Requested by  HeroesOfOlympus287

{Hostage!Reader}

***

It's been days since the castatropic event called "Weirdmageddon" has completely dominated the falls—buildings had been vandalized, demons now roamed the earth, and humans like yourself were captivated under the control of the inhumane Bill Cipher.

Except, of course, your fate was a little different than everyone else's.

Unlike finding your soul to be captivated behind cold pavement for the purpose of an agonizing throne, you were in fact still alive and breathing and surprisingly in decent condition, apart from the few bruises that remained on your arms, supposedly from the struggle of kidnapping.

You were quite in shock to find yourself in a relatively small room displaying rich and luxurious furnishing, which was only the prominent beneath the poor lighting and cracking fire pit. It was admittedly a nice room, though, doesn't make up for scandalous exploits that will soon be committed.

Your wrists and ankles were mounted down by a luminous chain, forbidding you to leave the leather chair. As you became conscious after what felt as though a dose of drugs, you began to struggle around in the chair's restrictions, suppressed groans escaping you.

"It's a useless attempt, darling. I'm never going to let you get away."

As the familiar voice rang in your ears, you jumped in sync with the increase of your pulse. Trembling breaths accompanied by a heaving chest, you completely paused before snapping your neck to catch a glimpse at the mischievous smirk the blond carried.

You haven't even heard the door linger a squeak, nor footsteps following about. Though, it might've been the cackling of chains that had you distracted from distant noises.

"B-Bill. . . why am I here? W-what are you going to do with me?" you couldn't help the vulnerability you carried in your voice, cracking with high pitched sound. Your eyes were wide in fear, pupils dilated where only a ring of color shown, and Bill quickly recognized this. He chuckle softly, yet reassuringly, and put his hands up in defense.

"Calm down, doll. I'm not going to hurt you. Why, you're too precious to be hurt." He ran his gloved hand across your face, caressing your cheek gently with his thumb. You forcefully turned your head away from his touch, furrowing your brows sternly. "Please, just tell me why I'm here if you don't plan on dissecting my body."

Another chuckle escaped the blond, more strained and accentuated, and he stood in a formal stance. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a king now, the ruler of your reality. I felt as though I would need someone to keep me company up here. Or to be more precise, a pet."

"A pet—wha—excuse me? Do I look like some fucking animal to you?"

"Hmm, well. . . your forms do vary, I can agree on that. Though you all need food and follow along the same life process, don't ya? There's no difference between you meatsacks, other than some aren't as noisy as the others." And picking up on the meaning behind his comment, you growled at him, only to feed his ego with the accomplishment of making you mad.

"Now, I promised my friends a show tonight. What about a performance from my pet herself? I heard you were a great dancer."

"I may take classes in choreography, yes. Alas, I don't perform for demons, especially ones that kidnap me and claim me as a pet," you spat with venom lacing, eyes narrowed at the singular golden eye. "Don't expect anything from me."

The once goofy and playful look fell away from the blond, into something more stern and serious, and the prominent change had left a bitter taste in your mouth, a thick swallow. "I never said you had a choice to deny my offer. You must perform, as I said I had promised my friends. I may not want to hurt my pet, but I'm not afraid to punish you if you're disobedient. You hear me out?"

And with that said, the blond was right at your throat, his breath tingling unto your skin. The look he had in his eye was something you've never seen before, something that screamed dominance and power. For once, you felt threatened in his presence, and slowly found yourself nodding as to his words.

***

Flashing lights shone upon you, stage board under your donned boots. A crowd of many entities stood before you, inhuman shaped figures of the rainbow, though the one you had your eye on was the blond sitting in the best seat in the house—his throne composed of human souls.

Standing here now, you've never felt so anxious to perform. It usually came naturally, years of experience in front of crowds, though it's a whole new encounter to perform in front of a bunch of interdimensional criminals.

Fluttering your eyes closed, a deep sigh of reassurance came about you. You ran your hands down your attire to clear it from wrinkles. Bill chose a small black dress for you, the back revealing skin with a cross forming, a giant bow centered perfectly in the middle. Your face had been dolled up with casual makeup, the kohl eyeliner and thick mascara being the prominent.

As the upbeat music faded in, the boisterous crowd quieted down, and all anxieties were forced aside as you set about your position. A few moments later, you were making your way through the stage with many rehearsed leaps and twirls, fluid motions keeping the attention drawn of your audience.

Though you initially stumbled a few times, which thankfully none of your audience had noticed due to the distractive lights flashing about and thick smoke clouding the atmosphere, you began to drown your fears as you swayed yourself into the thought of being back at your home auditorium, along with your recognizable crowd. With a smooth smirk playing at your lips, you performed with a newfound confidence.

A sway of your hips, hands running up and down your torso, and a smooth drop to the floor later, you were nearing the end of your performance and came to the final spin.

Though as you made your way into the air with sweat clinging hair to your temples, your head swirled around with fluid, and seemingly had you lost balance. Nothing but a flash took sight before you, the impact of the cold flooring meeting with your face.

Audible gasps were heard, alongside some negative feedback from the now rumbling crowd. You gradually lifted your head to face embarrassment, crimson flustering your cheeks with the biting of your lip. You overlooked the silhouettes of demons and met with a golden gaze, Bill's face remaining surprisingly neutral.

No scornful smile, no angry visage—just a straight up poker face, and it was honestly scaring the hell out of you. Who knows what he was thinking of doing to you now that you messed up his performance?

Fuck, this was bad.

After the red curtains called your conclusion, you headed through the crowd of demons with a limp, your eyes traced to the ground, avoiding the deprecating glances. By the time you were back in Bill's penthouse suite, he shut the door gradually, leaving the two alone as he faced back towards you.

You awkwardly stood with your arm clenching the other, makeup running from the humidity of your body. You slowly met with the gold eye, a sigh escaping your lips. "Look, I'm really sorry. . . I usually never stumble in my performances, I don't know what hap—"

"Don't apologize," he interrupted.

Looking back up with timid eyes, the taller form was suddenly standing before you. He rested his hand on the back of your head, and much to your surprise, pulled you into the warmth of his chest.

"You did a great job, regardless of your little slip up. And I must say, I'm very impressed with my pet's tricks. . ." he cooed into your ear, his fingers lovingly stroking through your disheveled hair.

A small smile fell unto your lips at his praise, ignoring the fact that he reckons you as a pet. He released you from his grasp, resting a hand on your shoulder. His gaze traced towards your legs, brows furrowing in a concern. "How's your ankle? It looked like you twisted it out there."

"I-It's a little sore, but I'll get over it. I'm used to it," you replied a little hesitant, still stunned by the fact that a demon was more concerned over your well-being than most people in your life. Or in specific terms, your ex-lover.

"Hmm. . ." Bill's eye narrowed in suspicion, forefinger tapping on his chin, as though he was reading directly through your mind. You stood uncomfortable for a moment under Bill's gaze, before a look of realization fell upon him. "No. I don't want my pet to feel any discomfort. You're coming with me."

Before any protests could be made, Bill swept you off your feet with a squeal of his name, holding you bridal-style. He walked you to his bed with a proud smirk, gently lying you down into the squeaky mattress. Gesturing for you to stay, he turned his back to slip off his tailcoat, throwing it over a velvet chair.

Eyes remained aware as he loosened his bowtie, and undone the first few buttons. He tossed his tophat aside with ease, before facing back to you with a playful wink. He slipped on the opposite side of you, torso pressing into your back, and masculine arms wrapping around you.

"B-Bill, what are you doing?" you asked with your heart clenching tightly in your chest, tingling heat overwhelming your cheeks, before meeting at your earlobes.

"Shhh. . ." he pressed his finger over your lip, before tracing it down to your collarbone. "Rest. You deserve it, my love."

And at that, you remained quiet—and in complete stun—in the demon's presence. You were reminded of the way your ex would verbally abuse you if you fucked up your performance, even in a single slip up he was quite harassing towards you. Though, the responce of affection was something completely unexpected, yet a whole new experience for you.

And the more you spent time with your demonic kidnapper, departing from the reality you once knew, and in an environment of love, you began to grow attached to your new life routine. It was far from healthy to find this to be okay, but the positive response you were receiving was better than anything you had ever dealt with in the past, and you were awfully relaxed with the actuality of being held hostage by Bill.

Stockholm Syndrome, they would call it.

Even though you've grown to your diagnosis, you knew it wouldn't last forever, for at some point your friends will find out that you're missing, taken captive by the Bill Cipher, and surely would they be on their way to come find you and bring you to safety—and back to sanity, that is.

And so as your routine fell as the norm, you were in Bill's room after another performance, and that proud smirk afterwards had never faltered. Genuine praise came from the blond, and you couldn't help but to flush at his repeating comments.

As Bill would always reward you after hard work, he sat down on the bed and rested you upon his lap, arms wrapped around the nape of his neck for support. He peppered feverish kisses all over your face and neck, each touch of lips leaving a burning sensation trailing on your skin. You released a husky laughter, and a few gasps in between, completely drunk on the blond's affection.

Though in the middle of your session, a thud of hurried footsteps was heard from beyond the door, and both attentions was drawn away from one another. Catching a glimpse of Bill's flushed face, he quirked his eyebrows and silenced himself, the only sound of his ragged breathing to be heard.

Shrugging, Bill told you to wait here as he checked outside the door. As his gloved hand made way to the golden knob, the door abruptly slammed opened, leaving Bill to instinctively hop back with a gasp.

The man of brunet had you immediately recognized in the entrance, someone you deemed as your dearest friend, alongside his twin sister at his side. An angered expression had transitioned into something much softer once he laid eyes on you, a gasp escaping him.

"(Y/N)!"

"D-Dipper," you whispered out, eyes widened with shock.

They finally found you after all this time. . .

After he shut his agaped mouth and swallowed dryly, he traced his gaze back over to Bill, brows knitting together and a fire raging in brown eyes. "You took my friend away! For this you shall die, demon!"

And with that being said, Dipper pulled out a metallic gun from his belt and pointed it towards the blond, wasting not a second of time to taser him to the ground and into the void of unconsciousness.

Dipper then ran up to him with a revervrating yell, a pitch you've never heard from him before, knife in his hand and ready to kill the man you've grown awfully in love with.

"Stop!"

In quick movements, you protectively stood over Bill's body with wide arms, Dipper's eyes widening in realization as he halted the knife before you.

"What are you doing, (Y/N)?"

"You can't just kill him. . ."

Dipper gave you a disbelieving look, glancing at the demon lying on the floor, then back at you with an agaped mouth and eyebrow quirked. "Why not? He practically took over the entire falls and put all our lives in jeopardy! Not to mention, he kidnapped my best friend. And by the look of it, he had you tied down."

Giving a glance backwards at the chair he initially restrained you in, the luminous chains dangling from the arms, you released a sigh and met back with brown eyes. "Perhaps he did in the beginning, but things changed. I fell in love with my kidnapper, Dipper. He honestly treated me better than my shitty ex ever did, and I'd prefer Bill over him any day. I know it's hard to believe, but I need you to not kill him. And in exchange, I'll take care of him myself."

Dipper pursed his lips at everything you had just said, a look of sympathy falling about his face. He knows of your ex, though trying to perceive Bill as something better was inconceivable. Mentally shaking his head, Dipper pushed other thoughts aside, and focused on what you last mentioned before releasing a sigh.

"What are you going to do, then?"

***

Bill awoke with black dots dancing around his vision, a drowsy grunt escaping him. He blinked a few times, a completely new environment surrounding him about. Furrowing his brows in confusion, he looked around the small room with frantic glances, a small bed in the corner and wooden dresser nearby.

And with wandering eyes, he glanced downwards only to notice the familiar cuffs wrapped over his wrists and ankles, bound to the leather chair he recognized as his own.

An attempt to break them off with magic didn't seem to work, and Bill moaned in irritation. Why in the hell was his powers not working?

Then the blond recalled, the memory of losing consciousness before the brunet had tasered him to the floor. After he passed out, the must've put a spell over him, destroying his magic and his works of magic, which is the only other possible way if he wasn't dead by now.

Gritting his teeth, he struggled to escape the grasp the cuffs remained on him, though to no avail. He released an exasperated sigh, gazing down at his boots, "What the fuck is going on?"

"Karma, my dear."

Bill quickly shot his head up to the familiar voice, meeting with your form standing before him. You were smiling devilishly at the restrained blond, and he couldn't help but to release a thunderous laugh. "You bad girl, I should've know you were up to this."

Walking closer to him, you bent down to his height, mimicking his anterior position. You ruffled up his blond hair, giggling at his disapproving expression, before pecking him with a teasing kiss on his soft lips.

Regardless of the pink tinge sustaining his cheeks, Bill cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow, slightly tilting his head in confusion. "I don't understand. . . Why did you spare me? I destroyed your world, not to mention I held you hostage to my own advantage. Don't you think a demon as myself deserved death?"

You pondered for a moment with a hum, before shrugging with a softer and calmer smile. "True, you did make shitty decisions. But. . . you gave me a whole new point of view of what love is. I've grown used to being verbally abused by my ex, and it was a shock to me when you reacted with something that not even a human being could show me. Even though you pretend to be an asshole, I believe somewhere deep down you're just another being searching for love, just like me. And I wouldn't just let you die, even after all of this."

Bill laughed at your words, though it was a entirely new sound for your ears, something that covered the embarrassed look he carried. Averting his eye to the floor, the closest thing you've seen the blond come to shy, he released a low chuckle under his breath, "You sound crazier than me, kiddo. Even so, telling me all this while you chained me up."

Your lips stretched across your face, a childish giggle escaping you at the remembrance of why you did such a thing to your lover. "Oh, that's right. . . I may love you, but I'm not letting you get away with kidnapping me."

Walking over to your dresser with a golden eye following intently, you dug through the top drawer and pulled out a pair of black, mid-thigh leather shorts. Turning back to Bill with a mischievous smirk and the wiggle of your eyebrows, you threw him the shorts from across the room, hitting his chest and landing in his lap. He glanced downwards with raised eyebrows, nevertheless an amused smile following about.

You grabbed it's matching tie, and swung it in your hand with a sassy walk, approaching the blond once more. You wrapped it around the nape of his neck, forcing him closer to where your noses weren't nearly an inch apart.

"Now it's your turn to perform for me, darling."