bold — you're still nothing but a plaything for könig to take care of.

he'll bathe you, wash your hair and kiss your forehead. he'll hold you, spoon-feed you. again, you're ordered to not speak unless spoken to. if he thinks you need something, he'll give it to you, you just keep that pretty mouth shut and obey him, yeah?

[theflowerrooms]

His Game • Ch. 4 • return to ch. 3 • Spencer’s masterlist

Purple Stars

Dark!Spencer Reid x Reader • a kidnapping fic

Chapter Warnings: Kidnapping, Abusive behaviour, possessive and manipulative behaviour, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of assault, mentions of murder

Chapter Summary: a daunting bruise, a lonesome week, a movie, and a kiss.

wordcount: 3.5k

  Your shoulders were cold, white blankets shrugged halfway off your body during your rest, you inched toward the warmth next to you, leaning back into it until the heat source wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back slightly. With a jolt, you sat up, staring at Spencer next to you as his arm fell limp from your body and he pushed his face further into the pillows, hair flopping over his face.

He was still wearing the clothes he returned in, fitted pants and a pale blue button up, it wasn't tucked in all the way and the top few buttons undone, tie thrown carelessly on the floor next to your shoes. You took notice of the fact that he slept above the covers rather than under them, with you, and something in you lightened at the respect of boundaries you weren't sure you could place.

  Then, you took notice of the fact that you were entirely naked, cold body littered in goosebumps. You were suddenly terribly grateful for Spencer sleeping above the covers with his work clothes on. You thanked him mentally but wouldn't thank him more.

You scooted off the bed, hissing quietly when the floor touched your feet. It was always colder in the mornings, or at least what felt like morning. You put on the slippers placed at the side of the bed you slept on most and stood clumsily. And grabbed a big gray t-shirt and blue pyjama shorts, hiding yourself in the slightly oversized clothes before you made your way across the room.

Quickly, your eyes found the desk in the corner of the room, found Spencer's belt, Spencer's gun. Your nose ached at the sight of it. You looked at Spencer. You looked back at the gun. No.

The bathroom door shut behind you louder than you wanted it to. You didn't want to wake Spencer up. A deep breath, pressing the back of your head to the door and listening carefully, no movement as far as you could tell.

It took a surprising amount of energy to move off the door and to the sink, your head kind of hurt, and from the puffy eyes above a giant dark purple welt on your face, you knew why. You brushed your teeth, you didn't feel like it, the taste of the toothpaste made you gag for reasons you didn't understand but didn't care enough to reflect on. You spat the toothpaste into the sink and left the faucet running to dip your head under and rinse out your mouth. The water was refreshing, clean, filtered.

You stood straight and stared yourself in the face. You didn't recognize yourself. Your eyes were swollen from a night of crying before you slept. Then there was the dark, daunting bruise that spanned from the arch of your left cheek to the bridge of your nose. The mark didn't look the way you expected it too, it was much larger and deeper than any contact wounds you'd seen inflicted by guns. You assumed that the lack of proper eating or any sunlight was responsible for your weak skin and body.

You sat on the counter, facing the mirror and looked at it closer. Bright swirls of purple, pink, and black right under your eye, the skin there a rougher texture than the rest from the physical trauma. The soft freckles that lived on your skin were differently coloured, a dark purple outlined by pinkish veins. It looked like a painting, like a midnight sky filled with an array of constellations and stars.

You covered the bruise as well as you could with your hand and stared into your other eye. Bloodshot and irritated, red skin and fat eyelids. Eyelashes stuck together at the end corner of your eye. You couldn't allow yourself to romanticize anything about this. There wasn't an alluring constellation, no stars to gaze at. Just a painful wound inflicted on you by your kidnapper.

You had to remind yourself, you're a victim. Spencer made you a victim. A victim of kidnapping, of drugging, of physical assault. You were sure the list would grow longer, you'd hardly been here long, 2-4 days you estimated. You'd ask Spencer when you found your voice.

You got off the counter and used the bathroom, washing your hands. Your stomach growling startled you, you needed to eat. You opened the bathroom door and startled at the sight of Spencer standing at the other side, staring.

  "It looks bad." His voice was weak, groggy with sleep and heavy with guilt. He cupped your face gently in his large hands and grazed his thumb over your bruised cheekbone. "Does it hurt bad? Need ice?"

  It took everything in you not to flinch away from his touch, everything in you not to give in and let him hold you. "No. It- it doesn't." He knew you were lying. You'd never been that good at lying, and Spencer was experienced with reading the victims as well as unsubs.

  His lips pressed to a line and his right hand stiffened against your skin, before he was digging his thumbprint into the tender injury that he put there. "No lying." He said. Suddenly you were yelping pathetically and throwing yourself into his chest to get away from his painful grip, to get the comfort you yearned for but didn't want to seek from him.

  His hand that once worsened the pain on your face laced itself in your hair, shielding you from the rest of the world as you smelt the scents of his  faded cologne, coffee, peppermint, and vanilla, his sweat, the faint smell of ink, and paper from being at work. "We'll get ice for your eye." He spoke quietly, emotions you couldn't read falling from his teeth and lips as he spoke.

  He dragged you slowly out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, to the main room and guided you to a love seat. "Spencer I need to eat." Your voice wavered, one hand coming up to cup your now-throbbing eye, the other hand meeting Milo as he jumped on the couch to sit with you.

  "Ice first my Angel." He nodded, small cubes of ice in a ziplock bag, and then a soft white cloth wrapped around it to protect your delicate skin that he wasn't worried about harming last night. "Here baby." He pressed it against your wound, you winced and let out a sigh of satisfaction at the same time, moving your hand over his to hold the ice yourself. The pet names he called you didn't necessarily surprise you, what did surprise you was your reaction- or your lack of a reaction.

  You sat with Milo, fingers threading through his soft fur as you listened to Spencer move around behind you. You felt detached from yourself and the world around you, and you didn't really want to look at Spencer because the sight of him grounded you, brought you back to the hollow uncertainty of your current reality.

  You jolted back into forefront consciousness when he placed a plate of peeled tangerines in front of you. You'd never been the biggest fan of tangerines, but right now as you are these ones, you could swear it was the best thing you've eaten ever. Fresh and cool, filled with tons of vitamins and nutrients that your body felt entirely lacking of.

  "How did you-" Spencer's uncertain voice spilled out of his mouth before he was interrupted by a beeping in his pocket. He pulled his phone out, looked at it, then you. He swallowed. "I have to leave. I'll be back soon my angel." The BAU, stealing him from you or saving you from him. You weren't sure. You hadn't been sure of anything for the past nights you've been in this cozy, unwilling isolation.

  He grabbed his gun, belt and shoes from the other room and you watched him leave quick, without a proper goodbye. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

*

  Three days. It felt like three days, you'd fallen asleep and woken up three separate times. You'd. taken four showers. Prepared yourself five meals with ingredients Spencer thankfully provided in the small kitchen. The third time you slept, it was on the love seat, eyes boring into the door, silently, embarrassingly, regretfully awaiting Spencer's return until you gave into exhaustion.

  You'd nearly died of boredom. You'd read so many books, you didn't mind too much in all actuality. You enjoyed reading but you got tired of it after what felt to be the second day. That's when you found a black ball point pen and started drawing over pages you'd already consumed with your eyes and mind. You'd draw stars, constellations and planets, galaxies inspired by your ugly purple eye.

  And now, you drew yellow daffodils and green moss, what would've been yellow and green if you'd been provided that shade- flowers inspired by the ugly green and yellow hues surrounding the still tender, but healing skin of your nose, eye and cheek.

  You sat on the floor at the coffee table. Scrambling to your feet when you heard Spencer return. You reminded yourself of how a pet would rush to the door when it's owner would return home. You didn't dwell on that too much when you were distracted with the overwhelming relief of Spencer opening the door and stepping through, making sure it locked behind him.

  He only looked at you for a moment before you you were striding over to him, arms wrapped around his waist and face pushed into his chest. He was more than happy to bring his arms around you, stroking your back with one hand and cradling the crown of your head with the other.

  "Let me get a look at you Angel." He gently guided your head away from his chest and grazed his thumb over your discoloured skin, you flinched just slightly but he didn't seem to take offence. "It looks much better." He was pleased, proud, and your heart ached.

  "It doesn't hurt much anymore either." You smiled timidly, one hand of your sliding under his palm on the side of your face to tap lightly on the bruise, proof.

  He smiled at that, and that smile was enough to flood you with serotonin and suddenly you were happy? You weren't even sure, you just knew you didn't feel awful.

  He glanced at the kitchen and then back at you. "Are you hungry?" He asked and you shook your head. He raised his eyebrows, appeared to not believe you and suddenly you were scared he wouldn't, scared of the repercussions that would follow if he deemed you untruthful again.

  You pressed yourself closer to him, would he still hit you if you were being sweet to him? "I- I ate already, made food and ate it, 'm not hungry Spence." You assured him, refused to make eye contact, staring only at the fabric of his light purple button down.

  "I believe you angel, relax, you haven't got to be scared here. You're safe here." He pet your hair softly and relief flooded you quicker than the fear had. So many emotions rushing in and out of you it made you dizzy. "There's no dishes?"

  You nodded against him, polyester blend scraping kindly against your cheek. "Yeah- I cleaned them all up." You said and spared a look at him, he smiled down at you and you felt your breath falter.

  "Really? Good job Angel, you're so good for me." He praised you and your cheeks burned. You were hanging onto every word. You giggled softly under your breath and leaned into him even more.

  You were afraid of how happy it made you that he was back, afraid of how being in his arms made you feel like you were breathing fresh air after nearly drowning. You dreaded the time he would inevitably have to leave again.

  You stepped back slightly, it wasn't fair to allow yourself solace in his arms. "You were gone for a very long time." You tilted your head and he tilted his in unison.

  "Five days" he nodded. Five? "Miss me?" He asked and you nearly said yes. Instead you stayed quiet. "I missed you an awful amount, each day. Thank you for hugging me." You nodded as he spoke. You felt a guilty pride in knowing that he missed you. You looked up at him and he stared at your lips.

  "Can I kiss you?" He asked. It hit you like cold water, not that he wanted to kiss you, rather that he asked you first. You almost naturally wanted to say yes, but you couldn't possibly. You reminded yourself again, you're a victim, kidnapping, drugging, assault.

  Now, with a twinge of fear of what would happen if you said no, you nodded your head. He clocked your apprehension immediately and he tsked. You braced yourself for whatever would happen next, another blow to your face, an unwanted kiss, you weren't sure.

  Moving his body an inch away from yours and petting your arm softly wasn't what you'd expected. "I'm not kissing you, not now. If I ever ask you that question again- or something similar, you'll say yes because you want to. Not because you think you have to or should. Not because you're afraid. Do you understand?" He was sincere, you nodded.

  Weight was lifted off of your shoulders and you nearly laughed at him. Consent was a funny thing to be respected by a homocidal kidnapper.

  You became alert to a soft clinking on the ground next to you and you both looked down to see Milo pawing at the strap of Spencer's satchel. You hadn't noticed he had it with him, and you didn't have time to ask what was in it before Spencer was picking up and bringing it over to the coffee table to show you it's contents.

  He first he pulled out a clock, it was simple, a gold framed tabletop clock, no alarm, it was pretty. You didn't care about those details though. You took the clock from him and sat down, staring at it in wonder. 7:12. It was 7:12. "Is it morning or evening?" You asked him and he answered.

  7:12pm. 7:13pm now.

  It was crazy how privileged you felt just to be able to see the time. You were so appreciative of Spencer for giving you the clock, he could've chosen not to, kept you disoriented and detached to the point that you relied on him even more. But he didn't, he gave you a clock for your sanity and well-being because that was more important to him than your dependence.

  "Thank you so much." You whispered, eyes drilling into the clock still as you watched the second hand tick until the minute one did too. 7:14pm. You smiled and looked up at him, he smiled too. You held the clock to your stomach and brought your feet up onto the love seat, one arm wrapped around the object like a child would with a stuffed bear.

  His hands reached into the bag again and he pulled out three dvds. Scream (1996), Scarface, and Carrie. Three movies he knew you loved and you felt your heart swell. "Movie night?" He asked, obviously you couldn’t read him completely, but he sounded slightly shy, afraid you’d say no.

“Absolutely, of course.” You got more comfortable on the love seat and he grinned so wide. You watched him walk into the bedroom for a few minutes before he came back out pushing a tv on a small wooden table with wheels, both in very good shape. You had no idea where that tv even came from, but you didn’t focus much on it.

You focused on Spencer as he plugged it in and set it up. On his hands as they moved and the soft muscles in his back and arms that shifted under his shirt. “What did you do? For the five days you were gone, I mean.” You asked.

He was quick to answer, honest as well. “Mostly they were looking for you, but then we went to Montana for a child abduction. We found him, he’s safe with his family.” You found yourself regretfully jealous of this child because he got to be with his family and you didn’t. But Spencer really wasn’t as bad as he could be.

You understood what it meant that they’d gone on another case. You were no longer the prioritized case. This was sad, but it also brought relief to you. Spencer was a genius, you didn’t want them to waste time looking for you when they could be saving other people, like that little boy today. You also knew that if you were the primary focus, and they got too close, Spencer would know faster than they did, and he’d interfere.

The sound of a phone ringing brought you out of your thoughts, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion until you realized that the phone in question was Casey Becker’s, the Ghostface killer on the other line. The beginning of the movie Scream was on the television.

Spencer tossed a blanket from the bedroom at you and you smiled softly at him, a silent thank you. You listened to him make popcorn as you watched the one of the first victims of the movie make her popcorn too.

When Spencer returned to the space you sat in, you shifted the blanket, moving it over, a silent offer for him to sit next to you which he immediately took up, popcorn on the table, one arm over the back of the seat behind your head, the other moving the blanket over himself before he rested his free arm over your side.

You didn’t mind the closeness, you hated being alone those past days, you were happy he was back. You didn’t remind the physical reminder, especially when it was soft and sweet.

You’d forgot how much you loved this movie in the time you’d seen it, it was almost like a comfort movie to you. Over time you shifted back into Spencer, and he happily allowed you until your back was pressed comfortably against his ribcage. He’d rest his chin on the top of your head as you both watched the movie.

It felt terribly domestic, watching a movie you loved while you snuggled and ate popcorn, with your kidnapper. But you currently weren’t thinking of him as your kidnapper, mostly just thinking of him as nothing but Spencer. Who you would’ve said yes to the second he asked you out had he done it under normal circumstances.

You felt sleepy, not because you were tired, rather because you were so comfortable. Warm but not hot, encased in his touch that you welcomed. You felt sleepy because it was the most comfortable and relaxed you’d been since you’d gotten there.

You sat up a bit more as the credits rolled. You craned your neck slightly to look at Spencer and he was already looking at you. A soft dewy look in his eyes as he looked over your face, gaze falling to your lips. It didn’t scare you this time.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, softer than when he’d asked earlier. He leaned back, putting distance between you and him so you wouldn’t feel at all pressured.

You thought it over. You tried to. Your head was clouded with intimate bliss and affection he provided you, the warmth of him next to you and the credits of a movie you loved playing next to you both.

“Yes.” No hesitation, no uncertainty.

He brought his hand to your face, caressing your cheek before he cupped your jaw, angling your head toward his. He scanned over your face again, looking for any signs of regret, discomfort, fear. He found none whatsoever so he guided you toward himself and ever so gently pressed his lips to yours.

He was radiating heat, warm breath and warm lips. His lips were soft and smooth while yours were chapped and torn from your teeth worrying down on them during the five lonely days. He pulled back just a second before he kissed you again.

This kiss was no deeper than the last, never crossing the barrier of just your lips pressed together. You kissed back more this time, and he revelled in it. Your lips against his was something he thought about constantly and now he finally had it.

He pulled back completely now, hand never leaving your face, stroking your jaw with his thumb. He looked at you so adoringly that your veins were thick with sweetness and warmth rather than the blood that was usually there.

You wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was beating, his fingers probably close enough to your pulse point. He kissed your forehead and stood up to go switch the movie. “Thank you angel.” His voice was warm and gravelly.

You chose not to reflect on how normal the name sounded falling from his lips. You didn’t want to reflect on the fact that it took you a second to recall what your real name actually was.

Chapter Five Here

Thank you so much for reading! I love writing for His Game so much omg

Taglist: @justanerd1 @the-sun-died-out @eddies-van86 @natashaashleymarvelromanoff @tuesday-yellowxx @niyahwhoreworld @wilcherwatchers @aesthetics-villa @no-soy-fer

[fangirl-dot-com]

🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss

*part of the reverse tropes series*

Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff? Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.

*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*

TAG LIST CLOSED

You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 

Key word being almost. 

You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 

Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 

“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 

Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 

“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 

“Finally.”

You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 

When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 

It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 

You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 

Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 

The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 

“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 

Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 

That was not a nice looking old lady. 

The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 

“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  

If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 

But you hadn’t noticed. 

“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 

The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 

“Is this your first time?” 

You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 

A grunt escaped his lips. 

“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 

“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 

The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 

“Just don’t miss the exit.” 

“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 

His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 

You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 

A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 

“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 

You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.

“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 

A click near your ear made you freeze. 

“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 

You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 

“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 

You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 

You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 

“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 

Your breathing started to grow ragged. 

“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 

You were now panicking. 

“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 

Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 

“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 

The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 

“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 

Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 

“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 

Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 

The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 

“Then . . . who has Max?” 

Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 

“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 

Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 

“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 

So much for customer service. 

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 

Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 

Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 

“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 

“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 

Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 

He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 

Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 

Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 

“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 

You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 

Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 

“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 

“Aha!” 

The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 

Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 

“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 

Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 

“I heard that!” 

The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 

“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 

“How far am I driving?” 

Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 

You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 

When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 

“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 

“We’re not done yet mister.” 

There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 

“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 

Your fully turned around to glare. 

“Yes.” 

You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 

“My cousin lives around here!” 

Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 

“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 

He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 

“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 

You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 

The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 

“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 

Your sprung in your place. 

“Lando!” 

“Max?” 

“Charles?”

Lando squinted at you. 

“Y/n?” 

A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 

“Lando?” 

The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 

“You kidnapped my friend?” 

“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”

“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 

Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 

“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  

uber_y/n has posted

uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤

liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others

bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭

uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW

max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje

uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)

max_v woman 🙄

land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐

uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀

sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber

uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?

max_v oh no

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[mrsdarkandyandere7]

No Way Out

Pairing: Dark Tangerine x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Escaping Tangerine was never an option.

WARNING: Implied Kidnapping.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

I dug this out of nowhere to feed to Tangerine fandom. Probably one of my lasts drafts about him :(

--

“Love…don’t you fuckin’ dare.” 

You swallow hard, fear building in your throat as Tangerine appears in the room, stiffly standing near the door. 

The gun threatens to slip from your sweaty grip and you increase the pressure, struggling to keep your hand steady despite the very obvious tremor.

It's not like you know how to use the revolver that you somehow managed to find in one of Tangerine's office drawers, but you thought you could use it to get out of this unwanted situation.

“Give me the keys and I won’t shoot.” your attempt to have an authoritative voice fails miserably, both you and Tangerine realizing your terrified state.

“Y/N, darlin’…” He takes a cautious step forward, approaching you and you sniff, terror flooding you.

“Please! Please, give me the keys…” you beg, taking a few steps behind until you bump into the kitchen aisle, trapped between the furniture and Tangerine.

You panic as he keeps moving forward in your direction. 

“Stop! Just stop moving or…. or I swear I’ll shoot.”  

“Listen, love, how about we talk this through’, yeah?” he raises his hands in the air, assuring that he wasn't going to try anything but you still keep the gun pointed at him.

“That’s a fully loaded gun, love, you can seriously hurt yourself with it and we don’t want that, do we?”

Tangerine takes another small step towards you as you shake your head, tears blurring your vision and your hand slightly lowers. 

“I just wanna go home.” you sob, shoulders shaking.

Your blurry eyes makes you miss the small step he takes towards you, his cheek twitching with anticipation. 

“I know, love, but this is your home now.” his voice is smooth and calm, placating you and you look at him, eyes begging him. 

“Please…”

“You’re not leavin’ this house, love, you know that.” his confidence scares you and he extends his hand, nodding towards the gun. “So why don’t you gimme' me that gun and I promise I won’t get mad, how ‘bout that?”

You don’t reply and Tangerine sighs. 

“Cause did ya know that the door also needs a finger print scan to open up, right?”

Your eyes dart towards the robust front door, already protected with several locks whose keys you still don't have.

Big mistake. 

By the time you realize that there is no scanner, it’s too late. Tangerine lunges forwards and next thing you know, you're pinned down between the counter and his body. 

You cry out as he expertly twists your wrist, taking the gun away from you, carelessly throwing it to the floor.

His anger is visible as he roughly turns you around, slamming you face down on the counter, pressing his lips to your ear. 

“Looks like you’re in a big fuckin’ trouble, love.” 

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Dani is hunted by the JL

So dani was traveling around the infinite realms and came across a universe that she and danny would LOVE

Their are super heros, and clones and wizards, and alians

Dani send danny the location of the universe with the caption:THE WORLD OF HEROS AND ALIANS WHICH WILL YOU MEET FIRST

Danny texted her back a voice massage of his screaming the word alians

.

.

.

So dani was exploring this new universe when she saw asshole.1 berating a teenager about how he's not fit for this life

The asshole.2 chimes in and AGREES with asshole.1, at this point the kid looks upset

and dani could understand teenagers in the superhero business is not the best(she asked) and sometimes tough love is what it takes so she was going to leave

Then she heard asshole.1 say" clones should just be terminated to save everyone problems like this"...

No...dani didnt hold back in teaching asshole.1 a lesson in clone rights via: trial by fist

.

.

.

But now 3 months later she decided to ask the assholes what they want and why they keep harassing her

She didnt expect a rant about how an unsupervised meta(and a clone asshole.1(whos name is superman WTF is super about him))

Then they all had a meeting about her IN front of her

The options ranged from finding her original to termination to imprisonment to forcing her to be a superhero

They eventually decided to make her a superhero in training...

These people are IDIOTS, if you dont trust her why put her WITH A TEAM, why not just let her leave, the most she did was get payback for the insensitive shit superman was saying but the sheer notion she was a clone was enough to FOECE her into a life she dosent want...

Oh hell no

So when the JL and clones in the background came up to tell her that they decided to give her a chance at "redemption"

She looked then in the eyes, smiled a too sharp smile said

:no

Then she screamed

PAPA

.

.

.

The next thing anyone knowes is the watchtower is in an unknown location with a person that looked scarily similar to the unknown clone

And then he said

WHY DO YOU HAVE MY DAUGHTER

[ghostbsuter]

A day of freedom, this was what danny smelled the moment he, alongside his new team (!!!) The Justice League, finished their most recent mission which involved aliens (!!!).

Until, on their way back home, a green (familiar) portal opened, hands grabbed and hauled him right through it.

Now this was, believe it or not, familiar and, and! He knew what to do.

What he didn't expect is Batman's hook to wind up around his middle, superman clinging on batman, wonder woman on superman, flash actually on his left leg and—

You get it. The entire team tm just went into the portal as well, cut contact to the tower and its absolute chaos!

What's he gonna do now??

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights where Phantom saves Duke or the Signal, and a week later (at a Wayne gala or some other place) Duke recognizes the light/aura coming from Danny

Putting off gala prep was perhaps not the best plan. Duke spent the past month insisting that everything is fine and he has it under control. Duke is also a lying liar who lies, and now he’s frantically trying to pick up his suit in time to get it dry cleaned and altered as necessary. 

Alfred would be disappointed in him, but in Duke’s defense, he had to go out of town on a mission to bust a growing drug cartel, and then spent half a week visiting a shelter for metas on the run (unofficial and hidden away) to help everyone find new homes and learn to control their powers. These things take time!

Unfortunately, gala prep also takes time, and since it’s a charity gala for funding the education of every Gothamite student, it’s not one he can slip out of. The entire family is being strong-armed into attending and not making a scene until the donation period in the first half is over. 

Duke knows he’s not the only one who’s scrambling to get ready for a gala that’s taking place in three days, but they’re not helping him, so it feels like he’s the only one messing up. 

“Sorry!” he calls behind him as he sprints through a group of people. 

He could have asked someone to drive him, but he knows they’re all busy and doesn’t want his own poor time management to cause problems for anyone else. Even though he’s sure Bruce is looking for an excuse to get out of a mandatory Wayne Enterprises board meeting that both Lucius and Tim dragged him to.

RIP Bruce. He will be missed.

The Diamond District is full of people walking the streets, sprinting between parked cars and waiting for their rides. They’re all dressed nicely, making him feel out of place. It’s a feeling that’s never left him since he joined the Waynes but it’s particularly bad when he’s left to navigate these spaces alone. Rich people and socialites are a different kind of human, one that Duke doesn’t care to understand; there’s greed in all of them, turning them heartless, and they can give as much as they want to charity but it won’t change the fact that all they do is a performance to make people like them, rather than a desire to do anything good. 

The sooner this is over, the better. He keeps going, hoping that he can still make it to his appointment with the tailor. Alfred recommended the store, then set up the appointment, so all Duke has to do is trust their judgment as they get him fitted. He’s still got twenty minutes until the scheduled time, but some unspoken rule makes it so he has to show up fifteen minutes early for better service or risk being turned away and told to reschedule. 

Duke slows to a walk when he catches sight of the store, the trying to catch his breath and look more composed before he reaches the door. He takes a moment to straighten his clothes a bit, then opens the door and steps in.

The bell jingles pleasantly above his head. The store is empty of any other customers, and the employee at the front counter looks up with a plastered on smile. 

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” she says, then looks down at her phone and types something out before placing it under the counter. A tablet comes out instead and she swipes through a few screens, then sets it down and look at Duke again. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I have an appointment? For a suit fitting. Under the name Thomas.”

She taps on the screen for a minute, then nods and gives him another customer service smile. “Alright, I’ll go ahead and grab the tailor. They’ll be out with your suit soon. Please, feel free to take a seat or browse some of our suits. We just recently got a new collection in from Italy.”

“Sure, thanks. I’ll just… be here, I guess.”

The employee takes her tablet and disappears through a door, leaving him alone in the store. He doesn’t want to sit down, not while his heart is still trying to settle from his sprint through half of Diamond District, so Duke wanders around the neat stacks of dress shirts and vests, pants and belts and shoes lined up neatly against the walls. 

He takes a moment to shoot Alfred a text that he’s at the tailor for his fitting appointment. Steph’s sent him a long string of videos online, and he’s just about to go through them when the bell rings again. 

Duke glances up and watches a guy walk into the store. He looks around, makes eye contact with Duke, then quickly looks down, taking a seat by the door.

Probably another upper class citizen uncomfortable with the fact that someone in jeans and a hoodie is shopping for suits. Shaking his head lightly, Duke wanders deeper into the store to get some distance between them so they could ignore each other more easily. It’s only until the tailor comes out, and then he can go to a fitting room and be done with this whole thing, so Duke resigns himself to suffering through the tense silence. 

How long is he even supposed to wait? He can only look at clothes in one of three colors before he gets bored. 

He goes to another rack, trying to see if he can notice anything different about these shirts. 

And then he hears a shoe scuff against the floor behind him. He tenses up, but before he can turn around, a belt is wound around his throat, pulling him back and choking him. 

Duke drops his weight, tucking his chin and gets a hand against the inside of the belt to try to push it away. His back hits someone’s chest and he’s trapped, focused on trying not to be choked to death while also keeping his vigilante abilities and meta powers secret. 

More footsteps come from behind, and a soaked cloth is pressed against his nose and mouth.

Chloroform, he realizes, familiar with the smell from Bruce’s training. But training isn’t enough to keep him from being knocked out, and he quickly slips away from the waking world, falling to the ground. 

Just before he passes out completely, he hears the employee who greeted him say, “I’m not sure how much Wayne would be willing to pay for him, but let’s start high and negotiate lower. New kid can’t possibly be worth that much…”

Duke wakes up groggily, memories of what happened quickly snapping into place. He’s too out of it still to get up, but he’s awake enough to be offended. Sure he’s the new kid, and barely even a Wayne, but he’s still worth a lot!

Kidnappers these days. So rude.

He doesn’t hear anyone around him, and it feels like he’s lying on a cold concrete floor. Basement, maybe? Warehouse? Storage unit tucked away somewhere? There’s nothing much to see when Duke is able to open his eyes, squinting bareilly at his surroundings. His arms are tied behind him, wrists bound, but they left his legs alone. 

If he could just hit the panic button on his bracelet…

Duke wiggles around, fighting through the lingering effects of Chloroform, and manages to sit up. If he strains his hearing, he thinks he can hear voices outside of the empty room he’s been left in. There’s a window high up, too high for a normal person to reach without help, but if he can use the shadows to travel through it, then he may be able to escape on his own. 

First things first: he needs to free his hands before anyone comes in to check on him.

They used zip ties on him, which is inconvenient. He’s learned how to get out of them, but it’s difficult enough without being drugged and having to do it behind his back. 

He’s feeling the zip ties bite into his wrists just as there’s a crash from outside the room. His kidnappers yell, alarmed, and are quickly silenced. That’s rarely ever a good sign. Duke renews his efforts to escape, ignore the pain in pushing against his binds like this. 

The door opens. Duke hears the small click of a lock disengaging and freezes. Then he gets to his feet, still unsteady, and prepares to ram his head into anyone who comes near him like some sort of deranged battering ram, or a drunk raging bull. 

Duke is ready for the worst: a gang hoping to steal away a Wayne hostage, a Rogue, Gnomon popping in to cause trouble for the sole purpose of getting on Duke’s nerve. 

He’s not expecting another teenage boy, who is literally glowing, to poke his head in and zero in on Duke. He blinks, then smiles; it’s friendly and sincere, nothing like the employee who helped kidnap him. 

“Hey!” he says, coming into the room properly. He’s floating a good foot off the ground, eyes a bright neon green, with white hair that sways as if he’s underwater. “Are you okay? I saw them drag you out of the back of the store and followed them, but I got a bit lost. Sorry for taking so long to get here.”

“...It’s fine?” Duke offers, trying to wrap his head around what’s happening. “I wasn’t expecting a rescue so soon, anyways. Think you can help me out here?”

“Yeah, of course!” he flies closer, then drops down to the ground behind Duke. He hums lightly under his breath, and then Duke feels a cold touch on his wrist and the zip ties are suddenly gone. 

Duke blinks, then brings his arms in front of him. He moves around a bit to make sure he’s not hallucination, and sure enough, he’s free and unbound because a random meta teenager vanished the zip ties into the ether, or something. 

“Thanks, man. Any idea where we are?”

“Not a clue. I got lost coming here, and I was following them. I don’t think you should trust any directions I give.”

“Fair enough,” Duke laughs. “I’m Duke, by the way.”

“Phantom.”

“Well, thanks for the save, Phantom. Can I treat you to something?”

“Like, coffee?”

“Sure. Or brunch, or ice cream. Whatever you want, really.”

Phantom considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. “Sorry, I would love to but going out in public looking like this,” he gestures to himself, “Is not a great idea. Thanks for the offer though. You got a ride?”

Duke pats his pockets, then sighs. “My phone’s gone. I still have my wallet, though.”

“I fly you to someplace you can call someone, if you’d like.”

“You sure? I could probably just walk out of here and call a taxi.”

“I don’t think walking around by yourself after being kidnapped is a great idea,” Phantom says, doubtfully. “Seriously, let me fly you.”

He should just hit the panic button and wait for someone to show up to get him. He shouldn’t go to some unknown location with a meta he literally just met. 

But, you know what? No one else can say they got kidnapped twice in one day, so Duke nods and says, “Sure, sweep me off my feet, Phantom. You gotta commit to this rescue.”

Phantom laughs. And then he does sweep Duke off his feet into a princess carry with a cheeky grin and flies them out the building, which turns out to be an abandoned apartment building slated for demolition. 

“Keep this up and you’ll be replacing Superman in no time,” Duke jokes.

“I think I could manage it,” Phantom replies thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m already prettier than him, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely. The glow really brings out your eyes.”

Phantom gets him a few blocks away when Duke recognizes where they are, and quickly directs him into Crime Alley. They land on top of one of Jason’s safe houses, and while he’s sure there’s enough security to take out a SWAT Team, that’s absolutely not going to stop him from breaking in to use one of Jason’s burner phones and eat his leftovers. 

He’s set down on his feet gently, and as soon as Phantom sees that he’s fine, able to walk and everything, he floats back up, just out of reach.

“Be careful, okay?” he says, getting ready to leave.

“I’ll do my best. Hey, are you gonna be in Gotham for a while, or…?”

Phantom gives him a tired smile. “Nah. I’m just passing through. As long as my luck doesn’t get even worse, then I should be out of here in a few days.”

“Shame,” Duke says, giving Phantom a very visible once over. He’s pretty tall, and Duke can see some muscle on him, and the tight black outfit really adds to his look. The glow that comes out of his chest makes him look ethereal and Duke is beyond glad that he got such a charming rescuer.

Phantom doesn’t blush like a normal person. He glows brighter instead, curling into himself a bit as he looks away, unable to stop the smile from growing on his face. 

“I guess,” he shrugs. “Are you really going to be alright from here?”

“Yeah, man, I have a friend who lives here. I’ll just bother him until he agrees to give me a ride.”

“Alright.” Phantom drifts away, glancing behind him before turning back to Duke. “I’ll get going then. Take care, Duke!”

Duke waves and watches as Phantom begins to fly away. Then Phantom… disappears? Or rather, his body does but Duke can see an orb of light making its way across Gotham, almost like a star fallen from the sky.

He stays on the roof until the light is long gone. When he’s finally ready to go in and steal from Jason, the sun has completely set. 

And he still doesn’t have his suit.

Duke sighs, and mentally prepares himself to other day of stressing out about the gala.

Three days of stress and last minute scrambling leave Duke in the Gotham Museum of Modern Art with Steph, Tim, Cass, and Damian. They’re hiding in the photography gallery to avoid other guests, taking a break from being polite and letting thinly veiled, passive aggressive insults slide over them.

.

.

.

“How much longer must we suffer this before we can go?” Damian grumbles, looking like he’s do anything to get his hands on a blade. Which, considering how many people tried to either pinch his cheeks are say some racist remark about him and his mother, is totally fair. Duke would just punch them, but sometimes a little drama helped get the message across. 

“At least two more hours,” Tim says, not bothering to look up from his phone. From what few glimpses of the screen Duke caught, he’s leading a Titans missions through text and clever hacking. Though it may be more accurate to call is a Young Justice mission since there’s no way any of this was authorized by a Justice League member. 

Also Anita, suited up as Empress, is there. If they aren’t on the news for property destruction and absolutely batshit wild shenanigans, Duke will have to check on Tim to make sure he’s not a pod person sent to infiltrate the family. 

“Think we can sneak out without anyone noticing?” Steph asks, looking at the emergency exit longingly.

Cass shakes her head and points to the door leading to the ballroom. When they look over, Dick makes very deliberate eye contact with them and give them a smile that looks stretched across his face.

Tim winces and pushes Duke. “Oh, something went down. Go take over for him and let Dick rest in here for a bit.”

“Man, why does it have to be me?” he grumbles even as he stands. Dick lets out a heavy breath and gives Duke a grateful smile, patting on the shoulder before shoving him out the door. 

As soon as he’s back into the main hallway, the music and chatter swell, no longer muffled by the thick walls of the photography wing. A few people come and go from the ballroom, no doubt looking for the restroom. 

Or more private places for… other things. Things they definitely shouldn’t be doing in an art museum.

He really can’t wait for this night to be over.

Duke joins the rest of the guests, fake smile on his face, and quickly makes his way to the snack table. He might as well make the most of his time stuck out here. Maybe he could even cause another relationship scandal by implying that Bruce is sleeping with one of partners when in hearing distance of a couple. Maybe even both of them. 

Bruce would go with it. It’s hilarious and he also needs something to make these events bearable.

Sadly, he doesn’t see any good targets as he scans the ballroom. A few people are dancing, while others are talking in small circles, closed off from outsiders. There’s an entire table of old ladies with glasses of wine in front of them; Duke considers hanging around them, since they confess to a lot of crimes after a few glasses. It’s fascinating. 

Also, he does kind of miss hanging out with the one old lady who’s declared herself his high society grandmother and told him stories of how she used to go to bars to find racist people or Klan members during the Jim Crow era, seduce them, then poison them and get their addresses so a few gangs she was friends with would fuck them up.

Granny Kaliasto is the coolest person ever. 

Just as he’s about to finish his last mini rolled crepe, Duke catches sight of one of the few teenagers still in the ballroom. The others, mostly stuck up rich kids no one actually likes, have already left to take over some other part of the museum to gossip until their parents decide it’s time to go home. These two are clearly not part of that crew, what with the girl being very goth and in a poofy, ripped dress, and the boy having already taken his jacket off to keep over his forearm, the top button of his shirt popped open.

They might be cool. He’s hoping they’re cool because he desperately needs some company to keep from dying of boredom while the gala continues on.

Duke walks over to them, going around the side of the ballroom, until he’s close enough to hear them talking.

The boy has his back to Duke, but the girl sees him. She immediately scowls and slaps the boys shoulder, eyes locked on Duke.

“Got another comment about my dress?” she says, voice sharp and acidic.

“Another?” Duke repeats. “I was just bored and wanted to talk to people who were my age. Sorry?”

The boy smacks the girl’s arm, then turns to face Duke. “Sorry about her! Sam is just naturally rude and aggressive. Tonight’s been a bit rough, with this crowd.”

Duke goes to say something, but the words stick in his throat when he sees the boy’s eyes shift from deep blue to an electric green. When he focuses, he can see a faint glow in his chest, the same glow he saw in Phantom.

“Dude? You alright?”

Sam looks him over judgmentally. “I guess it’s nice that I’m not being ogled for once, but don’t do that shit to Danny either.”

“Wait, that’s not what I was doing!” Duke hurries to say, snapped out of his shock. “I just… you look a lot like someone I met recently.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. What was your name? I’m Duke, by the way.”

He holds out a hand, and the boy shakes it with a small smile. “Danny. I don’t think we’ve met. I mean, I’m only here because Sam wouldn’t come to this gala without me, so her parents flew me in.”

“You from out of town?”

“Sam and I are from Illinois. Her parents are traveling around the east coast right now, and they decided to spend a week in Gotham to talk business.”

“I’d ask how it is, but outsiders tend to really hate Gotham, so…”

Sam barks out a sharp laugh. “Oh please, we can handle Gotham. Our town might not be as big and well known as Gotham, but we got our own shit to deal with there.”

“I do get shot at a lot back home,” Danny adds thoughtfully. “And that’s without the ghosts.”

“Woah, what?”

“Up for a bit of a story?” Danny asks, impish grin on his face. By his side, Sam brings a hand up to cover a manic smile, shoulders already shaking with laughter. 

This is already better than the grandma gang. Duke leans against the wall, getting settled in, and says, “Always, man. Hit me with it.”

The next hour an a half passes quickly with Sam and Danny dramatically narrating some of the things that have happened in their town. Duke listens, absolutely enraptured, and doesn’t even notice the Waynes file into the ballroom again. 

Unfortunately, they bring with them the attention of most of the ballroom, including Bruce and Sam’s parents. 

She cuts the current story about Box Ghost short with a heavy sigh. “Hold up, I need to greet the Waynes properly while my parents are watching.” She steps in front of Duke and Danny, holding out a hand with a pained smile.

Tim takes it first, giving a solid shake, and introductions start. 

Free from the rules of high society, if only for the moment, Duke leans closer to Danny and whispers to him, “Phantom. Wanna get out of here?”

Danny flinches and turns to him looking panicked. “How did you know?”

“I kinda got magic eyes. I see a lot of things normal humans can’t. Don’t worry about it. I still owe you, so you wanna get out of here?”

He watches as Danny glances around the ballroom, then back to him, clearly weighing out his options. Then he nods and says, “Know where to get a good milkshake around here?”

“Sure do.”

“I guess you’re the one rescuing me this time.”

“Not a rescue,” Duke corrects, and casually picks Danny up over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry, “A kidnapping.”

Danny laughs and waves Sam and all the others goodbye as Duke marches out of the ballroom.

“Don’t bother me for the next two hours!” he calls to the Waynes, “I’m going on a date!”

There are shocked gasps and murmurs all through the crowd. But as he spins around to wave at his shocked and easily amused family, he also catches sight of Granny Kaliasto raising her half full wine glass towards him.

She really is the coolest.

He’s definitely telling her all about this at the next event they attend together. It’ll be nice to have a few stories of his own to share.