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johnkrrasinski · 4 years ago

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𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 4: Leaving Out the Side Door

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Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers (in future chapters) x Reader

Word Count: 2,325

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.

You were on your knees with your hands tied behind your back as he vigorously thrust into you. Your heartbeat pounded in your rib cage and you began to feel numb from the hours he had fucked you. Steve was relentless when he was chasing his own climax, greedily used you as a tool; giving zero fucks about your pleasure or your discomfort, to dump his load in.

Steve didn’t need to see your face or hear your consent. He could go on and on for hours and still not feel satisfied. One thing that you had learned from this being in this dead-end friends with benefits thing with Steve Rogers is that his stamina was relentless. And he wouldn’t think twice about getting what he needed whenever he needed it.

Steve impaled you as your face was squeezed into the pillow, you could hear the squelching noises from the ceaseless cycle of disposing his semen in you and then pushed it back in when he was ready for the next round. Your head began to feel dizzy and your visions turned hazy. You’d tell him to stop because you couldn’t take it anymore, but you knew you didn’t have any strength left in your body to do so.

So you ascended from your body and let him take the wheel; allowing him to go as fast as he wished. He kept hammering until he felt your cunt clenching around him and his cock pulsated, then the line blurred as the coil inside you burst, withering every nerve in your body.

“Ah, fuck.” He grunted. He stayed still inside you until he felt himself softening and then he retreated.

Steve unbound your wrists and he threw himself on the other side of the bed. You knew better than turning to his side and cuddle on his chest unwarranted. He always expected you to get up and get out of his house instantly because he either had another place to attend and didn’t want to see you still here when he comes home or he was ready for another hookup.

Every now and then, you’d let him use you to fulfil his needs and you’d volunteer in cleaning his apartment afterwards. Even after those countless nights where you weren’t the one who made a mess of his sheets.

Ever since that night in your dorm; the first time you were reborn into a blossomed woman and the first time Steve paved the way of traversing to the electric piquancy of venereal act for you, you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop letting him through your door or drive to his place at three in the morning just so he could let off some steam.

Every time you try to say no, he’d always pay you a visit unannounced. He’d paralyze you with his words and freeze you with his unchaste touches. “Shh, let me make you feel good, baby. You just gotta surrender yourself to me.”

You’d try to push him away but your brittle tenacity was unavailing. Fast forward to five years later, when you finally got your degree and life vagabondized to unexpected places, your sex life was still staying still in one spot.

You were recruited by National Institute of Mental Health as their project manager. You were possibly the youngest candidate to occupy this position but they were very impressed by your resume and your interview that they didn’t have any better choice than giving you the job.

You loved it, you excelled at what you do. Helping people and tending for their mental health was the aim of your life. You had a clear vision of how you were going to initiate a concept, plan a strategy and execute the plan. You respected your colleagues and vice versa. It was a suitable environment for you to work in and you enjoyed every minute of it.

Your best friend aka your former roommate, Natasha was your rock. You still talked to her everyday and she’d always text you in case she couldn’t call. You’d exchange stories about how your days went and she’d always send you pictures or videos of her adorable cat, Liho. It always carved a smile on your face.

The same goes for Wanda, although with her busy schedule of graduate school and supervised experience made things a little difficult for you to stay in touch, she still updated every nugatory detail of her life. You loved her and you missed her excruciatingly. You had driven to New Haven during some weekends to see her and spend time with her, but when the weekend was over, you had to return to New York because your job was waiting for you.

They were your two most endeared girls and you couldn’t wait for the day you finally introduce them to each other. Natasha and Wanda had said hi to each other a few times back when you were still living in the same dorm but, you really wanted to spend time with the two of them at the same time. They would totally click.

But if anyone asks you about your love life? Well, how could you explain something that was nonexistent?

Unless “friends” with benefit counts for something��

A bell on your apartment dinged and you reached for the door. A man in black with purple nuances uniform showed up with a package in his hands. “Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Here’s your delivery. Sign here please.” He handed you a piece of paper to draw your signature on and you accepted it without question, knowing full well it was another extravagant gift from Steve. Yep, that Steve.

The Steve Rogers.

A Brooklyn-born movie star of various blockbuster films, a remarkable singer and the face of Calvin Klein’s campaign this year… and Gucci Guilty’s last year.

The notorious womanizer but it was all good because he was the man. When you had starred alongside Leonardo DiCaprio and posed next to Oprah, who would give a shit if you never stopped playing the field, right?

And because he was The Steve Rogers, he could’ve spent his money on any lavish item and he could’ve put his dick wherever he wanted it. That included you, being the object of his wealthiness and his manliness.

How many times had you tried to reason with him when he constrained you to come over after a drunken hookup with a twenty-something model to clean up the mess and take out the trash? Perhaps just a few numbers exceeding the number of times he’d play the most charming man in the world only to forget your existence until he wanted you again.

So your feet innately transported you to your car, wearing the brand-new crimson red, bodycon dress with deep V-neck that displayed your cleavage, spaghetti straps baring your arms and a backless design that made you shiver due to the crisp air and drove to a place you had grown so accustomed to.

And this was the God knows how many times you were corrupted on his bed again. You had been so busy with your upcoming project that NIMH was ready to announce but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to resist the urge to come over to his place.

You stood on your wobbly feet, cleaned yourself up and see yourself out. Wouldn’t want to keep another mistress waiting in line…

Three weeks have passed since you last slept with Steve Rogers. Whispers on the streets chirped that he had been occupied with shooting a new film, erotic thriller slash mystery genre. Seems appropriate.

You yourself had been snowed under your work. The fundraiser event that NIMH was holding had been wearing you down but it was all worth it when the show was on. Negotiating with sponsorships, seeking donations and managing ticket sales were not easy, and it was all part of your responsibility because you were the boss, but you aced it anyway.

You were also responsible to hire professional entertainers and well, knowing that you got some connections to a well-known actor, of course, he was the first name on your list. But due to schedule conflicts, he couldn’t make it. It wasn’t a problem though, you still had a long list of names; film stars, movie producers, musicians, directors, moguls, etc.

You stood in your black sequin dress at the corner of the venue, inhaling all the sedulity and gumption you had invested in this event for the past couple of months. A part of you was secretly hoping that Steve would be here to see it, but you quickly eliminated those thoughts away.

9th-grade summer break. Upon the verdant hills overlooking the tranquil lake below; the moon’s faint glow ricochets on the water.

“What do you wanna be when you grow up, y/n?” his head reclined on his the palms of his hand, arms sprawled out like a butterfly’s wings.

“I wanna… Help people. My mom is a nurse and my whole life I watched her taking care of people she’d never met and I wanna have her big heart. I wanna do something that saves people.” you beheld the twinkling stars in the crepuscular sky, privily prayed that every word would come true.

“You wanna be a nurse like her too?” His eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know… Maybe I’ll host a charity event or something and then I’ll use all the money for those who need it. It looks cool in the movies.”

“When I make it, I’ll come to your event and help raise the money too! People would be interested in giving money to celebrities, right?” the credence glinted in his eyes.

“But the money will not be for you, doofus.”

“Yeah, I know!” he chided. “I wouldn’t take a single cent even if I could. My mom taught me that if I were given the chance to put others first before me… I should and I will respect her legacy.”

You watched the host and your project leader, Tony Stark stood behind the acrylic podium and he greeted the crowd a good evening. He opened his speech, cajoling the guests with his words to share a little bit of their wealth as many as possible and closed it with a cordial adieu.

You made your way to one of the most respected guests; Benjamin Woods was sitting on the fifth table. Two times Oscar nominee and you were jittery to talk to him, but in this line of work, you were trained to be confident and act like one of the elites. So you weren’t going to freak out like an obsessive fan, you gotta keep it cool and classy. Plus, during the briefing, you were told to fraternize with as many of the guest as possible, persuade them to help us reach the goal.

You had your eyes set on the target until you bumped on a six-foot man, spilling the martini in his hand all over your dress. It caused a few heads turning but that was the last thing you cared about right now. “Shit!” you squawked.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry miss.” a British accent was hinted.

You grabbed a napkin from the nearest table to wipe away the stain but of course, it was futile. He offered a hand by saying “here, let me help.”

“No, no it’s fine, I’ll-” you looked up to see a handsome man with a pair of grey, slightly blue and green fused at the core. His dark brown hair matched the stubble covering his entire jaw and you were captivated by the work of art that was his face. Man, what a gorgeous creature. “…Manage.”

“I’m truly sorry, I must really stop reading through my emails while walking.”

“Don’t worry about it, sir. It happens.”

“Can I at least get you a drink? I’d feel really bad if I don’t do anything to compensate for my error.”

You averted your gaze from him to the person you really wanted to talk to but that could wait. You still got a few more hours to properly introduce yourself. “Yeah, why not?”

“Splendid.” You both walked toward the bar and sat on the stools. The next thing you knew, you had spent the last one hour talking and acquainting with this man. Apparently, he was the executive director of Filmmakers Without Borders where funding films and new media projects that aligned with themes of social justice, empowerment and cultural exchange was the prime focus of his job. He believed that if he could support ideas that would make the world a better place, he’d do it without a second thought.

He was also a big traveler. He loved seeing magical places in foreign countries, he was keen on exploring new cultures and learning new languages even if he could only recollect a few basic words. He claimed that he had traveled to nine countries in Asia and he planned to travel across Europe, his so-called home, once he had conquered the omnifarious continent.

And what enthralled your heart the most about him was that he was a proud father of two adorable dogs; a greyhound and a pomeranian and a benign Siberian cat. He spoke about them so fondly. He showed you pictures of them and he said that he’d love for you to meet them. Oh man, was that a subtle invitation to come over to his place soon in the future?

He was a real gentleman, courtesy and multifaceted were the proper words to describe this man, and you had only known him for one hour. Eventually, duty calls and you still had a role to play in this event, but before you could hop off the stool, he had asked you for your number and you gladly gave it to him. You had a feeling that this wasn’t farewell but rather, an incipience. The question is… What could it be of?

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sablelab · 5 years ago

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Covert Operations - Chapter 130

SYNOPSIS: Jamie and Claire settle in to their tranquil accommodation hoping that this magical place will heal their memories of what happened to them both at the monastery.

Chapter 129 and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

THANK YOU so much to everyone reading and liking this story and for taking the time to send a reflective comment too.

Just a little note for any newbies about this story. James Fraser and Claire Beauchamp are covert operatives who work for the most clandestine anti-terrorist organisation on the planet …Section One. This story revolves around a mission set in Hong Kong about the Rising Dragons’ triad and its elusive leader Sun Yee Lok. Jamie and Claire’s mission is to capture this leader, and in so doing eradicate the triad and its stronghold on the underbelly life in Hong Kong. Their journey so far has taken them to various parts of Hong Kong and to Thailand where they have apprehended key members of the triad but not the leader.

This current scenario revolves around Claire being kidnapped and Jamie rescuing her from their captors. Unfortunately, both were incarcerated and tortured but they are now on the road to recovery away from the prying eyes of their superiors. So, while Section is ticking over in their absence, now is the time for them to relax, live, laugh and love in the beautiful Whitsunday Islands in Australia. I hope you all enjoy.

This chapter is a little suggestive.

CHAPTER 130 (S)

Having finished dinner, Claire stared at the beautiful starry night with a pleasantly full stomach. She could see the glow from several moored yachts and the illumination of some candles Jamie had scattered around outside on the patio added to the alluring atmosphere. It was a strange feeling to be here in Queensland so far away from Section One and alone on another continent for the both of them. Her heart was overflowing with intense feelings of contentment that she was here with the man she adored and the world could pass them by for all she cared.

Although they had eaten in the pleasure of each other's company before, there was something about tonight that was different. It was singular. This really was the perfect place for the two of them to be to recover from their past ordeals at the hands of the triad and particularly Jonathon Randall. The meal that Jamie had prepared for them had been delicious and Claire was happy just to be together, without memories of their past mission and what had happened to them both at the monastery. They were also thousands of miles away from the ever-watchful eye of Section One’s leaders Operations and Madeline. Having escaped any scrutiny from their superiors was a very comforting thought.

Jamie and Claire had relaxed in each other’s company tonight and the safety and remoteness of this place was certainly partially responsible for that feeling. They had fallen into conversation easily over dinner and had spoken of many things but nothing of Section One. It was as if Section didn’t exist while they were here for, they wanted nothing to mar their first evening together in safety in this paradise. They also communicated without words in a silent language only they understood, a language they had perfected in Section One. An imperceptible energy manifested itself in those moments of silence that was comforting. In the quiet, intimate moments, when nothing much was said those words meant everything. They were as one at ease with each other but it was the looks that Jamie was shooting her way that had Claire a little nervous.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The gazes that Jamie propelled towards her had her salivating but not for the food he’d prepared earlier. James Fraser was doing unimaginable things to Claire’s psyche that had her on the back foot. His looks penetrated to the very core of her being and she was mesmerized by the man sitting opposite her. Neither of them was taking a single moment of this privacy for granted. Every second was a reminder of what was precious and meaningful and they’d filed them all away to treasure when the painful truth of their lives once again surfaced when they would return to Section One after their downtime.

Never taking his eyes from the woman he loved, James Fraser raised his wineglass to Claire. They clinked glasses and the fine glass crystal made a “dinging” sound. “To tonight,” he toasted, his meaning as crystal clear to Claire as the glass he was holding. “To the next fortnight,’’ she answered in reply. “And … the rest of the night Claire Beauchamp,” added Jamie, knowing only too well the innuendo underlying his toast and what that would mean for them. Eyeing him across the table as they tipped their glasses towards each other, she replied, “To rediscovering who we really are James Fraser.” They then each sipped their drink. Jamie’s eyes never left her face as he watched his Sassenach sip her wine into her luscious mouth. He smiled enjoying watching this sensuous gesture and unbeknownst to Claire he was becoming more and more aroused by his beautiful love. He loved to watch her and smiled warmly taking in her beauty, contented to just look at the woman he worshipped. He wished that he could spend the rest of his days simply sharing these poignant small moments with her and knew that he would do everything in his power to see that his Sassenach regained her self-worth and recover from the atrocities she had endured. Claire Beauchamp was his life and these fourteen days were crucial in her mending the broken woman that Jonathon Randall had shattered. The very thought of that man filled Jamie’s heart with loathing and a hatred that consumed him for what he had done to Claire.

When next they met, and they would, that lowlife piece of shit would know the full furore of his vengeance. Jonathon Randall would suffer as his Claire had suffered and he would atone for what had happen to her … with his life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

All of a sudden, they locked eyes, and Jamie gave a slightly wistful sigh when Claire let out a small, contented noise. He looked into her beautiful, blue eyes. "Did ye enjoy that Sassenach?" he asked, slightly intoxicated at the ethereal vision of his woman.

“Aye Fraser, I did ye ken,” Claire replied imitating Jamie’s Scottish brogue.

She looked over to see that he was looking at her with a smile on his face. Trying to repress a grin, Claire leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, leaning a little toward him in a gesture which was subtly seductive. Her eyes were warm and slightly flirtatious as she propped her head in her hand and looked him over.

"And you?"

Claire Beauchamp was a wee vixen and he loved her flirty banter. Jamie licked his top lip in a way he knew would not be lost on her. He then mirrored her reply.

"Aye Sassenach, I did ye ken."

The meal that Jamie had prepared for them had been delicious and Claire was happy just to be together without memories of their past mission and what had happened to them both at the monastery.

But … Was it the meal or the wine that he liked or was it the company he was with that had her heart fluttering?

James Fraser’s body was ripped and she couldn’t help but stare at him. She lazily took inventory of her man and set her mind to pondering about the virile male in her company. Her eyes travelled across the reddish, loose curls on his head that were a riot of colour and her fingers itched to thread her fingers through those unruly locks as her thumbs lightly caressed his cheeks. She ached to kiss his lips and feel his mouth consume her as he reciprocated the deepening caress. Although other tantalising and wayward thoughts raced through her mind as well, she tried to suppress them as her gaze followed his with a hunger that made her mouth parched. However, she continued to leisurely caress Jamie’s form, as wicked thoughts ran freely in her head. Her breathing was becoming a little shallow and she felt her heartbeats accelerate as her visions took her to a happy place.

She was mesmerized by Jamie’s strong arms and remembered how she felt in them when he held her close. The memory of his many talents, especially in the bedroom, suddenly popped into her head and she started to have erotic reminiscences of those arms wrapped around her when his reciprocal reply caught her unawares.

Claire bit her lip. It would have been so easy for her to let her musings go off on a tangent but she attempted to bring her recalcitrant thoughts under control by complementing his cooking.

"The meal was delicious, thank you Jamie,” she uttered softly, reluctantly looking away for a moment as his eyes were so penetrating, she was afraid that Jamie would see into her mind and what she was thinking.

However, he did know. James Fraser was completely aware of her inner turmoil and he raised an eyebrow in that inimitable way that made Claire smile as she cast her eyes back to his face.

“Thank ye … mo luaidh.”

Her stare never left Jamie’s face. Gazing at him, their eyes connected but his blue eyes seemed to bore right through her. Claire knew then that he had known just what type of thoughts had coursed through her mind. Jamie the conjurer had read her moods and she suddenly felt a little awkward and tongue tired. They sat in silence, just looking at each other and waiting for one or the other to speak once more. However, the silence was deafening except for the sound of the sea lapping on the shore, that was until Claire softly announced.

“This place is perfect Jamie. I'm so glad that we’re here together to recover. I love it.”

She spoke the words with such awe in her voice that Jamie was thrilled at his decision to come here so far away from Section One.

They both needed this environment to mend not only their broken bodies but also to help Claire erase the memories of her torture. He never worried about his own pain and suffering or mental health but he always worried about her mindset. If by being here the two of them could find each other again then the time would be worthwhile. He loved Claire and he wanted her to be well in body and mind, for once their downtime was up, they were going to return to the mission and achieve the end game by capturing Sun Yee Lok. He would also seek his vengeance on Jonathon Randal and Karen Yee for what they had done to the both of them.

“Mòran taing ... ”

“I wish our downtime was longer than two weeks.” Her words were pensive and heartfelt.

Turning his head towards her, Jamie’s eyes captured her gaze with a look that had Claire wishing he would kiss her. If that was his intention as well, he didn’t act on it but instead he reached out his hand towards her. Capturing her hand in his, Jamie began to gently caress it. He entwined their fingers together in a lover’s knot and held her gaze.

“So, do I Sassenach,” he replied tenderly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Claire was having heart palpitations at the way Jamie was nonchalantly stroking her hand and looking at her. His piercing eyes were shooting daggers to her heart as their hand foreplay rapidly descended into suggestive teasing from both of them. While holding her gaze prisoner, Jamie sensually brushed his thumb over her knuckles. The touch of his intimate caress as he stroked her fingers made Claire catch her breath as a groan threatened to leave her lips. She was finding it difficult to breathe and when Jamie raised her hand to his mouth, and brushed his lips to her fingertips, she knew that she had no defence against James Fraser when he was seducing her like this.

Blue eyes caressed her face as he worked his magic on her senses and when his teeth gently nipped the soft fleshy mound below her thumb, her whole body trembled. She was mesmerized by what this man was doing to her and Claire couldn’t look away from his piercing gaze. She remembered what it felt like to have his hands seduce her senses until her insides began to melt. However, when his stare became too overpowering, her eyes lowered only to linger on where he was caressing her fingers. Jamie’s touch was far too erotic and Claire felt suffocated with the feelings that consumed her. She couldn’t breathe … she couldn’t think … she couldn’t even speak. All she could do was capitulate to the feelings that this wonderful man had aroused and set free.

The fire in his eyes burned into her corneas until she was blinded by eyes darkened with desire.

Suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotion, Claire dropped Jamie’s hand, stood up from the table and moved away towards the balcony. Leaning against the rail she peered out into the fathomless night sky where the moon even seemed to be smiling down at her. She didn’t hear Jamie’s soft footfalls but when she felt his arms encircle her waist, she leaned back against his body as his hands rested across her stomach. They stood there for a moment together as one and with Jamie’s arms around her, Claire knew this was the only place she wanted to be. A sudden gush of heat shot though her body at their nearness and the hot sensation darted along her nervous system until she felt as if her whole body was feverish. Reclining her head back on his shoulder, she snuggled in closer to Jamie’s warm body very content to just stay there safe and secure in the arms of the man she loved.

She felt the warmth of his breath caress her skin. She shivered and could feel the smile in his kiss as Jamie placed his soft, talented lips to her lobe. He ran his tongue over the outer shell of her ear and Claire felt her knees go weak. If not for the fact that he was holding her, she knew she would have melted towards the ground. Just the feeling of this man’s virile body pressed to her was setting off all kinds of alarm bells that had her floating on cloud nine. James Fraser was more intoxicating than the scene before her eyes.

“Would ye care for some dessert Sassenach?” Jamie whispered seductively into her ear; the warm breath of his words doing funny things to her insides. “What did you have in mind?” she replied happily, turning her head to glance at him.

Jamie was quite aware of the innuendo underpinning her question and he replied in kind. Enamoured by his Sassenach he smiled and went for Claire’s jugular, knowing that what he did next would have her lose consciousness even more in his arms.

“Oh, a bit of this …” Jamie kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

“and … a bit of this …” he replied kissing her on her neck with a lingering caress that had her swooning against his body.

Claire could barely think, let alone speak as all coherent words seemed to be swallowed by the keening moan that escaped her lips. Jamie’s caresses were sending her thought processes into unconsciousness. The more she moaned the more his kisses intensified and when he lathed the column of her throat with his tongue she lost all sense of who and where she was. All she could do was capitulate to Jamie’s attack on her senses.

“… and perhaps a bit of this too.”

Gently turning Claire in his arms Jamie’s kisses lightly nipped at her lips several times, but then overcome with his need and her response, he kissed her passionately on the mouth. Just like his suggestive hand foreplay his lips were an aphrodisiac to her senses. Jamie’s kiss was all consuming and Claire melted in his arms. Her whole body was in a state of combustion and James Fraser was the cause of her fevered state. Feeling her skin blush, it was difficult for her to breathe. His kiss had made her breathless until Claire was in such a state that she would rather expire than have Jamie relinquish his lips from her mouth. The lack of oxygen to her brain just intensified as his kiss deepened. However, she didn’t care if she asphyxiated within his arms for Jamie was smothering her with his mouth in a kiss that made her toes curl and her heart pound wildly in her chest. Claire’s whole body was responding to Jamie’s caress and when his tongue sort entry to her mouth, she answered his plea. Their tongues duelled in an erotic coupling that had both of them lost to the moment as they kissed without limitations. His breathing matched the shallowness of hers but they dare not sever their kiss despite the lack of oxygen.

With his love pressed against his body, Jamie cradled Claire to his chest while devouring her mouth with kisses so deadly that she felt her heart would burst from the intensity of their connection. Clenching his muscles, he tried to control his emotions from spiralling out of control and he pulled away from Claire’s lips but she moaned in loss and pulled him back to her. Finally breaking for some air, they both breathed deeply as oxygen finally filled their lungs. Never taking their eyes from one another they were both lost to the moment they had just shared. Looking at his Claire falling apart in his arms, Jamie too was overcome with emotion of the significance of what had just happened.

This was momentous. It was the start to the beginning of their recovery. Together they would heal through their love for one another and he knew that they would emerge from this recuperation stronger than ever for their bond was invincible. No one would be able to sever the connection they had, not the triad and especially not Madeline or Operations.

This woman ... his woman … was everything to him.

Jamie groaned then tightening his arms around Claire, he leaned his forehead against hers. Clasping his head in her hands, her fingers tangled in the curls at the base of his head. In turn about, Jamie roamed his hands at will over his love’s body until they slid under her clothing and across her feverish smooth skin. His gaze was piercing and the intensity of his look made Claire shiver with anticipation of what her Jamie would do next.

She whimpered in sexual longing and she writhed against him burrowing her fingers into his head as passion overcame the both of them once more. His touch was electrifying for James Fraser was doing unimaginable things to her senses and Claire was reeling with expectation. She was burning up with hunger and need for her man that manifested in her groin. Wet with a profound need for Jamie, she quivered as her legs tangled with his. Emotions were escalating and Claire was overcome with passion. Feeling the evidence of his reaction to her as well, she pressed her lower body more firmly against his and cried out his name.

“Ja-mie …”

Losing what little control he had left; James Fraser answered her sigh with one of his own.

“Sorcha … mo ghràidh.”

A commanding gaze seized hers and Claire was lost for words by the implicit message given by Jamie’s words. Tightening his arm around her he leaned his head against her.

“Happy?” “Yes, but I’ll be happier soon,” she replied placing a kiss to his jaw, “Won’t I?” With a tender smile gracing his lips, he reached down and rubbed his thumb over her lips, then her eyebrow in an all too familiar gesture. “Of course, … Sass-en-ach!”

Each syllable of her name was like a kiss to her ears. Jamie’s gaze from Claire’s eyes, to her lips, to the length of her body, before returning to her eyes again, told her that she would be happy … extremely happy.

She smiled wickedly at him. “I can’t wait for my dessert Fraser.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jamie chuckled at Claire’s answer for he had planned some mouth-watering treats for her that would be hard to resist.

His Sassenach was certainly being sassy and alluring especially after her being a little overwhelmed at the hand seduction, but the mention of dessert had certainly piqued her enthusiasm. This made him happy because this bravado was certainly the beginning of their healing process. This day had been like none other. Since they had left Section One this morning, their flight to Australia and finally reaching their destination had been exhausting. However, despite the tyranny of distance they had travelled, their day had gone past in the blink of an eye, even though they were in a different time zone and had gained two hours. It seemed like eons ago since they had left Med Lab and they had been totally unaware of the concept of time since arriving in Australia and at the property. Their day had gone past so fast and their leaving Section was all a blur to them now.

It had certainly been a long day and their bed awaited … but would they get any rest? He thought not, given the suggestive mood that seemed to have come over his Sassenach. He was intrigued because Claire seldom initiated their lovemaking but tonight, she had other plans it would seem. Perhaps she really wasn’t jet lagged and sleep deprived having slept on the plane. The night, however, was still young and who knew what lay ahead once he got her to their bedroom. Sexual healing was the beginning of physical healing and he was all for his Claire to relish both on the way to full recovery.

What they both needed was to get better and he could think of no better place than here to achieve that. This property would be their refuge and they could let the world of their Section life pass them by without a moment’s hesitation or thought. They would be able to relax here and over the next fourteen days Claire would be able to see the person he was before Section. He knew he had certainly made the right decision in bringing his love to this place of solitude. It was perfect … perfect for the both of them.

“If ‘tis dessert that ye want mo nighean donn, then ‘tis dessert ye shall get.”

Jamie’s words sent thrills shuddering down her spinal column and when he lifted her up into his arms Claire knew that the kind of dessert she wanted, was not of the sustenance kind. Wrapping her arms around his neck she leaned into the column of Jamie’s throat and nipped at the erogenous area just below his ear where he was super sensitive to the touch.

"Ah, Sassenach … ye ken those soft kisses to the back of my neck drive me crazy.”

“I’m just savouring some dessert Mr Fraser … and it tastes … delicious,” Claire purred as she delicately began nibbling on his ears.

Her warm tongue licked the outer rim of his earlobe and it took all of Jamie’s will power not to drop her. His woman was a temptress and the way she was anointing his ear with her lips had him on the back foot. He was becoming more and more aroused by her ministrations but when Claire placed her thumb and index finger in the corner where his earlobe met his face and began to gently pull down the lobe before letting her fingers slide off so that she could start again, Jamie knew he was in for some delicious dessert of his own tonight.

“Sassenach,” he implored, “If ye keep that up, I’m nae sure if I can make it to the bed.”

“But I want my dessert Jamie … you promised.”

“Oh … ye’ll get yer dessert mo ghràidh. That is … if ye don’t stop squirming in my arms. The floor is looking good ye ken.”

Looking down at the floor then back at her love, she purred, “I don’t mind Jamie … as long as I get what I want.”

Claire was teasing him knowing that he was unable to reciprocate. Taking advantage of his inability to do anything for a little while longer she teased him again. She kissed the back of his neck with her mouth slightly open and hummed seductively against his skin. Jamie could feel the vibrations of her keening murmur and knew that as soon as he reached the bedroom, Claire was going to pay the price for her provocative torture. The combination of the heat of her open mouth kiss against his neck and the awareness of the quivering hum sent some serious sensations rushing through his body. His mind was espousing the many wicked things that he wanted to do to his Sassenach that each step he took with this vixen in his arms was agony multiplied.

However, any pain that he felt in his wounded shoulder was totally insignificant for James Fraser was unravelling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~to be continued on FRIDAY 3rd July when we begin several Jamie and Claire chapters. So, buckle down it might get a bit steamy.

#Jamieandclairefanfic #jamieandclairecrossover #jamieandclaireau #the lallybroch library #outlander fanfic #covert operations #LFNoutlander

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armsdealing · 5 years ago

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@themercifulmother sent: ciro: 8. + 26. // emile: 19. + 23.

character development questions / accepting.

CIRO.

8. where and when do they seem most and least at ease? why? how can you tell?

ciro, especially older ciro, has a tight grip on his body language, so it's actually hard to tell when he's displeased or pleased by something, or when he's comfortable/uncomfortable. at least, when he's playing the role of advisor, and when he's around other made men. he's got reputation for being truly unreadable, for seeming perfectly okay with a meeting's resolutions only to turn around and tell salvatore that he thinks lowly of the terms of the prospective deal or the dealmakers themselves. he will seem unruffled by someone's aggressive behavior and, once that person is out of earshot, or simply has calmed down, he will pointedly criticize it. such a skill is invaluable for a consigliere, for a lawyer, and as salvatore's business partner.

he does not like surprises, though. he can work with them, will do well with them, but he does not like them. he does not like things being hidden from him, either, since they make his work much more difficult than he considers it should be. there's a breathable tension in the room whenever ciro realizes there's a crucial piece of information that he does not possess. he has argued (privately) with sal whenever he feels like sal has hidden something from him, and it's likely one of the few rare times sal could have seen ciro aggravated. it's not easy to tell unless you know ciro when this happens, but: he turns very still. hardly blinks, his gaze downturned when he is making direct eye contact. talks very coolly and keeps things brief and to the point.

he also does not like snakes. when he was younger (late teens), he was bitten by an asp viper during a trip to italy. a half hour of unbearable pain and some antivenom later, he's all good and healthy, but developed a fear of snakes. not a phobia: he can be near one, provided it's in its enclosure, but he'd rather not. he will avoid looking at it.

talks about sexuality also make him uncomfortable. it does not matter how accepting of it you might be. when he was young, even talking about girls was the one masculine ritual he never quite mastered (he was good at violence, at sports, at money -- but not vulgar conversations about women and sex), and his involvement was minimal, only the right amount necessary to keep suspicions of his own personal inclinations at bay. he claimed to be old fashioned, that he was raised to be respectful, a good catholic, a good sicilian. truth is, he was uneasy as fuck. and he's very tight-lipped about being gay even nowadays. you can chalk that up to both his stifled environment growing up and the fact that he's private by nature.

he's most at ease when things are business as usual. when he's on his own or with the company of someone he is close to (sal, delores, his wife), but not talking about business. you can tell because of the ribbing, and the rambling manner of his speech. he's more expressive, more colorful with his language, but still keeping his impassive disposition.

26. how do they view and feel about relationships, and how might this manifest in how they handle them, if it does?

he views relationships (friendships, family, spouse) as some of the most important things on earth. money and power is really all in service of what you can provide for your loved ones. someone who is powerful, but alone, without strong connections to anyone or anyone -- does not remain powerful for long. as a result, ciro is loyal and unwavering when it comes to his relationships. once he has chosen you as part of his small circle of friends and loved ones, he will pretty much kill for you. he will lie for you in court. he will bury a body for you and make sure it is never found. he will do anything in his power to keep you safe. moreover, he will ensure your loved ones are safe as well. for example, when sal goes to prison, ciro visits him on a consistent basis, but mostly he makes sure delores and the kids are doing well.

all this being said, he simultaneously believes that emotions and sentimentality should not cloud one's judgement, and how one feels shouldn't have a say above the logically better decisions. his loyalty is airtight, but so is his sense of pragmatism, and his tendency to look for the long term solutions rather than instant gratification. when someone he cares about is hurt (like, for example, his children) or threatened by someone, he goes about solving the problem in tranquil, meticulous manner. make no mistake, though: it is not any less cutthroat than simply walking and beating the assailant up over it.

ÉMILE.

19. how do they behave within a group? what role(s) do they take? does this differ if they know and trust the group, versus finding themselves in a group of strangers? why?

émile is an introvert who can pass very well for an extrovert, albeit at the cost of his energy. it also vastly depends on whether he trusts the group and the nature/purpose of the group itself.

he can effortlessly take the role of a leader, deciding what is best for the group and calling the shots, bringing people together and making sure everyone is doing well. this tends to happen with people he does not know much; he is the one that takes initiative primarily out of a lack of trust for others' leadership skills -- and because he is very independent and very intolerant to others bossing him around. it's also the sagittarius in him speaking -- sagittarians make good leaders because of their excellent organizational and people skills. at his best, émile is generous, broad-minded, optimistic, and charismatic enough to make people side with him and agree with him. he's also a great listener and protector.

but he can also easily take the role of the lancer/right-hand man. in order for this to happen, he needs to trust the leader greatly, and he will challenge them constantly. he is not someone that blindly follows others: he will act as a great complementary force. he will also appreciate not having to be in the spotlight all the time.

23. how do they respond to difficult social moments? what makes them consider a social situation difficult?

because of the add, émile suffers from emotional dysregulation. ed is a term used in the mental health community that refers to emotional responses that are poorly modulated and do not lie within the accepted range of emotive response. he also suffers from rsd, or rejection sensitive dysphoria, "an extreme emotional sensitivity and pain triggered by the perception that a person has been rejected or criticized by important people in their life".

as a result, émile does not deal with criticism well, or perceived slights (at himself, at his family/relationships), or rejection. he can easily become irritated and that irritation can quickly evolve into intense anger. when he was a child, this presented itself in the form of aggression: while mostly well behaved, he would waste no time snapping back at other boys/bullies when they threw mean comments at him, or lashing out at teachers for criticizing him. he would get into fights just to prove himself as not one to be tested. he did not deal with being scolded by his parents well, either -- he would pretend not to care, but that shit would sting. on more than one occassion, he would cry. he would continue to act out.

he got better with age. more mature, less likely to respond to provocation. he had to set an example for his siblings -- he had to help his parents with raising them, and be a good older brother. still, he worried about being overly sensitive. he would get stressed out very easily, angry very easily, and sad very easily, prompting him into impulsive behaviors. then just like that, these emotions would disappear and be replaced with apathy. he sought out hobbies to help him with that, took up exercise, running, boxing.

nowadays, more self aware and with medication that helps him modulate his emotions properly -- he still considers situations when someone is mad at him or disappointed with him especially difficult, just because of how much it hurts him to be in that position. however, he has tools to deal with it, and not let it overwhelm him. he overthinks a lot, but he has turned it into a good thing. now émile tries his best to solve problems via words and effective communication.

#* ciro.#* emile.#answered ooc.

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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Quiet Hour (Scyvie) - ella

a/n: hi!!! this is my first ever submission to aq, but this oneshot has been up on ao3 for a while now.

(POTENTIAL SPOILER AFTER THE JUMP)

this isn’t much, but with the whole branjie mess coming down, I figured a lot of people would want some sappy cute shit lmao. This is all domestic fluff to keep things happy, so hope you enjoy!

If there was one thing Yvie loved doing besides drag, it would be her quiet hour. She would brew herself a nice cup of coffee, play some ambient low-fi music (maybe even burn an incense if she’s really feeling it), and just lay in the couch and think. She’d stare at absolute nothingness for a full hour and reflect on certain situations she’s been in, the problems she’s been facing. It was a way to reset her mind and just stop. Yvie loved that. Yvie needed that.

But the recent months have been harder on her, now that she’s a quote-unquote ‘RuGirl’. She could never find the time to stay home between all her gigs and finish at least one quiet session. Whenever she would attempt it, her mind would fall restless and she’d end up moving around and doing work. Five minutes into one attempt she found herself hemming an outfit. Ten minutes into another try, she began to subconsciously practice her choreography for a number she was working on. It was concerning, in her eyes. She couldn’t stop to take a break and she feared it would be damaging to her health.

Another thing that kept her from bringing back quiet hour was her new boyfriend, Scarlet. After 6 months of being together, Yvie ended up moving into Scarlet’s Brooklyn apartment. They’d spend as much time together as possible, and for a while it made Yvie forget about personal space. As much as Yvie loved her alone time, Scarlet’s presence had a calming nature to it that she felt was more than enough. She’d find Scarlet overcooking eggs and playing jazz music at 7 in the morning, using her vintage record player (Yvie made fun of Scarlet’s old soul when she discovered the device, joking about how she feels like she’s dating a grandmother with how stiff and awkward she danced to the melodies). She’d break into dance in front of Yvie, and the happiness that it would produce would make Yvie feel like alone time was overrated. She had all she needed by her side, why want to be alone?

But with each episode airing, and with the show slowly unraveling the ugly side of Yvie Oddly for the world to critique, she started to crave for time alone. She needed to escape from the constant buzzing of her phone. The idea of a short escape was good enough for Yvie to daydream about it. So, one night, while Scarlet was busy keeping her nose in a book, she brings it up.

It was well into the night, and with the faint vocals of Dolly Parton playing in their record player, Scarlet was engrossed in Virginia Woolf. Such a grandma, Yvie chuckled as she settled into their cluttered bed. She leaves a lamp on for Scarlet to read properly, and places a small peck on her cheek before laying her head on the older queen’s shoulder.

“You’re really cute when you do that thing with your eyebrows. Makes you look mean.” Yvie smiled, which makes Scarlet roll her eyes in a playful manner. Scarlet stays quiet though, too engrossed in whatever the modernist writer has to say to continue the conversation.

Yvie realizes that she has to make her pay attention, so she slowly pushes the novel down, meeting her boyfriend’s eyes. “Hey, can we talk about something?”

Scarlet, confused, looks at Yvie with a questioning stare. She sets the book down, placing the book by their nightstand and yawning. “What is it baby?” She hummed, eyes falling on the younger queen. “Something bothering you? You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good, don’t worry.” Yvie quickly replied, before letting her hand trail down to meet Scarlet’s. “…I used to do this thing called quiet hour where I would sit down and do nothing. I know it sounds stupid, but it really helped me relax and reflect on everything so that I don’t bitch out.” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s- after the episodes started to release, I just need to reset my brain and the quiet hour does that. Would it be okay if I did that here?”

Scarlet frowned, before tightening her grip on Yvie’s hand. She sighs before placing a soft kiss on her boyfriend’s lips. “Vie, we’ve been together for almost a year and you only told me you had this whole self-care ritual now?” She let’s out a smile, cupping Yvie’s cheeks. “You know that I value self-care.”

“I think your ten-step skin care routine makes that obvious.”

“Excuse me! I’m doing a little thing here?” Scarlet exclaimed, mouth hanging open. “I would enjoy a little respect when I’m speaking!”

Yvie laughed, letting her boyfriend have her moment. “Fine, go on.”

“Thank you.” The older queen responded, her smile not leaving her lips. “Baby, if you need time alone I’m all for that. I’m guessing you would want me out the apartment while doing that? I won’t be offended if you say yes.” Scarlet lets go of Yvie, their eyes the only thing connecting.

“Yeah, of course! But we’ll be busy the next few weeks, and we won’t have time before our anniversary. So… I guess it’s okay to have you here when I do it. I know you won’t be intrusive.”

“I’ll try my best to understand what you need. But I would like it if you explained to me what you want me to avoid doing specifically-“ Scarlet let a yawn escape from her lips, cutting off her sentence. “… tomorrow. Tell me tomorrow. I think we should head to bed.”

Yvie chuckled, pecking her lover’s lips before settling into their sheets, satisfied with their little discussion.

“Alright Vie, it’s almost 5…” Scarlet spoke softly, reaching up the kitchen cabinets to grab their coffee machine. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do? Or to avoid doing?”

Yvie shook her head, wrapping a hand around her lover’s waist and setting a kiss on the back of her head. “Nothing, babe. I think we’re good.” She pulls away, glancing at the clock before turning Scarlet around to meet her eyes. “..But maybe if you’re going to make coffee, maybe not use the machine? It’s pretty noisy.”

“Oh! Oh of course, I’m sorry.” Scarlet fumbled, placing the machine back in the cabinet. “I’m sorry, I’ll just grab one of the instant packets.”

“No, it’s okay. No need to apologize!” Yvie spoke, a faint smile itching to develop into a full grin. “You’re already doing so much, I’m already thankful.”

Once Yvie was able to settle in their bed, she already felt a wave of tranquility coming in. She closed her eyes slowly, feeling the flutter of her eyelids. She took deep breaths (it was a new meditation technique scarlet recommended that she try and honestly, it’s so nice) and relaxed her shoulders.

Numerous thoughts pop up in her head, and after a while, they are put to rest. From personal issues with past queens to simple ways she could improve her living situation. She remembers how amazing her quiet hour was, how it did wonders to her restless brain and its antics. The little thoughts that bothered her head are finally set down, looked at, and resolved.

But besides all these minute problems she’s been able to resolve, Scarlet just kept popping back into her head. The way her eyes were a striking blue, to how her smile could kill and would send six feet under. Scarlet was a gem, and Yvie felt so lucky to have her. It was magical, the way they felt for each other. Yvie didn’t believe she’d have something (or someone) as special as her love for her boyfriend, but here she was. She was absolutely lovestruck and she didn’t hate one bit.

Trailing off to daydream about Scarlet, she heard their bedroom door creak. Her eyebrows furrowed as a reaction to the sudden sound. She peeked an eye open, and she saw Scarlet.

What? Yvie thought, her eyes trailing to the two cups of coffee held by her partner. She was confused, almost irritated. Didn't I tell her to not intrude?

Scarlet pushed aside the puzzled glare her boyfriend was sending her way and set one of the cups she held on the nightstand. She smiles to Yvie after her lover fully opens her eyes, handing her the other cup.

Yvie opened her mouth to speak, but decided against it. She went with the flow of the situation and took the warm mug from Scarlet. She watched Scarlet pull the covers up and settle into bed, taking her cup from the nightstand and closing her eyes.

Was she… joining her? Yvie was almost amazed. She’s never seen Scarlet show interest in meditation, nor her quiet hour. She didn’t think Scarlet would survive silence longer than ten minutes, and to see her try made Yvie’s heart jump out of her chest.

Scarlet was trying to understand.

Yvie sighed loudly, closing her eyes once again before placing her head on Scarlet’s shoulder. She felt the older queen tense up at the sudden touch, sensing the surprise in her actions. She didn’t bother looking up though, Yvie just relaxed further into Scarlet’s shoulder.

After a few minutes, they were finally able to relax. Scarlet’s hand timidly inched towards Yvie’s, her manicured fingers softly tapping her palm before slowly intertwining their fingers together.

Yvie didn’t think spending quiet hour with someone would be any help. But with a cup of coffee made with love, her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder, and Scarlet’s thumb softly caressing the back of Yvie’s hand, maybe having Scarlet with her this time wasn’t that bad of an idea.

Once the hour was up, she finally opened her eyes and saw Scarlet’s eyes still shut. Yvie sits up, and softly places a kiss on Scarlet’s temple. “Thank you, I love you.” She whispered before pecking the spot once again. “I’m grateful that I have you.”

“Thank you too.” Scarlet spoke, softly as to not ruin the tranquil mood. “I think I like this quiet hour idea. Can I join you sometime?”

Yvie nodded, her arm wrapping around Scarlet. “You are a great companion, so yes, you can.”

#rpdr fanfiction #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #scyvie #domestic fluff #established relationship #canon compliant #oneshot #ella #submission #domestic #fluff

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neozoneships · 4 years ago

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“hellooo, could i req a ship with nct, got7 and bp ,,, i’m an enfp-t and a libra, i’m like 5’4 and a half and i speak two languages. my love language is physical touch and i’m really clingy to my close friends and i just need to be touching somEONE all the time. i have really shitty mental health and i feel like that affects my personality a lot like i’m really extroverted but i’m also kinda quiet cos my anxiety won’t let me do anything HAHAHAHA i also get uncomfortable kinda easily and i’m hella awkward. i try really hard to be nice and i’d say i’m pretty observant, im really good at listening to others and giving advice and i think i’m funny ??-$-@:&/&. i really like listening to music and honestly i js want someone to make playlists for. i love traveling like the feeling of being in a foreign place where no one knows you is one of my favourite feelings. i’m pretty wild and down for anything but my personality varies so much depending on my mood. i’m really empathetic and i love deep conversations and i could talk the night away if i’m talking to the right person. i’ve lwk been thru a lot of shit and so it takes me a while to actually let my walls down and be able to be vulnerable so that’s really fun ajdhkahs sorry this was so long hahah but thankyouu bubs”

@haechanstyles hellooo bubs thank you for requesting and waiting patiently! normally i wouldnt really accept nct with other groups in a ship but you’re lucky i’m procrastinating haha anyways, i hope you like your ships ! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡♡

in nct, i ship you with… haechan!

hyuck is the perfect match for you oml firstly, he’s a gemini which makes him compatible astrologically-wise with you. secondly, he’s also an enfp so the both of you share similar mindsets and values, making it easier for the both of you to bond. hyuck loVVESS skinship so you can bet that the both of you needs to have contact with the other at all times, may it be subtly or not. i think there’ll even be a time where the both of you try to annoy each other with how clingy you are to the other but tbh the real winners here are the two of you. haechan is pretty extroverted and outgoing; even if you get quiet and awkward at first, this kid will just not stop talking and you’ll find it difficult to not be entertained by the many stories he has to offer. hyuck loves music too and he’d really appreciate it when you make playlists for him, i think he’d reciprocate by serenading you songs in the playlist you made for him. honestly, under that outgoing and charismatic layer, i think hyuck is a pretty good conversationalist and he’s such an easy guy to talk to. with him, you’ll never run out of things to talk about. although he can joke and fool around a lot, hyuck certainly knows when to draw the line when it comes to something serious. if anything is for certain, you don’t have to worry about not being able to connect with hyuck because he sounds literally like your counterpart (wait i just realised your acc tag is haechan ahdiahdkd i swear it’s a coincidence)

in got7, i ship you with… jackson!

with most of got7 being an earth sign, jackson was the most compatible with you as he is an aries. in terms of mbti, he’s an enfj, which means the two of you likely share the same alignment of values and interests. because of such similarities, it’s easy for you to get to know to each other better and build common ground. the both of you seek a deep and meaningful connection with the people around you. there are also likely barely any quarrels between you two as since you’re both an intuitive feeling (NF) type, you would imagine yourselves in each other’s shoes and tend to shower the other with compassion. jackson will really try to understand you and make sure he knows what’s wrong, especially when you get quiet. and boy if he hears people being unfair to you, he would not hesitate to be very protective and pull up his fists. he’s generally an easy person to get along with, and you wouldnt doubt that for a second. jackson travels a lot so he’d bring you to places where he knows you’ll like a lot, especially places outside of the city centres, so that you can experience the vastness of the countryside. like hyuck, jackson knows when to be serious and when to goof off. no matter what you need, jackson aims to be your pillar of support, never leaving your side

in blackpink, i ship you with… rosé!

in terms of astrology, rosé is an aquarius, which gels well with the fact that you’re a libra. this is further compounded by the fact that the both of you are enfps: like hyuck, this means the both you share the same values and interests. you both are compassionate, empathetic, idealistic and aim to better those around you to the best of your abilities. seeking a deep and emotional connection, it wouldn’t be difficult either for the two of you to bond. i think rosé will appreciate you creating playlists for her too, and she might even want to join in the fun too hence why the both of you have a collaborative playlist. sometimes she’ll be even cheeky and add particular songs in the playlist so that it’ll spell out a certain hidden meaning (i.e ‘i love you’ or something random like ‘let’s make a tiktok together’. rosé is pretty much a well-known figure around the world, so it would be difficult to travel together without having anyone recognise the both of you. that’s why two of you would come up with this whack-ass plan to disguise rosé such that she won’t be noticeable in public: putting on a ridiculous wig, draping her in tacky clothes and just having a laugh out of it. she’ll also love to show you around australia and new zealand, especially when there are so many picturesque and tranquil places there (so you’ll get to enjoy your own privacy without having to deal with anyone). being with rosé helps you breaks your walls down and she has grown to become your safe zone. with her, you don’t feel as insecure, scared and vulnerable; that’s because she just brings out the best in you

GIFs not mine! credits to respective owners

#haechanstyles #written #ships #kpop #nct #haechan #got7 #jackson #blackpink #rosé #submission

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declassroomedteach-blog · 7 years ago

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Jailhouse Salvation 101

(word count approx 1570)

By Gina Fournier

The Merchant-Ivory movie adaptation of E. M. Forster’s A Room with a View features a poignant scene following a street fight that ends in murder. Lucy (Helen Bonham Carter) comments that you witness something memorable and think you’ll never be the same, but then you forget and return to your old self. I hope to do a better job holding onto my jailhouse conversion, from skeptical to convinced about the existence of God.

Disclaimer: My conviction has wavered intensely even before I finished editing this essay.

Thanks to my former employer and its bad actors, an institution I’ll call Land of Motown Community College, where I served as an English teacher, I’ve seen the best and the worst of pure Michigan humanity. If God created humans, God sure must have a sense of humor.

Even a smattering of details from my story sound like a rollercoaster Lifetime movie no one wants to watch. Since 2012, I’ve been sexist witch-hunted through an ongoing living nightmare that has included hack shrinks, illegal and involuntary lock up in a Catholic mental health ward and now incarceration for thirty-four days in a mid-Michigan county jail for a crime I did not commit. College administrators, union teachers, dirty cops, dirty doctors, dirty nuns and dirty priests, plus the state’s top most government officials, have participated in the protection of white collar criminals and encouraged my simultaneous downfall. All this for me, so one man can prove his power over unions near union ground zero.

The U.S. Constitution’s first amendment makes clear that government is not to establish any official religion, not protect any particular religion from existing laws. Perhaps the founding fathers could foresee the distant future. Nearly two hundred fifty years later, a female citizen has found cause to invert the phrase “God bless you” with blasphemy, attempting to redress grievances.

I’ve never met the emergency room doctor who signed me into a Catholic looney bin for a week. To my horror, I was held in a Catholic Siberia, it turns out, on campus with my all girl Catholic high school. I was raised and violated by the same church, which now pretends it’s never met me. Thirty five years ago, for Halloween, classmates mimicked the Robert Redford movie Brubaker to stage a failed, backboneless prison break. These classmates, who have also turned away from my plight, dressed not in hospital gowns or orange as the new black, but plaid skirts and knee socks adorned temporarily with stripes. (Good girls, we stopped mock rioting when the nuns glared.)

Unfortunately, there is no law or principle governing the intersection of religion and families. In my time of need, even my immediate and extended family has turned away, exponentially multiplying my distress. My extended Catholic family has not advocated for me, though it would cost nothing except some skin. The anger caused by this and so many betrayals envelops like nuclear explosion.

However, I realized something on day thirty-three of my lock up in the big house. Because the ties between families and religion tend to act like strangleholds, my estranged Catholic mother is incapable of doing the one thing I want and need her most to do: to demand that Livonia Catholics honestly investigate me claims. Because of my new found belief, I forgive my aging mother. She’s only human and doing the best she can. (Unfortunately, the damage done feels irreparable. Forgiveness does not mean I can tolerate her presence.)

Through five solid years of loss, I have been cornered mentally and financially into a nearly impossible position. But the kindest of strangers have helped me to survive. Downstate, nice generous neighbors responded to my cries for help by giving. Up north, the same. People have given money, food, house wares, helpful supplies such as wood, shoes, warm clothes, plus their time and honest well wishes. I wish I would have kept better track of the names and faces of the many regular people who have been so kind, forming a lifeline, keeping me alive.

My fighting spirit has kept better track of my transgressors, including Fox News Detroit, which ran a sexist hack piece in 2015 cutting together footage I asked them not to shoot in order to make me look looser than loopy. In search of more positive and helpful press, my creative and liberal mind encouraged me to tag my own, downstate old-ring suburban home with a metaphoric phrase that offended and confused. “A religious figure criminally violated me!” Only my version was Twitter-short. Basic sentence: subject, verb, object.

Passersby assumed I was nutz. I’m not. Unfortunately, the human resources’ labor attorney and architect of my nightmare is smart enough to know that once a crone-aged female is labeled crazy dangerous, most people won’t bother to parse the facts. Just ask Hillary. Voters elected a man without ethics, unwilling to practice stability, a sexual harasser, eager to “lock her up!”

I recreated my civil rights protest up north at a lake named after the largest city in New Brunswick. Maybe I watched too many episodes of Little House on the Prairie, after numerous rereadings of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. In middle age, without an income, I’ve been forced to gather wood and water for two years, for two winters, with a third approaching, in order to survive in my dead husband’s summer cabin, which is facing tax forfeiture, and soon. In both iterations, I repainted my eye-catching sacrilegious phrase with “Act Peace.” I’m not a bad person, or dangerous, or interested in spreading evil. But Fox News Detroit has been not interested in my actual story.

While I was incarcerated, nasty locals ran down my mailbox to which my sign “Act Peace” was nailed, and then took the sign. Two paintings espousing the Statue of Liberty have been stolen. My sign about the connection between the dirty cop who put me in jail and Land of Motown Community College was stolen, I’d guess by the dirty cop. My cries for “help!” with needed justice have been ignored. Instead, community officials at this private lake community have bent the law with the help of dirty local county officials, who may try to re-arrest me over the care of my feces. Yes, you read correctly. My troubles continue. Danger surrounds. This is not a pretty story.

(FYI. Please believe me. I’m still be getting my proverbial shit together, but I’ve always I properly and responsibly discarded my poop.)

Something wicked this way came, and stayed, but I pray to harness goodness and finally slay the beast on my back. I’ve been falsely accused of being suicidal and a danger to society within a country that has grown accustomed to men mass murdering and sexual harassing. I know the pain of mental illness in the form of mental torture, so I feel very sympathetic to those, especially military veterans, who suffer from PTSD. Mental pain is real. And can be excruciating. I realize no matter my idiosyncratic tendencies, finally winning a measure of justice will require the help of other people, and, well, by any name, I guess God. I know that God may not intercede with my legal and financial problems but belief in a higher power does help with gratefulness and tranquility.

In jail, every day is a good day to die. However, the smallest graces save a tattered soul and help a person carry on to the next long minute. I want to thank the two women who ran Bible study every Tuesday. Yes, you read correctly. Unbeknownst to them, they gave me gold for a writer without means: a composition notebook, on my 54th birthday, which was an otherwise desolate milestone. Moreover, these women of God showed me a respectable and inspirational version of Christianity.

On cable tv, my cellmates preferred back-to-back episodes of Cops, shows about zombies, the shallow high jinks of Jerry Springer, endless sci-fi. (I prefer comedy and drama.) The day I was eventually sprung from the slammer, my legal troubles abated but not erased, Unsolved Mysteries ran a segment on St. Pio, an Italian priest who was said to develop stigmata and miraculously heal. Angered, under stress, I admit I acted out loudly like an ass (even by jail standards): “I hope they roast his nuts!”

Many jail birds claim to accept Jesus as their savior, though none gave up their bottom bunk for the pregnant woman in our ranks. Critically, I recognized around me the kind of souls who would have rejected Mary and Joseph. But I was forced to realize this was not a television segment that was going to uncover more Catholic dirt. Although St. Pio may have self-inflicted his wounds, trapped in a county cell block, I dropped my bad attitude and truly felt in my body an undeniable wave of love.

No surprise, in the short time since my release on PR bond, my nascent jailhouse conversion has been tested and wavered, fallen apart, and needing rebuilding. Im not a saint. My days are terrifying and unresolved. But. If I breathe calmly and deeply, and repeat my affirmations, what some call prayers, I recognize a connection between hope and light.

House of Hope in Hersey, Michigan, offered me a composition notebook. Any additional help readers may offer with legal defense, plumbing, back taxes, transportation, work or grace are appreciated. Thank you.

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declassroomedteach-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Jailhouse Salvation 101

(word count approx 1570)

By Gina Fournier

Disclaimer: My conviction has wavered intensely even before I finished editing this essay.

(FYI. Please believe me. I’m still be getting my proverbial shit together, but I’ve always I properly and responsibly discarded my poop.)

�!�-�`Pe��

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