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imaginationmess · 4 years ago

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THE ITADORI TWINS (Sukuna Ryomen and Itadori Yuuji)

*reposted*

Ryomen Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori as Twins

Request: Au where sukuna and itadori are twins and what it’s like with them in jujutsu tech and all that chaotic shiz. I just love thinking about their sibling dynamics.

Author Note: I had a lot of fun writing this au. I have thought of it myself how it could be like. I hope you enjoy the headcanons!

Please excuse any grammar or spelling. I am going based on the anime and manga.

Warnings: Curse Words/Language from Sukuna who else

Word Count: 984

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Sukuna Itadori and Yuuji Itadori as brothers/twins

Sukuna is well-known as the bad/evil twin, the delinquent

who always gets into fights and the troublemaker in the family

Always has bruised knuckles, because he gets into fights on purpose.

He likes having adrenaline running through his veins

He is intelligent and has potential, but he rather sleeps during his classes and somehow passed his exams easily

His nickname through his reputation was Ryomen

As for Yuuji, he is known as the good twin due to his kindness and goodness in his heart

Is the one who gets his twin brother out of trouble

He always gets in the middle of his brothers fight to break it up

He loves his brother even though he is a pain in the ass.

He isn’t as smart as his brother. Sometimes he needs Sukuna to explain an assignment if he doesn’t get it.

Their only family member, the grandfather was always being called on to speak about Sukuna misbehaving in the younger days

He has tried to discipline him, but Sukuna just ignores him

Sukuna only listened to his grandmother who passed away when he was 11 years old

Sukuna finds his grandfather suspicious which makes Yuuji laugh because he was being ‘paranoid’ and weird

The boys had their jobs in multiple retail stores as models

They gotta eat and paying grandfathers bills

They were definitely known by their modeling careers

Sukuna was the one who found the job because he doesn’t want to work too hard, likes easy money (+PLUS FREE CLOTHES)

The twins always have their backs for each other

If Yuuji sees someone trying to jump into the fight to ambush Sukuna.

He will jump in to defense his brother despite not liking being dragging into Sukuna’s fights, but he will make an expectation

Yuuji hates unfair fights, but knows Sukuna can beat anyone’s asses without any doubt

Sukuna doesn’t like it when Yuuji butts his way into his fights, but does know Yuuji has good intentions

Appearance Changes

They both earn like scar that sort of looks like eyelids underneath their eyes

Sukuna earn tattoos all over his body when two were faced to fight a cursed spirit

They didn’t know anything about Jujutsu World

They were attacked by cursed spirit walking back home very late at night from a photoshoot

Sukuna thought it was just dirt to that weird blood of the cursed spirit until he stripped down to take a shower to see it didn't come off. He sort of accept this new look on his body

He looks pretty badass in his opinion

Yuuji was the only one who still looked the same, except for those scars underneath his eyes.

This experience make them to become closer to each other as brothers

They were actually fighting for their lives.

Jujutsu Tech

Gojo was the one who was sent out to exorcise the knocked out low level Cursed spirit and investigate.

Sending Megumi into their school to find out if he sees something unusual which was seeing Sukuna having similar tattoos as sorcerers have their own curse.

He already knew it due to investigating seeing the twins from their home window cooking dinner

When twins meet Gojo for the first time, they recruit them and teach them how to control their energy, because now they are gonna become targets.

Sukuna has the curse technique of cutting/slicing up cursed spirits and physical combat techniques

Yuuji only gain the physical combat cursed techniques, he is salty that his twin was able to cut spirits however he wants

Bold of you to assume Sukuna is gonna stay in the dorms at nighttime, he is party animal who gets invited to parties left and right

He brides on Yuuji to cover for him, but Yuuji sets curfew because after that he isn’t gonna cover for him.

They are a powerful duo who shook the Jujutsu Sorcery World while having relations to a famous 1,000 year old vengeful spirit, Sukuna. They look exactly like the reincarnation of that same spirit.

Siblings Dynamics

Yuuji is always using the “I am older than you by a minute" card when he claims to be in the right.

Sukuna always lies when asked who is the oldest one, claiming it was him.

Sukuna was the one who cooked deliciously good due to being taught by his grandmother who convinced him to focus his energy into something proactive instead of using his fist.

Yuuji can cook simple things, other than that he will burn it a little bit. Sukuna would throw a fit.

Sukuna is picky eater who doesn't like the taste of burn in his food

Sukuna and Yuuji do a lot of horseplay

Majorly of the time, its Sukuna who wins due to his experience of physical fights having Yuuji in chokehold on getting the television remote controller

Sometimes Yuuji is the one who has Sukuna arm pulled back when Sukuna was holding the remote controller hostage when his favorite horror movie is gonna play.

They love each other a lot and will always protect each other

Sukuna gets super protective over Yuuji because HE IS THE ONLY WHO CAN BULLY HIM! HE IS HIS TWIN! IT'S HIS BIRTHRIGHT!

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN BULLY HIM! YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” - ending up beating the boy who attempted to bully Yuuji

Sukuna slips the test answers to his twin when he knows Yuuji sucks at a subject

Sukuna is the brains of strategic attacks while Yuuji is the who throws the punches and bait

They are pain in the ass for each other, but they both agree the only one who is allowed can bully (playfully) each other, are themselves

Both of them will attack each other for the last slice of pizza or dessert

Rest in Peace who ever tries to date any of the two or both of them.

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Thank you for reading!

Feel free to send in your request :D,

Comments/Reactions are greatly appreciated!

MASTERLIST!

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un-beel-ievable · 4 years ago

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The Demon Brothers react to MC receiving unsolicited and objectifying comments.

Author’s note: Please do not repost!! If you like my writing, please leave a like and a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

_____

Lucifer ☕:

• It happens so quickly —mere seconds after you've finished speaking, in fact. There's a blinding flash of light, and the minute that it takes for your eyes to adjust to the effervescent glow causes you to miss the exact moment when two pairs of raven hued wings begin to unfurl from Lucifer's shoulder blades and lower back. By the time your vision returns, dark coloured horns have sprouted from the archdemon's locks. It appears that your recountment of the incident has pushed the brother who was usually the best at maintaining his composure past the point of controlling his temper.

• How dare they. How dare they direct such crude and obscene comments at anyone, and how dare they do so without the receiving party's consent. And of all the people to commit such an offence towards, how dare they demonstrate such behaviour towards the Morning Star's chosen one.

• Anyone who had the gall to show you such disrespect had best be ready to pay the price. Diavolo have mercy on their souls, because Lucifer certainly wasn't going to show them any.

Mammon 💳:

• Sympathetic. He's been in your shoes, after all. Modeling for Majolish means that he's received his fair share of unsolicited objectification from fans, especially when he rejects their advances. His usual tactic is to ignore such remarks —time was money, after all, and while those good-for-nothing may have had the time to waste on making unwanted comments, Mammon certainly didn't. Still, as much as the second born tried to act as he took such remarks in his stride, there were still times where these 'harmless' words bothered him greatly. So when you recount the events of the day to him in a quiet voice, the boisterous facade that he usually puts up fades and gives way to reveal the softer side of his personality. The one that he reserves only for you.

• "Just this once, 'kay? Not just any human gets to hug the GREAT Mammon...so don't be gettin' any ideas!"

• Becomes incredibly protective of you, even more so than usual. Any Denizen who is foolish enough to take a pass at you is going to have to deal with the consequences of their actions.

Leviathan 🎮:

• It's a rare occurrence for him to be on the receiving end of such comments himself, but he does watch an outrageous amount of voice actor panels. And in every single one there's always that one asshole who's making objectifying comments about the actors and throwing unsolicited remarks their way. It outraged him. Those voice actors put their heart and soul into creating quality content for their audiences, and this was how they were getting repaid? What made things worse was that some of these idiots not only thought that such actions were acceptable, but that they should be taken as compliments. How dimwitted did you have to have to be to make such an assumption? Even Mammon wasn't that dense.

• When he learns that his favourite voice actors weren't the only ones that were on the receiving end of such comments, he gets even angrier.

• If those assholes thought that they were going to get away with it scot free, they were mistaken. Even though everyone thought of him as just an useless otaku, Levi was still the Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy and the Avatar of Envy —one of the most powerful demons in all of the Devildom. No one, no one was messing with his player two.

Satan 📚:

• Has the most subdued initial reaction of all the brothers. He's quiet, too quiet; if you mistook his silence for being unfeeling towards your situation, no one would blame you. But the truth is your recountment of the events that had occurred had lit a spark of fury in him, one that quickly grew into an enraged inferno that blazed through his veins and consumed every fiber of his being —he's only being as quiet as he is because he's trying to restrain himself. He doesn't want to scare you.

• The imbeciles that had dared to make such degrading and unwanted comments towards you certainly were no where close to being in Satan's good books now. The Avatar of Wrath is sorely tempted to track down the disgusting creatures responsible for your discomfort and make them pay for their actions right there and then, but when he registers the expression you're wearing he decides that justice can wait just a little longer to be delivered. You needed him right now.

• Pulls you into a warm embrace and runs his palm soothingly down the length of your spine. If you're feeling up to entertaining his inquiries, he has two questions that need answering: who were they and where could he find them?

• The people foolish enough to make such remarks to you disappear without a trace the next day, never to be seen in any of the three realms again.

Asmodeus 💋:

• Asmo is no stranger to both making and receiving comments that are a little more sensual than the norm. Despite his instinctive need to flirt with everyone and everything that moves, however, he's the Avatar of Lust, not the Avatar of Disrespect. He knows where and when to draw a line with his remarks. If Asmo does go too far with his flirting, he takes it upon himself to back off immediately, take responsibility for his actions and/or words, and apologise. Taking the boundaries of others into consideration is incredibly important to him, and he doesn't tolerate anyone with the inability to treat others with basic decency and respect.

• Makes Lucifer give the two of you a day off; he wants to give you a day that's dedicated to you and solely you. The day's itinerary is left up to you. Asmo is willing to go along with whatever it is you feel like doing, be it staying home and watching DevilTube together or a night out on the town. What the both of you ultimately spend the day doing isn't important, Asmo's endgame is to demonstrate to you how you deserve to be treated.

Beelzebub 🍔:

• Stares at you with eyes round with disbelief. This pure cinnamon roll just cannot wrap his head around the idea of someone treating you in such a manner. You weren't an object to be toyed with, you were a person. A sentient being —no, an ethereal creature— with thoughts and feelings. Surely everyone knew that a human as special and irreplaceable as you had to be treated with the utmost respect; why would anyone say such things to you? To make matters worse, they didn't even apologise to you after learning that such words made you uncomfortable. What in Hell's Fire did they mean by asking you to "learn to take it as a compliment"? That wasn't a compliment in any of the three realms, that was harassment.

• The hailstorm of emotions that swirl in your eyes causes his heart to ache. Unsure of how else to comfort you, he offers you something that never fails to make him feel better —food. He brings you an abundance of your favourite snacks and desserts. And chocolate. Lots of chocolate. It's not much, but giving you food is the only thing that he can think of doing for you at the moment. He takes one of your hands in his as you tuck into the snacks that he's brought you and promises that no one will ever show you such disrespect ever again. Anyone who dared to would have to get through him first.

Belphegor 🛏:

• Perhaps you should have waited until Belphie had woken up from his afternoon nap before attempting to inform him of the events that had occurred, instead of trying to tell him before he dozed off. The Avatar of Sloth is incredibly drowsy and pretty out of it as he nods along to the sound of your voice, in a half hearted way that makes you wonder if he's even listening to you or if he's merely allowing your words to wash over him. When you've finished speaking, he pats your head gently and turns to his bed, more than ready for a trip to Dreamland. The second his head hits his pillow however, the words that you'd been trying to cram into his sleep addled mind suddenly hit him like a train. Well, he's certainly awake now.

• A wave of guilt washed over him. You had needed him then, and he wasn't there to shield you from those imbeciles. And you needed him now, but he was falling asleep before your eyes as you spoke.

• As an apology, he takes you into his arms and holds you against his chest in a warm embrace. He buries his face in your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear, reminding you that you were so much more than what those assholes made you out to be. That you weren't an object to be toyed with, you were a person...a human. His human.

#obey me #obey me game #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me headcanon #obey me shall we date headcanons #obey me reader insert #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #Obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #@un-beel-ievable #headcanons #reader insert

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joshslater · 5 years ago

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Werehick

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I don’t know when it actually started. I had been aware of time slipping for me occasionally. I might have thought it was Sunday and it turned out to be Monday, but I had shrugged them off as a result of stress. The alternative would have been some mental disorder, and you really don’t want to go there in your self diagnosing. It wasn’t until after the “break in” it started to become a regular occurrence. A serious one as well. Best I knew I woke up Saturday morning to a trashed apartment. Well, not totally trashed, but a few items broken, lots of things moved around, empty beer cans on the floor, some money missing.

I was shocked I managed to sleep through whatever had transpired in my apartment, and a little scared to what could have happened, what could have been done to me. Perhaps something had been done to me? Perhaps that was why I slept through it all. I couldn’t figure out any reason for it. Sneak into someones apartment, at great risk, tranquilize the sleeping resident, and then throw a party. Did they use sleep gas, like they do when they rob truckers sleeping at truck stops?

It was when I decided to call the cops I got the chills. The phone said it was Monday morning. The whole weekend gone! I decided the police had to wait, as I hurried to work. I got there enough on time to not be suspicious, but obviously I spent the entire day thinking of little else. As a creative writer at an ad agency my hours are flexible, and as long as I deliver in time and at quality no one cares, but it would still be weird to not show up at all. But I barely managed to do anything useful while there. I felt tired, mentally drain, and sore in my muscles, as if the adrenaline of the morning had a lingering effect. Above all, questions and thoughts kept popping up. Do I need to change locks? Are there now drugs stashed in my apartment? Did they do something else to me? Is that why I feel funny? Do I need to schedule a doctors appointment? What would I say that wouldn’t lock me up?

Cleaning up in the apartment took less time than I had feared, and once done I realized there was even less for the police to do. What was the crime? Where was the evidence? As the days passed, it was almost like it hadn’t happened. Oh, how wrong I was.

A couple of weeks later it happened again, only this time I woke up wearing someone else’s clothes. It smelled like sweat and auto repair shop even before I opened my eyes, and I practically jumped out of bed when I looked at myself. A worn under armour hoodie, filthy, threadbare jeans, and workers boots, splattered with caked mud. There was a light brown outline on the sheets where my body had rubbed dust into the fabric.

I could feel my heard pounding, as I ran through the rooms of my apartment to see if anyone was still there. Only later did I realize I didn’t have a plan for what to do if I had found someone. As before the place was a mess, but I sensed more things were missing.

I rushed into the bathroom and started to rip off the clothes. I smelled like someone else, I looked like someone else, and I hated it. I felt violated, somehow. This wasn’t just drawing a dick with a sharpie on someone drunk. I threw the hoodie on the floor. I tried to pull off the boots, heel against toe, but it didn’t work. I almost felt trapped that I couldn’t just throw off all the shit that was on me. I sat down on the toilet and frantically tried to untie the knots on the boots. It for sure took longer than if I had been calm. It didn’t help that I saw dirt under my finger nails. Once the first boot was off I reeled back from the smell of stale foot juice. Someone else’s warm boot smell, and on my foot, a thick, grey sock. I yanked it off, fast as I could, and did the same on the other foot.

Though the end was near, I just felt more and more trapped. The jeans had a belt with a belt buckle large as my hand. I undid it, and undid the buttons. The worst for last. Under the jeans I wore a jockstrap. Not any of the sexualized neon-pink ones from a pride parade. No, some disgusting, once white jockstrap with a few blue and red lines on the waist band. I got out of the jeans, and then as quickly as possible pulled off the jockstrap and thew it in the heap with the other shit.

My heart was still racing, the room smelled of feet and sweat and diesel, and my sight was transfixed on the pile of clothes on the floor. It took probably a minute to calm down. I looked in the mirror. There was a clear dirt line where the hoodie ended and my neck started. Determined I walk out of the bathroom to the kitchen to get a plastic bag. I needed to put all of the clothes away before I started to shower. I shuddered to imagine what damp air would to do them and the smell they would give off.

It started out brownish and took a while until the water running into the shower drain was clear. Only then did I start with soap. One full body pass with hard soap and one with some liquid soap. Then two thorough shampooings and finally one pass conditioner, something I rarely use. But I felt like I needed it this time.

I wasn’t at all surprised to find that it was again Monday, not Saturday, when I checked my smartphone. I made a deal with my project manager on Slack to work from home. I needed to vacuum and wet wipe the entire apartment to get the dirt out, figure out what was missing, and try to figure out what the hell was going on.

Assessing the damage I could immediately see that my hunch of things missing was true. A few art pieces were gone, and most of my formal clothes as well. It was just bizarre. The state of my apartment didn’t make sense either. It didn’t look like someone had thrown a party, but rather as if they had squatted there. Rifled through my stuff like a burglar, but also lounged around, dragging dirt all over my carpets and furniture. I was trying to think back to the last time it happened, what was different from then. This was like a serial killer story on CSI. They keep getting bolder and bolder after each kill, at least in the show. Did this guy, whoever he was, think his method was perfected enough that he could come and go as he wished. Even mock me by dressing me up. Who knows when he’ll...

I dropped everything and checked my phone calendar. This was the last weekend of the month, and last time it had happened was also the last weekend of the month. I flipped back through the month in the calendar, desperately trying to remember anything about the previous times I had lost track of time. For all the ones I could remember anything about, they had all been the last weekend of the month. So that was his pattern. How had I not seen that before? All I needed was some go pro or something. Motion activated, long battery time. I was doing some of my best work in a long time that afternoon. “Perhaps you should work from home more often” my project lead told me on slack.

It was such a roller coaster of a day, I reflected, as I took my second shower. Despite having thrown away the clothes, that smell of sweat lingered. Probably my imagination, but I had also spent several hours scrubbing floors, so my body was sore all over. I felt like I’ve had quite a workout, which probably was true. As I let the water wash over me I was thinking of all the different places to put cameras in the apartment. I wanted as few as possible, for cost reasons of course, but have as wide and good coverage as possible, yet be hard to find.

Something had not gone according to plan. I had purchased the cameras well in advance, tried them out, and checked the footage. All great. I had put limits on my credit cards. Made backups of my computer. Hid away some of the more valuable items. Everything was set when I went to bed. I was nervous, sure, but fully expected to wake up with the face of my tormentor recorded. At least I had expected to wake up at home.

This looked like a scrap yard, and my bed had been a bunch of cut up cardboard boxes. It took some minutes to get my bearings. My entire body felt stiff. I must have slept here, in the cold, on the hard surface all night, and I didn’t have much clothes on either. A tattered T-shirt, just as distressed jeans, and a pair of OK jogging shoes. I smelled like I hadn’t showered all week. Looking to my left I could see a camera on a rack of junk, looking back at me. It might even be one of the ones I bought and hid. So much for that attempt.

As I got up to get it, I something more than just soreness, and looked again at myself. Since when was I this ripped? My arms were way larger than when I went to sleep. My work is sitting with a lap top, writing almost the same thing over and over. I don’t have veins that pops. There is nothing that bulges when I bend my arms. Apparently I do now. Even without a mirror I could tell the rest of the body had changed just as much as well. What the hell is going on?

I stood up and walked a step to the camera. Everything felt wrong. My center of gravity was somehow off. My pose was different. My gait was different. It’s like my newly gotten muscles forced me to move differently, or they would rub against my body, stopping them. The small camera was recording, but I had no means to view it here, wherever I was. I stopped it, grabbed it and started to look for an exit.

After a few minutes of random turns in the heaps of trash I found a clearing and an open gate. An older man in a neat, but worn, blue coverall sat in a plastic chair, reading some papers and drinking coffee from a cup of out of place fancy china.

- Kyle! Here this early? I didn’t even know you were here.

Kyle? Who is this man mistaking me for? No time to figure that out. I have no idea where I am, what time it is, or how to get home, and I need to get there before anyone gets suspicious.

- The early bird. What time is it anyway? - It’s 5... 48.

I thanked him and exited. Once outside of the gates I started to recognize where I were. This was the industrial park south-west of the city. Lots of small and medium companies have lots there. The other kind of “lots”. God, and I’m a copywriter. It would be almost an hour walk to get home from here. I started to pat my pockets to see if I had any money or anything on me, and almost jumped and yelped.

I have a monster cock. It’s huge! You don’t just suddenly grow a large penis in your twenties. Certainly not while sleeping through a weekend. I just realized that perhaps I was wrong there too. It could be a year later for all I knew. I might not even have an apartment to come back to. I found my keys in my right front pocket and some wrinkled cash in my left.

I managed to find a bus stop at the outskirts of the park, with a bus passing every 30 minutes according to the posted schedule. I reckoned that even if I had just missed a bus, it would still be faster to wait for the next. Thankfully it was deserted. People would be travelling to their work at this hour, and most would come by car anyway. So I got to stand there and be self conscious all by myself. What a crude and obscene sight I must be, perhaps less so out here with literal blue collar workers, but at least pushing it. I couldn’t wait to incinerate these tattered clothes, and scrub myself an hour in the shower to get rid of this stench of man and machine parts. I just realized I would be on public transport in this state. Perhaps walking would be preferable after all.

At that moment the bus just rounded the bend in the distance. It would be weird to not take it now. The bus came to a stop just in front of me, and two hispanic looking men stepped off at the rear and I stepped on. I picked up my wad of cash and asked the driver how much for a single to town center.

- Travel card or travel app only.

I didn’t move, trying to come up with something to convince him to take me anyway. Pay him personally perhaps.

- Just take a seat.

The bus took a depressing sight seeing tour of our declining manufacturing industries before heading back into town. I can see from the time, date and temperature a gas station sign that it is just Monday two days later from when I went to sleep. Whatever had happened, happened during those 72 or so hours. My normally noisy mind was quiet. I couldn’t come up with any explanation for what was going on. Some 24 minutes later, according to the bus clock, I was reasonably close to home to walk.

Predictably my home was in a mess when I opened the door. On the floor were pieces of smashed surveillance cameras mixed with dried dirt, ripped papers, shredded clothes and other parts of my life smashed to bits. At least my laptop was unharmed, sitting on the living room table. I would have to deal with the rest of the apartment later, but my immediate concern was the camera I brought with me. I connected a USB cable between it and the laptop, and the vendor app started automatically.

The software showed the final frame of the video, with me pressing the off button at the junkyard. Fuck, I looked terrible, and almost unrecognizably different. I clicked at the start of the progress bar and the image switched to an interior view of my apartment, from what I thought had been a clever place in the bookcase to hide the camera. Into view walked me, in only underwear. Was I sleepwalking? What was this? The me in the video looked like how I remembered myself from this Friday, but he walked “looser”, for lack of a better term. He, I, looked furious.

- What the fuck is this shit? Yo spying on me now, fucking lib? Making your own fucking government spy program?

He was holding another camera in his hand, and threw it at the wall, showering the room with cheap, Chinese plastic shards.

- Just typical of you people, ain’t it? Can’t stay out of honest folks lives. I’ll fucking show you then. All this bullshit has to go. “Ooooo! Look at mee! I type on a compuuuter for living!”

He spat a large glob of spit somewhere on the floor off camera.

- I’ll butt into your life then. See how you like that? I’ll show you what a real fucking american looks like.

And he reached out to the camera and pressed the off button. It instantly cut to almost complete darkness. He could just barely make out the outline of a man moving, illuminated by the far distant sodium light. The camera then did cuts after cuts, as the motion detection turned on and off recording. As I fast forwarded It became apparent this was the camera setup recording me as I was sleeping on a stack of cardboard.

I didn’t even watch to the end, but just threw the laptop on the table and looked around in disbelief. “Schizophrenic” was all I could think. That was the only explanation that made sense. Somehow I was switching between me and this douchebag on a set schedule. Or was that imagined also? What about the body? Did I imagine that? Or did I imagine my old body and this was the real one? No, schizophrenic isn’t the word. What’s the real medical one... Multiple Personality Disorder! That’s the one! Fuck! I’ve been off my game all morning. Did my mind change too, and not just the body?

I picked through the devastation of my home. Almost all of my clothes were gone, replaced with distressed and dirty clothes that looked like it belonged to a teenager, mechanic and/or farmer. Most of it off brand, but some fox racing and carhartt stuff looked almost new. Where was all this shit coming from? This time I didn’t just dump everything in a trash bag, but tried to sort through the mess. If this really was a Dr. Jekyll and Kyle situation, perhaps it was best to keep as much of this shit as possible, or he would just drag in more. All of my broken stuff had to go though.

As I got rid of the last torn book pages and shredded tie, I realized that I didn’t actually miss all my stuff. I was more upset with how I lost it. I was just about to head out for lunch when I saw myself in the mirror. I’d spent all morning in that shitty T-shirt, jeans and shoes without thinking about changing. Suddenly I felt dirty again. Damn him!

This time the surprise was that there wasn’t any surprise. I stepped out of the shoes and found I had no socks on me, which felt icky to me. As I started to pull down my jeans I found I didn’t have any underwear either. I stopped at the knees and was transfixed with what I saw. My dick and balls where probably twice my old size. The legs looked stronger than before. I undressed the last part of the jeans just with my legs, and could clearly hear them rip further. Then I grabbed the T-shirt and pulled it off in one motion, and got a good whiff of really strong body odor. The upper body was something else. I had abs. I had pecs. Not huge ones, but well defined. My body had never looked this good before, and probably never would if it had been only up to me. I spent a really long time cleaning myself in the shower. How the fuck was this possible?

Andy was the first one to say something, perhaps even the first one to recognize me.

- Wow! What the hell happened here?! - Morning Andy. Just some workout that paid off. - Bulk payment? Well, you look great. I like the hipster look.

I had washed a pair of carhartt pants and a plaid shirt, brushed some boots clean, and managed to dress close to what one of our art directors looked like, but with muscles. As much as I hated all the crap in my apartment, it did fit my body, and it would take both time and money to replace it all, so I gathered I would use what I could. There was no hiding this body anyway.

It was a weird day in many ways. In one way it was like I was a new employee, with looks and outright stares from women, and a few guys, I didn’t know very well. Some people I had barely talked to before, mostly quite fit men, chatted with me to assess if I would fit in their social circle. And those I worked with the most couldn’t stop giving remarks about my body, some flattering, some jokes, many subtly envious, and several hurtful in the line of meathead and jockywriter.

I was obviously self conscious all the time. Even when I didn’t have eyes glued on me, or remarks woven into every dialogue, I could feel my body in a way I had never done before. I couldn’t sit the same as before. My legs were different. My junk was way different. My arms rubbed against my body in a new way. I felt restless as soon as I begun a task. And above all it felt like all my talent had left the building. I was not being very productive.

It pretty much dragged on like that. Perhaps less with the staring and the remarks, but certainly with my confidence and performance at an all time low. It was self reinforcing. The worse I performed the more certain I was that this was my new peak. As good as it gets. I didn’t bother to buy any new clothes. It felt pointless. At least I was always showing up with clean clothes. I kind of had to, because after a day they stunk.

After two weeks Jared, my boss, took me aside for a lunch meeting in his office. I knew things were going piss poor, and that I hadn’t been upfront with him about it. I made the decision to tell him everything I knew. The lost times, the “break ins”, the abduction to the junk yard, the sudden body changes, and my theory of multiple personality disorder, despite it not explaining everything.

He didn’t say a word while I spoke, and carefully consumed his Vietnamese BBQ baguette, making the appearance of almost not listening at all. Once my story was up to date with the last few days. He was just silently nodding and remained quiet for too many seconds.

- Can I meet him? - Who? - Kyle.

I was surprised. Somehow I hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. I could never meet him, of course, but someone else could.

- When’s the next full moon? - The what? - The next time Kyle emerge? - Last weekend of the month. Week and a half from now. - We are way behind on cataloging. Boring and non-creative work, I know, but... you know... - Yeah, I know. - Well, you shouldn’t have any problems lifting the boxes at least.

It felt weird having my boss doing an all nighter binging Netflix content in my living room, while I was going to bed in the bedroom, but he was adamant he wanted to do this. So I fell asleep and strangely nothing appeared to be different when I woke up.

I quickly got dressed, blue jeans and fox racing shirt, and found Jared sleeping in my living room. It was 6:41 Monday morning according to my phone. Had he been here the whole weekend? I had a look around in the apartment. Some things had moved around, but it looked neat and clean enough.

- Hey... Hey Jared.. - Mmmmm - Hey, what happened?

Jared made a big yawn and sat up in the couch.

- Mmm. We certainly had too much to drink. - We? - You don’t feel it? I guess Kyle was right. - Right about what? - Well, it’s certainly more than just a mental thing, but we already knew that. I think I may have brokered a truce. - A truce? - Just trust me on this one. Don’t go to a doctor or anything. Keep his stuff in the apartment somewhere. - And me? What do I get.

Jared had a wry smile. Why was he so stingy with details?

- You get to be the message lead for our Chrysler commercial. - WHAT?! That’s huge. Wait... Why are you giving it to me? If someone asked a few days ago I would have said for sure I would be fired very soon. - I think you’ll do great. I’ll think you’ll manage to craft exactly the right message for heartland consumers. I have it from a good source that you’ll be just the right blend of creative writer and redneck for the job.

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peachyteabuck · 5 years ago

Text

enemy of my enemy is my lover

summary: you planned on just going to a meeting with an adversary, hoping to gain more territory in the process. you left with something much, much better.

pairing: mobster!bucky barnes x mobster!reader

words: 3,226

trigger warnings: smut (oral - f recieving and vaginal sex), mob dynamics

notes/other: this was inspired by ask received by @bucky-plums-barnes a long, long time ago about a mobster!bucky headcanon that describes the plot to this fic. while i could not find the exact ask (trust me, i tried), i credit the anonymous genius & gen heavily for inspiring this. thank you both!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Each step you make is loud, sharp; the sound of heels clicking against the cold, cracked cement of New York City. It’s something, one of the things, that makes you powerful – sends this thick feeling of invulnerability through your veins, as if you’re some deity returning to her alter.

That feeling – one of untouchable power – has always been…sort of…hard for you to conjure. It’s not like you’re not not powerful in this world absent your fantasies. You run the second most powerful mob in the country! You’ve got a large pull in international trade! You’ve got major influence in congress and almost every state senate! You’ve got money, a smoking hot and super amazing boyfriend, and loyal coworkers. What else do you need?

Regardless of all that, roaming the streets at night never fails to send a special kind of shiver crawling across your skin. It’s a particular type of fear, one that makes you pull your steel grey coat closer to you as you roam the street, makes your hand cling tighter to the .45 in your deep, righthand pocket.

As you reach the alley where the deal you’re brokering is supposed to take place, your phone buzzes a few times in a row. You have an urge to check it, to make sure the man you love is okay, but letting your guard down now wouldn’t be wise. You’ve got to keep a keen mental sharpness about you to make sure no one kidnaps you (or worse) or fucks you over at your own deal, but still, the only person who would be texting you at this godforsaken hour is the man you left at home, and in this business you can never be too careful about the ones you care deeply about…

Your thoughts are interrupted (quite rudely, you might add), by the sound of a thick winter coat shuffling – as if someone were to be rolling their sleeves up. The noise of the fabric gets louder as the person – a man, you soon realize – steps closer. A man with sharp cheekbones and a dark beard and beautiful, pillowy lips.

His gaze, even under the dark baseball cap that lacks insignia, seems hauntingly familiar. You can’t place it, and it seems rude to ask if you’ve met before, given the circumstances. Still…something seems…recognizable about this mystery man.

You don’t realize it, though, until the man opens his mouth and asks about the new baby seal in the San Francisco zoo. It’s the right code, that’s not what throws you. Rather, it’s the gravely voice of the man you’ve been dating for years that stops you in your tracks.

“Bucky!?” you call out, completely confused and abandoning the correct coded response. “Why are you out here?”

Bucky, now meeting your eyes, seems just as bewildered as you are. “I, uh…I’m….what, what are you doing here?”

You have no idea how to respond, mind too baffled to form words. “Wh…what…”

You step closer, carefully – as if he was some rabid cat you found behind your apartment building. His beautiful baby blues are wide, eyes narrowed – you gasp when you get close enough to smell the cologne, his cologne, the exact scent you bought him for Christmas the year previous. “Are…are you…you’re…are you the White Wolf?”

Bucky visibly steps back at the mention of the street name – the street name of the guy who runs the mob that (similar to yours) is based in New York and works in black market goods. He tries to hide his shock, just in case what he thinks is happening definitely isn’t happening. In all honesty, Bucky can’t tell which one would be worse. “And, you’re uh. You’re…um…are you….are you She-Devil?”

If you were disoriented before, you have no word to describe how much your brain is short-circuiting at the thought that this man – the man you love, has secretly been running not only a mob, but a rival mob, this entire time.

“Do…wait,” you shake your head to try and collect your exceptionally scattered thoughts. “Are you the guy who wanted to negotiate territory with me?”

Bucky hesitates for a second, body tense and reluctant to say anything. You’re both still, not daring move a muscle and the both of you stare each other down. It feels like an eternity before he does anything, your surprise only growing as a massive, shit-eating grin spreads across his gorgeous, scruffy face.

It’s a look you know well, one you’ve come to both love and despise. It’s the same look he gave you when he told you he wanted to build (not pay someone else to build, build himself) a deck in a house you moved out of two months later, when he almost got a face tattoo, when he sold your house (you know, the one he wanted to build a deck for) to buy one three streets away. That’s the look he get when some grand idea that will probably turn out to be a disaster – the look that says “this may be a disaster, but the only way to see if it is will be to try it.”

In an instant, Bucky closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours. As he arms wrap around you, you can feel him rub at the small of your back, just as he always does when he’s trying to keep you calm. “Yeah, babygirl. That’s me. I’m the White Wolf.”

You press your face in the warm embrace of his coat, muffling your speech. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

Bucky shrugs as he answers. “Didn’t want you to feel unsafe, I guess. Didn’t want you to worry about me.” He presses a kid to the top of your head. “Better question, why didn’t you tell me?”

You sigh, your small voice becoming even tinier. “I dunno…same reasons as you, I guess. Felt like I’d be dragging you into something you wouldn’t want to deal with.”

Bucky barks a laugh into the night, the sound reverberating off the tall buildings. “Seems reasonable.”

You pull away but refuse to make eye contact as tears well in your eyes and cloud your vision. For a mob leader, you’re very emotional. “Baby, are you sure? Like, are you sure this is okay? I mean, we kept this major part of our lives from each for literal years…like, does that say something about us as a couple? And we’re, like, rivals, we’re supposed to be competing against each other for money and goods and ports and clients and-“

Bucky cuts into your anxious ramblings by pulling you back into a tight bug. “Hey, hey! Baby, listen. This is a good thing! A great one, if you want it to be!”

You wipe at your nose with your hand. “Are you…what do you, are you sure? What do you mean?”

Bucky nods, eyes ablaze with excitement for the future. “Of course, baby, listen. Separate, our mobs are both powerful, right? We can agree on that. But together? With the territory, the influence, us...together, we could rule the fucking world.”

Technically, he isn’t wrong; with your strategy and Bucky’s brutal execution, your combined business could easily become the apex predator of the mob scene within the Western hemisphere. What Bucky had, you lacked, and vice versa. You’d studied his…business…for years (before you knew it was Bucky who ran the Pack, of course) as you climbed the ranks of your own mob. You know they have hands in several international black markets, have relationships with lots of lots of rich people who do lots and lots of bad things and pay lots and lots of money for those bad things.

Oh God, you’d never think being power-hungry and love drunk could feel so good. Your mind fogs over with all the things you could do if you had Bucky and his gang by your side, you could do anything. Simply by territory you’d be outgunning Hydra, let alone the combined wealth and human capital. You’ve never felt this exhilarated before in your life, the freezing night air electrifying your rib cage and-

Bucky and you grin madly. Wordlessly, you clasp hands and walk back to your shared apartment halfway across town. Both of you are silent until you’re safely inside your secured home. As you pull your hair up into a messy ponytail, Bucky began grabbing bowls for dinner.

“You know-” he said as he ladled soup out of the deep red Crock Pot. “Now that we aren’t desperately trying to hide our occupations from each other, we can move into a bigger house?’ Bucky says it like a question, but you know better.

Normally you’d tell him “no, of course we can’t do that, we can’t afford it.” But now that you both know that you’re each hiding hundreds of millions of dollars in offshore accounts, slush funds, and dummy corporations throughout the world…

“Sure,” you shrug. “Why not.”

Bucky grins like a child on Christmas. “If we’re gonna rule, we need the proper palace.”

You forego giving into Bucky’s terrible, awful joke to hang up your studded coat, to take off your business casual navy-blue pants and black button-up in, and change into a pair of workout shorts and some tie-dye hoodie you thrifted about ten years ago. Bucky calls them your “thinking clothes,” attire you wear specifically to center yourself, to clear your mind of everything except the task at hand.

During dinner, you and Bucky begin to plan how you can consolidate assets, personnel, jobs, and everything that comes with heading mobs. It’s a long talk, one that lasts long into the night and ends with hastily-drawn diagrams and maps strewn around your living room.

It takes hours and way too many pots of coffee, but eventually the plan for the merger is laid out in front of you – all the graphs and math and official language handwritten in your neat cursive (along with a few notes scrawled by Bucky) on over twenty sheets of pristine printer paper.

Bucky sighs happily when he sees it all finished. He’s standing, desperate for a bird’s eye view of the entire thing.

You, on the other hand, are much too tired to stand. You settle for, “How does it look, babe?” as you draw two lines for each of your signatures below both of your full names.

When you look up, you see Bucky – eyes twinkling with joy. “It looks…,” he sighs, happily. “Amazing. I love you so much.”

You giggle, drawing lines for a few witnesses (you’ll make a few of your associates sign tomorrow). “I love you, too, babe. Now, you still got that champagne from our visit to France?”

Somewhere between the front room and the wine fridge, Bucky had you pinned against the wall and was cupping your clothed pussy.

“While I think you look great,” Bucky murmurs against the hot skin of your neck. “You’re wearing just a little too much for me.”

In an instant he tears the skimpy shorts from your body, the sound of ripping fabric making you moan;

“Fuck,” you gasp as one digit, then another enters you. “Holy shit that feels good.”

Bucky pulls away enough to look you in the eyes, smiling as he watches your jaw slacken from the pleasure. “Yeah? You like that?”

If you could speak you would, but each word just comes out as a breathy moans. Your first orgasm hits you like a wave, Bucky pulling it from you with crooked fingers and his lips on yours.

When you come down Bucky carries you to the bed, undressing himself as you do the same.

He pulls you to the end of the bed by your ankles, pushing your legs up to your chest. He enters you easily – bottoming out within a few thrusts.

You and Bucky moan into each other’s mouths as he fucks into you.

“Oh God,” he groans, moving to kiss at your neck. “Holy shit!”

He rubs at your clit with the thumb of one hand as he bites bruises in your collarbones, desperate to hear the symphony of sweet sighs and deep moans as you near another peak.

“Come on baby,” Bucky murmurs into your lips. “Come on, cum around my cock for me.”

It doesn’t take much after that – a few more circles around your clit in time with his thrusts and soon you’re scream and nearly tears the sheets from how tight you’re gripping them and your whole body convulses from pleasure.

Bucky finishes himself onto your stomach, head thrown back in pleasure as he does so.

He takes a minute to collect himself, still panting as he grabs a tissue to clean you off.

After water and a snack (two granola bars you had stuffed into your bedside drawer an unknowable amount of months ago), you curl into Bucky’s chest, tracing the litany of tattoos there. “Weren’t we supposed to drink to celebrate?”

Bucky lets out a full belly laugh. “Probably. But the alcohol is all the way downstairs. Plus, I know something else I can drink to celebrate?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Only you? Why don’t I get to get drunk?”

Bucky just smirks, moving you off of him. You’re about to protest but begin to understand once he pushes the covers off the both you to make room for himself between your legs.

“Trust me,” he tells you, leaving kisses on your skin between every few words. “You’ll love this a lot more than any old champagne.”

And, of course, he was right.

The next day, you meet with your closest adversaries. While you two wait in the conference room in the building Bucky took over after it was condemned a couple years back, you can feel your heart ram into your ribcage. It’s less from anxiety and more from anticipation, knowing you might face major backlash from the people you trust the most.

The first to arrive is the woman you trust the most in this world: Natasha. She doesn’t move towards the table, simply stands just inside the doorway while staring you down. She doesn’t recognize Bucky, but doesn’t enjoy being below the eyeline of a man she’s never seen before.

“Natasha,” you say, desperate to remain calm. “This is Bucky. We’ve been together for five years. And he’s the leader of the Pack.”

In a fashion much atypical for Natasha Romanoff, her eyes widen slightly. “Oh…” she says after a long while. “Okay then.”

She promptly sits down with no further questions.

As with many business, heads and second-in-commands of mobs rarely come face to face. They have goons, messengers that do their footwork. Descriptions of the faces belonging those in charge pass around akin to rumors, only whispered quieter.

Which is why, when Steve comes in, he has no idea what to think until Bucky introduces you and Natasha.

By the time Bucky’s finished talking, Steve’s beat red. “Buck, what the fuck is this.”

“Just,” Bucky sighs, worried about his phrasing and angering his best friend on the face of the planet (whether that be Steve, for reasons that feel obvious, or you, for reasons that feel even more obvious). “Sit down. We’ll explain-“

“’We’ll!’” Steve nearly screams.

Bucky is the only one who flinches at the sudden loud noise. You finish his sentence for him. “Yes. Bucky and I will explain.”

Steve doesn’t like it, doesn’t like taking orders from a rival. Still, he sits at the large, oval conference table opposite Natasha.

The last two people to come in are the head of you and Bucky’s legal departments. Wanda gives you a single nod before sitting next to Natasha, a man Bucky addresses as “Tony” sits next to Steve.

You exhale deeply once the metaphorical dust settles, encouraging Bucky to begin the spiel he had prepared last night been orgasms four and five.

“Alright. We have,” he sighs. “We have decided to combine our two…” Bucky struggles to find the right word. He worries for bugs and secret agents and misunderstandings, brain always struggling to remember that this is sacred, secret business. Any crack in any of the numerous protective facades could mean its downfall, along with the loss of billions of dollars and his life.

“Entrepreneurial endeavors,” you finish for him.

You hear Natasha snort, amused by the avoidance of saying gang and mob and illegal distributor of goods. The rest of your cohort are silent, unsure of what to say next.

Each beat of verbal inaction leaves you more fearful than the last, your heart getting louder and louder in your ears.

For what feels like forever, no one says anything.

Though, with the pounding of blood in your ears, they could be screaming obscenities at you and you wouldn’t be able to hear them.

The only thing that seems able to quiet the noise is Bucky’s fingers intertwining with yours.

Only then do you hear Wanda speak, her accent tinging each word. It’s comforting, to hear something so familiar.

“I assume you both have drawn up something that,” she eyes the man across from her with a look dusted with disdain. “Tony and I can look at.”

Bucky slides the thick document, held together in a beat-up binder you found under a bookshelf, across the table. Wanda is the one who stops it and looks into it first.

She says nothing, holding her tongue as she allows Tony to eye the document. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and pushes them to the corner of his nose as thumbs through it, looking bored and tired.

“Yeah, this shit looks good,” Tony says quickly, shoving the dark glasses back over his eyes. “Can we leave now?”

The resounding silence continues until you break it yourself, attempting to detail for Steve and Natasha what it all means. They listen diligently and sign where needed, Natasha being decided on as the most likely to type it up into an official document and send it to the necessary parties.

Once it’s all over, you and Bucky ride down in the big, glass elevator together – excitement electric in the air.

“How’re you feeling?” Bucky asks. It doesn’t seem to be out of concern, even if tears of happiness are pricking at your eyes.

“God,” you tell him, voice breathy and ecstatic. “I don’t even know how to describe it. I just, I don’t know. I’ve been so terrified I’d have to hide this forever – or that you’d find out, or that someone would figure out who you were. And now…I just,” you wipe at your eyes, and Bucky pulls you into his chest. “I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I know you’re protected. And I don’t have to hide this from you. And I’m so fucking happy about it.”

Bucky kisses the top of your head, tucking you under his chin. “Oh, baby. Darling I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.”

The two of you stand in silence, holding each other until you have to exit. Neither of you say anything until you’re both in the car, safely on your way back to your shared home.

“We’re in this together right?” you ask, looking at Bucky as he keeps his dark eyes on the road.

Regardless he smiles, moving his right hand from the wheel to rest on your knee. “Always, baby. Always.”

#mobster!bucky barnes #mobster bucky barnes au #winter solider #bucky barnes x reader #mobster bucky barnes x reader #lukis writes things #fun fact this drafts is almost 2 years old #and i kinda hate it but listen its done and its on the internet now

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duhragonball · 4 years ago

Text

‘21

Amidst all the popular hype for seeing the end of 2020, it didn’t hit me until about lunchtime what the real highlight is that I’ve been waiting for: For the first time since 1999, the year finally ends in “numberty-number” again. It low-key irritated me that we had to call it “two thousand three” and I was relieved when “twenty-thirteen” caught on, but it still wasn’t right because it was too short, and now we’re back in the sweet spot, and I should be safely dead by 2100, so that’s one less thing I gotta deal with.

Really, even “numberty hundred” rings true to me. “Nineteen hundred” sounds like a year. “Twenty-one-oh-six” sounds like a futur-y year, which is even cooler. So did “Two thousand five”, until I was actually living in it, and it sounds even worse now that it was a long time ago and adults will talk about their childhood happening in that year. Daniel Witwicky would be old enough to get married and grow a fancier beard than me. That’s nuts. My point is that, honestly, it’s the year 3000-3019 that I have to worry about, so if I ever decide to go vampire, those will be the years I hide in the ocean or force society to reset the calendar, whichever’s easier.

I spent New Year’s Eve finishing Superliminal, which I bought on Steam after I watched Vegeta play it on YouTube. It has a similar look and feel to the Stanley Parable, so if you liked one you’d probably enjoy the other, although Superliminal has a different theme. I kept hoping I’d find some secret passage that I wasn’t supposed to take, and a narrator would scold me for finding the “Chickenbutt Ending”, but it doesn’t work that way. Superliminal’s all about puzzles and awesome visuals, but it does have the same soothing design aesthetics as TSP. Honestly, I enjoyed just wandering around in Stanley’s office, and Superliminal does the same thing with a hotel and several other settings. It’s nice.

This got me thinking about how I kind of did everything there was to do in The Stanley Parable, and I sort of wished they would add new stuff to the game, but I’m not sure there would be much point to that. I could play the older version, but it presents the same message, just with different assets. The Boss’s Office would look different, but it’d be the same game. And this got me thinking about various “secret chapters” in pop culture. Secrets behind the cut.

I first heard about this idea in the 2000′s, when fans invented this notion that there was a secret chapter of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I read a website that tried to explain the concept, and of course it lauded J.K. Rowling with all this gushing praise for working an Easter egg into the book, a literary work of “well, magic.”

That pretty well sums up my distaste for Harry Potter, by the way. These days, JKR has thoroughly crapped all over her reputation and legacy, but in the 2000′s it felt like half the planet was in a mad rush to canonize her as a writing goddess, to the point where fans were congratulating her for writing secret chapters that didn’t actually exist. The idea was based on lore from the books about Neville Longbottom’s parents. They were patients in a mental hospital, and he’d go to visit them, and they would give him bubble gum wrappers, intended to demonstrate how far remove they’ve become from reality. The secret chapter lies in those wrappers, which all read “Droobles Best Blowing Gum” or some such. What if Neville’s parents were only pretending to be mentally ill, so as to throw off their enemies? Naturally, they would want to stay in contact with their son, so the bubble gum wrappers would have to contain coded messages. Said code involves unscrambling the letters on the wrappers to make new words, like “goblin” or “sword” or “Muggle” or “Dumbledore”. The problem is that you can also use it to make other words like “booger” or “drool” or “booobbiess.” Play with it enough, and you can make the code say anything you want it to say, which means it’s no code at all.

But the idea was that the not-yet-published sixth HP book would reveal all of this gum wrapper nonsense, and Neville would decode the messages and discover all of his parents’ super-cool adventures. I’m not sure why we needed a secret chapter if Book 6 was going to explain all of this anyway in several not-secret chapters, but that was the whole point. Fans didn’t have Book 6 yet, and they were so desperate to read it that they started trying to extrapolate what would happen next based on “clues” from the previous five. That’s like trying to figure out what Majin Buu looks like by watching the Androids Saga. I guess some wiseguy would have guessed that he’d resemble #19, but that’d just be blind luck.

And when you get down to it, this whole secret chapter business is really just a conspiracy. This is literally how Qanon works. Some anonymous jackass posted vague “hints” on an imageboard, and people went goofy trying to interpret them and figure out what would happen in the future. They call it “research” because they spend a ton of time on this, but there’s no basis to any of it. It took me a few minutes to figure out that you can spell “Muggle” with the words in “Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum”, but that’s not research and it doesn’t prove anything. But all these guys keep looking for “Hilary Clinton goes to jail next week” and lo and behold that’s all they ever find.

In the same vein, the gum wrapper thing was really a complaint disguised as a conspiracy, disguised as a “magical secret chapter”. At least a few fans wanted to see more Neville in their Harry Potter books, they wanted Neville’s parents, or someone like them, to have cool spy adventures or whatever else. The point is, they clearly weren’t getting what they wanted out of the printed works, but they didn’t want to turn against their Dear Beloved Author, so they started casting about for an alternative reality, one where J.K. Rowling wrote a cooler story and hid it in the pages of the one that actually went to press. So instead of just saying “Hey, Order of the Phoenix was kind of a letdown, I hope there’s more ninjas in the next book,” they said “Rowling is a genius because I wanted ninjas and she’s definitely going to give them to me, I have the gum wrappers to prove it.”

The same thing happened all over again when the BBC Sherlock show took a turn for the nonsensical. I don’t know from BBC Sherlock, but I watched the fascinating video critique by Hbomberguy, and it sounds like the show did tons of plot twists until it stopped making sense altogether in the fourth season. If you skip to 1:09:00 in the video, you’ll hear about fan theories that suggested that season four was supposed to be crappy, as part of a secret meta-narrative plan that would be paid off in a secret, unannounced episode that would not only explain everything, but retroactively justify the crappy episodes that came before. But it’s been a few years and it never came to pass, so I think we can call this myth busted.

Most recently, I think we’ve all seen a lot of talk about the final season of Supernatural, where I guess Destiel sort of became canon but only one guy does the love confession and the other doesn’t respond. But I guess he does say “I love you too” in the Spanish dub, which means the English language version was edited for whatever reason. It’s not exactly a secret episode, but the implication is that there’s more to this than what made it to the screen. So the questions turn to what the screenplay said, what the writers and actors wanted to do, etc. etc. My general impression is that SPN fans are a bit more used to crushing disappointment, so they’re not quite as delusional about this show being unquestionable genius, like Sherlock and Harry Potter. Maybe this is an Anglophile thing? Like, if you suck at something with a British accent, people will accept it more unconditionally?

I had seen something on Twitter about how there should have been a secret Seinfeld episode in the 90′s. Someone suggested it at the time, they tape a whole episode, then wait until 2020 to air it, because by then it would be worth a fortune. But they didn’t do it, because it costs a lot of money to make a TV episode, and if you don’t air the show right away, you aren’t making that money back any time soon. Yeah, you might recoup a fortune someday, but Seinfeld was making a ton of money then. It exposes the fannish nature of the idea. A fan would love to discover a cool secret chapter, but a content creator isn’t necessarily keen on making a cool thing and then hiding it where few people would find it.

I thought about doing this myself recently. Maybe Supernatural gave me the bug, but I thought “I’m writing this big-ass story, so what if I wrote me a secret chapter for it? Wouldn’t that be cool?” But no, it wouldn’t be cool, because it’d be the same work as writing a regular chapter, and the same stress I feel when I hold off on publishing it. Except I’d just never publish it, I’d put it in some secret hole on the internet and hope that some superfan who might not even exist can decode whatever clues I leave.

I mean, it’d be awesome if it got discovered and everyone loved it. “Hey, I found this hidden chapter! Mike’s done it again!” And I could bask in the glory. But what if no one finds it? Then I just wasted my time, right? I want people to read my work. My monkey brain needs the sweet, sweet validation of those kudos and comments, folks. Once I realized that, I understood why no one else would want to do a secret chapter either. Easter eggs are one thing, but the bigger bonus features they put on DVDs were pretty easy to find, and with good reason.

I think that’s what made the Stanley Parable so appealing to play, because it teases you with the idea that you can “break” the game and find some extra content that you weren’t supposed to see, but as you go exploring all those hidden areas, it gradually becomes clear that this is just part of the game; you were meant to find all these things, and that’s why they were put here. It’s hidden, but he secret aspect of it is just pretend.

I suppose that what I like about games like TSP and Superliminal is the illusion of secrets more than the secrets themselves. I like roaming through the hallways, having no idea what I might find ahead. I kind of wish I could open all the doors, and not just the ones the game designers put stuff behind, but the reality is that there’s nothing on the other side. I used a cheat code once to explore the unused doors in TSP and it’s just a bright white field on the other side. Interesting to look at, but not much of a reveal. Honestly, the doors themselves are more appealing than anything that could lay behind them.

And that’s probably what makes secrets so fun. They could be almost anything, but once you open the present, the number of possibilities drops to one. If they had ever made that Secret BBC Sherlock Episode, I doubt it would have lived up to expectations, but fans could amuse themselves by imagining what could have been in it. In the end, though, things usually don’t justify the hype. For every Undertaker debut at Survivor Series 1990, there’s a Gobbledygooker debut at Survivor Series 1990. It’s impossible to manufacture a secret with a guaranteed payoff.

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beelziebabie · 5 years ago

Text

The First (Human) Deviltuber - Obey Me Brothers x Reader

Interactive?: At some parts, yes (Later on)

Gender: Female MC

Edited?: nope

Notes: sorry for this being so late aaaa i got really sick yesterday and im still sick now. really sorry!! i made this one a bit longer than i normally would. i hope you enjoy <3💗💕💕

CHAPTER FOUR

“MC,” You heard a voice mumble, then a short but harsh shake to your shoulder. You grumbled and resisted the urge to flip them off, turning onto your side and bringing the blanket over your head. “Momo please. Go away. Let me sleep.”

“It’s 11 am.”

“Whatever. I wanna sleep.” He sighed.

“Cmon, I wanna do your makeup todayy,” Asmodeus pulled the covers off of your head and you sent a glare at him. He ignored it and patted your messy hair.

“Go take a shower and brush your teeth, then come back in here and sit at your dresser so I can do my work,” He beamed as you sat up, stretching your arms over your head.

“See, I even got dresser all ready!” He pointed to your dresser where everything needed to get your face totally ready was laid out. You blinked and ran your hand across your face.

“Where did you even find that?- Nevermind, where’s Mammon?” You asked, getting off the bed but tripping over something immediately after.

You heard a long groan right after your own. Asmodeus peeked over the side of the bed and held back a giggle, seeing you sprawled on top of Mammon and him struggling to process the situation.

“Theres your answer,” Asmodeus grinned and this time you flipped him off for real.

You got off of Mammon and apologized, leaving an innocent kiss on his cheek and pulling the blanket off your bed and draping it across Mammon. He was only in a tank top and sweatpants so he had to be pretty cold especially since your room had gotten chilly. He fell right back asleep after.

Asmodeus followed you out of your room and into the hallway to get to the bathroom. “Is everyone else up?”

“Nope, only Lucifer, Beel and Leviathan are awake. Including myself of course.” You hummed and turned on the bathroom lights.

You went to pull your shirt over your head when you realized Asmodeus was still in the bathroom with you, standing there with his hands behind his back and a closed eyes smile. You looked at him through the mirror.

“Uhh.. why are you still here? I need to shower.”

“Mhm!”

“That means I need to get naked.”

“I know.”

You sighed and pushed him out and he made no effort to stop you. “Asmo, I dont think you know what boundaries are.”

“Theres nothing on you I haven’t seen yet,” He shot you a wink and your cheeks flushed slightly as you suppressed a vein popping.

“What the hell does that mea- Nevermind. I’ll see you when I get out.”

. . .

After you got out the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your chest you felt much more awake than before. Just as Asmodeus said, he was waiting for you in your room near your dresser. He even went as far as picking out your outfit for you.

“Wow, I dont even remember buying these,” You picked up a light blue cropped hoodie and black, high waisted ripped jeans along with a bunch of jewelry. Normally you’d only wear an oversized hoodie and leggings.

“Your closet is completely untouched. How much stuff do you buy and never use?” He lightly forced you to sit down in your seat so he could start. You held your hair back in a low ponytail to make it easier for him.

“Uhh, a lot I think? Theres a lot of styles of Instagram and Pinterest that I like and want to try out on myself so I go on shopping sprees.. but I never actually wear the clothes out.” You paused. “Or ever, for that matter.”

He shook his head and laughed a bit. “I don’t even do that. What type of look do you want?”

“Really simple and natural, I’m planning on filming a video today so please make it quick Momo.”

He clicked his tongue and nodded. “You got it.”

. . .

He was quick. Extremely quick. It only took him, maybe, 45 minutes, which is less than half than what you thought it would take. You got dressed and headed downstairs where the other brothers were lounging, watching tv or cooking or eating.

You sat on the couch next to Beelzebub and sat indian style. “Goodmorning everyone.”

“It’s not even morning anymore,” Leviathan said, turning his head to look at you. “It’s almost noon.”

“It’s not my fault that you all are so tiring.”

You felt Lucifer’s eyes bore into the back of your head the moment you said that. “Okay..only five of you.”

“Welp, Levi, wanna go get started?” You tapped him on the shoulder and he nodded.

You stood up and waited for him to follow you to your gaming room. You pulled up another spinning chair for him to sit in and set everything up before looking to him again.

“You ready?” You smiled and he smiled weakly. “Yeah. As ready as I’ll ever be!”

“Aaand we’re live!” You said to the camera, waving with a giant smile as Levi sat timidly next to you. You elbowed him lightly in the arm and nodded to the camera. “Say hi Levi!”

The chat was swarmed with different usernames and messages. You did your best to read them all but the chat was going too fast. Moments like these you wished that you only had a couple thousand of followers, so that everyone could be noticed easier.

Levi put on a small smile and waved before looking down into his lap again. Out of your peripheral vision you could tell his face was on fire. You rubbed his back to spare him the embarrassment.

“Today’s live will be a Q&A while we play minecraft! How does that sound, Levi?” You glanced from the camera to Levi and watched him nod. You sighed. You could only hope that he would open up more as time went on.

You turned on slowmode for the chat so that the messages would go by slower. You handed a controller to Levi and turned on the TV that was just above your computer screen.

You looked back at the chat and smiled warmly at all the ‘Welcome Back’ messages. “Hi everyone, how are you? I missed you all so much.”

Most of the stream went by smoothly. Only most of it.

The boys would constantly enter and leave your gaming room, even after you told them to stop. Except Lucifer, who only entered once and left you alone for the rest of the time. You thanked him immediately after the stream ended.

Mammon seemed especially clingy today. You couldn’t pin why, maybe its because he woke up without seeing you immediately? Whatever it was, he would continuously try to get your attention during the stream.

To avoid making him upset or sad you would always give him at least a little bit of attention then go back to the stream. But he would come back minutes later with something else to show to you or say to you. You were very tempted to just throw him your debit card and leave it at that.

At some point you completely gave up. It was an endless cycle. Sometimes you cursed your motherly demeanor.

The door creaked open right when you placed down the last block of the mansion you and Levi built. He got the hand of the game pretty quickly, he even said that there was a game similar to Minecraft in the Devildom (not audibly, of course. You’re still being recorded.)

You turned your head towards the door and saw that it was Mammon again, but this time with Beelzebub as well.

“We came with snacks,” Bub said simply, pulling up a stool and sitting in it behind you and Leviathan. You thanked him and took a couple cookies from the pile in his arms.

Mammon stood next to you, idly. You looked up at him with a confused expression. “What’s wrong Mammon?”

He said nothing, and instead walked around the other side of the chair and situated himself in your lap.

“Mammon what are you doin- no- stop-“

His legs hung off the arm of the chair and his head rested on your shoulder. You did your best not to push him off your lap and start scolding him. You understood that he didn’t see you for most of the day (except tiny interactions) and he was so used to being around you 24/7 in the Devildom.

“You’re so heavy,” You sighed and went back to gaming.

“Shut up. You should be happy that I’m even speaking to someone as lowly as you.”

“I have more money than you even if its translated to Grimm.” You heard Beelzebub chuckle and Levi hold back a snicker.

“She probably isn’t wrong,” Bub said, opening another pack of chips to scarf down. Mammon clicked his tongue and shut his eyes, embarrassed that this all happened on camera.

You directed your attention back to the chat. You forgot to check it for a while. “Oops, sorry chat. ‘ricegoat’ says.. ‘you werent kidding when you said you have anime boys in your house’.” You laughed at the camera and smiled. “I thought you guys would believe me when I said that.”

The rest of the chat said some rather..peculiar things that aren’t entirely SFW. You had to stop those comments from coming since they were getting quite excessive and uncomfortable for you to read.

7 hours passed since you started the stream and you were starting to feel tired. Levi yawned as well, and Mammon was fast asleep in your lap.

You saved your minecraft world with Leviathan. “Thats all for today guys,” You stretched your arms over your head. “I think this is the end of the stream. I’ll be posting a video today and the highlights tomorrow. Say bye Levi!”

Leviathan smiled and waved at the camera. “Bye, chat. I’ll see you next time.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #tfdt #the first deviltuber #obey me mc #this is so late omg #mammon is my clingy boy🥺#i love him so much #i might have made him too clingy.. oh well its cute so im sure no one will complain

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kinnsporsche · 5 years ago

Text

hey baby (i think i want to marry you)

callum wants to propose to ben. ben has the same idea. it doesn’t exactly go to plan.

for @sunsetsover

word count: 2.1k

read on ao3

“I don’t know, Lo. Are you sure I picked the right one? What if he doesn’t like it?”

Lola sighs, nudging her shoulder against Callum’s in what she hopes is a reassuring way. “Would you relax a little? You’ve been sending me pictures of engagement rings for the past three weeks. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen every ring in this store by now.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Callum insists, drumming his fingers impatiently against the glass display cabinet. “I just want it all to be perfect. He deserves that much.”

“Hang on, didn’t you propose to Whitney with that god-awful ring? Whatever you get Ben can’t be any worse than that.” She’s teasing, Callum knows, and it does help with a little of the anxiety coursing through his veins.

“Thank you for coming with me, Lo. I think I’d be a nervous wreck if I was here on my own,” he says, fishing his wallet out of his pocket when the sales assistant heads back his way.

“As if I would have let you come on your own.” She watches Callum hand over his card to pay for the ring and beams at him when he gets handed a small black bag. “Come on, let’s see it then!”

Callum can’t help the way he grins, Lola’s excitement oddly infectious. He reaches into the bag and pulls out the small velvet box before popping it open with his thumb. The ring is simple, solid silver with a thin gold line running throughout the centre.

“It’s stunning,” Lola says, letting the box close with a gentle click. “He’ll love it, Callum, honestly.” There’s silence between them for a second, and she can tell Callum’s doubting himself again, so she decides to change the subject quickly. “So… have you given any thought to how you’re going to do it yet?”

“I don’t know yet. I want it to be special, you know? Ben deserves something special. But I don’t want it to feel like someone else’s proposal. I want it to feel like us.” Callum slides the box carefully back into the bag and hooks the handles over his wrist. “If it’s taken a month for me to decide on a ring, who knows how long it’ll take for me to decide how to actually do it.”

Lola nudges him, a little less gently than before. “Oi. You love him, right?” She doesn’t need the confirmation, but she waits for the nod anyway. “Then that’s all that matters. Ben’s head over heels for you, and I know you feel the same about him. So, stop panicking, alright? These things have a way of working themselves out.”

Callum can’t help the smile that tugs on the corners of his lips at her words. “Yeah, you’re right. Knowing my luck, though, Ben will end up finding the ring before I even have a chance to plan a proposal.”

“Well you better think of something quick then,” Lola teases, hooking her arm through Callum’s. “Now, I believe I was promised lunch. And after dropping a fair few quid on that ring, I’m sure you can afford somewhere nice.”

“It’s almost like you see me as a walking bank account.” Callum brings his hand up to his heart in mock-hurt and turns his head towards Lola with a pout. “I’m hurt. Really, I am.”

They’re both laughing as they head towards the exit, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. Callum doesn’t notice someone in his path until he’s collided with them and is getting an earful in return.

“You know, it’s really not that hard to watch where you’re walking mate-” a familiar voice is saying, and it sends Callum’s heart racing in his chest. He knows that voice. He’s in love with that voice.

“Ben?” Callum asks, disbelieving. “What are you doing here?”

The sound of Callum’s voice has Ben snapping his head up. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

“I asked you first!”

“I asked you first, really Callum? Are we twelve?” Ben huffs.

Callum panics, grappling desperately for some sort of excuse that would seem feasible. “I’m… here with Lola. She wants a ring... for Jay.”

“She wants a ring for who now?” He hears Jay ask, appearing next to Ben’s side like he had been waiting for his name to be mentioned. Callum wonders if he should have spent his money on a shovel instead, so he can dig himself out of the hole he keeps making deeper.

“I don’t-” he hears Lola saying, and then she’s smacking his arm lightly and glaring at him. Fix this! she’s saying, and Callum wishes he knew how.

Ben eyes them suspiciously, gaze finally settling on the bag that’s resting on Callum’s wrist. “What’s in that bag?” he’s asking before he can stop himself.

“Bag? What bag? I don’t have a bag!” Callum wrenches the bag behind his back, but the damage is already done now; he can see the realisation dawning on Ben’s face.

“No!” Ben’s snapping at him, arms folded stubbornly across his chest. “No, you don’t get to do this one. I’m the one who’s supposed to do this one!”

“What are you talking about? What are you supposed to do?” It takes a second, but when Callum remembers where they are and what Ben’s words mean, the realisation hits him like a ton of bricks. “Oh, absolutely not! I’m the one who gets to do this, I was here first!”

“You were the one who asked me out first, I’m the one who gets to do this!” Ben’s countering, vaguely aware of Lola and Jay backing away from them and inching closer to each other.

“You were the one who left your whole family and made a stupidly romantic gesture in the middle of the market when we got back together, it’s my turn to make a stupidly romantic gesture!” Callum’s aware of the looks being thrown their way, and he’s certain that if they keep it up, they’ll both be asked to leave. “Besides! I’m the one with the ring!”

“No, that’s not fair! Wait here.” And then Ben’s off.

Callum watches him walk up to the counter he was standing at a few minutes ago, eyebrows knitting in confusion. He looks to Jay and Lola for some kind of explanation, but they both just shrug at him. Jay has a knowing look in his eyes, though, and he glares at him for a second before Ben’s returning and standing in front of him again.

“Now I’m the one with the ring!” Ben says, a velvet box similar to the one Callum’s been carrying in his bag clutched tightly in his hand. “I’ve been waiting for this for almost a month now, got it engraved and everything, so I’m the one who should do this!”

Callum’s silent for a second, his eyes flitting between the box and Ben’s face. “You got it engraved?” he asks, voice coming out much softer than he’d meant it to. He doesn’t know why, but the thought that Ben would spend extra time picking out the perfect engraving makes his heart beat faster.

“Of course I did! Look.” Ben pops the lid open with his thumb and pulls out the ring so Callum can see. It’s a small, simple engraving, but ever since he’d first thought of proposing he knew exactly what he’d wanted on the ring. “I know I don’t say it enough. At least this way you’ll always know, even if I don’t say it.”

Callum almost tears up when he catches sight of the engraving. I love you, it says.

“Ben…” he trails off, words getting caught in his throat.

“I know, I know. You’re going to tell me that I don’t have to say it because you already know. But you deserve to hear it.” Ben draws in a breath and takes the ring back. “And I suppose now is as good a time as any, and we’ve never exactly been traditional-” that makes Callum laugh; it’s a sound Ben wants to hear forever, “-so I hadn’t planned on getting on one knee or taking you to some fancy restaurant to sweep you off your feet. I just wanted to do something to show you that I love you, that I’m in love with you, that I always will be in love with you.”

Half the store is staring now, and Callum’s sure Lola has her phone out to record them, but he can’t be sure because his eyes are filled with tears and his heart is so full of love.

“So, Callum Highway. Will you marry me?”

“Yes! God, Ben, you know I will but-” Callum pauses and grabs his own box from the bag. He fumbles with it for a few seconds before he manages to get the lid open and turns it to face Ben. “But only if you’ll marry me too.”

Callum doesn’t expect it when Ben surges towards him to crush their lips together in a searing kiss, and he has to throw an arm out against the wall to steady himself so that they don’t go crashing to the floor together. But Ben’s smiling against his lips and he can’t find it in himself to care.

“Was that a yes?” Callum asks when they pull apart breathless.

“Of course it was a yes you idiot.” Ben says as he reaches down and takes Callum’s left hand in his own. He waits until Callum nods at him before sliding the ring on his finger.

There’s a scattering of confused applause from some of the other people in the store, but neither of them are paying any attention to it.

“Obviously I don’t expect you to wear it-” Callum’s saying as he pulls the ring from the box to let Ben see it. “I’m not trying to replace Paul; I know how important he was to you and it’s not like I’m trying to cover it with a ring of my own. But I-”

“Callum.” Ben cuts him off, and Callum’s grateful for it; they both know he has a tendency to babble when he’s nervous. He makes a show of sliding the ring off his finger before his attention is on his fiancé again. “Shut up and put the ring on my finger.”

Callum lets out a breathy laugh and slides the ring onto Ben’s finger with shaking hands and then they’re kissing again like they’re the only two people in the room.

They only pull away when they hear someone clearing their throat next to them, and then both Jay and Lola are pulling them into hugs and giving them their congratulations.

“You know,” Lola starts when she steps back from her hug with Callum. “When I said these things have a way of working themselves out, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

They’re in the Vic later, mostly because of Kathy’s persistence. Both Ben and Callum had insisted that hadn’t wanted any fuss, but she wasn’t hearing any of it and had insisted that she wanted to officially welcome her soon-to-be son-in-law to the family and, well, neither of them had the heart to say no.

They’d been offered their congratulations by people they hadn’t even manged to tell yet and had been handed several glasses of champagne that neither of them had had to pay for. They hadn’t left each other’s side through all of it, their hands laced together down by their sides.

Callum almost ends up with a glass of champagne down his shirt when he goes to take a sip and is startled by Mick ringing the pubs bell. Ben teases him and wipes his mouth with his thumb to catch the stray champagne, then replaces it a second later with his lips.

“To Ben and Callum,” they hear Mick shout, which is promptly echoed by everybody in the pub as they raise their glasses in a toast.

“So, come on then-” Mick’s saying, leaning on the bar in front of the booth they’re sitting on and gesturing between them. “How’d it happen then? Who popped the question?”

Callum looks over to find Ben already staring at him, and they share a small, private smile. They both know Lola has that video, and if the way she’s fishing around in her bag is anything to go by, the entire pub will have seen it by the end of the night.

“Well.” Callum squeezes Ben’s hand, thumb brushing across the back of the engagement ring that sits on his finger. “It’s kind of a funny story, that.”

#eastenders #ballum #ben x callum #ben mitchell #callum highway #ballum fic #ballum fanfic #ee fanfiction #**#writing*

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iam-kenough · 4 years ago

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Will you ever notice me? (Arthur Morgan x Original Female Characters)

Summary: Dutch and his boys found a girl hidden inside wrecked shack near their camp. She introduces herself as Iris and starts leading outlaw life with Van der Linde gang, quickly developing feelings towards one, special cowboy. However there is big year gap between them and Arthur sees Iris just as a kid...And girl won’t take that!

Authors notes: TO THOSE WHO READ THIS - THANK YOU! I can see some of you leave hearts under my post on regular basis and even if it’s only one or two people, I will write for you. I have a question for you - would you see a crossover in this story? I have an idea for The Witcher crossover happening in 10 to 15 chapters. Any feelings about that? It’s just another chapter and you can find the rest of them following masterlist on my blog if you want to read more of my fanfiction. Hope you gonna enjoy it! Words count: 2816 Chapter 14 Arthur got up from bed with shitty mood this day, thinking about events from few night's before. How could Iris be so cold to him? Man couldn't get away from these thoughts. But he also knew that he deserved much more than only few harsh words. He was a bastard so she was dealing with him like with one. Woman was merciful enough to keep him around, at least that's what Arthur told himself. One thing couldn't get off his head. Where was she? Whatever he tried, Arthur couldn't find her recently, but the tent was here and girl's presence was visible, marked with her clothes, thrown on the floor or on the bed. He suddenly heard that someone is breaking glass behind the trees somewhere around the tent he was sleeping in.

- Glad it ain't your job - Iris was leaning against the tree. She looked different today, fresh, happy and she wasn't hangover. Girl was dressed similar to Arthur, black trousers with suspenders, dark green shirt, gun belt, high boots and her hair was collected in messy bun on the top of her little head. She was talking to Sean, who was shooting towards empty beer bottles.

- What about you, you can't do that to, can ya? - boy's accent was strong and thick, Sean visibly mocking Iris.

- Maybe you want to go with me and see me in action so you won't underestimate me anymore - woman threw him challenging gaze.

- What are you both up to, kids? - Arthur approached them, taking position on the opposite side to Iris's.

- Sean decided he's gonna train shooting skills. But there is one thing, bastard's drunk.

- That gives you twice much chances to shot someone! - Arthur spreaded his arms as honest and hearty laugh escaped his lungs.

- Stop scolding me, you are not even older than me, Iris! And by the way, you were the one who went yesterday downtown and killed some folk to pay your bounty, when half the state is hoping to shoot you for two thousand dollars. It was supposed to be a secret between her and Sean and Arthur threw her angry look right away. She wouldn't use his help and she meant it. The crease between his brows remained deep and his ocean eyes were locked on very certain person.

- Well, look at me, paying two thousand dollars fine for my head and killing multiple fellers when all you have to do is shot 5 bottles that ain't moving and you can't do that, can ya?

- I asked you to help me, not to scold me - Sean approached her, lowering his tone to calm and obedient so Arthur wouldn't hear what comes next - Don't make me ask him, he would laugh me off.

- Oh, that's who you are afraid of! Never would thought about that - she said out loud, looking at Arthur and smirking - Ye knew I learned form him, eh?

- You think you are so much better? Okay, give it a go, your best shot, Rhiannon! Iris threw him look of someone who's done with his shit and in the nick of time she pulled out a gun and almost at the same moment bottle cracked. She wasn't as fast as Arthur, but it was still impressive.

- Grow up - she said and turned around on heel.

- Oh come on, I'm paying you for that, don't go away, please? - Sean changed his tactics immidiately.

- You're paying for my compliments, not for real advices, attaboy. And I cannot be bought. Arthur stayed out of it, but it was amusing to watch as Iris is roasting everybody around wherever she can. That's his girl.

- I think you are too harsh on me, that's all - Sean got back to shooting, throwing looks above his arm to be sure Iris is still watching him.

- Oh, poor boy, some little lady is making you cry. You can ask our old Arthur for help, if ya don't like me - she patted Arthur's arm and Sean frowned.

- I won't listen to no Englishman!

- I don't like the way you talk to her, kid - Arthur scoffed, giving boy judgemental eyes - Guess you just lost chances with both of us.

Sean threw him disappointed look and got back to his task. Iris left Sean and Arthur followed her, grabbing her arm suddenly and turning her around.

- I told ya not to go anywhere alone, I offered you the money that could save you, why you keep pushing me and my help away? - he was towering her, looking down with disappointment. Iris's back rested against the tree and she tool deep breath.

- Arthur...darling...I told you I can't use your help, especially when it comes to money. Look at us, the last thing I need is to be financialy dependent. We don't get along at all.

- And why is that, what is wrong with me taking care of you? - man's palm rested near Iris's head when the elbow was straightened, closing one of possible ways for her to leave him hanging right now.

- You're not the one that should do that, Mister! You have woman you care about in your life, Arthur, her name's Mary.

- It's different with you - he murmured, averting his gaze.

-It is, you are right. There is nothing between us and you try to pretend it is.

- Nothin' between us, huh? And all those feelings we share? Since I met you my heart is fluttering as soon as I see you and I feel like a fool - Arthur muttered under his breath, it was crystal clear he hated speaking about his emotions.

- Feelings aren't enough sometimes. I shut this door, Arthur. It's over.

- You're breaking up with me?

- Arthur, we were never properly together in the first place, so calm down - her tone was serious but girl caressed his cheek and smiled - I'm sure I'm not the only girl that can warm you up at nights.

- You are the only one to me - he shaken his head with disbelief and clenched his jaw righ after, looking away like betrayed dog.

- I am not, you think I am naive enough to believe in that? You have past and it's chasing you, I ain't girl for you.

- What are you saying, kid? - Arthur's eyes narrowed.

- You're sleeping with Mary, right? At least that's what all red lights were showing me. All those letters, staying away, not coming home at night. I can't blame you, she's beautiful and more mature...more like you - Iris's voice was full of jealousy. Arthur suddenly grabbed her chin and kissed her. The feeling coming with the kiss was unbearable, sensation fallin on Iris, tying up knot inside her stomach. She suddenly felt butterflies trying to get outside her chest and blood running faster in her veins. But girl quickly realised it's her heart, racing so much it almost hurt. His chapped, plump lips were doing the job with softening her fasade, that's for sure. Iris couldn't help but run fingers through Arthur's golden hair. His breath was warm and stubble on Arthur’s face tickled a bit, causing shivers in lower part of Iris’s spine. That was it, he hunted her down again. She purred, sucking onto his lower lip and smiled dreamily.

- Do you think I could do something like that with anyone else but you? - Arthur asked - How could you assume I cheated on you and wasn't even asking me for my side of the story? I never did, especially not with Mary.

- Wait, does that mean that all those things that happened to us...are my fault? - girl's face suddenly dropped, brows forming into frown.

- I'm not blaming you, even if it is I can't - Arthur's forehead rested against hers - I should say something too, but I just thought I am too old for you, or maybe too stupid or to harsh when it comes to our intimacy and that's why you are slipping from my hads so quickly - Iris noticed that his eyes were glimmering.

- Hey, I am cold bitch but I wouldn't treat you so badly only for those things - she whispered surprised, her breath unsteady.

- I am not much to look at, I assumed you just wanted someone better...but I am the best for you, girl, I can feel we match just like puzzles does - it was the smoothest line Arthur Morgan ever used on anyone.

- You are unbelievable! - she scoffed - And that's why you were gone all days every time there was a letter from Mary?

- I am a fool - Arthur run fingers through his hair in nervous manner - I shouldn't help her, yer right, it looked so bad when now I remind myself...I just had this very wrong feeling sayin' I owe her somethin'. She was asking me about lot of things and I felt like idiot running her errands thinking it's just help that she needs after becoming a widow and I soon as she tried to...convince me I should ignore some young girl running after me and make love to her I escaped from Mary, a-and then I was diagnosed, assured by doctor I'm gonna die, I couldn't let you watch it- - Arthur was rambling on and on, falling apart at the same time. But then Iris grabbed his both arms, looking at him firmly but with genuine and consider smile on her rosy lips.

- I would never leave you, even if you'd die tomorrow. Heart doesn't work like this, I care about you, even if we don't have good time every day, Arthur. I would stay by your side, no matter what- Arthur's eyes became stromy again and he pulled Iris into tight embrace, burrying face in her hair. Man tried to hide it but Iris knew he's iritated with her little sugarcoating. Her small hands were running circles around his arms and back, letting him calm down a little.

- I was afraid...to infect you, Iris. I was already dirty, living like a savage, no need to do the same to ya.

- Shh, I'm not mad anymore - her heart was melting away on sight of Arthur Morgan who's trying to get her back. Maybe she was simple, so what?

- That means you gonna stay? I think you suit there.

- I will stay even if it's gonna be here, in this camp till the end of the world, you know it - she pecked his nose gently - We just have to sit down someday and talk about communication between us.

- You sound so smart sometimes even though all you do is stupid and reckless - Arthur mocked her.

- Its more about me without you, I need to be protected - she whispered to his ear, observing as this boyish grin appeared on Arthur's lips. Iris planned to do that more often, clearly seeing through him and his low self-esteem. Man needed to be reassured once in a while that he’s important.

Arthur cheered up suddenly, grabing Iris into rough bear hug, messing up her hair a little and grinning like stupid.

- And mister? I told you to quit smoking! - girl barked out trying to be intimidating but it caused only vibrations in Arthur's chest as he couldn't help but laugh.

Iris thought that she was light headed and drunk with love, but Arthur was just whole new level. All man was doing all days was following Iris around the camp as much as he could, looking ridiculous. If she was washing his shirts, he was scolding her for overworking herself, every time Iris chopped vegetables he was chiming in, helping her and kicking Mr Pearson out and hugs from the back happened often, usually stuttering her since Arthur could take really silent steps if he wanted to. Iris didn't mind though, she was adoring idea of hot, dangerous gunslinger falling on their knees for her even if for a second. Every moment she was reminding herself first time she met Arthur's stormy gaze, her knees were a little bit shaky.

Days passed and girl still couldn't figure out how to ask Arthur if they can share a tent. It should be obvious but on first night after their reconcile he mumbled ''goodnight'' and disappeared behind tent's flaps. Iris couldn't tell if she should follow, so stayed away and now it was another stupid problem she made up to have thing to worry about. In her head it looked like small gesture showing he's not ready for her to come and turn his life upside down again. She sighed and started getting herself ready to go to bed, undressing and stretching her muscles, listening with satisfaction as her whole skeleton cracked. She still was hurt after train robbery, that one was tough and running away from bounty hunters one day was even tougher. Air was warm tonight, a bit stuffy also dark clouds presaged storm. Iris decided she's gonna sleep naked and clothes she owned were throwed inside big, wooden trunk.

- Hey, Iris, can you come over for sec- - Arthur froze in place seeing her naked with eyes wide and mouth open in "o" shape.

- Go away! - she squeked, throwing pillow in his face.

- Jesus, I'm sorry! - Arthur looked away quickly, but his cheeky smile showed otherwise.

- You should knock, Mister! - girl said, covering herself quickly, not noticing small peeks Arthur was throwing at her ass and hips when she was turned around.

- Sorry, I wasn't expectin' you like that...- he said with goofy smile.

- Like what? It's too warm tonight to sleep wearing anything and suddenly I think I'm gonna melt away - Iris waved her hands with motion towards complexion, causing a little bit of cold air caress her glimmering face.

- Yeah, you- I mean, it's hot, y'er right - Arthur's hands became fidgety, he was picking on his nails nervously, blushing like a boy.

- And you should knock 'cause there are plenty things I can do naked - Iris mocked him, causing motion of his hands to speed up.

- Girls do that too?! Are you thinking of me when you-

- You pig! - she thew another pillow at him.

- I'm sorry, I wasn't expectin' you- I wasn't expecting that - his eyes eagerly run from up to down - Iwantedtoinviteyoutocomeoverplease.

- Huh? Are you drunk, Arthur?

- A bit, yes - it clearly wasn't a bit, Iris could tell, chatty tongue, jazzy hands, next thing is gonna be yelling how much he wants to cuddle her - I wanted to show you my new bed, it's bigger.

- Well, good for you, you always whined your back hurts - Iris shrugged.

- It's bigger so you could sleep with me - suddenly he got bolder, approaching her and slithering his hands onto her waist.

- Oh, I thought I wasn't invited - Iris pretended to look away and being irritated.

- You're right, I should do it properly. My lady, would you follow me to my bed and spend the night in my arms? - Arthur offered her a hand like he was asking Iris for a dance.

- Now that's something I like to hear, I would be honored, Mr Morgan - Iris said, picking up pillow from the floor and bringing it along with herself to Arthur's tent. New bed was really big and he was so creative to place few candles around, making mood more intimate and romantic. Iris whistled, showing she's impressed and rested on his bed, trying it out, rolling around for a minute.

- Ah, sorry, I should ask you. I'm little bit sticky - she said, her face glimmering from sweat.

- No no, go on - Arthur said, plastering his eyes to her body. He rocked a little bit in place as erection was growing hard in man's pants. Arthur's trying to look anywhere around, but it was impossible. Small feet, then slim calves, tights that had just enough cushion do lie down on them comfortable and then those round hips with neat buttocks.

- How much did you have today, Mister? - Iris raised her brow.

- A few beers, they lured me into that, I swear - Arthur said trying out his convincing tone and waving hands to show he's innocent.

- Surely - she purred, lowering her voice in sexy maneuver - I heard your voice, how it was again, hmm, ring dang doo?

- Maybe - he said, blushing briefly. Oh, Iris could do anything to him now and he would wag his tail like a puppy.

- You wanna come here or what?

- Y-you know, I'm good here for now - he rocked on the chair again. Iris noticed small tent rised in his pants and smirked.

- That's a shame - she sighed with fake disappointment - But I'm perfectly comfortable here so - she said stretching a little bit, her nipples showing of through chemise - Goodnight, Mister. Arthur gulped. She's gonna be the death of him.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x original character #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan romance #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 tag #arthur morgan angst

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whitehairedclea · 4 years ago

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Red Roulette part VIII

Helena sat in her office remembering Chang's words from last night. “As if I didn't know about my intuition, if it wasn't for my intuition I wouldn't open casinos in the States or raise such amount of money, you idiot” she thought. Then, for a split second, she remembered his hands holding her hand and her waist. Gently, yet firm enough to keep her from talking any more. She lit a cigarette and tossed the lighter at the corner of the desk. She quickly dispelled her memories, returning to the issue of the diamond. From the words of Chang showed that the guy did it on behalf of someone, and so probably the diamond has already been transferred to the client.

"Sebastian!"

A seconds later he appeared in the office waiting for an order.

"Bring the Spider over here immediately, maybe he will know something today that will be helpful"

"Of course, I'll get him right away," he replied and left the office quickly.

If someone did order the theft of the diamond, there must have been some trace of it on the streets. So many informants were fooling around deceiving every single profitable handful of information that such a fact of handing over the diamond could not have escaped them.

“ Mrs. Roulette! How nice ... "Spider began as soon as he entered, but Helena quickly cut off his greeting.

“Okay, finish this cirrus. Fast. Have you heard of any strange meeting last night? "

"Virtually every one in this city, as if you could be more precise"

“It's mainly about the diamond, so focus. Whatever you heard, whatever you know "

“Let's start 600,000,” he smiled.

She had no desire or time to bargain with him, so she just nodded, trying to trust her intuition that he was the only person who could move her search forward.

"I heard one guy brag about a huge amount of money earned for one thing, just one Job. Maybe not a diamond specifically, but quite a similarity"

"Well, who was it then?"

"One of the people coming to the Yellow Flag, long brown hair, possibly American, weird that’s why I remember and that's all I know."

This was more than she could figure out so far, so she thought she had found the lead. All she had to do was find this man and find out who told him to do the job. Time was running out and there was also a risk that someone would want to sell this diamond abroad. Probably worth more than all of Roanapur .

***

Sebastian headed for the Yellow Flag, a dingy bar on the main street. Inside, it was swarming with suspicious curiosities - dealers, bounty hunters, dirty workmen, prostitutes who could be hired upstairs. In all this hive, he was looking for an American with long hair.

"Hi Bao " greeted the owner "how's the deal?"

"So far so good, it's only been a week since the last damage, how r you ?"

"It's pretty good to say the casino is spinning somehow, little problems"

"Problems? What, boss has her period? " laughed, but after Sebastian's expression he retired to safer topics "so what problems?"

"I'm looking for a new stranger, he must have arrived here about two days ago, a long-haired brunette, an American, have you heard something about it?"

Bao rapped on the counter to indicate that nothing is for free. Sebastian took a bundle of money out of his pocket and asked for a mug of beer for that.

"My dear, if any connoisseur from Uncle Sam is going to roll through this town, he is sure to look into a lovely restored place like the Yellow Flag!" Bao moved closer to him so that no one would hear what he was saying "... how to tell you, the girls upstairs are definitely perfect"

Sebastian didn’t need more. He jumped up, throwing an additional tip to the bartender, and ran upstairs. Already on the stairs there were crowds of women who were Whiting for the client. Mixed voices of men and women came from everywhere. Every room felt occupied. Sebastian had to choose one to find the American.

One room caught his attention as there was no sound. He decided to try and blew the door open. Inside, a white man sat on the couch, counting quite a large mountain of money. It was obvious this guy was the one he was looking for.

In an instant, he took out the gun before he could react and pointed it at him.

"Dude what are you ?!"

"I would advise you to start talking before your brain will be on that wall over there!" he shouted.

The gun was now right at his temple.

"Who did you sell the diamond to?" Sebastian asked the distressed American.

"It's nothing personal man"

'I don't care, you stole my boss's diamond, who's not a very patient woman. If you want to get out of this, I advise you to talk, we will probably manage without you, but it will be faster,' he replied, unlocking the gun.

The American, feeling the barrel of the gun against his temple, understood how much he did not care about keeping the client's secret. He had money, keeping his life was a priority. Later he talked more than had to.

He was commissioned by an Italian named Dotti right after his arrival in Roanapur. He escaped from the Italian mafia and hid somewhere in the city, gathering his strength to take over the position of the then mafia boss. He couldn't announce his great comeback yet, so he decided to start marking his grounds with minor intimidations. Defecting Helena was to scare her and take over the casino as a new home. The plan might have worked if it had happened to someone else. Helena wasn't going to let go of such an insult, she would have pulled information about him from the city's canals to get him.

"THIS IS ALL I KNOW!" he shouted "really even the pasta makers don't know where he is. NOBODY knows, I got the money a moment ago together with the key to this room!"

There was nothing else to ask. He sheathed the gun and grabbed the bag of money, then threw them all out of the open window. Hundreds of dollars scattered across the crowded street. Seconds later, there were shouts of surprise and fights for every dollar.

"FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER WTF ?!"

'Enjoy you're alive. I'd rather blow your head off now" Sebastian replied and left.

He returned to the casino as soon as possible. It was the most important piece of information, the main puzzle to solve the whole case. They might have started working before it was too fast to spread around town that the Roulette casino could be brazenly robbed.

Sebastian shared with Helena all the clues he had obtained. Without a moment's thought, she rushed to the phone and started calling known informants if anyone had heard of Datti's location . Unfortunately, silence, no one knew him and no one heard of him since he hid from the Italian mafia.

"The little fish don't know anything or don't want to sprinkle ..." she said, looking out the window. Sebastian had the impression that she was running out of ideas on what to do next.

'Maybe actually wait for an intimidation attempt? There is a chance he'll reveal himself. ”Helena didn't let him finish, she held up a hand to silence him.

'I won't wait, Sebastian. It's a perfect night to spill some blood, "she said with a slight smile on her face, then added," If the little fish don't know anything, let's see what the shark says. "

'It means ?'

'We're going to talk to All-Knowing-Mr-Chang , I think it might be a good move.' her green eyes flashed.

Sebastian felt as if she was getting excited about this whole situation.

***

The private line telephone began to ring. Chang picked up "Cho , if they're Cubans again with cocaine in their veins, fire them, I won't play business with junkies," he dropped after a hard day. From this morning, one of the cartel people wants to sell him the idea of cracking down on cocaine in Japan. Like a drugged man, full of vision, he only wasted his time.

'Of course boss, it's just ... they're not Cubans. Red Roulette and Sebastian are here asking for a meeting'

Somewhere in the background you could hear Helena's voice, who didn't like the phrase 'ask'. She clearly tried to correct that she required this meeting.

'Let them in'

Chang began to believe that this evening was not going to be written off after all. "But there are still people in this town who can keep me entertained," he thought. A moment later he heard the clap of heels and a knock on his office door.

'Come in'

Cho entered first and signaled that they could enter. Helena straightened her red hair quickly and walked in with a serious look.

"Why do I owe such a great visit," he asked, comfortably leaning against the desk.

'I'll be short because I don't have time. I know who ordered the theft and it was Dotti , a former member of the Italian Mafia, but I have no idea where he is ' she came close enough to rest her hands on his desk. The red nails tapped gently impatiently. Her green eyes, full of fury, waited for his reply. It was only then that he noticed that there was a tiny mole on her face next to her left eye. Right at the tip , as if it was waiting to be spotted under the cover of red waves of hair. The long black dress sparkled softly in the light, and Chang wished she would take a few steps back to see her leg emerging from the slit. The louder tapping of her nails brought him back to reality. He wanted to laugh at wandering his mind, but quickly gathered his thoughts.

"Of course, I know where he is. Boss of the italian mafia still makes me laugh that he can’t find this Dotti guy. I'll help you with him, " he replied, standing to put on his jacket.

'You misunderstood me, Mr. Chang. I don't want you to help me deal with him. Just give me his location, I'll do the rest myself. '

It made the corner of his mouth turn into a devilish smile. The predator's gaze shone from behind his black glasses .

'Sorry, I misinterpreted your intentions. Then let me accompany you on this journey ”he offered her a hand, lowering his head as if inviting her to dance.

He was eager to see this confrontation unfold. And most of all, what she can do. As a new fish in town, she had to show that she could do more than sell information, otherwise it would be difficult for her. She could slide quickly to the very bottom of that Roanapur abyss .

'In that case, let's dance tonight' she smiled malevolently.

#mine

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writingkeepsmewhole · 5 years ago

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Rocky Start

This is part 1 of a new fic I’m starting. I kinda thought it up forever ago and never thought anyone would like it but who cares I like it haha I hope yall do to. This is also day 5 of my 365 day fic challenge. Where I’m going to post 365 fics before 2020 is done, so stick around for that.

Fic Summary: Alva has a huge crush on the god of thunder her working in castle for years. When Alva is to deliver some ale to Thor’s room one night things don’t go at all like she planed.

Thor Odinson x OC Alva

Warnings: Sexual assault, violence, depression.

Let me know what yall think about this one.

It’s a human thing…. Wanting what you can’t have. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t keep my eyes down when he walked into a room. Or make my heart stop pounding. But even for a god Thor was different. He’s what every woman wanted and what every man wanted to be. It was easy to get trapped in his looks. His eyes what always made me choke on my own words. I taught myself to keep my eyes down so I had some chance of having a clear head when I had to answer him.

My name is Alva one of the servants who got to serve Odin and his family. It was an honor to do so and most of the time I enjoyed it. I stayed in the kitchen, or ran food to someones chamber when they wanted it I was mainly invisible which I was completely okay with. It let me get to see Thor without him seeing me. That all changed when I had to take a tray of food to Thor’s room.

I felt myself practically shaking as I walked to his door. It was the first time I’ve ever had to go to his chambers. I knew it meant nothing. He would take the food and barley glance at me but I’ve never been so close to him.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the large wooden door. My heart was pounding in my chest as the door opened. It stopped when I was met with the sight before me.

I came eye level with Thor’s bare chest. I felt my race flushes I made myself look at the floor.

“Your fare my lord.” I say holding up the tray of meat, fruit and cheese.

“Just set it on the table.” He says or rather slurs holding the door open wider to let me step inside.

I nod hearing my blood rush through my veins as I walk into his bedroom. It was large. Bigger than my house. A great round bed was directly across from the door. It looked like it could hold ten people instead of it’s intended one. It was a dark wood finish it covered in different furs and wools. Many pillows scattered across it.

The table Thor gestured to was off to the left of the door. It was a dark wooden table sat low to the ground, pillows surrounding it. To the right of the room was a another table. It looked like the one meant for eating. It sat higher up with four chairs placed under it. The chairs covered in carvings of dragons and other creatures.

“Did you bring any ale?” Thor asks pulling me from admiring his room.

“Yes my lord.” I say pulling the skin of ale off my shoulder.

“Give it to me.” He says stopping me from placing it next to his food.

I feel my stomach flip as I stand up and face him. Him towering over me. He was tall. Over six foot at least. I gulp and look down holding out the skin.

“Are you new?” He asks surprising me.

“New?”

“To the castle. You have to be I think I would have remembered a face like yours.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you my lord.” I say ducking my head farther down.

My stomach knots up and hurt feels my chest at what he said. I know I wasn’t beautiful like the gods but I didn’t think I was that ugly either.

“I believe you have misunderstood me.” He says making me jump when he touches the bottom of my chin and makes me look up at him.

“Your very beautiful for a mortal.” He says holding my face in place.

I blush and look down with only my eyes.

“Thank you my lord.”

“Would you like to lay with me?”

“What?” I choke out wondering if I heard him right.

I didn’t get the chance to answer him bending down to press his mouth to mine. At first I was shocked then excited but neither emotions lasted long. Him wrapping his arms tightly around me made me start to panic.

Pulling away from him I pressed my hands to his chest trying to push him off me.

“Now now stop fooling around.” He says easily picking me up and carrying me to the bed.

“Please don’t.” I say the smell of ale on his breath.

“Relax it’ll be fun.” He says pinning me to the bed his body covering mine.

“I don’t want to do this my lord.”

“Shh.” He says pressing his mouth to mine again.

This time hungry as if he was dying of thirst and I was a pitcher of water. I try to kick him off, pushing and hitting at his chest as tears at my dress. His hands squeezing at my chest and arms.

I feel powerless as he starts to kiss and suck down my neck. It rough and him biting me from time to time.

“Thor stop.” I whisper out pleading with him.

“What did you say?” He asks lifting his head up to look at me.

I watch as his blue eyes almost seem to clear up.

“Please stop Thor.” I say softly my voice cracking as tears run down my cheeks.

He sits up quickly making me jump. I half expect him to yell or hurt me. Knowing the tales of the god of thunder timper.

“I’m sorry.” He says shaking his head and climbing off the bed.

“You can leave.” He says guilt and confusion washing over his face.

I quickly get off the bed and start heading towards the door trying to use my ripped dress to cover me.

“Wait.” He says his booming voice making me jump.

I freeze in place knowing I have to listen or else he could have me killed. I jump when I feel something laid over my shoulders.

“You can keep it.” He says talking about the heavy cloak he just placed over me.

I don’t say anything only wrap it around myself and grab the door handle ready to get out of there as quickly as I can.

As the door closes behind me he says I’m sorry it he last thing I hear as I rush down the hall, this time shaking for a whole different reason.

I hide in my home the next few days faking ill but I felt it. The knot in my stomach wouldn’t go away and every time I thought about that night I would start crying all over again. I knew my mother knew what had happened to me. I knew by the way she tiptoed around me. Never touching me not unless I could see it coming. Never using a harsh or loud tone. She went threw the same thing when she was young. It only happened once but her assailant didn’t stop. I guess that I was lucky.

I didn’t feel lucky. I felt even less lucky when I could hear my parents softly argue about having enough to last through the winter. I knew I had to return to the castle. We needed the money, even more so when I overheard the news of my mother carrying her fifth child. Father could barely feed us now. So after three days of feeling like a shell of myself I made myself get up, get dressed and make it to the castle in time to help with preparing breakfast.

“Alva your back. Feeling better?” Eirik one of the other servants asks when I enter the kitchen.

Most of the others turn to me and say there own form of greeting. I smile at them then turn to Eirik.

“Yes just needed some sleep.”

“Yes rest does the mind and body well.” He says grinning. I knew it was because he favored me but I never gave him the time of day because of my crush on Thor now I couldn’t even think about anyone touching me.

I smile back to be polite and throw myself into work busing myself with any and everything. When it was time to serve breakfast, I felt myself get sick and my hands start to sweat. But I couldn’t slack off I couldn’t lose this job.

Picking up a tray of food I followed the line of people up to the dinning hall.

“Do you think he will come today?” One of the younger girls in front of me whispered to the one next to her.

They were both red heads they looked similar sisters maybe.

“I don’t know. I hope so. Seeing him is what gets me through the day.”

“Oh my gosh I can’t believe you still have a crush on him his brother is way more level headed.”

“What are you two yammering on about?” Eirik asks him just in front of them most likely hearing just as much as I could.

“You know lord Thor hasn’t come to breakfast for three days now and I’m just starting to worry about him. What if he’s ill.”

“God’s don’t get ill.” I say sharply earning confused look from both the girls and Eirik.

“Well they don’t nothing bothers them.”

“Well something has been bothering-.”

“Shh.” Eirik says as we reach the top of the stairs.

The door at the top being held open for us as we all pack our own trays in. I stopped when I spotted the large form of Thor. Him turned away from me and talking to his mother. That only lasted a second when he looked up his blue eyes meeting mine almost instantly, as if he was looking for me.

“Go.” Eirik whispers looking at me.

“Right.” I say nodding my head and walking to the table.

I tried to just find a place to set the pitcher of ale I was carrying that was farthest from Thor but it seems that fate had different plans.

The only place was right between Thor and his mother. My hands seemed to sweet even more with each step I took closer to him. Scared he would remember me, would say something would touch me. I couldn’t reject him I would offend Odin if I did.

That knowledge didn’t stop me from jumping when Thor reached out towards me. Doing so I felt the pitcher slip from my hand and drop to the floor. The clay jar shattering splashing both me and Thor with its contents.

I stood there in shock at what had just happened. My first day back from skipping out on duties and I do this. I was done for.

“What do you think your doing? You stupid girl don’t you know how to pour a drink?” Odin yelled making me jump back into reality.

“I’m sorry my lord! Please it just slipped.” I say bowing to him.

“Well don’t just stand there clean it up.”

“Yes of course.” I say quickly dropping to my knees them getting soaked as I start picking up broken pieces as fast as I can.

“You mortal’s can’t do anything right.”

“Now now sweetheart it’s quite alright me and Thor are fine right?” The queen says softly.

“Yes mother I’m fine.” Thor says his voice making bad memories fill my head.

I try not to think about them, only focusing on cleaning up my mess. I hiss in pain when one of the sharp pieces slice into my palm.

“Are you alight?” Thor asks softly.

I nod my head and quickly stand up ignoring the blood running down my hand.

“Here let me wipe this up.” Eirik says him behind me with a cloth.

“Thank you.” I mouth to him earning a smile as I quickly ran back to the kitchen.

I throw away the broken jar and then wash my hand wrapping it up as well.

“What was that about?” Eirik asks coming back downstairs.

“I just got started.”

“Yeah well having a crush is one thing but jumping at the chance he might touch you is a bit ridiculous, don’t you think?” He asks talking about Thor.

“It’s not that.” I say moving to the other side of the kitchen.

“Then what is it?”

“Not important. I need to go clean something.” I say not wanting to talk about Thor or anyone for that matter.

I spend the rest of the day avoiding anyone who even hints at wanting to talk to me. I spend the next few days doing the same. I made sure to be doing something when it came time to serve meals, not wanting to see Thor.

Stayed awake most nights unable to sleep. My dreams making what almost happened play over in my head.

When I did somehow end up in the same room as I still found myself stealing glances but now for a different reason. I couldn’t understand how the person who haunted my dreams was the man who would laugh with his family and friends. It was like nothing happened for him and that hurt even worse, only making me feel more hollow.

It wasn’t until a week after I returned did I have to face him. I was in the playing hall. Where guest in the castle would come and play games like chest or other strategy games.

I was dusting off one of the tables when Thor and his brother Loki came into the room.

“Your not going to beat me brother I'm smarter one.” Loki brags walking to the table farthest from me.

“I’ve been practicing.” Thor says but his voice sounds far away as if he’s not paying attention.

Telling myself not to look up I can’t when I feel eyes bore into me. I risk a glance to find eyes meeting mine.

I quickly look away from them but not before I see guilt in them. It the same look he gave me that night.

‘So he does remember.’ I think as I gather my things for cleaning and leave the room.

‘He remembers but hasn’t apologized. I mean of course not he’s the son of Odin he can do whatever he pleases. Apologizing to a mortal is the last thing on his list of wants.’ I think to myself.

After I was done for the day I didn’t go home. With a purse full of coin I went to town planning on getting my family something for dinner to surprise them.

Well it wasn’t a surprise now I did it every time I got paid but it was nice to have something to look forward to. As I walked I thought about what I wanted to eat, or what my family would like to eat.

As I was walking, I kept my head down trying to to draw attention to myself I didn’t like it much anymore. Doing so made me bump into someone.

“I’m sorry.” I say looking up meeting a brown eyed man.

“It’s okay just watch where you're going.” He says smiling.

I smile back as he steps around me and starts to walk towards the town pub. I put my hands in my pockets glad to still find my purse there.

I turn and go back to what I was doing, the sun starting to set so I had to hurry. Once I had a basket of bread and cheese I started my walk back home.

The streets were dark the only light coming from the fires in the windows of the still open shops.

I shiver a bit at the night air wishing I would have worn a cloak. It makes me think of Thor’s cloak lying on my bed.

Despite what happened and who it belonged to I slept with it at night. It was warm and thick and I found some messed up from of comfort in being wrapped up in it. Like if the air of the room couldn’t touch me, if my skin couldn’t be seen I was safe.

Thinking of that made me once again run into someone. I was surprised to find the same pair of brown eyes from before.

“Well hello again.” he says smirking down at me. The smell of wine on his breath.

“Sorry.” I say stepping around him not wanting to be around him, fear prinkling the back of my neck.

“Sorry? That’s it?” The man asks but I ignore him continuing to walk.

“Hey don’t walk away from me.” He calls a hand suddenly grabbing my arm and jerking me back. I scream my stuff falling to the ground.

“You bumped into me twice today and your just gonna say sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to.” I say softly his grip on my arm tightening.

“You think that’s good enough?” He asks pulling me closer to him his face inches from mine.

I gulp my stomach knotting up as I freeze.

‘Not again.’ I think as I start to push him away.

“Get off me.” I say loudly opening someone hears me.

“No, I don’t think so little thing.”

“Get away.” I say smacking him.

“Oh your gonna pay for that.” He says drawing his own hand back, expect someone else stops him from swinging.

I stop when I follow the hand on his wrist to the body of none other than Thor.

“Let her go.” He says calmly as a rumble of thunder is heard over head.

The man lets me go and turns around ready to say something but stops when he sees who it is.

“Touch her again and I’ll have your hands, both of them. Got it?” Thor asks looking down at him.

The man nods quickly.

“Good, now go away.” Thor says letting him go.

He quickly runs off staggering and falling over his own feet as he does.

I stand there in shock at what had just happened.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly calmly. Like the way you would talk to an injured animal.

“Umm yes.” I say nodding and dropping my eyes to the ground.

“Thank you my lord.”

“Do you need help getting home?”

I shake my head and bend down to pick up my things. Them fine for the most part. I stand up and start to walk away from him when he calls me name is shocking me.

“You know my name?” I ask turning to look at him, well not at him. Passed him I couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Alva right? I asked around.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’ll tell you if you look at me.”

Taking a breath I make myself look at his face. He’s bright blue eyes boring into mine.

“I wanted to know your name for when I apologized for what I did to you.”

“You didn’t do anything.” I lie not knowing why.

“Yes I did. You were gone for three days so I did something. I almost crossed a line that I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever did. I pray that you can forgive me, even if you never look at me again.” He says his brow wrinkled with guilt.

“Why do you care if I look at you?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Because I want to make sure your okay. I’m not good words my guess is you are similar.”

I shrug him half right I only bothered my mother with my problems but I even left her out of the news on what happened.

“It’s fine really. Your forgiven.”

“You don’t have to give it to me. I’ll earn it.” He says smiling a boyish grin it making his bright eyes brighter.

“Okay. May I go now?” I ask not wanting to be in this situation it was hard to think straight looking at him.

I’ve never done it for this long before and now my brain was mixing with him saving me to him attacking me and it was making it hard to know what I really felt about him.

He smiles and nods. He’s eyes were sad but his smile almost masked that.

“Thank you. Goodnight my lord.” I say turning away and heading to my home.

As I walked I wondered what he meant that he would earn my forgiveness. I guess I would find out.

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janevillanueva · 5 years ago

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jane & rafael: telenovela loves & true love interests.

disclaimer: this post/essay will discuss michael, but it’s not meant to open the door to anger or discourse. he’s just part of the story. this is not an anti-anything post and he will not be tagged, neither will the ship. if you are gonna argue, please don’t. this is meant to be a civil post. thank you! ♡

jane the virgin is a cw show based on the 2002 venezuelan telenovela juana la virgen. while some factors are altered for american television, jtv carries the same key elements as it’s telenovela counterpart and for all intents and purposes is a telenovela. under the cut i’m gonna get into what that means and how/why it shapes the show and jane’s love story. this is long so apologies if you’re on mobile.

a common misconception among non-latinos is that a telenovela is simply a soap opera in spanish. while the two share similarities a telenovela is a condensed story told over the course of about nine months. it is usually a story of rivaling families and/or a love story in the vein of cinderella or pride and prejudice. a telenovela has to be a balancing act. it has to be unpredictable and ridiculous, but have a soft landing at the end. it throws endless drama and twists at you, but the ending is always fundamentally the same. you know the story - and that is not a bad thing.

because of this, if you are familiar with telenovelas, you immediately know that jtv is jane and rafael’s story. jane and rafael’s relationship being messy is what makes them the main couple. telenovela couples are a disaster, and we love them for it. we eat up their forbidden romance, their fights in the rain, their longing. now, with that comes a lot of “problematic” and “toxic” behavior. it’s a staple. there are age differences, power imbalances, fights, potential incest, MURDER. you name it, there is a telenovela plot. if you look at it from a telenovela pov jane and rafael are actually pretty tame. but they still are a telenovela couple. and some of those trademark things are part of their story because they are an ode to the genre. and the drama is their driving force.

for me, being team rafael was never about who the better man was or who “deserved” jane. it was “this is a telenovela and this is their story.” rooting for them was about the culture i know and hoping the show would respect that and the source material. it was “THIS IS THE STORY.”

what i love, however, is how they also challenge what that means. yes, they fight. jane is judgmental of other people and rafael shuts off emotionally. they scream at each other. they do all of that. and it turns some people off. but what they also do is is talk. they communicate.

think about early s4, probably the worst raf has ever been. he fucks up big time. but it’s a learning experience for him. the show does not excuse him. he gets hit by a car, he sits with jane on the floor and acknowledges that he fucked up. he cries to her, with her and realizes he has to do things differently. and this is just one example. later that season he reads jane’s writing and finds she wrote about michael, he feels shitty - but in the end they talk, he apologizes and gets her a private writing space. every fuck up, every choice, is something that brings jane and rafael closer and makes them change toward becoming right for each other. i have no doubt they were in love in season one, but they weren’t right for each other yet.

this is where jane and michael come in.

i say this with no malice: michael was a false romantic lead. he was a plot device. i always knew this. it sounds mean, but i don’t mean it to. it’s just a fact. that isn’t to say people who ship them are invalid, but in no way were they ever cheated or lied to by the writers. they just misunderstood the story.

the very crux of the jtv love triangle is being practical and safe vs. following your heart and being brave. i’m not going to deny jane loved michael, just like i’m not gonna deny she loved adam. love often comes many times and teaches us things every time. but a lot of jane’s love for michael came from having a plan and it being simple. from what xo and alba wanted for her, not what she wanted for herself. it fit in a binder. with michael she had settled into the idea of being a teacher, which was not her dream, and by age 23 (a baby!) she was looking forward to marriage.

(sidenote: lbr, she wanted to have sex. from a narrative pov jane marries michael so early in the show so she can have sex in future seasons while still keeping the traditional telenovela wedding series finale. it’s a bridge and a way to extend the long journey to her finding her way to rafael again.)

none of this is to say a simple life is a bad life. but we know that in jane’s heart that is not, and never has been, the life she truly wants. she loves telenovelas because she loves the idea that two people are meant to be together, she loves romance novels and she loves writing. jane plays it safe because she has the catholic mindset drilled into her by alba, and has tried not to repeat xo’s mistakes. her life is about caution, but that isn’t what her heart wants. she has big dreams. but no one who pushes her outside of her comfort zone to follow those dreams, or even simply acknowledges her as a writer. until rafael.

and rafael is not michael. they are very, very different relationships. raf is not simple. he is a complex character and a flawed one as well. he is a telenovela lead. “i’m your romantic hero. i may be flawed, but i’m yours.” in season one jane and rafael love each other magnetically. they love each other because of their destiny. and at that time, it’s not enough. they BOTH have to change. rafael more so, of course. but even rafael being the one who changes his reality to have a life with jane is foreshadowed in season one with alba’s story about grandpa mateo giving up his money to be with her. when you look at it from a telenovela lens, it’s wonderful to see rafael go from someone who is drowning in money and doesn’t know how to ride a bus, to someone who takes a real estate job and a one bedroom apartment to support jane’s dream because he WANTS to. because that’s who he has become. does he have selfish moments? yes. but everyone does. everyone on the show fucks up and is shady because that is the dna of the show.

but rafael is a character who is ironically overlooked by parts of the fandom because of his looks and how it’s “all we like about him,” when his looks aren’t what make him interesting. to understand rafael, you have to pay attention to his entire arc, not just parts of it. he’s someone who has carried trauma and abandonment issues since he was a child. his mother left him and his dad treated him like garbage. he fundamentally believes everyone will leave him. and as much as we adore her now, petra was his wife and cheated on him - after they lost a child. and he had cancer.

rafael has known loss and that shapes his behavior. it’s why he makes the mistake of pushing jane away end of season one. and it’s also why he holds on so tightly to the hotel. because for the longest time it was the one thing that was his. and the idea that he could lose that too drives him crazy. because what else does he have? that doesn’t make it okay, but it makes it understandable. and i think so much hostility for rafael/jafael comes from misunderstanding.

on the other hand, michael is probably the main character we know the least about. outside of being jane’s love interest we know basically nothing about him. we meet his family briefly and in passing. who is he outside of the context of jane? what was his childhood, what are his own issues? we never see them. the most he changes is in montana, off screen. this isn’t to talk shit, it’s to point out that he was never the true love interest.

when michael “died,” i knew there was no way in hell he was actually dead. it’s the oldest trick in the telenovela book. michael’s death was to bring jane back to rafael. but it’s important to remember that she doesn’t run right back to raf, and he doesn’t expect her to. jane mourns, she grieves, and dates around while rafael undergoes his own journey and growth. michael’s false death taught jane that life is unpredictable and can’t always be planned for. it’s only after years that she and rafael fall back in love. and those years of growth allow for them to become friends first and foremost. friendship is the most important aspect of a relationship and what they were missing season one. they really KNOW each other, which was the argument michael had before. that they didn’t know each other.

rafael is not the same person at the end of the show as he was in the beginning. we see that change happen. we know his family, his past, his issues. and that doesn’t mean he doesn’t backslide sometimes because of the fact that. 1. recovery and healing is not linear. and 2. again, telenovelas thrive on drama. but his core values have changed drastically to match jane’s. at the end of s5 they are at a place they can openly discuss their problems before they become bigger and we know they will have a life filled with joy.

jane and rafael’s romance is all interconnected. season two and five in particular. season five people thought rafael was being unfair, and perhaps he was a bit. but him shutting himself off isn’t just because michael came back. after all, he brought him back. it’s because michael came back, jane assured him nothing changed and then things… started to change. (and i don’t fault jane for having to explore.) he sees what happened in season two start to happen all over again and he’s scared. he doesn’t shut himself off to hurt jane, he does it to save himself and his mental health. he is, quite literally, triggered. because he’s mentally ill. and while they could have done it better, the show does address it. which would never happen on a telenovela. where a original telenovela lead would say, “leave michael or i’ll just fucking die without you.” rafael says, “leave me so i can survive you choosing him again.” no one should feel like a second choice and it isn’t inherently selfish for him to put his mental health first. the fact is this: people contain multitudes. rafael did help jane through her grief, that doesn’t go away. but when circumstances change, they change.

after jane married michael rafael felt like a second choice. but i think he was always her first choice. if he hadn’t ended things in season one, things would be different. but he did. and she went back to what was easy, and chose to try to act like her old life hadn’t been changed. but it had. even if michael hadn’t died she still would have found her way back to raf. and if rafael hadn’t taken her back, she wouldn’t have gone back to michael. that doesn’t mean marrying michael was the WRONG choice at the time, but it’s not her choice anymore. michael coming back had to happen because it let jane have full authority over her choice and let her choice have meaning. jane had practical before and CHOSE to be brave. she grieved and moved on to find happiness again. she saw the life she wants to have and wants to have it with rafael because he has become her best friend and person that knows her reality best for four years.

i spent a lot of years thinking about what the petals falling mean. obviously, they were foreshadowing a wedding. their wedding song is “una flor” by juanes. but more so, flowers bloom naturally in miami, while snow had to be manufactured. jane and rafael are also centered around water. water symbolizes fertility, freedom, change and rebirth.

jafael is about them seeing each other, and loving each other. even the bad parts and even through the hard times. it was about them coming to KNOW and love each other and help each other be the best and fullest versions of themselves. it was about them finding even ground after the long struggle for it and finally finding commitment and compromise between two very different and stubborn people who were destined to be together but chose that destiny as one they want to live and make it a reality. in the end they are soulmates, lovers and friends.

what i’m saying is that you don’t have to like jane and rafael. but i wish there was more respect for the fact that their relationship is tied to a long and well loved culture. and they themselves are an ode to a very well loved relationship in an already existing telenovela. jtv is a retelling/remake. them ending up together and their journey getting there was made for a latino audience first and foremost, who (mostly) would know and understand the story in it’s messy glory. jtv is jane and rafael’s story, told by their son, with symbolism and foreshadowing the ENTIRE show. it is layered, and the opposite of “superficial.”

tdlr: they honor the telenovela couple by being messy, but they challenge them by always lovingly cleaning up that mess afterwards. and i love that. there’s nothing wrong with loving that.

#jane x rafael #jafael #jane the virgin #jtv #jane villanueva #rafael solano #meta #txt #long post

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main-to-card-games-and-pain · 5 years ago

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five, tops

for the ask: “can you write a one shot where tony and peter are kidnapped and tony has to watch as they torture peter?”

(I had to post like this because for some reason posting straight from the ask wouldn’t let me make a ‘read more’ line and this one is a heft girl, we need that line.)

…

Yes! It was my pleasure, sorry it took so long! Hope you enjoy it, poor babies :( This was so hard to write without a laptop ffs, I need to get myself some working technology. TAG AS SHIP AND I WILL KILL YOU ST*RKERS MOVE ON.

…

Tony Stark was happy.

It seemed like an everyday thing, to be happy, but not to genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropists. To them, happiness was a rare commodity that only lasts as long as they deserve it. (Which is not long.)

And yet, here was Peter Parker. Tony didn’t deserve him at all, and yet he stayed and smiled and joked and made Tony’s life bright with his light.

Peter Parker made Tony Stark happy.

And someone else knew that.

…

They’d gone out for pizza, some hole in the wall, neighbourhood kind of place (exactly as Tony liked it), and were celebrating Peter’s science award with sundaes afterwards.

It was a good day.

Tony wasn’t wearing his tell-tale suit, rather he sported a pair of jeans, an MIT hoodie, sunglasses and a ball cap; it kept the press away.

One arm was slung comfortably over Peter’s shoulders and Peter was returning the embrace around his waist. The kid beamed at him the way only Peter could and opened his mouth to no doubt tell another awful science pun when his smile dropped and morphed into pain.

“Pete, it’s alright, don’t worry.” The inventor immediately began to whisper assurances, steering them away from the busy sidewalk into a calmer avenue. Tony’s face betrayed the concern he was feeling, but his tone was calm. “Are you having an overload?” Tony rubbed reassuring circles against the teen’s back.

Peter gasped, his senses going wild (but not from an overload), “no! No, it’s not that Mr.Stark it’s not-” Something big and powerful smashed into the two. Peter’s Spidey-senses went haywire.

Tony had his gauntlet out immediately and a suit on its way, but still every receptor in his brain started to scream danger.

Peter was up too, but without his suit he wouldn’t (Tony hoped) be able to do much.

Both their eyes scanned the area for the threat, it had been a shock wave that knocked them over, but neither could see where it came from.

“Get to the car Peter.”

Mr.Stark never called him Peter.

“No, I want to help-”

Another wave threw them off their feet.

Tony was quicker on the recovery this time, standing up and throwing Peter away from him.

“Go, Peter!”

“I can help!”

“Then go to the car, and call your friend.” Their eyes met, Tony’s message clear as day. Peter nodded frantically and turned away from his mentor, ready to dash down the street where the Bentley was waiting with his suit.

He didn’t get very far.

Something pierced his neck and sent sparks of electricity through his veins. The boy went down, desperate snuffling kind of noises escaping his throat.

They didn’t need to subdue Tony Stark then, not when he turned around and found his kid convulsing on the ground.

He dropped to his knees on his own accord, hands splayed in surrender.

…

He woke up.

Chains, not handcuffs. Cold. Wet. Dark.

Tony was sick of this shit. Warehouse, somewhere isolated, Rhodey would find them in two hours, five, tops.

“Hi Mr.Stark…” Tony’s head jerked upwards, eyes flashing in alarm. Peter was grinning sheepishly, like he didn’t understand what kind of danger they were in (he did) or he wasn’t afraid (he was). “I’m guessing we’re not going to make sundaes.”

Despite himself, Tony laughed. “I don’t think so, kiddo.”

Peter was chained in a similar position as Tony was, kneeling on the damp cement with his wrists chained behind him.

“So,” Peter started, his fear seeping into his tone, “they, uh, they know about Spider-Man.”

Tony’s blood froze in his veins. “What?”

“The cuffs - I can’t break them. And when I was trying to run, they didn’t even try and fight me. They said something about how “not even my little secret” could get me out of this.”

Tony didn’t trust his voice, so all he did was nod. He needed to keep calm because Peter needed to keep calm.

That went down about as well as anything in his life.

Because not long after the billionaire had woken up the metal door opened with a screech that made both Tony and Peter wince.

Two hours, five at most, Tony reminded himself.

Peter met his eyes, giving him an almost imperceptible nod and smile. Tony tried to do the same, but his focus was pulled away from the teenager by the (he assumed) leader of whatever this was using his cane to force Tony’s head up and at him.

“I like this look on you, Stark,” he rasped, pushing the cane further into his jaw. “You don’t normally see such powerful men on their knees.”

Tony swallowed against the pressure against his throat and merely stared at the man, not giving the man the dignity of getting a response out of him.

He was in his late sixties it looked like, like he should be too old to be kidnapping inventors and their interns. Salt and pepper hair, a limp, thus the cane, nice suit, aged face, crystal blue eyes. He looked like he liked power too.

“No snarky retort? I’m disappointed, I’ve heard you’re usually a delight in these situations.” Tony held his gaze steady. “Is it because I’ve you at a disadvantage? Very well, let me introduce myself; my name is Robert Canvase, and I’m very interested in having a conversation with you Mr.Stark.”

He was aware of Peter watching the exchange with bated breath, and he thanked whoever was above that the teen was also keeping himself quiet.

“I want to hear your voice,” the man knelt down to Tony’s level, releasing his chin roughly. “I want you to give me the time of day I deserve, getting all this together for you. Tony Stark, the most powerful man in the world they say, having to answer to me.”

So that’s the kind of game this man wanted to play.

Tony didn’t say anything.

“Come now, I so acutely wanted to avoid desperate measures.” Robert stood and walked away from Tony, smirking when he felt his captive tense, the chains rattling tellingly. He was looking directly at the boy-hero now. “Will you talk with me, Peter Parker?”

The boy couldn’t hide his fear the way his mentor could, Robert could all but smell it, but he’d certainly mastered Mr.Stark’s defiant stare.

“‘Spider-Man’ seems a bit generous, don’t you think? Why, you’re just a child.” Robert approached the teen like a predator playing with its food.

Peter couldn’t hold the man’s gaze like Tony could, he broke eye contact and sought Tony’s reassuring gaze.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberated throughout the room. Tony jerked in his chains, instinct forcing him forwards, and he bit his lip to keep himself from shouting out.

“Don’t look away from me boy.” Peter’s eyes found Robert’s again, wide and shocked. “You are very important to Mr.Stark, aren’t you?”

No, Tony thought, no, no, no, no, no, please don’t; not because of me.

“Answer me boy!” Peter felt the second slap just as sharply as he did the first time, this time he couldn’t hold back a small grunt.

“No,” Peter whispered, his gaze dropping. “No, I’m just a kid from Queens.”

The cane struck Peter’s temple, the teen fell forward with a grunt. Tony’s chains jerked again.

“Do not lie to me, I know who you are, I know what you are, and I know that you are not ‘just’ anything.”

“He supplies Spider-Man, he has nothing to do with Peter Parker,” Peter lied.

“If I cannot have an honest conversation with Stark himself, I will cut the truth from your young mouth,” he hissed. For one terrifying moment Robert was advancing on Peter before-

“You don’t need to do that,” Tony’s voice boomed through the room. “We can talk.”

Canvase smiled. “Aha! He speaks.” Peter watched the man retreat, his cheek throbbing.

He was so confused, what did this man want? Why go to all this trouble just to talk with Tony? How did he know who he was?

“Yeah, so say your bit and we can get this over with, okay?” Peter recognized that tone, Mr.Stark was being The Tony Stark right now, he only ever heard that voice when he was at a press conference or talking to a business colleague he didn’t like.

“Don’t rush me Stark, I think we all know I’ve you at more than one disadvantage.” Tony’s traitorous eyes flickered to Peter.

He quirked one eye as if to say, “Proceed.”

“I was a powerful man once too, you know,” Robert started. “Your father and I knew each other, personally, if that is any indicator.”

Tony scoffed, of course this guy knew his dad.

“I had quite a substantial bank account, putting it modestly. Nothing near yours of course, but I digress… Do you know what most of my fortune hinged upon, what my trade was?”

Tony had a guess.

“Weapons.”

“Clever boy. Yes, I needed the weapons’ trade to flourish in order to flourish myself. I’m sorry to be so insensitive, but Obadiah Stane was a genius in orchestrating that kidnapping in Afghanistan. Not only would he have gotten what he wanted, the war would have raged for years to come after they killed someone like you.”

Robert paced, the rhythmic clang of the cane echoing with each step.

“And instead you came back with that thing in your chest, and some noble, foolish notion in your head to destroy the empire your father built you.”

“My father built me an empire that profited from murder. I built my own that reflected the legacy I wanted.”

“Ungrateful brat, you built your empire on your father’s money. I didn’t lose everything, but I certainly lost enough that I’m rather angry at you Mr.Stark.”

“Men like you should be brought down every now and again.”

“Men like me enjoy getting what they want. Regaining my fortune is no longer possible for me, so how do I get the next best thing, do you think?

“I wouldn’t know, I try not to get too far into the mind of crazies like you.”

“Then I shall make things easy for you. All I need from you, Mr.Stark, is your attention.” Tony felt a jolt of pure, palpable fear run through his veins.

Please, he wanted to say, don’t.

“Bring my gift,” Robert commanded, casting a half glance towards one of his lackeys. One of the men left the cell, while the other two approached the kid, his kid.

“I thought we were having a conversation,” Tony called, “you were so keen before!”

Peter’s chains were unlocked but his cuffs were not. The two men hefted him up by the arms, the teen’s legs kicking wildly. Tony was just about to shout again when Peter found his proper footing and landed a kick square against one of his captor’s chests.

The man was forced back several feet, not given enough time to react before Peter was twisting around his free hand and shoulder-checking the second guard. They charged him once recovered but Peter was ready, ducking and rolling and dodging at exactly the right times, still a force to be reckoned with, even with his arms restrained. He grunted when one of the men caught him around the middle, quickly readjusting and forcing his momentum backwards,, kicking out both his legs - the partner hit the wall with the force of the blow.

Tony let himself hope that this crazy, stupid, brave boy was going to get them out of here.

Peter collapsed in the next second, convulsing like he had on the sidewalk.

The inventor’s wild eyes found Robert’s, who was watching him with sadistic glee and a remote control in his hand.

“Stop.” Tony meant to shout but it came out little more than a whisper.

Peter convulsed for a few more seconds and then fell still, panting. His head lulled languidly towards Tony, his eyes shining with something foolish, like trust.

“Electric cuffs; do you like them Mr.Stark?”

Tony only glared.

“Ah, well, we’re back to this I see. You do enjoy being frustrating, don’t you?”

Nothing.

“Well, never mind then. But here is the crux of the matter, if I can’t regain what I lost then I can sure as Hell make sure you suffer for making me lose it.”

Peter laughed. It startled both men, because it was so abrupt but it was definitely there. He was laughing. “Yeah,” the teenager chuckled, “you’ve lost it alright.”

“Peter…” Tony admonished instinctively. Peter grinned at him, and it was so out of place in this damp, dark, cold prison they found themselves in.

“No, no, like father like son, right?” Robert began walking to where Peter was collapsed on the floor.

“Mr.Stark isn’t my father,” Peter tried defending, a ball of unease forming in his stomach. He was ignored.

Peter watched as their captor knelt next to him. “If I were to propose something to you, would you be open to it?”

Tony’s breaths began to pick up their pace, his eyes dilating in silent fear. This could go a few ways. Peter’s own gaze flickered to his mentor and then back to Robert.

“Depends on what your offer is,” he finally intoned.

“Oh it’s simple really, in a moment my colleague will walk through that door. You simply have to take what he gives you and use it on Tony Stark, and if you do, I’ll let you go, without a scratch on your young head.”

He reached for Peter’s curls, the teen jerked his head away, glaring daggers at the man in front of him.

Robert hummed before continuing, “my gift was made for you, technically, but I believe it will work on him just as well, if not better. So what do you say?”

“He’ll do it!” Tony interjected before either Peter or Robert could continue. “He’ll do it.”

“Do not speak for your son, Stark,” Robert snarled, lashing out his hand and curling them in Peter’s hair. “Give me an answer, boy. Will you accept my proposal?”

Peter spat in his face.

The door screeched open, sending a metallic taste into the air. The man was back and he was holding something, a little wooden box. Peter began panting, his danger receptors screaming at him to get away.

“Give it to me,” Robert hissed, wiping away the saliva angrily. His lackey approached, handing his boss a syringe filled with something that glittered dangerously.

Tony jerked in his chains. “What is that? What is it!” Peter’s eyes were blown to all Hell, he was scared and his senses were telling him just how dangerous it was. “No - don’t! Don’t! I’ll take it, I’ll take it!”

Robert jammed the syringe into his kid’s neck, the teenager, God he was just a teenager, gasped like all the air had been ripped from his throat.

Blood was dripping down the cuffs, but Tony didn’t care because Peter was soon clawing at the ground, floundering, looking for some kind of relief that he couldn’t provide.

“What did you do!”

Robert smirked, took his cane and swung it into Peter’s abdomen. The boy shrieked, curling in on himself and tucking his head against his chest, his features scrunched up in pain.

“It’s a neurotransmitter Stark, specifically one that amplifies his pain reception. It’s especially effective on spiders, though I’d wondered if it would be so effective on an unenhanced individual such as yourself. So, on his own he’s in pain, but add any kind of stimulus that would have registered as painful before?” He struck Peter again, the boy gave one of those awful sounding gasps again and whimpered. “It reaches a new threshold.”

Tony watched Peter’s face, wet with his tears and the beginnings of an awful sweat, the inventor didn’t realize he was crying too.

“Now sit back and relax, Stark. You’re in for a show.”

The cane cane down again, and again, and again.

Peter was screaming - absolutely howling - while Tony screamed his throat raw, begging Canvase to stop, to hurt him instead, bargaining with him while tears leaked down both father and son’s cheeks.

“Please! Please! I can give you whatever you want, however much you want, it’s yours! Just-” A particular hard blow, Peter’s screaming began to turn raw and torn. “Just stop hurting him!”

Canvase paused for a moment, panting with exertion, his eyes wild and sadistic. It was like someone had pushed pause on the room, soon the only sounds were Peter’s quiet sobs (he’d tried so hard to repress them) and Robert’s breathing. Even Tony dare not make a sound for he was afraid that any noise would end this little reprieve they had.

“This is not about money,” their tormentor laughed breathlessly, “I’m not letting you so easily buy your way out of this.”

Peter was bruised, he was bleeding, and he was terrified.

Everything hurt, so much, and he knew he should try to be quiet, because it upset Mr,Stark, but everything hurt so much.

“He’s a child,” Tony begged, “he’s just a child. At least let him rest.”

Two hours. Five at most.

Robert didn’t say anything, he merely knelt down next to the teenager’s curled up back and slid a hand down it. Peter flinched violently, eyes snapping open and widening, finding Mr.Stark’s stare instantly.

Mr.Stark looked absolutely wrecked.

“I’m okay, Mr.Stark,” he mouthed, trying his best to form a smile through the pain. Something broke behind Tony’s eyes, but he nodded and tried to grin back.

And then another shriek tore its way through Peter’s throat, because Robert had cut him. The man displayed the pocket knife to Tony triumphantly, smirking as he let the blade rest against Peter’s skin and began slowly slicing his way to his shoulder.

The teen let out another shriek, scrambling to get away. He couldn’t of course, Robert was holding him there with his other hand, and the boy was much too weak to resist.

“Stop it!” Tony’s heart was breaking in his chest, splintering every time Peter cried out. “Stop it! He’s a child! He doesn’t deserve this, please…”

Slice, slice, slice, slice, slice.

Peter was sure he was going to die, the pain was so awful. The worst thing was he knew it shouldn’t be, he felt so weak screaming about a little cut, he could take so much more. But right now, he couldn’t.

Tony had evidently given up on begging, “Peter, Peter look at me. Look at me Bud, that’s it. It’s going to be okay, I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

Tony held Peter’s watery stare with all the conviction he could muster in his own.

“Oh Mr.Stark, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Robert taunted, taking a step away from the teenager and admiring his handiwork. He gestured to one of the lackeys, who promptly gave him a flask, he took a quick sip and returned his attention to Tony. “It’s always a good idea to stay hydrated, yes?”

Tony had no more dignity, he nodded obediently.

“You a brandy or a whiskey man?”

“Whiskey,” Tony replied immediately. The longer he kept Robert talking the longer Peter had to recover.

“Pity, this is brandy.” Robert poured the liquor over Peter’s sores.

Peter’s screams reached a new height, inhuman screeches giving way to sobs.

“Mr.Stark!” Peter didn’t know why he called his mentor’s name, and he knew he’d regret it later, but in the moment he couldn’t stop. “Mr.Stark! Mr.Stark! Mr.Stark!”

Tony’s heart was shattering, his soul was dying, and he couldn’t do anything.

“It’s okay Peter! Breathe baby, just breathe. I’m going to take care of you, I’ll take care of you, you’ve just got to hold on. You’re so brave kid, God, you’re so strong,” Tony sobbed.

Peter’s screams eventually died down into pitiful whimpers, Robert seemingly content enough to just watch that spectacle and not add anything else into it.

When it became apparent that the torture was over Peter finally lost consciousness, his whole body going lax save its sporadic twitches. Tony watched the rise and fall of his chest like it was his life-line (it was). He didn’t even notice Robert approaching him, not until the cane forced his head away from his kid.

“It’s still a good look on you Stark,” the man smirked, wiping away one of Tony’s tears with faux gentleness. “I like it even more with you well and truly broken. Tony Stark, the most powerful man in the world, begging me like a dog.”

“Did you get what you wanted from this,” Tony hissed, jerking his head away from the cane.

“Tenfold, Mr.Stark. Now excuse me, I have a meeting. I’ll be back later for some more fun. Do make sure his heart doesn’t stop, yes?” Robert smirked and his captive’s watery glare and exited the room with an air of aristocratic arrogance, like the cane he was standing on wasn’t covered in a teenager’s blood.

Two hours, five at most.

“We’re going to be okay Peter.”

Somewhere outside an explosion rocked the warehouse, and then the sound of a rainstorm of bullets.

“We’re going to be okay.”

Eeeeeee it’s finally summer hols and I can go back to writing about the things I want to write about! like our suffering irondad and spiderson! Yay! Don’t hesitate to drop some asks in my inbox, Lord knows I need them right now.

Tag list:

@just-the-daydreamer @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @ladyreyreigns @thetranslucentwallaby @friendly-neighborhood-ash @delphinium2 @the-persian-slipper @shoyzz-art @four-am-fangirling @steamypanda @mysterio-is-a-little-bitch @my-name-is-marcy

#irondad #irondad fanfiction #whump #tw torture #tw blood #hurt peter parker #protective tony stark #peter parker and tony stark #not st*rker #not ship #anon ask #prompt #send me anything #writing

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geekygee01 · 5 years ago

Text

A Thousand Years

Skin and Bones

Characters: Reader, Thor, Loki, Frigga, some minor oc’s

Pairings: Thor x Reader, (possible) Loki x reader

Warnings: Slight violence, ‘punishment’, rape/noncon/dubcon

Chapter Summary: It has finally arrived, your wedding night, you learn Thor is as boorish as imagined, and an insatiable man. He is one who likes to be in control of everything, so when you slip out for a morning stroll you only serve to anger him more. Though you never could have imagined the consequences that befell a simple walk through the palace.

Word Count: 2135

-----------------------------

“You do not get to tell me what to do you insolent little girl!” he snaps “I have been waiting a long time for this. It’s about time I teach you a lesson in respect!” with those words he tears your nightgown right off your body and throws you across the spacious mattress. “You will learn your place, even if it takes me years to teach you.”

You try to crawl to the other side of the bed and put some distance between you but he grabs your ankle and drags you back to him so that your bottom half is basically hanging off the bed. You hear him undressing behind you before a strange whistling noise…

Thwack

Something hard whips into the backs of your legs, you scream out and try to pull away but he just holds on tighter and whips you again. You turn and look over his shoulder to see him holding his thick leather belt over his head. This time when he brings it down it hits your bare ass.

“Maybe you will remember this the next time you feel the urge to speak out of turn!” he brings the leather down against you at least five times in rapid succession and your struggling starts anew, “it seems as if you aren’t learning any lessons from this.” This time he aims it across your back, the buckle hitting a notch of your spine, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your screams but you can’t hold them back anymore.

He continues his punishment until you are a sobbing mess on the mattress, shaking and apologising over and over.

The hand on your ankle disappears but you don’t move a muscle, too sore and fearful of retribution. When his hand returns to your body it’s to rub some sort of salve over your back, thighs and butt. A cooling sensation replaces the burning pain and you let out a sigh of relief, it’s short-lived as Thor flips you over onto your back and looms over you naked as the day he was born. He braces himself over you, fingers curled into fists on either side of your head.

“Now to make a woman of my wife.”

Your fists pound uselessly against his bare and chiselled chest “Please stop! Haven’t you done enough!?”

He lifts one hand to graze along your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “Hush now little one,” he croons.

You pull your face away from his hand and look to the side of the room, fighting the urge to bite at his fingers or spit in his face. You would rather not find out what he does to violent, insolent girls. His hand leaves your face, trailing down your body before gripping your thigh and lifting it around his hip. You freeze in place and brace yourself for the inevitable pain that will follow your coupling.

Thor chuckles against you “oh, don’t worry little one, I promise to make this good for you.” His hand releases your leg and finds its way to your unclothed core, brushing softly against the hair between your legs. His thumb grazes something, brushing along a part of you that makes you gasp.

Thor directs a smug grin down at you before pressing down a bit harder, causing your hands to clench at your sides as you hiss in pleasure. You do not want to enjoy any part of this, especially not to such a brute of a man, but your body is betraying you. At his every touch you feel such magic thrum within your veins. His fingers dance through your folds and his lips blaze a fiery trail along your body and you are flying, you have never felt anything like this before.

His mouth makes it way between your legs causing you to shoot upright in shock, but he just places a firm hand on your stomach and pushes you back down, mouth latching onto that special part of you that makes your body sing. With his mouth preoccupied, his fingers find their way to your entrance, one slipping in easily to your dismay. He crooks it just so and suddenly you are not flying anymore, no you are falling. You are falling fast and hard though you do not know what to make of it.

The new feeling makes your body seize, your vision is white but somehow also colourful, a myriad of thought and feelings swirl through your brain but you can’t catch onto a single one of them at this point in time.

Once you come back to yourself you notice Thor’s face above yours yet again, a smug grin marred by your own juices “nothing like the face of a woman cumming.”

Your eyes widen at the use of such vulgar words but are distracted from responding by the realisation that he has slipped more fingers into you. Thor groans as you unwittingly clench around his fingers, he pulls them out and replaces them within his mouth, sucking them clean with darkened eyes and a feral grin.

His hips are nestled by yours, his legs stretching your thighs to make room for himself within your grasp. He lays a filthy kiss upon your neck as his… his manhood lays upon your womanly area.

“Is someone’s pretty pussy desperate for my cock?” he grins and moves the head of his… cock through the lips of your… pussy. Coating it in residual wetness before notching at your opening. You expect him to inch within you, taking your maidenhood as his and laying claim to your body.

Instead, he pulls away. You think maybe he’s going to make you return the favour, but before you can question him he’s sliding home in your body. Breaking through your barriers with one painful, forceful thrust.

You let out an ear-piercing scream, tears prick at your eyes as he carves a place for himself with no mind for your comfort. He pulls back slowly, whistling at something he must-see.

“So the wild little one did save herself for me. That’s good, less trouble for you,” you shift your head to see what he’s talking about. Nausea filling your stomach as you take in his blood-covered cock.

You lay your head back into the pillows, turning it so that you may bite into one to ground yourself from this pain. You resign yourself to the ever-clear fact that the first part of this was for your pleasure, and now… well, now it is all about his.

…

You rise with the sun, barely peeking out from behind some faraway mountains. You slip carefully from the large bed, so as to not disturb the snoring figure of your new husband. You find the robe provided to you by the servants last night and slip it over your shoulders, glad you didn’t wear it last night else it may have met the same fate as your slip. As you make your way over to his balcony you can feel the evidence of last nights’ activities between your thighs. You’re no expert, but even to your limited experience it seems like a lot to come from one man, though he’s not a man, he’s a god, and they probably don’t call him God of fertility for nothing.

You stand in the brisk breeze with pretty bird calls aiding in your attempts at relaxation while you watch the slow rising of the warm sun. You may be far away from home, but as you watch the sunrise, you know back home your mother and Edrice would be watching the same sun together over breakfast, hopefully thinking of you as you are of them.

Sooner than you’d like the spendings between your thighs gets too uncomfortable for you to stay and enjoy the early morning peace. You tiptoe to the adjoining bath-chambers to give yourself a thorough wipe down, not risking a bath in case the sound of running water awakens Thor. Once you're as clean as can be given the circumstances you head to the chamber doors, popping your head out to see if you can catch a servant and ask for a dress. None of your things have been brought to the room as of yet, whether by negligence or Thor’s insistence, you do not know.

////////////

You wrap the overly fancy shawl tighter around your shoulders, it’s a lot cooler than you anticipated, so used to year-round warmth this chilly breeze is an unwelcome change. But at least the hustle and bustle of the marketplace serves as a pleasant distraction to the cold weather and colder husband, vendors line the streets selling all manners of things. From fresh fruits, exquisite jewellery, the latest in fashions and even one that seems to be a menagerie of exotic animals.

You stop by the aforementioned animal stall and take in all the creatures. The poor things seem to be very agitated, there’s one tiny cage with three odd furry creatures standing on their hind legs. Inside small vials are what appear to be small colourful fish, there are birds of all shapes sizes and colours, frogs, snakes, odd-looking babies that look like cougars as well as wolf-like pups and so much more. None of them look happy or comfortable and it breaks your heart, you wish you had money to buy them all away from this horrible life.

But alas, all you have are the clothes on your back and some wildflowers you picked along your way here. You make eye contact with a funny little cougar, the only one not hissing or rubbing up against the small bars of its cage. You place your hand by its head and it slowly inches forward, rubbing itself against you as best it can.

“Hello there little one,” you coo “do you feel as trapped as I do? Probably more so, at least I’m not in a physical prison.”

The vendor seems to finally pick up on your presence and moves closer to you with a slimy grin “I see you have noticed one of my cats,” cat? Must be similar to the cougars you have back home “they’re mostly from the planet Midgard, an abundance of them there, like bunnies, which they also have.” He laughs at what he must think is a funny joke but you just go back to scratching the cat.

“You want?”

“I haven’t any money on me,” you sadly admit.

“For the future Queen, pfft, free. You just tell everyone where you got him, and be sure to visit me again soon. You could always come buy him a friend,” you smile at the suggestion, not because you want to help him in any way, but because you want all these animals to be rescued as soon as possible.

As soon as you’re away from the vendor you take your new friend out of his tiny prison, he purrs gratefully as you hold him in your arms “I shall never lock you away again little one,” you whisper into the scruff of his neck. “Now how do you feel about baths? You are a dirty boy.”

….

He never gets that bath. The moment you’re in the courtyard of the palace one of your ladies maid’s is rushing towards you in a frenzy. Babbling on about sneaking out, the royal family panicking and something about big trouble.

“Slow down Mysandrei, you’ll work yourself into a stupor.”

“Sorry, m’ lady. I thought it best to mention the worry the royal family felt upon noticing you missing. And the rage that Prince Thor flew into," she takes a deep breath as prompted and slowly calms down.

You hand off your new little friend to Mysandrei before rushing into the palace and nearly run straight into the Queen, flanked by her sons and some servants.

“Sorry my Queen,” you apologise quickly.

“Would this apology be for almost knocking the Queen over or for all the worry you caused the palace?” Loki drawls, though his mother is quick to scold him.

“No, it’s alright. He’s right. I’m sorry for both. I didn’t mean to worry anyone or sneak out. I just went for a stroll and didn’t want to wake anyone. I let some maids know where I’d be going but this is my fault. I should have said something instead of relying on another to spread my message,” you rush out, taking in their responses. Loki looks amused and Frigga looks relieved, it’s Thor’s reaction you’re worried about. You quickly glance towards him and take in his thunderous expression.

Frigga starts to wave off your apology and tell you that it’s alright but Thor is already by your side and dragging you away, giving some excuse of talking to you in private about proper etiquette. Though you fear there won’t be much talking.

#dark!thor #thor x reader #dark!thor x reader #thor #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #loki x reader #loki #xreader #reader insert #marvel #marvel reader #arranged marriage #forced marriage

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wldthoughtz · 6 years ago

Text

Pain.

Seth Rollins (Angst/Fluff)

“This is not fucking fair!” Seth yelled loudly as he paced back and forth in front of the crate I was sitting on.

“Seth,” I sighed with an exasperated breath as I crossed my legs and rested my palms on either side of me.

“Don’t you dare ‘Seth’ me!” He snarled stopping dead in his tracks. “A three on one handicap match is not fair! Especially not after you just got back 2 weeks ago! And with the Riot squad!? Those chicks are insane, and they cheat! You’re going to get killed out there! What was Hunter thinking!?” He groaned angrily as he ran a hand through his soaking hair.

“First of all, you need to calm down! This is not the first three on one match ever, I’m a wrestler Seth this is what I do, and it sure as hell doesn’t matter if it’s the Riot squad!” I yelled out as I hopped off the crate. “Yes, I did just get back 2 weeks ago… but it was after being away for 4 months. Hunter put me in this match out of everyone else in this locker room because he believes in me which is more than I can say for you right now!” I snapped at him angrily.

Seth was furious as he marched over to me and wrapped his hands around my arms. “Believe in you!? He doesn’t give a damn about you, he only cares about the money he’s going to make off this match!” He snarled down at me. “You’re the most popular female superstar in the whole roster! He’s going to throw you in that ring just so you can get hurt again! I mean come on we all know you’re not as good as you used to be!” He growled.

My breath caught in my throat as the words left his mouth. His angry eyes boar into mine was he waited for me to respond. “Fuck you,” I breathed out pushing hard at his chest and watching him hold his chest as stumble back away from me. I felt anger and rage consume me as I glared at him. “If I was just good, I wouldn’t still be here! If was just good I wouldn’t be Woman’s champion right now, for the 6th time! If I was just good, I wouldn’t be the best female superstar on the brand! And if I was just good, I wouldn’t be one of the highest payed female athletes and make twice the amount of money that you do!” I yelled angrily at him. “So, no I’m not good… I was never just good…I’m m*thrfucking great!” I yelled at him watching a stunned look cross his face as his hand rested on the area of his chest where I had pushed him. The sound of loud clapping broke through the tense air causing us both to break eye contact and turn to find Baron Corbin down the hall walking towards us.

“Well said princess,” Baron called out loudly, still distanced from us.

I glanced back at Seth and felt my emotions overpowering me. I felt my eyes beginning to water and clenched them tightly to hold back any tears. Before opening them and catching a stern look on Seth’s face as he watched Baron come closer.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered softly as I swiped angry at a tear that managed to slip down my cheek. His head immediately turned to me at the sound of my voice and he watched me with confused eyes.

“What are you talking about?” He asked in an unamused tone as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Bab-” He was quickly cut off my Baron who wrapped his arm around my shoulder confidently.

“What’s this? The power couple of WWE are fighting?!” Baron asked in fake shock as his hand toyed with the strap of my ring top.

Seth glared daggers at Baron when his hand trailed down my side and fell on my bare waist, where his thumb slipped up the band below my breasts. “Get your hand off of her,” he growled menacingly.

Baron let out a chuckle as he moved his hand away from me and lifted them up in mock defense.

“Relax Rollins, I’m just messing with ya,” he smirked, turning to eye me up and down, before turning back so Seth. “She always looks amazing in her ring gear, doesn’t she?” He asked teasingly.

Seth’s eyes were dangerous as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on before walking over and taking my hand to pull me behind his back. “Keep your eyes and hands off my woman Baron,” he growled harshly.

Just as Baron was about to speak, the alarm on my phone went off signaling I only had 5 minutes before my match. Both men watched me as I silenced the alarm before placing it back into the band of my ring gear. With a soft sigh I began walking away without saying a word to either of them. “Wait!” Seth called out making me roll me eyes as I continued walking towards gorilla.

I heard him jogging and suddenly felt my arm being pulled back softly, causing me to stop and turn to him. “What um, what did you mean back there?” He asked rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.

I shook my head at him in disbelief at the fact that he hadn’t even apologized for the hurtful words he said. I let out a soft sigh as I felt my emotions creeping up again. “Seth I can’t be with someone who doesn’t believe in me… and I can’t be with someone who thinks that I’m not good enough.” I breathed out sadly, pulling my hand away from him, watching a look of horror crossed his face.

“What?! Baby-” As soon as the words left his mouth Baron’s large arm came down on his shoulder. “Baron I swear I’m going to fuck you up right now!” He growled turning the push Baron hard against the wall causing them to break out into a fist fight.

Shaking my head, I glanced at them once more before walking towards Gorilla with watery eyes and a heavy heart.

I made it to the curtain just as Finn walked in with a bright smile and his championship in hand. “Hey Las!” He smiled brightly.

“Hey Finn, Congratulations on your match.” I smiled softly, loving the positivity that radiated off his body.

“Thanks, darlin,” His bright smile dropped into a small frown as he stopped in front of me. “Hey are you alright?” He asked, his face full of concern.

“Yeah I’m good,” I breathed out sending him a small smile. I felt a hard bump against my shoulder that sent me forward into Finn, who wrapped his arms around me, preventing me from falling.

“Watch it!” He growled out. A glare grew on my face as I saw Ruby, Liv, and Logan laugh as they walked past us just before their music blast through the arena.

You’re going to get killed out there, He doesn’t give a damn about you, we all know you’re not as good as you used to be… Seth’s words replayed in my mind over and over as I watched them walk out with smirks on their faces. I felt a tear glide down my cheek feeling the ache in my heart with each word.

“Hey, Hey, Hey. Darlin why are you crying?” Finn asked softly as he wrapped his arms tighter around me.

I let out a shaky breath before glancing up at him, seeing him watch me with a worried look. “S-Someone said I’m not a good wrestler anymore and I know it shouldn’t let it affect me… but it hurt a lot,” I whispered softly, biting down on my lip to keep me from crying.

“That’s complete and utter bullshit darlin! You’re one of the best superstars on this roster! Anyone who says you’re not good clearly doesn’t know what in the bloody hell they’re talking about! I mean seriously you’ve main evented over 50 times and you even main evented WrestleMania! Don’t let words hold you back darlin, you were meant to be here, and you prove that every day that you step into that ring.” He stated confidently with a bright smile.

Finn’s words filled me with pride, as I thought about all of the accomplishments that I had been able to achieve in my career so far. A huge smile grew on my face as I looked up at Finn. “Thanks Finn, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I said with a sigh.

“No need to thank me darlin, just go out there and kick their ass,” He smiled brightly as he stepped back away from me.

“You got it!” I smiled at him before walking towards the mirror to fix my smudged make up,

I sent Finn another smile as I walked up to the curtain, a small gasp left my lips when I felt Finn turn me around by my waist, so I was pressed up to him. I looked up and caught sight of his desire filled eyes as his hand slid softly down my side, grazing my skin before he slid my phone out of the band of my ring shorts. “Oops,” I whispered softly.

His eyes were still trained on me as he stepped away, clutching my phone in his hand. “Go annihilate them darlin,” He smirked as my music blasted through the arena.

I sent him a smile before turning and walking. I was immediately hit with deafening sound of cheering from the crowd. A huge smile grew on my face as I looked around and saw everyone in the arena on their feet and cheering. A little girl held up a sign with my name that read, ‘she’s the best of the best.” Seeing similar signs scattered across the arena and seeing a large part of the crowd sporting my merch made me heart soar.

I ran up and slid into the ring before climbing up to the top rope and doing my signature back-flip, hearing the loud cheers and applause echo through the stadium. I glanced around the ring and noticed the three girls circling the ring like vultures and an unfamiliar feeling grew in the pit of my stomach…it was doubt.

______________________________________________

Seth’s POV

“Seth Stop!” Dean yelled in my face as he and Roman held me pinned to the wall, keeping me away from Baron who was being held back by Drew and Bobby.

“Seth man you need to calm down! He’s not worth it!” Roman tried to reason as both him and dean struggled to hold me back.

“You don’t deserve her Rollins!” Baron grunted out at me as he tried shoving the two bulky men off of him. “You’re not man enough for her! You’re only holding her back! She needs a real man like me!” He snarled.

I felt red hot rage surge through my veins, I didn’t just want to hurt Baron anymore I wanted to kill him. “Get the fuck off me!” I growled and with a hard lunge I was free, and my fist were flying once again all over Baron face. The shouts and tugs on me became a blur as I watched my fists collide over and over with Corbin’s face. Suddenly I was lifted off up of Corbin, as I was being pulled away, I kicked my foot hard and heard a loud crack echo through the corridor.

I was slammed hard against the wall again but this time by Braun who easily held me back. “Listen here Rollins! Your girl is out there about to give the best performance of the night and you’re back here rolling around the ground with this weasel!?” He barked loudly into my face as he motioned to Baron. “You should be out there supporting her! Just like she does for you every single night!” He barked in my face.

His words suddenly turned my rage into worry and regret as I glanced at Roman and Dean who nodded in agreement with Braun. Looking past them, I saw Baron on the ground, holding his now bleeding nose as Drew and Bobby led him down the hallway. “You’re right,” I breathed out softly. He scoffed as his hands let me go and without a word, I walked right past all of them and made my way over to Gorilla.

The words she had said to me played over and over in my mind as I trudged down the hall. Seth I can’t be with someone who doesn’t believe in me… and I can’t be with someone who thinks that I’m not good enough. Had she broken up with me? I shook the horrible thought from my head but couldn’t escape the broken look that she had on her beautiful face as she had spoken those words. I had fucked up badly with everything I said to her… I know I did, but I had my reasons.

Glancing up as I reached the curtain my face went cold as I saw none other than Finn Balor standing there with her phone in his hand as he watched the monitor closely. I breathed in and out softly trying to contain myself as I walked up next to him.

“You fucked up,” He muttered as we both fixed our eyes on the screen. My eyes were glued on her as she moved across the screen, she looked absolutely beautiful just like she always did. She was on the top turnbuckle where she was always the most comfortable. Yet I saw a spark of hesitation in her eye before she jumped down onto the three girls who stood on the ground, knocking them all down. She must have landed wrong because I saw her roll over in pain as she clutched her abdomen.

“Of course she told you,” I huffed out unamused as I crossed my arms across my chest. Everyone knows that Finn’s always had a thing for her, in the past we had gone at it many times over her. I smiled because I’d been the one to come on top with the ultimate prize, her love. A frown made its way on my face though as again I thought about the words she spoke to me right before she walked out. Seth I can’t be with someone who doesn’t believe in me… and I can’t be with someone who thinks that I’m not good enough. Those words made it sound like a breakup…but I pray it wasn’t…because then Finn might actually get the chance that he’s always wanted… and I can’t lose her.

“She didn’t tell me.” He muttered, causing me to give him a confused side glance. He looked over at me with a stern look, “Her tears did.” He stated flatly watching me with a scowl as my head turned back to the screen sadly, the feeling of regret eating at my insides. The thought of her crying always made my heart ache and knowing that it was because of me was a direct knife through my chest. “She wouldn’t have cared if anyone else would’ve said that to her, she gets crap like that all the time... Truthfully, she’s one of the strongest women I know, which is why I know for a fact that only you could have an effect like that on her,” He stated harshly as he glared at me. His gaze went back to the screen and a wince crossed he face when he saw that two of the girls were holding her while the other kicked her stomach hard causing her to topple over in pain. I grimaced with worry as I took in the look of pain in her face as the camera zoomed in.

I let out a deep sigh as I glanced over at Finn then back at the screen, “I didn’t mean it man… I only said it because I wanted her to back out of the match tonight…” I breathed out. Finn and I let out a sigh of relief when we saw her kick out of the attempted pin. “I regretted everything as soon as I said it because I know none of it’s true. I just didn’t want her go out there…and I didn’t want her to get hurt again.” I breathed out softly. Clenching my teeth when I saw her hesitate once again on her jump before being pushed off the top rope and landing face first onto the mat hard.

Finn sighed and surprised me when he placed an arm on my shoulder as he turned to me. “Listen I know it must’ve been hard for you after she got hurt. You were the one that was there for her 24/7 while she recovered, and I understand that it must’ve hell for you to watch her go through that. But I know it was extremely hard for her. Especially coming back and having to try to start where she left off. She was at such a high in her career when that happened and now, she’s working so hard to get there again. Which is why those words are messing with her so much. She’s been working so hard because she wants to be where she was, but she can’t do that if the person she loves is doubting her.”

“…it was hard for her…she was always in so much pain that it would make her cry… and I fucking hated that I couldn’t take the pain away from her!” I muttered out through clenched teeth, thinking about the long gruesome months that she spent in pure pain and agony. “I was so worried when she told me the she was facing three girls, because I know that in a match like that anything can go wrong…especially with people who are dangerous and careless,” I mumbled out.

Finn sent me a small nod, “I know you were worried about her, but you should’ve just talked to her man, and told her how you felt.”

I let out a deep breath as I glanced back at him, “How do I tell her that I said all those hurtful things because I was scared and didn’t want her to go out there?” I asked him. “I don’t want her to think that I’m trying to control her or that I’m jealous and just trying to hold her back.” I sighed, my eyes bulged as I saw her suicide-dive and knock out all three girls.

“You tell her the truth! She could never be mad at you for caring about her.” He stated.

A long silence passed around us as we watched her being tossed out of the ring. “I just don’t want to see her in pain like that ever again,” I sighed watching the camera zoom in on her face of agony. Stupid camera guy.

“She’s not doing good out there… she hesitating and overthinking things too much. She needs to know that you believe in her, and she needs to know that she can do this. And she needs to hear it from you.” Finn stated squeezing my shoulder before removing his hand.

My heart dropped when I saw her thrown forcefully into the ring post and landing flat on the ground. “Fuck!” I gasped and without a second thought I was bursting out of the curtain causing a loud uproar from the crowd. The sound of my music echoed through the arena, Finn. The three girls scurried into the ring away from her as I shot them all glares before crouching down over her.

“Hey baby girl, what hurts?” I asked franticly as I pulled her into my arms.

“Everything,” She whimpered softly as she pushed herself into me. “You were right I can’t do this!” She mumbled shakily, and my heart lurched at the sight of her watery eyes.

“Fuck baby no! I’m so damn sorry! I didn’t mean anything that I said I was just fucking scared that you’d get hurt again,” I told her quietly watching her brows furrow. “I was just terrified of seeing you go through that pain again darling… But you’re fucking amazing baby and you got this! I know you do! You’re a fucking champ and I know you can do this, because you can do anything!” I stated watching a small smile grow on her face. “Now you get back in that ring and you kick their ass!” I yelled out, smiling when the crowd began to cheer.

She sent me a beautiful smile before pressing her lips hard to mine causing the crowd to erupt in cheers and whistles. She pulled away and scurried into the ring and breaking the refs count.

The match continued and it was clear to see confidence radiating off her body as she closed-lined the two girls off the ring side before turning and drop-kicking Ruby who ran toward her. She sent me a smile before she climbed up the ropes and did a perfect moonsault onto Ruby. She quickly covered her, 1…2…3!

“Fuck yeah! That’s my girl!” I yelled out slamming my hand on the mat as the arena went crazy. She quickly slid under the ropes over to me and jumped into my arms. “You did it baby!” She smiled at me brightly while I held her up in my arms as she held up her championship.

The three girls had scowls on their faces as they watched us walk up the ramp and make our way backstage.

Once we were backstage, her bright smile dropped as she jumped down from my arms.

Finn walked over and congratulated her before handing her, her phone and gave me a knowing look that clearly read, talk to her, I sent him a nod as I watched him walk away.

“Baby,” I called her quietly and watched her look up from her phone. “I’m really sorry for everything I said to you… I shouldn’t have said all those things to you because none of it’s true.”

I saw a frown grow on her face as she looked up at me, “then why did you say it?” She asked softly.

I let out a sigh before I took her hands into mine, “The truth is I was scared…I didn’t want you to go out there and because you were going into the ring with three reckless and uncaring girls that don’t care what they have to do to win. And I was fucking terrified that you’d get hurt again…” I breathed out shakily.

“Seth,” She sighed wrapping her arms around my neck while mine wrapped firmly around her waist. “You know that in our line of work there’s always going to be a chance that we could be hurt. And you know me… I don’t run from a fight no matter the situation.”

“That’s what terrifies me…” I whispered with sad eyes as I squeezed her waist. “When you got hurt, that was the worst time of my life. Because I hated that you were in so much pain and I couldn’t do anything to take it away…I just don’t want to see you go through that again.” A small smile grew on her face as she cupped my cheek.

I was taken by surprise when she leaned up suddenly and pressed her lips to mine. Within seconds I was kissing her back, dwelling in the feeling of her soft smooth lips moving softly against mine. After awhile she pulled away leaving us both breathless, “I’m sorry,” She breathed out causing me to scrunch my brows in confusion. “I’ve been so focused on me and getting back to the top. That I didn’t stop and think about how you were feeling…I mean you were the only one that was with me through the whole recovery process. You were there for me through all of the sleepless nights and painful therapy sessions. Thanks to you I’m back here, because you were the only one that never gave up on me.” She whispered sadly as she stroked my cheek. “I’m so sorry baby, I’m sorry for being so inconsiderate of your feelings,” I was stunned as I heard the words leave her mouth and I felt my eyes begin to gloss over.

“Fuck baby. You don’t have to apologize for any of that. You did the same thing for me when I injured my knee… And you know I would do anything and more for you in a heartbeat,” I stated as I pulled her tightly to my chest. “I’m so fucking sorry I said those horrible things to you baby, I should’ve just talked to you instead of being a complete asshole.” I mumbled pressing a kiss to her head.

“Yes, you should’ve talked to me, but I should’ve talked to you too. I forgive you… as long as you can forgive me.” She smiled up at me.

“Fuck yeah I forgive you princess! God I was so scared I’d lost you when you walked out of the curtain,” I sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You’re not going to lose me baby, you’re stuck with me now!” She smiled beautifully as I cupped her cheek.

“That’s perfectly fine with me!” I chuckled pressing a firm kiss onto her luscious lips, moaning at the sweet taste of cherry that lingered on her lips. I pulled away from her when I heard my name being called for my match. “I love you so damn much darling,” I sighed breathlessly as I watched her flash me her million-dollar smile.

“I love you more,” She giggled when I tickled her side.

“Not possible,” I chuckled watching her squirm in my arms.

“Yes poss-” She started but was cut off by Roman’s deep voice.

“Alright love birds that’s enough, but I’m glad to see you two made up. Seth wipe those googly eyes off your face, we got a match brother,” Roman smirked teasingly as he fastened his vest, while Dean chuckled as he laced up his boots.

I scowled at Roman before I heard a soft laugh leave her lips causing me to smile, turning back to her I placed a firm kiss on her lips, “Go to the trainer and get looked at yeah?” I asked softly as I stroked her cheek.

“Okay,” She smiled pulling away from me and taking my hand.

“Meet me after my match?” I asked stretching out my hand as her fingers slipped from mine as she walked backwards.

“If you win,” She replied with a teasing smile before tuning around and giving me a delicious view of her backside.

“You bet your sexy ass I will,” I called out to her with a huge smile on my face as I watched her hips sway effortlessly as she walked.

She glanced over her shoulder and sent me a sultry wink that caused me to let out a soft growl as I watched her sexy figure disappear around the corner.

“Now that ladies and gentlemen is a woman,” I heard Dean whistle behind me.

“Ambrose!” I growled charging for him when I saw him raise his eyebrows teasingly before taking off down the hallway towards our entrance spot. “Get back here so I can kick your ass,” I called out after him with a smile as I heard Romans booming laugh.

Like this? Check out my other Stories!

Mine: Roman Reigns (Smut)

“I got you baby”: Seth Rollins

Congratulations: Seth Rollins (Smut)

“She’s mine”: Seth Rollins/ Finn Balor

Believe: Finn Balor

Love: AJ Styles

Home: Finn Balor (Smut)

Promise: Seth Rollins

Your Girl: Finn Balor (Smut)

Hurt: Finn Balor

Man: AJ Styles

Ours: Finn Balor/Demon (Smut/Dark)

#WWE Fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe imagine #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins fanfiction #seth rollins fluff #seth rollins x reader

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