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anunvalidcritic · 3 years

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Justice League: Snyder Cut

(DISCLAIMER: MY OPINION IS MY OWN AND CAN BE DEEMED INVALID TO THOSE WHO DON’T CARE FOR IT.)

Oh, the time has come my friends! Now, I originally did a review on Batman V.S. Superman and I didn’t care for it, so I deleted it. But before I start, I would like y’all to read this statement made by @verified-villain-fxcker - You can click HERE to read it. As I stated in my repost, I couldn’t have said it better. May Autumn Snyder continue to rest in peace. Let’s get started!

It’s been so long since I’ve made a post I can’t even remember how I do this LOL.

CLARK is outta there to say the least...

WONDER WOMAN and LOIS look flabbergasted, as they should... BRUCE as well.

Talk about a shock-wave scream

All jokes aside, the hate that LEX has towards SUPERMAN is just to much energy to be giving to another person..

THESE BITCHIES ARE READY

why are they letting a minority approach the fucking the cube?!?!

*insert travel montage scene here*

Part 1 - “Don’t count on it, Batman.”

BRUCE knows damn well he’s talking to AQUAMAN. Let’s move this shit along lol

“Oh Gotham? How’s that shit hole?” - AQUAMAN

Ik these bitchies aren’t singing rofl

I’d sniff anything wore by Jason Momoa too.

“Maybe a man who broods in a cave isn’t cut out to be a recruiter.” - ALFRED

TALK YO SHIT ALFRED!!!!

AMY ADAMS can literally take my heart, step on it, throw it in a river and I still wouldn’t be mad.

Here comes the lovely WONDER WOMAN!

broooo her hands were moving like Donnie Yen in Ip Man!

Fucked that entire ceiling up

Ofc the one who tried to touch it would make the stupid statement.

STEPPENWOLF is really wildin’ out

Don’t look back! I hate it when they look back!!

These are some strong as women!

PART 2 - “The Age of Heroes”

“It’s toxic, that’s good.” - STEPPENWOLF

I can only imagine that this is how toxic people think.

this dude really just threw that lil demon fella like it was nothin’ lmao

You know you're working at a job for too long when you say this is the first time in a while that they're going home early smdh

Now that shit was pretty lit....

SILAS thinkin’ shit I better check on my son.

“You know a lot about monsters, don’t you? Especially how to make them.” - CYBORG

If that isn’t teen angst, then I don’t know wtf is lmao

Seeing Gal in this tomb makes me want to re-watch Wonder Woman 1 all over again!

DARKSEID ol’ trifflin’ ass

plopped him down like he was dirty laundry

God bless Willem Dafoe, this man is a fuckin’ legend!

“This world is divided. They’re a primitive species. Unevolved and at war with one another. Too separate to be one.” - STEPPENWOLF

DeSaad kinda looks like Doctor Doom in the Fantasic Four reboot lmao

GREEN LATERNS!!!!!!!!!!!! OH SHIT!!!!!!!!

we really need a Green Lantern Corps moving...

ZEUS + ARES = A Dynamic Duo When They Aren’t Being Dicks To Each Other

You know I feel bad for man because all they did was bury that shit in the ground rofl

Part 3 - “Beloved Mother, Beloved Son”

BARRY + IRIS = Love at First Sight

The burger can’t be that good like damn.

Bro the detail on his fucking shoes and the glass!!

ROFL PLEASE TELL ME HE TOOK THE HOTDOG FOR HIS DOG!?!?

damn did the car really need to explode...

lol BARRY must really need the job lol

... I would’ve just played dead after he threw me against that rock...

Man of Steel probably has one of the best soundtracks not just for a superhero movie but just in general

Americans love their football!

I have this love-hate relationship with CYBORG being in the JL and not with the TITANS you know since he’s a kid, but he’s a college student in this one.

Thank God DIANA spoke with VICTOR instead of BRUCE because I honestly don’t think he would’ve gotten him on board.

Everyone can literally zigzag zoom across this planet at undeniable speed except for BATMAN lol

Come on, VIC, help the lady out.

You know honestly, BARRY has a pretty cool pad for someone who's trying to get by paying for a Criminal Justice Degree.

“A very attractive Jewish boy. Who drinks milk, I don’t drink milk.” - BARRY

“Fuck the World.” - CYBORG

dang Ik DIANA has every right to grieve over STEVE, but damn that man has her whipped!

“You’re looking at the hottest thing on Earth. The exact same thing I said to my prom date. She dumped me anyway.” - RYAN CHOI

Why does MERA have an accent in this but not in AQUAMAN?? (ik the answer)

DAAAYYUUUMMMN MERA TURNED INTO A WHOLE BLOOD BENDER!

PART 4 - “Change Machine”

CYBORG just glided over silently

STEPPENWOLF + WONDER WOMAN = EPIC FIGHT SCENE

Seeing BARRY move like that to stop the debris and to ping DIANA’S sword really is amazing..

But he should not be screaming like that LOL

How do you not remember the planet that’s habitants almost killed you?? Because if that was me, I wouldn’t have forgotten that shit at all!

Would've held a big ass grudge until I could go back.

“I know we’re all thinking the same thing right now. Who’s gonna say it? I’m not gonna say it.” - BARRY

WOOOAAHHH J’ONN JONES?! (forgot about that)

“There are six, not five. There is no us without him.” - BRUCE

Damn, no faith at all

PART 5 - “ALL The King’s Horses”

ICONIC DIALOGUE

BARRY - “Wonder Woman. What do you think, man? You think she’d go for a younger guy?”

VICTOR - “She’s 5,000 years old, Barry. Every guy is a younger guy.”

I would’ve kept swippin’ that ID like a cashier at Wal-Mart swippin’ a debit card.

They're movin’ a little too slow for me. Ik they’ve never been on the ship before, but I would’ve been zoomin’ through that entire ship just to hurry and get the job done.

NOT THE PREGNANCY TEST

Damn, they couldn’t have at least picked up the photo??

The foreshadowing was spectacular! It will always amaze me.

I’m sure Allstate will cover that person’s car...

Just when LOIS was about to move on.

CLARK grabbed DIANA like miss me with that Rafiki shit.

I would’ve come back to my senses too after looking at Amy Adams.

AQUAMAN + THE FLASH = A CONUNDRUM

DR. SILAS takin’ one for the team

PART 6 - “Something Darker”

As crazy as radiation is, it’s quite an amazing spectacle.

I wish this Justice League movie could’ve held off until we got some other heroes such as the Green Lanterns, Hawkgirl, and many others.

Our generation was truly blessed to have an incredible actor as SUPERMAN, and we are not putting him to use!

JONATHAN sounds like President Biden lol

Alright, team?! Break!

AQUAMAN is totally enjoying this fight. He rode that Parademon like a surfboard.

AQUAMAN + CYBORG + FLASH = *THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN*

I swear every scene that WONDER WOMAN enters into does not fail to include the “Ancient Lamentation Music”.

VICTOR hurry up and say “one” god damnnit!!

SUPERMAN COLD!!!!

Somebody needs to put this fight on WorldStar

BARRY = HE’S A RUNNA HE’S A TRACK STAHHHHARRR!!!

THAT WAS FUCKING IMMACULATE

The Unity = The Three Bitchies

I bet DARKSEID will remember that shit now

EPILOGUE - “A Father Twice Over”

VICTOR = A Final Requiem

LOL VULKO and MERA look stressed tf out!

“Uh, I have too much to live for. And more important things to do.” - LEX

A cocky motherfucker LMAO

Alright, we’re back in this type of dream sequence.

“Who have you ever loved?” - MERA

Uh, bitch his parents, Robin tf?!

Thank you, JOKER, for stating the facts for Ms. Fish-stick

Oh shit, they let LOIS die, goddamn it!

HARLEY’S DEAD TOO?!?!?!

BRUCE LOOK SICK AF!!!

Well, the dream is over once again...

I just don’t see how people can live with all those fuckin’ windows.

“Oh, and some have called me The Martian Manhunter.” - J’ONN

Alright...

________

Yes, the movie was long but what needed to be expressed was. As we already the Snyder Cut wasn’t supposed to be seen because a father simply wanted to grieve the death of his child. I’ll once again reiterate what @verified-villain-fxcker you don't have to like the film but at least give it the benefit of the doubt from its predecessor. For me, I did enjoy watching his version, but let’s be honest what he who shall not be named did was just fucked up.

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deepdonutkid · 3 years

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Can I ask for multiple character break downs?👀

Well if I can, then would you please do one for Ada and one for Tommy and one for John

But if only one has to be done, then you can choose any one of these.

Thanks! <3

Thanks for the ask! 💞

Ada Thorne nee Shelby

How I feel about this character

Just love for her! She is adorable, strong, fierce, absolutely amazing! Ada and Polly are the best developed female character on the show. Mainly, because Tommy can’t fuck them, so they can’t be reduced to his love interest, which is such a good thing, because I love strong women. Makes me weak in my knees.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Freddie Thorne, Ben Younger, Jessie Eden, because Ada is bi, she just gives off that vibe, u know.

Somehow I prefer to read stuff with a female reader for her, more than a male reader for her. Because it’s either Freddie x Ada for me or Ada x female reader.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Lizzie, Polly, Ada and Linda are an amazing combination! She and Tommy have an interesting dynamic as well! I would have loved to see more John and Ada interactions, because they have not such a big age gap inbetween, so I think they are close. Especially after Ada got her child and John got married with Esme. Oh, Ada and Esme would have sooo much fun together. Esme would be like the sister Ada never had.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I think her character changed a lot between season 1 and 2, because of Freddie’s death and also after she joined the business again. Sometimes when I make memes or the alignment charts, I have two icons for her, one from first season and one from third season, because I think she is one of the characters who changed the most through the series. First season Ada would do a lot of things different and more naive than third season Ada. Mainly, because she still believed in communism in season 1 and she somehow lost her faith after losing Freddie. Which is super understandable tho.

She acutally becomes wiser with age... unlike her brothers, who just do the same shit over and over again.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wished Ben hadn’t died, because they kill her lovers even fast than Tommys. WTF, right?

On the other hand I wished Ada talked some sense into Jessie, to NOT SLEEP WITH TOMMY THE WHORE SHELBY! Because Ada knows her brother very well and I think she genuinely liked Jessie, or she liked her enough to save her from the pain of being Tommy’s toy or pleasure doll.

And I’m still bitter about the way they killed of Freddie... but more about that later...

Tommy Shelby

How I feel about this character

Relationship status: It’s complicated!

Yes, well, I ramble about Tommy’s shit a lot. I know! He is still an intersting character and it’s so tempting to think about his actions in certain situations, but if I would meet him as a person- I would hate him from the bottom of my heart! <3

He is such an asshole all the time and when I first watched the show, I forgave him a lot he did to his siblings, because I was caught up with his good looks and the presentation of him being the good guy who does bad things to survive. But I spend some time to think about his actions and I noticed, he is an awful human being... to Polly, to his siblings, to his lover and actually to everyone. He might think he does all those mean things to archive a bigger goal, but he is just a gambling addict who can’t stop taking risks he isn’t even prepared for.

Shitty things Tommy has done over time:

Forcing his brother to marry somebody, John didn’t even know at that time, to end a feud, Tommy had started himself and only when it was in his favour to end it, he used John as pawn, so he could archive his plan. HOW FUCKED UP WAS THAT? Nobody seems to talk about this. It was fucking awful! And the way he did it was horrible to! Tommy said nothing to John until the very last moment, when they were already surrounded by enemies, so John couldn’t said no. It also shows, that Tommy thinks he is above his siblings. Tommy thought John wasn’t capable of chosing a wife for himself, so Tommy did that for him too. Even when John didn’t ask for this at all!

Destroying Ada’s relationship with Freddie and chasing his best friend out of town, just because... TOMMY WAS AGAINGST HIS SISTER HAVING A RELATIONSHIP. and yet he proclaimes to listen to woman and to give them a fair change. Maybe just not for our dear Ada!

Destroying Arthur’s marriage, because he kept dragging Arthur into shit, he wasn’t mentally stable enough for. Putting thoughts of rejecting Linda into Arthur’s head, by talking bad about Linda and making jokes about her any given time.

Sleeping with Lizzie over and over again, even when he knew she loved him and when she tried to get over him by dating someone new, he made the order to burn down the pub of Angel, humilated his family, and have him killed later.

Sleeping with Jessie, so he could use her

Humiliate Polly, when she was at her lowest, after Rueben had left her

Drag Michael into the illegal business after Polly begged him not to

Dragging Finn into all this shit after John died, because John wasn’t avaiable anymore

Calling Grace a whore, when they first met

Paying Lizzie in his head, even after she stopped being a sex worker

Helping a fascist

I could go on for a while, but you see my point here!

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Nobody! I want to see him miserable and alone! Honestly I’m never going to read all these soft!Tommy fics or whatever, because they really don’t interest me. I don’t want to see him happy.

But go have fun people and write and read whatever you want!

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Tommy and Lizzie, because they have a sexual relationship, which is not based on romance and I love this sad and depressing dynamic between them. It’s so interesting to write and read about.

Tommy and Ada are great in the show. I love their talks and Ada actually points out when Tommy is acting like a douche again.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I have a lot... where should I start?

I get so annoyed, when I see Tommy shown as a twink, because the actor is just 1,70m... which is not small to me. I know a lot of men around that height and I think they are average and not small. Also a lot of men feel bad for not being tall enough, because everywhere in our society it’s normal to have a tall man and a small woman. And the way tall man or small man are sexualized in this alpha/omega thing or in a top/bottom dynamic is so... meh. It’s really uncomfortable to see how people try to push the patriarchal man-woman dynamic into same-sex relationships.

Tommy is a class traitor and a horrible husband.

Man, I could rant for hours, but I stop right here. Just remember, please don’t feel attacked, I don’t mean to attack you. Even if you write or draw... whatever with Tommy, I would never say something bad about this. Enjoy creating Tommy content, I will love to ignore it!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I was so disappointed when they killed Freddie, because those two could have had an interesting and compelling relationship. Freddie could have been a great frenemie. I put this here and on on Ada, because their marriage wouldn’t changed the plot as much as Freddies and Tommys friendship. Tommy would have been a way better person, if Freddie was around.

John Shelby

How I feel about this character

MY HUSBAND! I love him and he has never done anything wrong in his life.

Nah, John has many faults, but I still adore him as a character, because his faults are actually making the plot more interesting. I also read, that he and Tommy fight a lot, because John is more moral and has way more integrity than his older brother. It was just hinted in the show, but I love this side fact and I will base my whole characterisation this.

I love to write, draw and read stuff with him. He is my favorite character from Peaky blinders and my love will never die, even though he did.

Funny tho, when I first watched PB, I adored Tommy and was annoyed by John, but as I rewatched it I changed my mind about those two.

He had so much potential and I would spend all my money, which is not much, but the devotions counts, to see a spin-off with just John and his army of children.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Esme, because they are sooo cute together!

My OFC, because I love writing them.

Any reader, because I’m a sucker for John.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

All kinds of interactions with other characters and John are great! My favorite is John and Ada to be honest. But here are other dynamics I adore as well:

John & Polly, (she would help him a lot with the kids)

John & Arthur (they come to the garrison to drink and play cards, they talk a lot about their problems, deep bond here)

John & Tommy (in my head they are always fighting)

John & Lizzie, because they have a great friendship, and they helped each other a lot. She spend time with the kids and he gave her financial support, so she would quit her job, which she didn’t do, because she feared being all alone again, and she has trust issues) (I’m actually writing a fic about these two)

John & his kids (I’m soft for dad!John)

John & Michael (especially in season three, because John seems to be jealous of Michael)

My unpopular opinion about this character

John is not completely stupid. Well, he is certainly not smart, but he works in the betting shop, and Arthur does not, or not really, because Arthur is bad at math... John at least knows his numbers. And also Tommy chose him to be the legal bookie over the others, so John must do a good job there. He just never got a degree or something similar like Michael. Which is also a reason, why John seems to be bitter about Michael joining the business. Michael was put in a higher position than he did.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

This one is obvious... John should have survived.

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dastardlydandelion · 3 years

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I wish you would write a fic where Susan got to keep her baby for once.

well. hm. what would this look like in my hands. okay, okay, so in this particular scenario, i actually imagine neil was putting 2 + 2 together and finding out susan's preggo right after the move. like, even before susan does. and she's all kinds of alarmed but neil is?? oddly excited?

he's all like, "isn't this great? we get to have a new baby in this new town. what a perfect way to cement our brand new life, huh?"

and susan doesn't want to be hopeful but with neil's positive reaction, she tentatively feels hope anyway. maybe things rly will be different, right?

continues under the cut bc this got fucking long.

yeah, well, neil's good mood lasts until it's actually born and responsibilities ensue. he never had to deal with billy as a baby rly, bc billy's mom took care of that part and also, like. in this 'verse at least, billy was a low-maintenance baby. didn't cry much. maybe he did at first but like, after being dropped on the head a couple times, he just went quiet and didn't rly bother anybody after that. wouldn't get loud again until elementary age. and max didn't come into neil's life until she was even elementary age, so defo past all the baby stuff.

the new infant tho screams like a mofo. everybody in the house is on edge. sleep is hard to come by for the whole household. the care and keeping responsibilities mostly fall on susan but neil holds it against her every. single. time. he has to change a diaper or hold a bottle, as if it's some major failing on susan's part that he should ever have to do anything like this at all.

max tries to help but she can't even hold the baby tbh. it makes her v uncomfortable, she never gets it right and doesn't know what to do when it squirms!! what if she drops it!? plus she thinks baby smells weird even when it's got a clean diaper, an unappealing mashed food and powder combo with a lingering whiff of wet rubber. and billy. is billy. he has to watch it sometimes, naturally. if it's just him and baby at home, he'll blast his stereo to cover up the crying, as long as he knows its other needs have been tended to. like, yk, the "it'll cry itself to sleep eventually," approach. which works actually. metallica becomes the go-to baby lullaby.

but lo and behold, when it's like, let's say 6 months or smth, baby gets an ear infection. like babies do. won't stop wailing. just. will NOT stop. v much in pain and has no other means of communication. neil and max are home. billy is on a date. susan's stuck in a long line at the grocery store. neil had a shitty day at work and he's already aggravated. pacifier isn't working, lil thing just keeps hollering, so. in a burst of frustration, he starts throttling baby. max is in her own room but hears it the second the noises change and hurries to help, blood ice cold.

she stops neil from killing baby sibling but gets a black eye and a bloody nose for her troubles. this is what susan comes home to. i've written a lot of susan kills neil scenarios but i think this is the first one that comes to mind where in this round, it really is out of anger and not fear. both are present, ofc. but the actual act on her part is one of anger. bc she feels stupid that he ever had her the slightest bit convinced a new baby would make anything better. that neil ever made her feel like he'd be better and instead, he chose to be even worse. susan ties him to the bedposts under the guise of a sex thing, convincing neil she wants to treat him to smth special bc he's been oh so stressed out lately. bashes his brains in with a hammer at least 20 times, a la sally challen style.

alas, reality commences and susan goes to prison. ig a long time ago there was this made for tv movie abt this lady killing her abusive husband by setting the bed aflame that gave the public the misconception that women who kill their abusers are typically acquitted, but uh, that's not true. yeah, it was true for the lady whom the movie was based off of, but usually they're convicted and serve unduly harsh sentences for their "crimes." but if i get on that soap box, we gonna be here the whole fucking day, so, moving on now. susan's off to the big house. albeit both baby and max's injuries are documented and considered mitigating circumstances so her charges are reduced from first degree murder to voluntary manslaughter with the potential for early release.

billy's close to 19 so he's an adult, if only technically speaking. has custody of baby and max. i've decided baby in this 'verse is amab but will eventually come out as trans when she's abt ten yrs old. billy tries his best. max tries her best too. baby's nickname is ducky bc the rubber duck?? by far the favorite toy!! baby p much lives in the bathtub, playing with the rubber duck. billy, who would move them back to cali in a heartbeat if it wasn't so far from susan's prison, defo relates. he's also aquatic by nature.

okay, so the move back to cali does happen. over the months of her kids coming to visit her in prison susan can see how exhausted the teenagers are and she's p much just like, 'u guys gotta go. get outta this rural heckhole u hate, stop bringing urselves n my bby to this dismal place.' and they don't think she's serious but the next time they come to visit, she doesn't meet them, so. yup. serious it is. billy, max, n baby take neil's life insurance money and head off to cali.

this is a modern au, okay, inmates sneaking smartphones into the prison n all that. so susan makes deals and friends and does favors, and gets some help from the ones who are good at bitcoin and scams and counterfeiting and what have you. this enables her to do discreet online "shopping." so she gets ducky all kinds of rubber ducks, at least a handful of times a year. the ducks get more unique and less childish as ducky grows. susan apologizes almost every time she talks to the older kids on the phone for like, five yrs. max isn't rly angry with how things ended with neil tho, more so has that residual anger that susan ever got together with neil in the first place. billy doesn't rly know what to feel tbh, accepts the apologies p numbly bc he's too damn exhausted with being the primary caregiver in over his head to even think abt how he feels at the end of the day.

susan gets released on good behavior around the same time ducky comes out, announcing she's a girl. it's an adjustment for billy and max to get used to bc they never rly suspected, but they're 100% supportive. susan is...oddly excited? not for selfless reasons (tho she is earnestly supportive) but bc it's like. not only does that mean trashing the masculine deadname neil had adamantly declared for ducky, but it means all in all, she got out at the perfect time bc she gets to be introduced to the authentic version of her child along w errbody else. makes her feel less left behind, like she didn't miss out on errything despite being put away for a decade. susan moves in with all of them, obvi, in a small house by the seaside filled to the brim with rubber ducks (billy and max also contributed to ducky's collection on birthdays and holidays, the first duck billy ever got has skulls, and the first max ever got is a frankenstein monster duck). home is cluttered, awkward, and tentative but free of fear and ripe with *genuine* new beginnings.

believe me, anonymoose, i am just as surprised as u are at how fuckin long this got.

#ask box #susan hargrove #max mayfield #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #anonymoose #thanks for playing!#ask meme #ask game #child oc

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putflowersinmyhair-callmepretty · 4 years

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The fate of a nun (Finan x OFC); part 3

GENERAL A/N: Hi there! This story is my first attempt to write a fanfiction. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know how to improve my writing/language skills 😊 I will try and post a chapter per week, let’s see how it goes! The story takes place in season 3 and you will notice that I have used some of the sequences and dialogues from the tv series, changing them to include my OC. I did try not to be too colloquial and informal with my writing -giving the time of the story- but I preferred to make it more enjoyable than realistic, same goes for Finan’s accent. I’m nervous and excited to share my work, hope you enjoy! Bacini, Cate.

A/N: Ciao dolcezze! Hope your doing well! I’ve been super busy with my master’s degree but the chapter’s here! Hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. There’s a lot of Finan here, finally! Have the nicest week! Bacetti, Cate!

Summary: The life of the young novice Aoife completely changes when the Lady of Mercia arrives to the Abbey of Wincelcumb. Oaths, battles and love will turn her in a warrior.

General warnings: Violence, Blood, Strong Language, Smut, Fluff, Graphic description of violence

Chapter’s warning: Mention of blood, angst, fluff

Words: 4455 Chapter Two.

Chapter Three: Injures and betrayal

“I will not let you fight this battle, Aoife.” Uthred repeated. Aoife had tried all day long to convince him to let her fight, and even now that they were preparing the horses to leave Aylesbury, she was not desisting. She had pleaded him to the point where she knew she was appearing pathetic, but she wanted to begin her new life as a warrior and that battle was an opportunity for her to prove her strength. She was scared of course, every time she closed her eyes she could see the young Dane she had killed; she wasn’t very sure she liked to kill, but she had spent too much time doing nothing but standing next to Aethelflaed, feeling an intruder in such important manners. And more than that, killing Haesten – or being part of the battle that would eventually kill him – was the only way for her to revenge her Abbess’ death. She was aware that her mind and attitude was quickly changing; she had always had a temper, but she was one for peace and forgiveness; of course, a fight in the nunnery was nothing compared to the siege she had found herself fighting back, but she was still scared of how quickly that dark part of her was emerging and she had to learn how to control it. Not now, though, now she needed that darkness to keep giving her the courage to plead the Dane warrior to bring her into battle. “Lord Uthred, let me fight!” Exasperated, Uthred held her shoulders tight, shaking her just enough to catch her attention and shut her up. “You will listen to me now, woman. You had sworn your sword to Aethelflaed and she’s still in danger. You will prove your value by protecting her. It is and order, have I been clear?” The warriors had left that same evening, bidding their goodbyes to the two women as if they were going for a hunt and not to face death. Finan had smoothly kissed the back of Aoife’s hand before mounting on his horse, and she had felt her cheeks turning red and warm at the contact. He was so confident, Aoife could easily guess that he was experienced with women; he knew the tricks to make a lady fall at his feet. Not that he needed tricks, he was a warrior, a handsome one to say the least; and while his scars promised troubles, his smile could soothe the most turbulent soul. Father Beocca was right, he could well be a prince of the dark and she would follow him to hell without complaints. Standing next to Aethelflaed and Edward, she watched the warriors leave the security of the fortress and disappear in the distance. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever see them again, if they would fight together again or if they would just greet her the few times they would meet, until forgetting her name. She was sure she could never forget that weird group of warriors, especially the mysterious prince of the night. That same night, Aoife effectively took on the role of guard of Aethelflaed. At supper time, she was even able to make Steapa smile with her overprotective attitude. The Lady herself cracked a smile and asked her to relax, they were safe there and she should enjoy the food as much as she could; who knew how long it would take before they would taste meat like that again. Aethelflaed then asked for her to wait outside her rooms while she ate and confronted her husband. She was playing with her dagger, sat on a chair, ear pricked and muscles ready to step in if required. In that moment she felt like a true guard. She wondered if Uthred would be proud of her keeping her promise as well as she could. Anyway, she was confident – and again she was being arrogant – she could win over “Lord” Aethelred smoothly, she had subdue braver pigs. She could hear talking, even some commotion, but nothing to be afraid of, and before the moon reached the peak of the sky, the Lord of Mercia had already left the rooms, without acknowledging the presence of the warrior lady against the wall. When they woke up the morning after, they discovered that Alfred had reluctantly accepted to support Uthred in the battle. Aoife was relieved, Alfred’s numbers would increase the chances of success of Uthred’s plan. A plan that she thought was quite stupid: too much was being left to fate and probability, but what did she know? She was just a nun after all. When the day came, Aoife woke up with bad feelings clenching her stomach. She was fearing for the life of Uthred and his men. Aethelflaed had then asked her to get ready to help the injured. She cut pieces of clothes and drawn water from the well all day long, but it had not put her mind to rest. She was spending too much time by herself, thinking of how many men could have already fallen under Danes’ strokes. She had spent most of her monastic life helping the physician of the monastery, growing healing plants, cauterizing wounds and staying next to the dying patients until their last breath, it was not the idea of blood and death to make her hands shake, it was the fear of finding out that her new friends were injured and being unable to save them In the afternoon, she was praying in the chapel when a messenger came. He was bringing a letter from Uthred. The battle had been won, and they were invited to ride to Aethelflaed’s estate, where they would be joined by him and his men. “I’m surprised he knew how to write!” Aoife commented and they laughed, until the laughs became tears, of relief and happiness. In less than an hour, they gathered the horses, belongings and guards and before dawn they left Aylesbury. Aoife couldn’t stop smiling. Saltwic, Mercia Saltwic was a welcoming place. Aoife’s room was right next to Aethelflaed’s, of course. Inside, there was a big, comfortable bed, with a clean chamber pot next to it. There was also a fireplace, with a small wooden tub and a kettle filled with fresh water. She put the kettle on the fire and let the water warm up while she undressed. After the stay in Aylesbury and the ride to Saltwic, her clothes needed to be washed; she, too, was covered in dust and sweat and she sat in the tub for a long time, rubbing her body with a clean cloth until her skin turned red; she took her time to wash her hair and brush it with the small wooden comb she had taken from her room in the nunnery. It made her sad to think of what she had left there: her books, her chessboard, her mother’s doll. However, she smiled thinking about the Abbess, which would have lectured her on the volatility of earthly goods, “All we need – she would have said – is God’s love and mercy.” On the opposite, Sister Aeskel, the physician, would have laughed and hugged her, reassuring her: she would not have the time to read, nor to play chess, living as a warrior, and she was too old to still own a doll. Her belonging would have forever been a remainder of that young girl that had grown up with them and then had left the nest. Only thinking about her, Aoife was happy again. She hoped Aeskel was all right. There was a light knock on the door and Aethelflaed came in without waiting for an answer; she looked happy, almost excited, not at all bothered by Aoife’s nakedness. She, on the opposite, was quickly becoming red from embarrassment. “I have something for you.” the Lady chirped and only then Aoife noticed she was holding something in her arms. “Lady.” she protested “You have to stop buying me gifts, you’ve done enough for a lifetime.” “Oh hush. I noticed that you looked very uncomfortable in my dress and I wanted you to wear something more… appropriate to your role.” she sat on the bed and, with a proud smile, showed her friend what she had brought. They were clothes, as Aoife had already guessed from her words, but not the common clothes of a lady. There were two tunics, one red and one blue, a linen shirt, two pairs of brown trousers and brown shoes. “I asked my seamstresses to have them ready for our arrival” Aethelflaed said “are you happy?” Aoife was at loss of words “Happy? Lady, this is too much!” “It is not.” her friend assured “Also, the blacksmith is working on your warrior clothes, but it is going to take some time. And here” she threw are a small leather bag “your first payment.” Inside the bag there were five pieces of silver, Aoife shook her head vigorously “Lady, this is too much!” and she tried to give the money back. Aethelflaed held her hands, closing Aoife’s fingers around the bag “You have been a great guard and a great friend, Aoife. You deserve all of this and more for risking your life for me. Stop being stubborn and accept my way to say thank you.” For the first time since they had met, Aoife hugged Aethelflaed. There was a stream within walking distance from Aethelflaed’s estate. After two days of doing nothing, Aoife decided that she needed some type of normalcy in her life and, when the sun reached its peak, she walked to the stream, a basket of dirty clothes under her arm. It was a cold winter day, of course, and her hands, dipped in the water, soon turned blue. Nonetheless, she found quite calming to rub the linen on the stones, smoothed by the repetitive movement of the stream. The sun was almost setting when she heard the soft drumming of hooves on snow. And there they were, the men of Cookham, covered in dirt and blood and riding slowly towards Saltwic. There were also prisoners, Danes, who were coughing and stumbling in the white cold ground. Aoife collected the wet clothes in the hamper and run back to the estate. Her heart was beating fast, and she tried to suppress the desire to see the Irishman again. She had thought that being away from him would ease her passion, but she was wrong, and she run faster to reach him, to be sure he was fine. Aethelflaed was already in the hall when Aoife arrived, and invited her to leave the wet clothes to the servants and prepare herself to assist the injured. On her time in Wincelcumb, she had the pleasure to assist Aoife during her working hours in the infirmary. Most of the injured had been nuns who had hurt themselves working, but, once or twice, peasants had come asking for help with more serious injuries. Aethelflaed had watched Aoife cauterize wounds and heal ulcers without flinching. “God guides my hand.” she used to answer to her amazed face. It had been her strength and composure to play a fundamental role in her decision to bring Aoife with her. Aethelflaed watched her sweetly; that and the instant fondness she felt for her. Uthred was the first to enter the hall, followed closely by Sithric and Finan and then by the rest of his men. Aoife could see that a couple of warriors were missing, but the presents didn’t look injured. They were tired, cold and hungry, however, and Aethelflaed invited them all to sit. Aoife had waited to see the warrior for days and yet, now that he was right in front of her, she couldn’t look him in the eyes. Had she done that, she would have found him already watching her fondly, yet tiredly. He had found himself thinking about her, once or twice during the mission. She had been a pleasant surprise from the beginning, and he would be a fool not to be attracted by pretty women. And she was, without doubt, extremely pretty. Seeing her, all busy in her role of healer, with her dark hair back in a braid – single braid for a unmarried woman, her cheeks and nose all red for the cold, he had forgot about more urgent manners. Manners that Uthred spare no time to address. “Osferth is at the alehouse. He’s injured.” Uthred said and before he could even sit down, Aoife had grabbed her cloak and was already running outside. She had grown fond of the monk, and without more information, she could not help but imagine the worst. Was her too late? She hoped not, she had yet to know him well and she did not want to lose a friend, or a potential friend. “Aoife wait!” someone shouted from behind her and she slowed down to let Finan reach her. She didn’t ask him why he followed her, he needed food and to sit near the fire for a while, but she could see how worried he looked. Knowing that he would not rest until Osferth was safe, she let him come her to the alehouse. He showed her the way up the stairs, to the last room down the corridor, one of the few with a door. Aoife tried not to show interest in the unholy events that were taking place in the other rooms but Finan caught her peeking in one of them and couldn’t repress a smile. Such an innocent creature she was. Osferth was laying on the bed, looking more tired than in pain, but probably he was just trying to be strong; the left part of his tunic was covered in blood, most of it dark enough to be dry, some of it a bright red. She needed to stop the bleeding. “Hi Osferth.” she greeted, taking off her cloak and kneeling at his side. She smiled sweetly, as Sister Aeskel had taught her, to appear calm and confident “Do you mind if I take a look at your wound?”. The boy nodded weakly, smiling lightly and she pulled out a knife from under her tunic to cut apart the fabric of his robe; slowly, being it stuck to his skin. The wound was wide but not deep, thank goodness. The bleeding was easy to stop, but she had to carefully clean it to prevent the infection. With a good bandage and some poultice he would be as good as new in no time. She had the kindness to tell him to, patting his cheek as if he was still a young boy. Finan was amused by the interaction, never had he seen Osferth at such ease with someone he had barely met. There was something about that girl that made everyone feel safe in taking their guard down with her. It was a powerful weapon. Only then, he noticed that she wasn’t wearing a dress anymore but the clothes of a warrior: tunic, trousers and the belt with weapons around her waist. There was something about masculine clothes around her feminine curves that aroused him greatly and he was more than happy to leave the room when she asked him to fetch some fresh water to clean the wound. “I do not deserve your assistance, lady.” the monk mumbled when they were left alone, his voice was barely audible “I cannot even use a sword.” She was checking for others injures, but there were just bruises and light cuts, and pondered for a moment whether to answer him or pretend not to have heard him. She opted for the first “But you fought, didn’t you? And with great disadvantage.” She raised her eyes to his face, he was already watching her “I’m sure you’ve been great help and I am even more sure that Lord Uthred would tell the same. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been so worried about you.” Before he could argue, Finan came back with a pot of water and a cloth. “To clean.” he explained, waving the peace of fabric, and Osferth could swear he was blushing. Aoife shot the warrior one of her already infamous smile “What a brilliant helper.” she murmured and took both things from Finan’s hands “Thank you.” Both men had heard that, and while Osferth tried to dissimulate a laugh with a cough, Finan couldn’t really care about his friend making fun of him – he would surely have told it to the others later – because he had recognized that tone of voice, many women had addressed him with such tone. She was playing at courtship. From that moment on, he became a source of distraction, following her around and staring at her openly. If she wanted to play that game, she had to know who she was competing against. Soon, she was too shy to keep working knowing that Finan was watching every move she made, touching her ever so slightly when she was close enough; all with that charming smile of him. And when she risked to make Osferth bleed again – she pushed too hard on his stomach, making him scream in pain and the wound stretched dangerously – Finan was sent downstairs again to ask for broth and ale while Aoife finished her work. She smeared some poultice, the one that helped fasten the healing and prevent infection, on the cut before covering it with a clean piece of fabric. When Finan came back, Aoife and him had to force Osferth, with threats and pleas, to eat and drink something before falling asleep. He was acting like a child, really, but he was not to blame; he had lost much blood and experienced very traumatic events; he was scared and unable to sleep. Finan and Aoife sat next to him, one on each side, and talked with him, about everything and nothing, until his breath became regular and he fell asleep. And then, they were left alone. Finan, who until that moment had acted confident and smug, suddenly found himself at loss of word and shied away from her eyes, so deep yet open, so clear yet unreadable. “You should rest too, Finan.” Aoife said, standing up to clean the room. She turned around when he didn’t answer and he shot her a tired smile under his unkept beard. “Don’t worry, lady. It’s not my first battle.” He said “And it’s not easy for a warrior to rest after such events.” Only then Aoife noticed the trickle of fresh blood running down his forehead and on his cheek. “You’re hurt!” she cried out, running to him and taking his face in her hands. Finan was shaken to the core by that touch and unwound against the palm of her hand. He hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in a long time, but that didn’t justify the fastening of his heart, nor the complete inability to control his body. “Let me clean you up.” she whispered sweetly, and he simply nodded, closing his eyes and leaning against the chair. While cleaning the cut she could see her hands shaking, it was not the blood, nor the wound, it was touching him. With one hand she was keeping his hair back, away from his forehead, and it was softer that she expected from someone who spent most time outside and riding his horse. The thumb of her other hand brushed against his skin every time she patted on the cut, his skin rough for the wind and the battle. What surprised her the most was that, under the smell of the battle – of sweat and blood and iron, there was such a sweet scent of wood and salt water, and she wanted to bury her face in the crook of his neck and smell him, and taste his skin with the tip of her tongue. The nun in her was outraged by those unholy, impure thoughts; the woman in her was laughing, finally free by the chain of the Abbey. She was young and he was desirable, she was more then justified in those thoughts. Finan enjoyed every touch of her soft skin and somewhere in his mind he knew she was taking her time too. He was suppressing himself from reasoning; she was young, innocent and inexperienced; while he was older, malicious and he was taking advantage of her juvenile feelings because, after such a long time alone, he needed the affection. He did not really want to think about the fact that no other woman had made his heart pump as strong and his skin crawl as she was doing right there, only by cleaning a cut. He would have worried about it later. Too soon, however, Osferth burst their bubble, groaning and turning in his sleep. Aoife stumble backwards, suddenly aware of her actions. She turned away from the Irishman, cutting, perhaps forever, the thread of complicity and intimacy that they had just created. She bended over Osferth, covering her face with her hair, to shield him from seeing how affected she was by what had just happened. When he tried to say something, she stopped him, raising a hand, and with the lower, tiniest voice she had ever used, she said “Go back to the hall, Finan. I shall stay a little longer with Osferth.” There was no answer but a slam and when she turned around, he was gone. They day after was spent in celebration. Finan was not sure how Osferth and Aethelflaed had managed to convince Aoife to participate, but he was very grateful. Firstly, because she looked particularly pretty in that specific day; a clean green vest was embracing her body in such a lovely way that Finan had to discreetly adjust himself in his trousers more than once. Secondly, it looked like she was enjoying drinking ale, the redness spreading on her full cheeks. She was laughing loudly with Aethelflaed and even if he cannot hear what they were talking about, he was grateful to be standing right in front of her. He had smoothly withdrawn himself from the conversation with Sithric and other warriors and leant against the back of the chair, staring at her. And everybody had noticed that, including her. He didn’t care, though, he liked how she was squirming under his gaze. He knew that she too was thinking about the day before, about how their bodies had searched each other. He had felt something unusual, a need of a deeper and more intimate connection, and while part of him was scared, the other was intrigued, almost happy to be back on having feelings of the sort. He had imagined, once or twice, how his life would be with a wife and children, but the ghosts of his past were still hunting him, and they would probably be hunting him forever. They were the reason he had left abruptly the day before; those and knowing that she was ashamed of being that close to him. Of course, she was not to blame, she could have – and she deserved – a better man, a younger, smarter, easier man than him. And it made his heart ache. As always, he was rushing his feelings; he had only known her for a few days and there was also the possibility that all that desire was just a consequence of his need to give into his urges. As the right hand of Uthred of Bebbanburg, he spent long periods of time without touching a woman, especially now, with the outlaw situation and everything. Aoife was young and beautiful and such a complicated combination of strength and innocence; it was not unusual that he was aroused by her. As did most of the men in the room; he could say. He could not blame them for looking at her hungrily, but he could surely hate them. He was proud, however, that it was not their gazes to get her on edge, only his. Their eyes met, and he raised his cup in her direction, making her smile a little and blush profusely. Pretty girl. Before dawn, Aoife had helped Osferth to his room. Dinner was being serve in the hall and Uthred had ordered for the prisoners to be fed too; Aoife did not like the idea of eating under the same roof as them and she was feeling more tired than hungry; therefore, she retreated in her room and was fast asleep. Had she known, she would have never left Finan’s side. She woke up at first light, as every other day. She decided to go pray before visiting Osferth and when she left church, people were already working. After her time alone with God, she was feeling peaceful and she walked to the alehouse singing under her breath. Her spirit changed when she entered Osferth’s room. He was not alone, Finan was sitting on the bed next to the monk, head in his hands. Osferth too looked shaken. “What’s wrong?” she asked concerned, running to her patient “Are you feeling sick?” The young monk shook his head, but it was the Irishman to answer. “Sithric is gone.” Aoife shot Osferth a confused look “He betrayed us, lady.” the monk explained “He fought with Uthred yesterday and this morning he was gone. And with him, the prisoners.” His voice was plain, but she could see in his eyes that he was suffering. Finan wasn’t even trying to hide how much the betrayal had affected him; he was clearly upset, and Aoife could understand why. Among all Uthred’s men, Sithric was Finan closest friend and his betrayal was making him doubt that relation. Aoife too was shaken; she did not know the man well, but she was sure about his loyalty to Uthred and his companions. She had seen him laugh his heart out, joking and playing with the others as if they were family. It was weird. And by the face of the two men in front of her, it was worse that if he was dead. Aoife could not find the right words to comfort them and she hoped that her presence would be enough, or at least well accepted. With a small smile to Osferth, she sat down next to Finan, as close as possible, and she delicately reached to hold his hand in hers. His skin was warm and rough, as she remembered, and he stiffened under her touch, not used to affection. Then he slowly relaxed, his thumb grazing over her knuckles. The three spent hours in silence on that uncomfortable bed in that bad smelling room, Osferth laying on one side, Finan and Aoife sitting on the other, hand in hand. Chapter Four.

#finan #finan x oc #finan x ofc #finan fic #finan the agile #the last kingdom #the last kingdom finan #the last kingdom finan fic #the last kingdom fictions #tlk #tlk finan #uthred #sithric #osferth #aethelflaed #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfictions #writing

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parismelodies · 3 years

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caleo

that’s the title, caleo. there are a few discussions/headcannons i want to talk about and ways for them to get together that isn’t how it is now, so that’s the point of this little tangent!

first, we need to talk about leo. not a lot of people like caleo because it was rushed, but i actually didn’t really mind it. now yes, i thought it was stupid that a 16 (?) year-old was so obsessed with finding someone but i kind of get it now. imagine 7 people all being under IMMENSE stress from trying to save the whole world, and in the middle of all of that is leo. all of the seven were paired up, they had someone to talk about their struggles to, someone to cuddle or cry with while they’re on the ship, and leo is just here talking to festus🤠 so yeah, if i were in his situation i think i’d feel the same way even if he was annoying.

okay, now to the next part i wanted to discuss. a lot of people are saying the calypso should have become a hunter. now yeah, that would have been an amazing way to let calypso gain self independence, but hear me out... she could have just stayed single🤯 do people not understand there is a way for women to stay single without pledging male relationships away and becoming semi-immortal 😛 the hunters of artemis do a lot of work and i think calypso just needs time to focus on herself and her hobbies before even thinking about starting a relationship again. she definitely doesn’t need to become a hunter of artemis, especially right away, and so i don’t like that headcannon. the real question is why couldn’t her & leo’s festus adventure around the world have been platonic😐 leo showing calypso how earth is now because she hasn’t seen it in forever is a cute way to build up to caleo, instead of a romantic trip.

now the second way i imagined it going was very simple.

leo: *saves calypso*

calypso: *gets on festus*

calypso: hey leo, i just wanted you to understand that we aren’t going to be one of those fairytales where they have a happily ever after. we will get into fights and we might break up. don’t think that just because you saved me im guaranteed to stay with you forever, okay?

now this is in a soft voice would have been perfection😩 ofc she thanks him for saving her but this little dialogue acknowledges the fact that she might not be ready for a life long relationship and there is a possibility of them breaking up because they just weren’t compatible 🤷‍♀️

anyways, the last version! they get together... yadyyada... tdp happens... and they realize their relationship isn’t working so calypso focuses on her study while leo graduates early and gets a degree in mechanical engineering. they’re still friends ofc, since the relationship ended in a friendly way, but they move on with that part of their life🙃

that’s it!! caleo is cute but i’ve never seen them as a long term thing, especially in the way rick portrayed them. i honestly have a fanfic idea about this but i’ll probably never do it because i just made it up in my head but can’t think of an ending😐

#percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #leo valdez #calypso #caleo

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blog-sliverofjade · 4 years

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7: Tête Dure Minous

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary: Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas.

Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself.

While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.

Word count: 2018

Content warning: Racist cop

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the wonderful pandabearer

Lorel bared her teeth at him when a wave of power washed into the shop; it tasted wild, male, and lethal. She tore her attention away from the cop in time to see Remi stalking through the open door. Her cat went from snarling and ready to pounce to wary watchfulness in the presence of a bigger predator. She hated that some of her anxiety eased the moment she caught his scent, but at least her cat’s homicidal urges went from screaming to a dull roar.

And damned if she wasn’t relieved to see Denier, like he was some sort of knight in shining armour. Or, rather, a knight in jeans and a t-shirt. Said jeans hung low on his hips, emphasizing his narrow waist in contrast to the breadth of his chest. The black t-shirt clung to the ridges and hollows of his densely muscled chest and wide shoulders.

“Mr. Denier, she here one of your’n?” Shank turned square to him and jerked his head in Lorelei’s direction.

“All changelings in Swain County are mine.”

She opened her mouth to protest the hard, possessive statement, but Remi cut her off with a look, the cat rising in his eyes. Although they never changed colour, her own cat recognized his and urged her to back down. The animal usually urged the opposite; the sudden shift in temperament had her scrabbling to regain her equilibrium after she’d prepared to fight for control.

Even though the sheriff was human, some latent instincts must have sensed something because he dropped his folded arms to hook his thumbs behind his belt. Remi’s gaze didn’t stray from Shaw’s, but she had no doubt that he was keeping careful track of the cop’s hands in relation to his weapons.

“Ya need to get your girl in line. Had a call she was intimidatin’ folk.” Shank levelled him with a hard look below thick, dark brows.

The thought that either of them believed she was under his protection soothed something within that she hadn’t even known had been stretched taut. The relief was like setting down a burden she’d been carrying for so long she only recognized the strain once it was gone. And that set her teeth on edge.

“The CCTV footage doesn’t corroborate the allegation.” There was a drawl to his voice, but it lacked the thickness of the bayou it’d had when they first met.

“Yer a big guy, what a young girl’d find intimidatin’ you’d hardly sneeze at,” he shrugged.

“Are charges being pressed?” Remi merely tilted his head and, somehow, she knew that his leopard was close to the surface even though his eyes continued to remain completely human.

Some long-buried instinct in Shaw must have recognized it, too, because the hand closest to his stunner twitched. Claws burst from Lorel’s fingertips. For once, she didn’t try to force them back in. Remi, however, kept his hands in his pockets. Only a fool would miss the lethal threat hidden beneath the lazy demeanour. How on earth he managed to hold the alpha’s stare, full of barely restrained savagery, she had no idea.

“Naw, I think we’ll let this’un go with a warnin’.” Shaw shrugged and resettled his hat. “But you best show your girl how things are ‘round here.”

Shocked speechless by the blatant paternalism, she could only gape at him.

“Oh? And just how are ‘things ‘round here’?” Remi’s tone was deceptively calm, but whatever the other man saw on his face had drained the blood from his own.

“Well, that… you see…” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. “You can’t just go ‘round intimidating people you don’t like!”

“I think you should take your own advice, officer.” The predator was present in his voice. “Cher, why don’t you make a copy of that video for Sheriff Shaw here?” He never looked away from the cop so the silent snarl she threw his way went unnoticed.

“Testosterone’s getting thick in here anyway,” she muttered in a volume pitched for his ears alone.

Once Lorelei was out of the room, the red haze fogging his mind cleared a little and he could think clearly again. Shaw, on the other hand, realized he was alone in a room with a leopard in human skin, which meant he was less likely to do something stupid to prove his masculinity in front of a third, feminine party. Men could usually be counted on to pull supremely senseless stunts when it came to pretty women. Such as issuing premature ultimatums instead of merely taking the measure of a prospective packmate.

“Now look here…” the sheriff licked his lips.

“I assume the human will be charged with filing a false report?” He leaned against the cash counter, bracing his hands against the edge, palms down. The relaxed stance fooled Shaw into downgrading his threat level and puffed up accordingly, crowding the alpha’s space. Remi barely avoided rolling his eyes. His leopard didn’t take it as a challenge, merely huffed and sat down to scratch behind an ear.

“We have to dispatch a car ‘cause if something happens, we could be held liable if we don’t. We don’t want people to avoid callin’ if they see something suspicious.” Remi wondered if the sheriff realized just how much of a stereotype of the rural hick cop he was, despite his law degree. When he’d decided to found RainFire, he’d compiled dossiers on the local Enforcement brass and he knew that Shaw was well-educated. Was it a deliberate good ole’ boy ruse to put the humans at ease?

Lorelei returned with the data chip and his leopard snapped to attention, snarling a warning at the male in the room. Neither half of him wanted the cop anywhere near the curvy redhead. Remi caught the eye of Sugiyama through the door, which was still propped open, and waved him over. The lieutenant accepted the chip and promised it would be entered into the incident report, ignoring his superior who clearly smelled displeased. Scenting no lie from the officer, his leopard settled somewhat.

“Now I assume that Ms. Maddox is free to resume business unless ya’ll have any further questions.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a threat.

Though Shaw was pissed at the brusque dismissal, he strode out of the bakery. Sugiyama lingered to thank Lorelei for her hospitality and cooperation. Remi crushed the urge to throw the officer bodily out of the shop. He could probably hit Shaw like a bowling pin with the lieutenant as the ball.

“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Denier,” she said stiffly and smoothed her apron. Today, it was patterned with autumn leaves and edged in yellow worn over a russet dress. He wondered what he would find if he tugged on the satin tie and parted that modest Peter Pan collar to lick at the freckles that peppered her neck. Were there more scattered across her creamy breasts? Did they trail across her soft stomach to…

“Mr. Denier, was there something I can help you with?” By the sharp arch of her brow, she was repeating the question. Unlike Shaw, she wasn’t afraid of being alone with him although she was at the other end of the hierarchy. Even with all the training in the world, a submissive could never hope to win against an alpha leopard in a physical battle. And yet still she defied him while maintaining all outward propriety that could never be mistaken for an actual challenge.

“There’s no need to be so formal, please, call me Remi.” It was an obvious ploy to keep him at arm’s length. If she thought that would work, well, she had another thing coming. He intended to solve the mystery of this woman who played at being human, needed to figure out why his cat wanted to hunt her in the most sensual way.

“Was there anything you require?” Icy haughtiness that would have done those few who still clung to Silence proud. Coaxing her out of her shell was going to be fun.

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” A slow, feline smile curved his lips.

“For what? Barging in here and claiming responsibility for me like I’m a child?” That was interesting. Most submissives liked feeling safe and protected, that she found it upsetting was another facet to the puzzle of Lorelei Caine/Maddox.

“Keeping you from assaulting a law Enforcement officer.” It had been obvious that she wanted to go for Shaw’s throat the second he walked in.

“Thank you, Mr. Denier, for sweeping in here uninvited and undermining my authority in my own business. I am ever so grateful you patted me on the head and shooed me away while you menfolk postured at each other.” Her tone was sweet enough to drizzle over one of her confections and the drama was so over the top it would have done Scarlett O’Hara proud. Any minute now he expected her to start soliloquizing about root vegetables. “Since you’re marking your territory and all, I think the sheriff peed on that tree over there in case you feel the need to over-mark.”

“Il y a pas de quoi. Next time Shaw wants to cause a fuss, he’ll have to notify RainFire.” She blinked, considering the ramifications of having a pack of predatory changelings on her side when it came to dealing with the bigoted sheriff. “One of the benefits of pack is protection.” It was not just a case of safety in numbers. Dominants lived to defend their pack, the need to protect ingrained into the core of who they were.

“It was one person. Besides, you can’t be there 24/7,” she said dismissively.

The cat didn’t like the insinuation that he couldn’t protect this stubborn woman who regarded him with eyes of cool slate ringed with Prussian blue.

“No one messes with RainFire.” Any and all challenges were met with swift and brutal force. Yet the challenge of Lorelei was one that couldn’t be resolved with violence. Not as the initial offensive, anyway.

“You make it sound like you’re running a protection racket. Should I pay protection money in cookies? Are you going to shake down the grocery store for milk, too?” Cocking a hip, she braced a fist on it and gestured in the direction of the grocer with her other hand.

“What if next time it’s someone with a gun?” The blood drained away from her face and he bristled at the spike of doubt in her luscious sugar and spice scent. At their first meeting, he’d thought that the smell was from her array of goods; now he knew that it was part of her. When he’d walked in, the sweetness had been tainted with a hint of something foul that nearly left an aftertaste. That note quickly faded while he dealt with Shaw and he wasn’t yet certain whence it came.

“Then it’s a good thing I keep a hot pot of tea going.” She glanced at the faintly steaming kettle within arm’s reach. As a makeshift defensive strategy, he had to admit it wasn’t half bad. A faceful of scalding liquid would give even him pause.

“A clever answer,” he mused. “Do you have one for me?”

A faint vertical line formed on her brow. Normally she took care to avoid meeting his gaze in case his leopard took it as a provocation, she did so now with remote appraisal.

“Are you going to kill me if I decline your offer?”

“Only if it’s necessary. Why? Do you plan on hurting my people, t-minou? You’ll find we’re not easy prey.” He knew his eyes flashed cat bright as he stalked closer to her. Wide-eyed, she mirrored his movements until she bumped up against the counter. Bones pushed up against her skin from the grip she had on the white ashwood. The pulse of her heart was a fluttering butterfly under the thin skin of her throat, the sound of it like the hoofbeats of a racehorse.

“If you’re calling my bluff, cher, this is a game you won’t win.”

Tête Dure - Hardheaded

Minou(s) - Cat(s)

T - Small, shortened form of petite

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desertarabianhorse · 4 years

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Hahaha were not homophobic (says my pastor) haha no we're just saying you should be straight! What, you're aro, you're ace? Oh, like, I guess that's fine. Don't bring it up saying it makes my church diverse though. That's rude. Oh... you're trans? Uh no you're not fuckin bitch gender is sex, don't deny who you really are. Don't pretend to be what God didn't make you to be. And he made me to be your authority, and I'm the one who really know what the Bible says. You're going to this church right? You're choosing to be here. You choose me to be your leader every time you walk in. You know that right? You're just a fucking layperson who doesn't have a whole ass seminary degree like I do, you're no fucking prayer warrior. You don't know shit about Jesus. You're not even a Christian are you? You don't even listen to my sermons! Christ, you don't even have the decency to pretend to be happy and encouraging when you're at church. What, have you lost your goddamn faith? Are you a fucking atheist? I bet you fucking are you whore. You're not a man, pretending you are is an insult to all women and femininity. Stop saying it's bad to be a woman, you disgusting bigot. You like "they"? You like "he"? Fuck you, your body makes estrogen. And because of that, I know you have a vagina, because I should know and care and think about my congregation's genitals. Ergo, you are obviously, completely, only, fully, perfectly FEMALE. And I will only ever use "she" and "deadname" when I talk to or about you. You fucking idiot. I hate you. You're fucking stupid. Why can't you just use logic, you fucking progressive tranny? You goddamn snowflake? You're a bad influence on everyone around you, you're insane. How dare you pretend to be such a great person like that. But I still want you here, yes! Because I love you just like our Lord And Fucking Savior who will send you to Hell since you're clearly an irrational atheist that's abandoned what's really good for you. And maybe I'll be able to show you some sense and some True, Christian love, and you'll understand how fucking moronic you're being right now. Fucking get yourself together, fuck. So what's the bottom line? I LOVE YOU TOO MUCH TO USE YOUR PRONOUNS!

(this is something my fundamental Evangelical pastor has actually told me to my face. I did exaggerate some, and I was never cursed at bc that's not Christlike but I was accused of everything in there. For background info, I have been an atheist for the past entire year, but I've kept it secret from my family and my church for my mental health and emotional safety. And I act like a liberal and accepting Christian, I've never give away my lack of belief, my pastor has no reason to accuse me of being atheist. And I am aro, but I still claim to be ace at church and in my family rather than bi, again, for my safety. And ofc they have no idea I'm polyam. Most of the very small congregation knows my chosen name, and most of those who know it try to use it. Excepting my parents and the pastor's family, what do you expect. They all know I use they/them, and lots of them know I use he/him, and many of them attempt to use it. Excepting my parents and the pastor's family, what do you fucking expect. I dress masc and/or adrog at church, and often a bit flamboyant, because being feminine there is too dysphoric by far. And I always wore a they/them button to church. Before the quarantine that is, I ain't going nowhere now, not even if the pastor insisted to have service live. And that last line? Yeah, he said that, word for word, to my face, while pointing his finger at me and grinning wildly. THIS is fundamental Christianity. THIS is verbal and emotional abuse. THIS is why 40% of trans people have attempted suicide. Respect us and accept us, or leave us the fuck alone.)

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serenagaywaterford · 5 years

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i’m getting a little anxious about s3. and not in a good way. (don’t worry. i’m not talking about tuello/serena again.)

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

mostly cos there’s that article that confirmed basically what we already sorta knew: that june is gonna be at lawrence’s as his handmaid. (so at least no more ceremony rape which is nice.)

but forgive me... but i’m pessimistic about the fracturing of the main cast. that never really works well? and we’ve already seen how tht handles it. (not well lol)

now we have june, serena, nick, janine, and moira all in different places with divergent stories. (we know emily and nichole will join up with moira, luke, and erin. and likely sylvia and oliver. so there’s a whole canada crew.) i mean janine has never been a core player but she’s fairly important. and rita... will... likely go with the waterfords wherever they go.

but without june at the waterfords, she’s separated from serena, fred, nick, and janine all in one swoop. (but then of course the waterfords burns down so lol)

now, things i’m really not interested in which i feel are going to take up a lot of time because of this fractured cast:

- serena and fred’s failing relationship. call me biased but i honestly don’t give a shit. i don’t care about fred’s feelings in any way whatsoever. i don’t care about him being sad. or angry. or anything. i simply do not care about him. he needs to die this season. him being upset at his wife who hates him now is so dull. i love serena, i care about what is happening with her character but fred is an accessory to that, not the centre of it. i know there has to be something about him cos he’s tied to serena’s character in many ways, but i’m not here for Poor Fred’s Sad Times Manpain.

- nick being in the army or whatever. i just don’t think he’s a strong enough actor or character to carry scenes by himself. it only worked cos he was playing opposite powerhitters like moss, fiennes, and strahovski (even sweeney). without them to carry the scenes, i fear i’m gonna be bored af. even as a character, he’s just... not that interesting. sorry. the show has managed to actually strip the book character of his moderate complexity and made him into some flat love-interest cliche. who magically survives every treasonous thing he does. so for him to suddenly be a tough guy who is commanding a guardian regiment is fucking laughable. just plain batty. thus, because it’s so nonsensical, it bores me. nick, just in general, bores the fuck outta me on a good day. i dread s3 scenes with him. how nick isn’t fucking DEAD by now for all the shit he’s pulled on waterford it’s bonkers. at the very least, as an eye he should have been removed from that assignment. but i digress. yawn.

- lawrence/june stand-offs or lessons or whatever they wanna frame them as. “he’s testing her”. UGH. i mean, i don’t mind some of it (and apparently they’re gonna partner up)... but i really will be bored when every scene of her in a household is just a showdown of some kind with lawrence. quite frankly, again, maybe i’m just a misandrist but i give zero shits about lawrence either. i don’t wanna her about his pathetic man-struggles and his humanity. i don’t care about his regrets.

here’s how it goes: i do not care about the men. period. like, there’s no mystery about why men do what they do. there’s no complexity. their stories like this have been told 6,203,009,484,836,334 times already in fiction. we see them in our history books over and over. there have been a million psychological treatises on why nazi men did what they did. why lawrence went along with it, why he continued it, what his contribution was, etc. etc. --- i. do. not. care. i really don’t care about him teaching june the trolley problem or whatever the point is. if the general audience is that lacking in ethical philosophy they need to be taught this, maybe this show is too much already. i also am not here for him using this to excuse his fascism. so, basically, my issue is i don’t care about lawrence. i’ve heard his story a 100 times already. 101 isn’t gonna make it somehow mind-blowing. or even interesting to me...

- lawrence flashbacks will be the death of me, and not in a fun good way. do not show me them. do not waste my precious fucking time on this loser dickhead.

- luke... well, i do sorta care about how the refugees are doing. mostly cos the show has handled it SO BADLY THUS FAR. they made it look super easy and just. no. their canada-side of things has been shit and completely bogus unrealistic. (but then i suspect atwood is partly to blame for that lol.) but i mean, the last thing i need is another full episode dedicated to woobie luke’s woes.

- basically, i give no shits about manpain in this show. none. every second of manpain is a second that a woman’s story is sidelined.

so, my issue with the set up is that when you separate the core characters, they all become strangely boring. what is interesting is their dynamics. and the fact that unless you are june, your story is really thrown to the wayside if you’re removed from her. look how they treated moira last season. and luke. even emily to some degree (but not nearly as badly as moira). she got fuck all to really do or be. luke, even worse. (not that i’m really complaining about that tbh.) emily and janine’s colonies subplots were hack jobs just to show what a colony is.

now, fair play, i am 100% biased but the only character other than june that comes close to being able to carry a whole, complex story solo is serena. (hello 209). which, ofc, i’m not opposed to. but again, there is something missing in her narrative when she’s isolated from june for too long.

moira could, if they’d let her. but so far they’ve squandered wiley’s talents and moira’s potential.

it’s sorta exactly because of how they’ve dealt with moira that i fear what will happen when they pull apart the main cast to this degree. yes, it’s the handmaid’s tale. yes, the book was a june solo story. but the show itself has always showed itself to be about other handmaid’s and women in general, almost as much. and how all these women interact.

the thing is, the show is already treading dangerously into the ridiculous with half these characters even still being alive (june, janine, nick, emily), so it would take a shitload of magic for them to all stay together in one place. and when you pull them apart, it takes some magical deus ex machina shit to put them all back in the same place (hence that weird baptism thing when absolutely insanely they allow janine and the putnams in the same room lmao. plus june, serena, fred, aunt lydia... like yeah right. why doesn’t nick just show up too? hell, moira could stop in for a bite too. why not. nothing matters anymore.)

i dunno. maybe i’m just really cynical and pessimistic... but i don’t like the way it feels. pulling one character out is one thing. having two separate groups of different sides of the border is one thing. having every main character in their own story world is quite another. either the writers actually know what they’re doing after fucking moira & co. over last season, or it’s gonna be a rehash of that and we’re gonna be left with a lot of unsatisfactory, half-baked independent narrative arcs that don’t really weave back into each other in any sensible way.

on a completely separate level, i’m anxious cos of what they’re turning june into.

if the articles are to be believed, they’re making june become... some sort of rebel leader, loose with morality.

“You have to fight fire with fire,” Moss teases. “That’s become [June’s] journey in season 3. To fight against the people she has to fight, she has to become more like them.” Adds Miller: “We’re not doing a montage of June being radicalized — it’s 13 episodes. To see someone go through this process of becoming ruthless was a real challenge. We didn’t want to sensationalize it, or make it too morally easy, either.”

*sigh*

part of what i liked about june was that no matter how awful people were, she was always* very present and empathetic, and yeah she made stupid decisions, was selfish and narrow-minded at times, but inherently a GOOD--if flawed--character. i don’t wanna see serena 2.0. we have a serena, thanks, and she’s a bad person and the whole point is we want her to become a better person, not make june become a worse person to fit in with her lol. i don’t mind june harnessing some of that grit and power and cutthroat attitude, but serena is one of the weakest people and emulating her isn’t the best idea? am i crazy? i especially don’t need to see june turn into lawrence’s rebellious protege.

i dunno... it bothers me when every story about women ends up with “well they have to be more like men! that’s real power!!” (and i’m side-eyeing the male showrunner and male writers so fucking hard rn.) i’m not naive. i know some change is necessary, and to fight such a perverse system you have to infiltrate it, violently fight against it, and understand it. but you don’t need to become it. or again, maybe i’m just naive?

I DO NOT WANT “RUTHLESS JUNE”.

i’m sorry. i don’t. do some ruthless things, yes, that’s probably inevitable but to become a ruthless person? yikes. how has gilead not won then? it seems it has.

(*with the exception of eden. don’t even get me started...)

maybe i just need a cup of chamomile tea and to shut the fuck up until i actually watch it.

#i'm not tagging this cos... well

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stopforamoment · 6 years

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Nothing New Pussycat (See You Next Tuesday)

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks Word Count: 3,571 Rating: R for Language and Adult Situations TRIGGERS: Unwanted sexual contact, discussion of rape, rape culture, male dominance, use of the P and C words for female genitals, C in a derogatory way “Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.” Margaret Atwood

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. This was inspired by @kennaxval’s story The Queens of Stormholt part 5: Kenna’s Choice (NSFW) and by Hulu/Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. I’ve been catching up on episodes this past week! This takes place the second week of the school year, in September.

Crackpot Ear Worm: Tom Jones “What’s New Pussycat”

He was a rich, arrogant, helicopter parent whose son did nothing wrong. He also didn’t give a fuck about his marriage vows, and he thought it would be an interesting challenge to conquer the American widow who wouldn’t take off her wedding ring. At first Rinda was oblivious. She was used to dealing with helicopter parents, and she assumed his false flattery was the first step toward getting his son out of an after-school detention that Rinda gave him. As annoying as that was, Rinda preferred that to what usually came next. The incessant badgering and, eventually, threats. Rinda sighed. Time to draw upon her professionalism and boilerplate commentary to get through this one-on-one meeting that he insisted upon. Rinda had been married, and to a police officer, so she was relatively safe for over 10 years. But she got complacent, thinking she would be respected at least for her status as a mother and widow, with the added bonus that she was in her 40s and past her prime. She honestly thought that sex would no longer be used as a weapon against her. Her gender, yes. Always. But sex? Well, maybe unconsciously. Okay, yes. She knew. But she had hoped that sex couldn’t still be used as a weapon against her. That was a small part of why she still wore her wedding ring and kept her married name. Most people would take the hint and know that she should be left the fuck alone. But she truly wasn’t prepared to deal with all of that bullshit again. . . . . .

Rinda was a warrior preparing for battle. She took the time to move her desk so she could sit behind it. That was a Power Move 101. She preferred to keep her desk against a wall because it took up less space, it was easier to throw her squish ball against the wall, and it was just easier to work with the children who needed to sit next to her when she tutored him. But not for this meeting. Bastien and Julian offered to help her move the desk, but Laura just laughed and told them to get the fuck lost. Rinda was in her woman hear me roar mode, and she didn’t need a man’s help. Although as soon as they left she did need to meekly ask Laura for help. Then she strategically placed chairs on the other side of her desk. Laura had to take her dad to a doctor’s appointment, so she wouldn’t be in the room. But Julian and Bastien would be in their rooms, ready to rescue Rinda if necessary. And Julian and his husband Theo would take her out for a drink afterward so she could defrag and repeat every wicked one-liner that she wanted to say but couldn’t. . . . . . He walked into her room, unannounced and 20 minutes early, which Rinda was expecting. But she was still helping another student. And of course, she was sitting next to the student, in another student desk, so she could help her. Rinda stayed seated in the too-small chair, looking up at the father and calmly asking to come back in 10 minutes, when she was finished helping her student. When it’s actually your appointment time. He informed Rinda that he was a busy man and his time was valuable. Right, so that’s why you’re 20 minutes early and harassing me when you could just wait in the hall and check emails or something. Professional Mrs. Parks nodded and related to that. She was also very busy, especially right now, and the sooner she could get back to helping her student the sooner she could begin their appointment. But he wasn’t leaving. She extricated herself from the student desk as gracefully as possible, calmly walking up to him, trying not to flinch. She hated doing that. Approaching someone simply to assert herself. She was 5’3” and really, if he refused to leave what could she do? Call in Bastien to escort him out? God, how humiliating. Needing help from the freaking head of security because there was a rude asshole who refused to leave her room. A man who was being shitty because she was a woman and there wasn’t much she could do about it. Remember, Rinda. You’re white. You’re cis. You’re straight. You’ve had amazing educational opportunities, and you’re comfortably middle class. Other people who deal with this shit have less privilege than you.

He ogled her. No other word to explain it. She stood and took it, hoping her body language didn’t betray her fear and anger. Even though she wore loose clothing and no makeup, it didn’t matter. Even if he was really thinking about last night’s football game while simply pretending to undress her with his eyes as a way to intimidate her, it didn’t matter. He was sizing her up, sexualizing her, dismissing her as a professional with post-college degrees and years of teaching experience. Every woman, every person who has been de-humanized, denigrated, and disparaged, has a way to cope with it. They have a plan in place to ensure their literal survival. When Rinda was younger she swore that she would go down fighting. That she would rather die than let it happen to her. Again. But now that she was older, a mother with a son who didn’t have a father, it was different. There was a lot more that she was willing to take if it meant she could come home to Henry when it was over. And really, being in your 40s with a wedding ring and a kid did make life easier. You were overlooked a lot. What a blessing. But not now. Now she was targeted. But fortunately he chose to wait in the hallway, and Rinda only hoped the young girl who was patiently waiting for Mrs. Parks wouldn’t subconsciously remember this incident. The time when her female teacher, the adult in charge, was challenged just because a man wanted to. Just because he could. . . . . .

When Rinda invited him in he closed the door after him. Friendly Rinda. “Oh, you can just leave the door open.” Cocky asshole with the smug grin. “Why? You don’t trust yourself to be alone with me in a closed room?” No, I don’t trust you, and you know it, you fucking asshole. How dare you try to spin this, as if I wanted anything from you except some basic fucking respect. Delusional douche canoe prick. Professional Mrs. Parks lying through her teeth. “It’s school policy.” Quickly get behind your desk. It’s a barrier and you’ll be safe. Wait, fuck. Did he open the door? Fuck me. He didn’t. If I let it go, he wins. If I open it for him, he wins. God damn this fucker to hell. Rinda motioned for him to take a seat and she opened the door. Julian was discreetly waiting in the hallway and he gave her an encouraging nod for support. She started to walk back to her desk. That fucker moved the chair so I’m going to have to practically grind him to get around him and retreat behind my desk. Retreat. Fuck this. She channeled an image of Justin Trudeau dealing with Donald Trump’s power play handshake. I’m not backing down from this prick.

She moved the other chair, the one on his side of her desk, further away from the man. She sat down, discreetly moving her legs to the side before crossing them at the ankles so there was no danger of her pulling a Paris Hilton or Sharon Stone. Mom taught Rinda as a very young girl to sit carefully and keep her legs closed so she wouldn’t show her Unaussprechlichen. Rinda, you know. Rinda laughed to herself, realizing as an adult that the humor of that unspeakable word was lost on her mother. Grandma Lorinda would say vagina. Rinda, it’s a vagina. Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s yours, no one else’s. You can call it your Muschi, your pussy or cunt, if that’s what you want. As long as it’s respected and the words used to describe it are spoken with love. Crossing her legs. That wouldn’t be interpreted as discreet by a man like him. No, it would only draw his eyes there, to the Unaussprechlichen. Crossing your legs at the knee, more sexual. You’re flirting. Crossing at the ankles, more demure and lady-like. But then you’re a prude. Thank God I wore a long skirt today.

He tried wheedling, he tried flirting. Rinda remained professional. She stood by the detention. He leaned in, but Rinda was far enough away that he would have to move his chair closer to invade her personal space. Ha! Score one for Rinda Parks. Oh, fuck. He really is moving his chair closer. Oh fuck, and he’s owning it, like it’s a welcomed advance, not his weakness. Rinda was sure her eyes were changing colors, that sure tell that she was afraid or upset. Hopefully he didn’t know that about her, even though it was hard to miss. Hopefully he couldn’t see how pale she was and didn’t catch her target glance to the door. God, how many times have women and other victims been in this situation, trying to gauge if they stood a better chance of survival if they tried to run or if they stayed still and took it. Rinda, you’ve got this.

He “accidentally” brushed her knee when he sat back down, his face dangerously close. Do I ignore it? If I call him out, will he laugh? Think I’m a bitch who’s playing hard to get? Tell me I imagined it? Rinda tried to stay focused, but she was livid. What if the roles were reversed? What if I just grabbed his cock and gave it a squeeze to assert my dominance? To get my shits and giggles off seeing another person squirm. How would that make you feel, asshole? Ugh. He’d probably love it. Spread his legs and force me to kneel, mouth open, to give him more.

The meeting ended with the usual threat that he would contact the principal, someone who was more reasonable and had more power than her. Fine. Whatever. Just get the fuck out of my face. At least he didn’t threaten her job or remind her that his tax dollars paid her salary. “I’ll have your job for this.” That one always cracked Rinda up. Bitch, please. You’ll “have” it? You want it? Go for it. You wouldn’t last an hour. Rinda let him stand up first. She was wearing a shirt with a high neckline. Nothing to see there and she’d rather be the one passively sitting, even if he was looking down at her, instead of the one standing and hoping he would get up to leave. He waited until they got into the hallway before overtly asserting his dominance. Maybe that was for the best. She wasn’t trapped behind her desk. She wasn’t trapped in the room. And really, it was comical how he thought he could just finish being an absolute ass, telling her that he would go above her head to get satisfaction, and then suddenly inform Rinda that he would take her out and show her a good time. He’d still get satisfaction from her in one way or another. He knew that she was lonely and needed a man’s company. And he’d give it to her. I’m way too old for this shit. Haven’t I paid my dues, yet? Isn’t that supposed to be a benefit of getting older and losing the bloom off the rose? Rinda laughed to herself. Her middle name was Rose. Damn that was pretty funny, Rinda. Okay, stay with it. You can’t use humor to deflect yourself out of this one. Rinda’s eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings. Julian was staying late for her. His door was open and he moved his work station so he could keep an eye on the hallway. She looked over and saw him watching her. And even though she couldn’t see him, she knew Bastien was near. She always felt his comforting presence when he was near. Maybe he was in the room with Julian, or just around the corner. But she was safe. It would be okay. At least this time. She started by purposely misunderstanding him. Not that anyone could misinterpret that lecherous smirk. Of course she would be happy to meet with him and his wife, at school, if they’d like to further discuss the matter. No? Not at school? But she only met with parents at school. Oh, but this wasn’t a professional matter. And his wife wouldn’t be joining him. And now he was leering, and even though Rinda knew she would be physically safe because Julian and Bastien were there, she wasn’t sure which reaction would be worse for her career. Fight or flight. She was so thankful they were here. Refusing their help to move her desk, feeling embarrassed that the head of security might have to escort this man out. She didn’t care anymore. Her pride was so goddamn trivial right now. She was just so fucking thankful they were here. The reality was that she was a woman who couldn’t handle it by herself. And Julian and Bastien were strong men, good men. She wouldn’t even have to ask. One of them, if not both, would stay to make sure she got into her car safely. Even follow her home if necessary. God I hate being a woman.

And then she felt the nausea. Did men think that women were just playthings? Did he care at all about his wife? His family? Did he even care that she said “no” several times, that he was making her uncomfortable, that she was still in love with Jameson? That this asshole’s very presence was violating her? No. He didn’t care. That was part of his fun. Bastien was in the hallway, gauging the situation. He would be able to step in at any time, but he remembered Rinda’s reaction earlier that day when she was struggling to move the desk by herself. He knew why she refused their help. In any other situation he and Julian would have teased Rinda for being so stubborn. But they knew to let that one go. He knew Rinda could handle herself now, and he wanted to be sure Rinda knew that, but he was right there if she needed any help. The man grabbed Rinda’s arm and Bastien saw the golden topaz in her eyes. The look of controlled fury that shook even him. He thought Rinda was upset that this man touched her. He didn’t realize it was so much more than that. This man was arrogant enough to even think he had a chance to replace Jameson, even if it was for only the few pathetic, unsatisfying minutes he might last if Rinda would allow him to enter her. That’s what it boiled down to, for her. Not his disrespect to her, or to his wife, but to Jameson. Her Jameson was a hero who sacrificed his life to save Cassie. People who didn’t know Jameson only saw the gruff exterior. They couldn’t understand how someone as light-hearted as Rinda could ever see anything in a person who was so serious. But they didn’t know the Jameson that Rinda did. The tender-hearted man who would do anything to make Rinda laugh. The one who adored her. He was her beloved. When Jameson came home after a long day of work she would serenade him with her loudest and most awful rendition of Tom Jones’ “What’s New Pussycat?” just to make him smile And no one else knew that when Officer Parks came home he became Rinda’s sweet and silly Miezekatze as she kissed his nose, those laugh lines around his eyes, that adorable dimple, and his irresistible lips. How dare he think he’s anywhere close to knowing what it means to be a man. To replacing Jameson. . . . . .

Rinda could have extricated herself from his grasp with a basic self defense move. And she could have run away, knowing that Bastien would take care of the rest for her. But she didn’t. Instead she turned his wrist and brought her elbow up to the underside of his elbow. Anger and adrenaline gave her the power to deliver a strong hit to his elbow. There was a sickening crack and the man immediately dropped to the ground, cursing Rinda. Calling her a bitch cunt whore who didn’t know who he was. Who she just messed with. How he would ruin her professionally. How he would find her and make her pay. How he would wrap his fingers around her throat and enjoy watching her eyes bulge as he strangled her. How he would find her and make her pay. Tear her a new asshole. Fuck her until she needed a new asshole. He would destroy her. He would kill her. Rinda didn’t hear most of it. Bastien was already dragging the man away, the man’s rants fading down the hallway. Julian gently pulled Rinda into his room and closed the door while he called the police and paramedics.

Bastien reassured Rinda that it was self defense and he was proud of her for defending herself so well. Bastien truly meant it as a compliment, and he was impressed with her. But Julian and Rinda looked at each other and they both knew it wasn’t that simple, and that Bastien sounded patronizing even though it was unintentional. Rinda also knew that Julian and his husband faced discrimination and hatred far more often than she ever would, and she was so grateful to have him with her that night. Bastien could help explain the factual details of what happened that night. But Julian, Theo,and Laura were the ones to help her navigate the emotional strain of that evening, and they would know the reality of what really happened that night because she was a woman turned down a rich man with on a power trip. To everyone else, Rinda would be seen as unable to handle herself in a situation. She overreacted to a simple misunderstanding. She must have done something to upset that man. She wore a skirt and invited him into her classroom when no one else was there. She sat next to him. She flirted. She encouraged him. And then changed her mind. Like a typical tease. Bitch. She resorted to violence over a simple miscommunication. He’s a married man. Respected in the community. How could anyone trust her with their children? And he was a rich man with power who sometimes donated to the school. Rinda most likely would have to apologize. Best case scenario. The reality was that Rinda most likely lost her job and the safety reform suffered a crushing blow because of her. Even if she were allowed to stay, she would lose all respect from the families, and that attitude would affect the children and how they interacted with her in the classroom. Then she’d lose her job that way. Because she wasn’t able to do her job effectively. Because she was a woman who pissed off a man. . . . . . The night dragged on forever with the police report and statements. Rinda had to call a neighbor to take care of Henry for the rest of the night—feed him and keep him safe—because she had to stay late with something that was school-related. It was true, even though it was a lie of omission. Bastien stayed to deal with the last of the legal issues and some other work matters. He also moved Rinda’s desk back to its original spot and set her squish ball back in its place, where it was easy for her to grab and throw against the wall. He hoped that would make Rinda’s morning a little better. Julian and Theo took Rinda home, and Laura came over too. And once she had Henry safely tucked in his own bed they drank. And commiserated. And cried. . . . . . Rinda didn’t know Bastien was indebted to Queen Riley because of his involvement with the Tariq scandal. She didn’t know that it only took a phone call from Bastien to explain to Queen Riley what happened and why. That Queen Riley was personally involved in speaking to the man and ensuring that the entire incident was taken care of. That what he did to Rinda, he would never do to her—or another person—ever again. Not if he expected to retain his citizenship as a Cordonian. Julian, Theo, Laura, and Rinda never understood how she got so fucking lucky. Why he chose not to press charges. Why she wasn’t fired. Why she never had to see that man ever again. But Bastien knew. He saw what Rinda went through that night. He talked with her, when she was finally ready and trusted him enough. He listened to her explain her feelings about the situation, not just the facts. Then Bastien better understood. He better understood what he did to Riley that night, and he better understood the mantle of responsibility that came with the power of simply being a man.

#bastien lykel #choices trr #ofc rinda parks #rape culture

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basicdeanstan-blog · 6 years

Text

Tension

Pairing: Dean Ambrose x OFC

Warnings: Rough, Unprotected, Angst, Smut. There’s probably typos that I’ll fix soon.

Summary: OFC finds that when she tries to book herself a hotel room, they’re overbooked for the night. An unlikely hero, Dean Ambrose allows her to crash in his room. They had a lot more sexual tension than they realized. Smut happens, duh.

She swept the back of her hand across her forehead, barely ridding herself of the sweat that had formed there. She was breathless, coming from a hard fought match before being handed a water bottle by someone backstage. She sent them a teeth flashing grin before taking a swig, her feet quickly taking her to the showers to freshen up for the night. Her match was right before Raw’s main event, and she honestly could not wait to get home. Or, back at the hotel, at least. It was a first, but she didn’t have time to book her hotel room before she made it to work. Simply, she instead dismissed it and told herself she’d get the room once she showed up there. No worries.

She greeted and mingled with a few coworkers on her way to the showers, getting lost in conversation about all the segments and matches that had taken place. Right before she stepped in the women’s locker room, her eyes trailed over to him. She swore she could feel her body heat up at the sight of him. Heat up in rage, annoyance. Dean Ambrose was immersed in a conversation with Seth and Roman, probably making some stupid joke. She hadn’t realized how long she’d been staring, but it was long enough for Roman’s eyes to trail over and for Dean’s to follow suit. The girl let out an audible scoff, curling her top lip up when their eyes met.

He only smirked cockily back at her, sarcastically sending an overly greeting wave her way. He was so annoying. They always stepped on each other’s toes- well, Dean did more than her, more like. But he never failed to get under her skin. It was almost as if he lived to show up at work and make everything harder for her. She couldn’t really recall when she first started hating him, but she knew it was for good reason. He was always just so brutally honest, cocky, cunning, at ease– him being so at ease and relaxed all the time when he’d ruffle her feathers made her blood boil. Dean found it all too amusing, finding it way too easy to anger the poor girl.

He winked at her, and the corner of his lips fixed up into a smirk right before she slammed the women’s locker room door right behind her.

“That girl always has a chip on her shoulder, I tell ya.” Dean chuckled out, his eyes still on the door though she’d already went inside. He continued throwing punches to the air, still pumped from his post match.

Roman and Seth, as if on cue exchanged looks.

“Seriously, dude? You like, always find a way to make her mad. You live for it.” Seth told him, letting out a breathy laugh with it, Roman shaking his head in agreement. Dean stopped his motions, looking at the two men in fake shock.

“Yeah, okay. Right. She’s so damn sassy. All the time. She always plays like I’m the bad guy in front of you two. When we’re alone, she’s a trip. The girl cuts her eyes at me when I breathe.” He defended himself, looking for his friends to agree with him.

It was somewhat accurate, she did sometimes find herself so mad at him for no reason. It was almost as if she enjoyed their teasing rivalry. Maybe that’s just what Dean thought. Dean did think anyone enjoyed being in his presence.

Though, almost everyone that knew either her or Dean, insisted that they had some sort of sexual tension going on between them. Dean would neither entertain nor reject the suspicion, and she had the same reaction every time, which was imitating throwing up as she stuck her tongue out and made gagging noises. Her best friend Paige always liked to tease her about it, knowing how irritated it got her.

She searched through her duffle bag to pull out matching underwear and a floral top, with skinny jeans to match. Shoving her ring gear back into her bag and deciding she’d find somewhere to put it later, she shook her wet, curly hair and headed out the door. She had received an okay that she could leave the building, and with eagerness to go relax she said her goodbyes to some acquaintances, and gave hugs to Paige and Bayley before heading out. Paige had told her she’d be out clubbing with a few other people that night, so she’d practically be driving back to the hotel alone. Once in her rental car, she sighed to herself as her best friend Paige kept texting her apologies, and even inviting her to come club with her. That wasn’t even an option as she was exhausted and so ready to lay down. She shook her head in slight amusement at her friends’ apologies, before setting her phone down. She made her way to the cozy hotel everyone would be staying at for the night and hoped everything would go smoothly, as she had a track record for running into conflict.

“It’s what?” She asked the receptionist, hoping she didn’t hear what she thought she did. Please, no.

The receptionist repeated exactly what she said the first time. “We’re so sorry. Unfortunately, every room here has already been booked, is being cleaned out, or is simply unavailable at this time. I do suggest the nearest ho–”

She shook her head as the receptionist began to ramble. “No, no thanks. Any other hotel is way too far. I have to be close to work, and…” she trailed off with her sentence as she was compelled to turn her head as the sound of the revolving door distracted her. She was going to turn back to finish the conversation, but her face was still contorted in helplessness as she realized it was the man she hated most. He waltzed in, not even noticing her at first as he neared the front desk, probably going to ask for his hotel key.

“Oh!” His gravelly voice shot her way, the slight smell of alcohol hitting her nose when he talked. “Oh. You look upset. Can’t be cause of me cause I just got here. What’s wrong, princess?” He leaned his elbow on the desk, one of his feet crossing in front of the other as he looked on at her, actually waiting for a response.

She ignored the weird feeling she got at the sudden pet name, and found herself actually explaining her problem to Dean. Dean, of all people.

“There are no more rooms available. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” She sighed, chewing on her bottom lip as she looked away from him, not believing she’d actually gave him the answer he was looking for. She shook her head as she pulled out her phone. “I guess I’ll just have to wait for Paige to get here,” she mumbled the last part, “who knows how long that’ll be.” Her thumbs were quickly hitting her smart phone screen and Dean didn’t take his eyes from her from the moment she spoke. There was a bit of silence as he thought. He didn’t know what to do, or say to her in that situation. They were bitter enemies, was this an exception? Should he offer her help? What if she’d reject, then he’d be totally pissed he even considered being nice to her. Before his thoughts caught up with his mouth, he spoke again.

“Nonsense, just stay in my room.” He and her both were shocked at his words, big eyes darting up from her phone and looking at him in surprise, then anger.

“I don’t have time for your fucking jokes, Dean. Could you be any more of an asshole?” She paused her typing to look at him expectantly, dark brown hair brushing in the way of her eyes as she passionately spoke. How dare he try to be his sarcastic self in a situation like this? And why the hell was she almost… relieved by his extended offer? She’d rather sleep outside in -10 degree whether than share a room for the night with Dean Ambrose. The thought made her cringe, and she chose to push back the feeling of peaked interest on what it would be like to share a room with Dean. She had been snapped out of her reverie when that rough voice spoke up again.

“What? I’m not joking. I’m a grown man, I know when it’s time for no jokes. Don’t want you getting… snatched up out here waiting for a place to stay.” He grew amused at his own words near the end of his sentence, and cleared his throat when he noticed her tiny hands gripped onto her hips, the way she always stood when he was talking to her, when he got under her skin. He’d never say it out loud, or to her at least, but she was pretty cute when she thought she looked intimidating.

“Snatched up?” She scoffed. “I’m a grown woman! I can take care of myself!” She huffed, greatly appalled at his statement.

It was the receptionist’s time to clear their throat, and both their heads snapped up to the older lady. “I apologize, guys, but a line is forming behind you two. Ma’am, all I can do here is call the nearest hotel and-”

Dean leaned over closer to the woman, a somewhat charming smile forming onto his features as he shook his head gently. “That won’t be necessary. She’ll be staying with me, thank you.” As he talked, he reached in his pocket for his ID before handing it to her, and soon after, received his hotel room key.

During the entire exchange, the young girl was planted in her feet, mouth ajar as she had still been irritated from his previous comment, and astonished that he thought that she’d just love to stay with him. Dean was halfway to the elevator before deciding to look back, noticing the infuriated girl was staring right back at him. Steam could’ve been coming from her ears. That made him chuckle, and it made her huff as she stormed after him.

She lowered her eyes at him as he walked in through the room right after her, insisting that she had walked in first. The look on her face when he smiled to her and said, “after you.” Was priceless to Dean. She dropped her duffel bag down onto the foot of the bed, and there was a moment of silence before she broke it.

“Since you’re such a grown man, are you gonna sleep on the sofa while a poor old girl who could get snatched up, like me, sleeps on the bed?” She talked with sarcasm laced in every word. She just couldn’t help herself. Deep down she knew she was eternally grateful that he extended the offer, not knowing what she’d be doing right now if it weren’t for him.

“Yup.” He responded, not engaging in her redundant, but tempting arguing. He kicked off his shoes and grabbed a pillow from the large bed, large enough to hold them both before tossing it onto the tiny sofa. Dean shrugged off his black jacket, chucking it across the room before he plopped onto the seat, back on the cushions while letting out a dramatic groan.

He could tell she had been watching him that entire time. He peeked one of his eyes open, turning his head to meet the usual look she had on her face when she was near him. Her long legs were crossed, arms snug and crossed as well across her chest as she all but seethed on the bed.

“Ya know, you’re gonna have to stop starin’ at me sometime. I know it’s hard, but…” A pillow hit his face as he trailed off with his sentence, and he let it lay there for a moment, earning a laugh, an actual laugh, from her. He pulled the pillow down to make sure he’d heard right. He picked his head up slightly, eyebrows raised up at her.

“Did I just make you laugh?” He asked incredulously. She had a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in her hand, in pursuit of the bathroom before she stopped in her tracks to send him a dirty look.

“Um, no. I was laughing at the fact that I’d thrown a pillow on your face. I made myself laugh.” She clarified, index finger moving with her words sassily. She noted that his tongue darted out across his bottom lip when she’d done that, and decided to push that to the back of her mind, too. Though, almost a lot of that had been going on throughout the night. Or maybe that was just in her head. Yeah. She needed some sleep, it was definitely all in her head.

“Hello! Earth to Ms. Princess! You really gotta take something for those starin’ problems.” Dean’s gruff voice for the second time that night caught her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head at herself and didn’t respond as she finally made it to the bathroom that had been right beside Dean and the sofa, absentmindedly leaving the door cracked. As she flipped the light on she wondered when he decided it was okay to start calling her princess. She knew it had to be some sort of mean, teasing thing, and that he really meant she was just a drama queen, but it didn’t fail to give her that weird feeling again.

Why was she being so weird? Dean was disgusting, and rude, and… everything just bad in a guy. Or that’s what she liked to tell herself. Neither of them knew why they enjoyed being so mad at each other, but it was too foreign to be anything else. But why did he seem way less of a scum of the earth tonight? Was it because he’d been so nice and did this favor for her? Or were these pent up, repressed feelings trying to scratch at the surface?

No, what? She contorted her face in disgust at her own thoughts as she had pulled down her jeans, cheeky cranberry colored undies being exposed. She had just bent down to grab her sweats before movement in the mirror startled her.

A gasp burned her throat as she saw him behind her.

“What the fuck?! Dean? Get out!” She uselessly pulled her bundle of sweatpants to cover her front half as she turned around to face him.

Her cheeks were insanely heated, and maybe that was from anger, or embarrassment, or both.

It was almost as if Dean hadn’t heard her yell as he stood at the doorway, bathroom door now fully pushed open as his droopy, dark blue eyes had zoned in on her face, to the mirror that had revealed her ass, and then back up to her face. She was ready to yell again, to fuck up his eardrums but his hand reaching up to touch her hip for some reason stopped her. She shuddered at the touch of his fingers, cold and skin on skin with her side, his face unreadable as his eyes met back with her startled, confused ones.

“What… what are you doing?” She racked her brain as a million thoughts raced in her mind. One of them being, why aren’t you reacting? Why are you practically anxiously waiting to see what he was going to do next? It was cold silence as Dean hadn’t said a word since he walked in, and his expression was something she’d never seen on him before. Her breath hitched in her throat when he finally formed a sentence.

“You drive me crazy.” He said flatly, hand snatching the pathetic excuse for a cover up out of her hands, dropping them right down in front of them quickly. She didn’t move, inhaling his alcohol mixed with cologne scent. It may have been the closest she’d ever been with him and that scent drove her wild. Her eyebrows were furrowed. Lost, confused, conflicted. All those expressions evident on her face as they held each other’s gaze. Had she not been crazy after all? The unspoken thick tension, was it actually real? And was she admitting that there was something there to herself for the first time?

“Yeah, well, you do too.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper as her deep brown eyes looked up through her lashes, and back at him.

His face scrunched up when she spoke, both his hands now at her waist as he undoubtedly kept glancing into the mirror to view her exposed ass cheeks. His large hands quickly reached up to the sides of her face, and she found herself leaning in to his touch.

“You drive me fucking crazy.” He repeated, his voice deeper, rougher, his grip on her tightening. A moan rested in her throat just from the way he roughly handled her, his eyes for the tenth time in that exchange searching through hers. He looked like some other person. Still angry, still Dean, but more on edge. Like he needed to get something off his chest. He seemed like he was searching for any ounce of discomfort in her face because for the first time ever she wasn’t exactly her talkative, spunky, quick witted self.

Her next words shocked him, though.

“Do something about it.” She breathed, an ounce of her bitchy, sassy tone hinting in her words. She couldn’t believe what she was saying. He couldn’t believe what he was doing next as he quickly, –as if he did it any slower she would change her mind, crashed his lips against hers. His mouth was a moving frenzy against hers and it took her a few seconds to kiss back. When she finally did, the kiss was hot, and everything he’d quietly imagined when he’d be alone in his thoughts at night. She never imagined this sort of thing, but she found herself often trashing the thoughts of them having some sort of sexual tension. The two of them pulled back at the same time for a short breath of air, before leaning in for more. This time it was hungrier, more confident, more them.

Dean pushed her back against the counter of the bathroom sink, and she winced at the pain of the edge hitting her lower back. Without missing a beat, or even opening his eyes, his right hand reached around to nurse the spot for a second, before inevitably trailing down to the top of her ass. Quickly, she pulled away, and a loud sound of their lips filled the room when she did.

Dean looked down at her, again his face unreadable as his tongue darted out once again at his bottom (now irritated from the exchange) lips.

“What are we doing?” She looked up at him, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she was in Dean’s hotel room, letting him shove his tongue down her throat. She’d never be able to live this down.

He didn’t think for a minute, one of his hands gently cupping the back of her neck as he turned it upwards, fascinated at the canvas that was out in front of him. “Somethin’ we should’ve done a long time ago.” He responded, lips going down to attack her exposed neck. She shivered underneath him, her fingers grasping onto his white t-shirt as his teeth bit down onto the skin, his mouth sucking around the bite right after. It was like he wanted blood. Everything he did was so rough, and she couldn’t tell whether that was because he hated her or because roughness was his thing, but her raspy moans let him know she wasn’t complaining either way.

In the next second, she was propped up onto the counter, her top now off as she was exposed bra and panties in front of him. She pulled away from him as they were in another heated kiss, and quickly got rid of his white shirt, hating that she was pleased at the sight of his toned, hairy chest. A cocky smirk pulled on his lips and she only sent him an irritated look back as she fumbled with his belt buckle. His large hands rested at her parted knees, and they both watched as his jeans fell around his ankles. Quickly stepping out of them, he pushed them to the side. One of his hands reached around her back to the little clasp of her bra, allowing her breasts to perk right out.

A hungry look washed over Dean’s face as he pulled her closer, his warm lips wrapping around her nipple gently. Her eyes fluttered shut and she brought her fingers to his shaggy hair, a blissful moan escaping her lips. Dean was rough, that she could tell within the first two minutes of him touching her, but she noticed that he took his time when it came to her breasts, his mouth giving each one his attention, one of his hands reaching up to toy with one another. She watched as he took his time with her breasts, and soon found herself aching for him to do something else.

“Come on, Dean, fuck me already.” She practically begged, her hand reaching down to acknowledge his bulge that sat in his briefs. He let out a hiss, teeth clenching as he leaned away from her, earning an almost pouting look from her.

“Be patient. I’m in charge of things,” he declared, his eyes warning and dark. She wouldn’t want to admit it, but his dominant aura was undoubtedly turning her on. She opened her mouth to speak, but her beginning sentence was interrupted as she winced from the painful burn of her panties quickly being snatched from her body. Before she had time to be angry, she felt two thick fingers push at her noticeably soaked entrance.

“O-oh, no warning huh?” She almost spat, her voice mixed with pleasure and irritation as one of her hands gripped onto his large shoulder. He shook his head.

“No warning for girls like you. Girls with nasty attitudes.” He tutted, one of his fingers now slowly running up and down her slit. Her teeth were angrily bit down into her bottom lip but she was grinding up onto his hand, head falling back against the mirror as she let out a whimper of pleasure. He watched her face the whole time, only occasionally glancing down at the sight of her dripping heat to witness his fingers pumping in and out of her.

“Dean! Oh, keep doing that.” She breathed out, practically riding his fingers. He loved the sight of it, now growing painfully hard in is rather tight briefs. In a quick motion, without losing the momentum of his fingers slipping into her, he used his other hand to yank down the last article of clothing, kicking them to join the heap of their discarded clothes. He turned his attention back to her, his other hand now gripping onto her hip. She found herself even moaning at the contact of him on her hip, finding everything hot as her eyes were shut closed, focusing on how he was making her feel. It was like her senses were heightened, she could hear his repeating, low groans. She could feel his hot skin as her fingers gripped onto it. She could still taste him on her lips, and another breathy moan came from her as she took in his musky scent.

He groaned to himself, watching her writhe because of him. Just because of him. Just that thought alone turned him on so badly, never thinking he’d have this girl a moaning mess underneath him.

He wanted her to cum, and he wanted her to cum hard. “Can you take a third, princess? I know you can.” His voice was low, and he spoke fast, matching the speed of his pumping fingers. She didn’t even open her eyes as she desperately nodded, not finding the energy in her to verbally confirm. His third finger joined the mix and the loudest moan of the night so far had come from her, making his head snap up to look at her, to find that even she was shocked at the sound she made. He knew she was close, and she did too as she was a mess of moans and pleads to go faster. He did just that and more, his thumb reaching up to skillfully rub against her clit. Repeated curse words spilled from her mouth as she met her climax, and Dean didn’t think he’d seen anything hotter than that. He had been stroking himself with his other hand, and she caught her breath, peeling her eyes open to look.

She licked her lips once she looked down, the thickness of him making her want him more than she ever did before. Actually, this was the first time she ever wanted him. But if there were ever other times that she did, this would indeed be the most earnest time.

Her warm, dainty hand reached down to replace his, and he melted into her touch. The only thing that could be heard in the room were his lighter than a whisper groans. She bit her lip, eyes looking up to meet his as she stroked him. They gazed at each other for a moment, her hand still lazily pumping up and down his shaft. The eye contact was almost too intense for him, causing him to look away. He licked his lips, and she was still staring into him when he batted her hand away, now lining up at her entrance, his enemies’

entrance on the counter of his bathroom. Everything happened so fast, yet in slow motion as she waited for him to fill her up. She was ready to tell him to hurry up before a gasp slipped her lips, his sudden, rough thrust knocking her back against the mirror.

“Really?” She breathed, hands gripping onto his shoulders for the second time that night. He chuckled lightly, before he furrowed his brows in pure focus, his speed picking up fast. She was lucky she were so wet, because his pumps were so unforgivingly rough, she wrapped her arms around him tightly to have something to hold on to. His teeth were gritted tightly and she moaned by his ear, sending a shiver down his spine that only made him thrust faster.

Harder.

That’s what she’d been screaming out to him, and he didn’t know he could go any harder as he was giving her everything he had. Sweat began to bead across his forehead and without communicating with her, he slipped out of her. She opened her eyes to look at him desperately, feeling completely empty without him inside her. He didn’t speak as he pulled her off the counter, the edges scraping her skin in the process. She ignored the stinging feeling as she was being bent over the bathroom counter, completely facing the mirror as Dean was right behind her. He proudly looked at the sight in the mirror before ramming back into her pussy from behind, his hand yanking her hair back at the same time. She let out a rasped whimper, and she could feel him twitch inside her just in that moment.

“Like that?” His voice was nasty, so out of breath, yet still deep. He looked on at her in the mirror, and a tired, lost in a world of pleasure girl looked back at him. “Yes!” She let out, her words breathy as she attempted to grip onto the marble counter in front of her.

“I’m gonna fuck that bitchy little attitude right outta you.” He grumbled by her ear as his hands both harshly gripped onto her hips. She sent him a look of anger in the mirror, and he cheekily leaned down to press an open mouthed kiss on her shoulder in response. The sound of their skin slapping together rang around the room, along with their loud moans of pleasure.

“I think I wanted this for so long… so fuckin’ long.” He groaned, his voice low as if he were talking to himself. He looked back up from the sight of his dick disappearing inside her to make eye contact yet again. “Shit… you feel so good. You look so good like that, princess.” He moaned. Dean released one of his hands to grip back onto her hair again, loving the aggressive gesture, and he knew she loved it too.

She looked on in the mirror with hooded eyes as he fucked her, her breasts bouncing about as he did. He didn’t know what to look at, her desperate face as she let out low, raspy moans, her breasts bouncing around after each thrust, or how sexy she looked with a fistful of her hair in his hand. He reached his free hand around her waist and down to her clit to rub fast, hard circles against the nub. His deep, occasional groans resonated through the bathroom, and made her whimper to herself. Something about his moans were so hot, and she couldn’t hear enough. She was past the point of wondering how she got here, and just wanted him to shoot his warm load inside her.

As if he read her mind, a breathless Dean mumbled out, “Are you on the pill?”

She nodded, as much as she could considering he had a fistful of her hair pulled tight in his hand. She desperately rocked back onto him, feeling a second orgasm near.

“I’m so close, Dean! I’m so close…” She panted, dirty, desperate rocks of her hips met her ass with his skin, resulting in him letting out a long, low growl.

“Cum for me. Cum for me now.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his grip on her hair not faltering one bit. “I’m gonna cum in this pretty lil’ pussy.” He promised, his mouth curled up as he watched himself pound away at her in the mirror.

That seemed to send her over the edge as she let out a fit of whimpers, her body slowly grinding out onto him as pants of breath left her lips. She was riding out her sudden orgasm, and every moment of it left her exhausted. But, he wasn’t done with her. He picked up speed as he felt himself come close, her tightening around him when she came. Dirty curse words slipped from his mouth left and right. His thrusts then seemed to slow, and she was still whimpering underneath him, taking what he was giving her as her over sensitive heat took in his seed, the spurts of his cum shooting deep inside her.

“Shit!” He groaned, his teeth gritted and fingers dug deep into her skin as he rode out his high, before pulling out and soon seeing a drop of his cum begin to leak out of her. He stared at the mess he made, no doubt proud of what he’d done, from the mess of her mascara, her disheveled hair, and the faint but noticeable bruises beginning to form on her skin.

They both looked at each other through the mirror, their faces flushed and messy, before she turned to face him with what looked to be a tired smile on her face.

“I think we found a way to get all of our anger out.”

#dean ambrose #dean ambrose smut #dean ambrose imagine #fic #wwe imagine #dean ambrose x reader #dean ambrose x oc #dean ambrose gif

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 7 years

Text

Canadian Girl*

Chapter Thirteen

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC | Word Count: 4841 Warnings: Angst, mention of a past abusive relationship, Smut, NSFW (18+), stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

Kennedy pressed her hands to her face and rocked ever so slightly back and forth. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt as if it was going to burst right from her chest. All her old fears, her faults, and her failings had just been thrown right back in her face.

He hadn’t said more than a handful of words, but it all came back like a wave of loathing and pain with the first glimpse of his smug face.

She’d done a good job with her false bravado, but the adrenalin had worn off, and now she couldn’t stop shaking.

“Kennedy?” Natasha called quietly in the empty room.

Heeling away the tears which had escaped down her face, Kennedy cleared her throat. “Ye-yeah, Nat?”

“You did really well,” she said, placing her hand on the outside of the stall door.

Gasping a rather wet chuckle, Kennedy leaned her head against the wall, knocking her hat askew. Finishing up, she left the stall and headed for the sink, not bothering to look in the mirror as she washed her hands. “He made me feel so…” She shook her head.

Nat waited for her to be done before handing her a damp towel. “Your makeup’s running.” She watched carefully as Kennedy lifted the towel to drag it beneath her eyes, never once turning to check the mirror. “He’s wrong you know.”

Clearing her throat again, Kennedy muttered, “I know…”

Nat leaned against the counter. “Don’t let him drag you back to where you were six years ago, Kennedy.”

Sighing, Kennedy laid the papers down on the counter, looking at the streaks of makeup which marred the towels. “I’m not you, Natasha. I’m not strong and confident, not in this. I let him break me down, could see it happening, and still, I let him take all of me apart. Piece by piece. Chipping away at who I’d been. How weak am I that I let him do that to me?”

“You’re not asking the right question, Kennedy,” Nat said, taking her hands. “You should be asking what kind of twisted person does that to another person. Sweetie that man would find faults and flaws in whatever woman he was with.”

She knew that, truly, because Carl was an asshole who got off on controlling women, but it didn’t make her feel any less dumb. “He makes me feel… just so… stupid.”

***

More tears filled Kennedy’s eyes and slipped down her cheeks, but it was the words which had Natasha’s eyes widening in sudden understanding. “Oh man. Oh wow.” She had a flashback to the fight Kennedy and Steve had at the Tower before she’d run home. “No wonder you were so upset.”

Nodding slowly, Kennedy sighed. “It was like... I’d fallen for Carl all over again. Deception, half-truths, avoidance, and then to find out he’d lied, even a lie of omission… It was like it was happening all over again.”

“Kennedy, I’m so sorry. You know Steve never meant to hurt you. We just don’t get this anymore. It’s nearly impossible to go anywhere without being recognized. To have you look at him as a man first before you found out, he was Cap… was really big for him. So many people see the shield and never beyond it. For you, it was the other way around.”

“I know that, and I understand, Nat. I love him, I do, god, so much it hurts sometimes! I just feel… less than he deserves.” Removing her hands from Natasha’s, she pressed them to her face. “I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.” Sighing, she picked the damp towels back up and wiped her face.

Patting the woman’s shoulder, Nat had her heart clench.

Kennedy had suffered through her own battles, fought her own demons, and Natasha found her inspiring. She’d trained herself to control her powers mostly alone, fought off depression after the incident with her cousin – a misfire caused by an overexcited Kennedy which had nearly killed Danny - finished high school at sixteen to jump swiftly into University, taken multiple degrees and doctorates at the same time, fallen in with Carl and had him drag her down as far as he could before Kennedy had finally fought her way free. Then, she’d gone to work for a man she feared to do as much good for the world as possible and had fallen in with them.

Kennedy wasn’t a soldier, she wasn’t a super-secret spy, she wasn’t battle-tested in the traditional sense, but damn if she wasn’t rapidly becoming a woman Natasha respected all the more for the way she just kept getting back up. Every time the world knocked her down, Kennedy stood up, dusted herself off, and smiled as she just kept going. Some of that had to do with the amazing family she came from, but most of it was just who Kennedy was on the inside. There was a will of vibranium in the core of this women.

“I really admire you, Kennedy.”

“What?” Kennedy whispered, head snapping up to look at her. “Why?”

Smiling softly, Nat took the towels and helped fix the mess of Kenny’s makeup. Clearly, she wasn’t ready to look in the mirror. “You’re so damn strong, Kennedy. No matter how far life kicks you down, you just get back up. The strength you have here,” she gently tapped Kenny’s heart, “Rivals that of Captain America himself. You’re an inspiration.”

“Nat…” Kennedy shook her head.

“You’re stronger than you think. You stood before your abuser and told him he was nothing. Don’t make him into something because he got under your skin with a few ridiculous comments.” She snorted softly in derision. “After all, he called Steve fat. How wrong can one person be?”

A surprised giggle burst from Kennedy’s lips. “His eyes were so big!”

“I thought he was going to wet himself when Bucky jerked him up by the shirt.” Nat snickered.

“I kind of wish I’d kicked him…” Kennedy whispered.

Natasha looked at her with a smile which made men quake in their boots. “I can teach you if you want when we go home.”

Kennedy ran her hands down her hips and thighs self-consciously. “I don’t… I won’t be any good at… that.”

Shaking her head, Natasha smacked Kennedy’s hands. “Do not even start! Do you know what I’d give to have that bubble ass and those tits? Girl, don’t even go there. You’ve got the whole hourglass, Kim Kardashian, pin-up girl vibe going on. Add some red lips, and a pair of short shorts and Steve would need to pack his shield permanently just to hide the evidence.”

“Oh my god, Natasha!” Kennedy barked out in laughter.

“Honey, you are hot with a sizzling H. Just cause pencil dick couldn’t get it up without bringing you down has nothing to do with you.” Pulling lip gloss from her pocket, Nat applied a swath to her lips before offering it to Kennedy.

She snorted out another laugh, turning to face the mirror. A little red around the eyes, Kennedy had managed to avoid the ugly crying and wasn’t too splotchy. Her makeup was pretty much gone, but the bruising around her eye was faint thanks to Natasha’s homemade bruise cream. It would hardly be noticeable once they were back in the dimly lit bar area. Slicking the gloss over her lips, Kennedy handed it back.

Smirking wickedly, Natasha said coyly, “After all, I doubt Carl could have kept it up for three minutes, let alone three hours.”

“Natasha!” Kennedy squeaked, blushing red right to the roots of her hair. “How… when… who told you about that?” she finally hissed.

“Sweetie, I’m a spy. No one needs to tell me anything.” Grinning, Nat sauntered towards the door.

Once through it, Kennedy was immediately seized by the firm grip of Bucky who tugged her towards him. “Bucky?”

“Come dance with me, doll. Then you can buy me a beer with some more of your weird, colourful money.” He smirked, teasing just to rile her up.

“Weird! Our money is not weird!” she huffed indignantly, following along as he dragged her away.

Natasha made to follow only to have her elbow captured. Frowning at Steve, she was unprepared when he dragged her into a tight hug. “Steve?”

“Thanks, Nat,” he murmured near her ear.

“Rogers!” she gasped in mock surprise. “Were you eavesdropping? How very un-Captain America of you.” She’d known damn well both the super soldiers in the hall would hear every word and be perfectly fine with it. She wasn't about to let Carl ruin the night after Kenny had been having so much fun.

"You're right though. Kennedy is an inspiration,” Steve said, hugging her tight.

“She really is, Steve.” She hugged him back, kissed his cheek, and pulled away.

***

Later that night, Kennedy lay with her head over Steven’s heart. Naked and a little drunk, her whole body hummed contentedly after his loving. Every time he touched her it was stars and fireworks and passionate words. “Do you think it will ever not be this way?”

Stroking his fingers through her hair, Steve hummed happily. “No, doll face. You’re always going light me up.”

“Did you have a thing with Natasha?” Mentally, she kicked herself for asking something she hadn’t really wanted to know the answer to. Loose lips were always a problem for her when she’d had too much to drink, but she'd caught the little exchange they'd had in the hallway outside the washroom.

Frowning, Steve rolled so the light coming through the hotel window shone on her face. “What brought this on?”

She shrugged, unable to meet his eyes.

Cupping her cheek, he stroked it gently with his thumb. “We kissed once. Middle of a mall to escape detection by the Hydra agents which were chasing us, just before SHIELD fell. Afterward, she asked if it had been my first kiss since nineteen-forty-five.” He rolled his eyes.

Kennedy snickered at the look of exasperation on his face. “That bad, huh?”

“The wrong partner,” he said, taking her lips in a gentle, soft kiss.

Her breath quickened, body warmed, and he drew his hand down her torso to her waist.

Lifting his head slowly, he watched her eyelids flutter open. “In total, I’ve kissed five women.”

“What?” she was kind of stunned.

“Peggy, whom everyone knows about. She was my first love and…” he shrugged, eyes sad. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Steven,” she murmured, cupping his face. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “It’s alright. She was happy. Got married and had a family. It’s what she wanted.”

But she could see the twinge of pain it brought to his heart to remember.

“Before that, there was this secretary who kind of just grabbed me by the tie and kissed me after I’d rescued Bucky and the 107th from behind enemy lines. There was this whole, saved all those women’s husbands speech over it that I...”

She smirked at him, and he cleared his throat.

“Moving on. Nat was number three, and you know how that turned out.”

She snickered and made him grin.

“But Sharon was the only other woman I dated before you.”

She stared up at him in shock. “Two? You’ve had two girlfriends?”

He flushed a little and looked away. “Been kinda busy saving the world and all that. Haven’t exactly had time to be a social butterfly.” He looked down at her and the smile on her lips. “And I don’t take sex lightly, doll face. It means something to me when I bed a woman. Like a promise.”

“How on god’s green earth did you become Captain Sex on Legs after only one girlfriend?” What the hell kind of lover was this Sharon?

Chuckling softly, he brushed his nose over hers. “I ain’t going to lie, baby. I enjoyed what I had with Sharon, but this? Shit, Kennedy. You’re like Aphrodite, goddess of love in my bed. I’ve never felt the things I feel when I’m with you.” Dropping his lips to her cheek, he shifted over top of her and smiled when her legs wrapped his waist. Rubbing his renewed erection through wet folds, he groaned softly as he sank into her. “It’s like coming home, baby. There’s just nowhere else I’d rather be. No one else I’d rather be with than you, Kennedy.”

She arched up as he slowly made love to her. Long glides of thick cock through sensitive folds left her breathless and moaning. Her hands drifted down his back, and she pulled him flush to her, loving the way his chest brushed her sensitive nipples. “Steven…” she whispered near his ear. “I love you.”

“Kennedy… you’re mine.” He crooned back, dropping his head to her shoulder as he pumped into her tight body. Turning his face to her throat, he found the spot with her tattoo and brought his mouth to just beneath it, sucking in time with his thrusts as he increased his speed. Once he’d left a nice mark on her, he drew his lips back to her ear. “I love you so much, baby. You going to come for me, my best girl? Come for me like the good girl you are?”

A particularly strong thrust of hips set her moaning. “Again…”

He complied, and she felt the pleasure slam up her spine.

“Oh god, Steven…”

“That’s it, baby. I love it when you moan like that. Claw me up, sweetheart. Scream my name!”

“Steven!” she shrieked as he fucked her deep into the mattress. “Fuck! Yes!” She clamped like a vice around him, raking her nails down his back.

Groaning, Steve slammed his hips into hers and held tight as she squeezed hot ropes of seed from him. “Fuck, Kennedy,” he moaned, collapsing down on top of her. “Baby…so good. Every time with you just gets better and better.”

Releasing the grip of her thighs, Kennedy drew her hands down his back. A soothing gesture as she could feel the welts her nails had left behind.

He was heavy, but she kind of liked it, especially as he was still mostly hard and twitched at the aftershocks her body was experiencing. “My big strong soldier brought down in his prime by a woman.” Turning her head, she lightly licked his ear.

Humming, Steve turned his, closing his teeth on the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder with a growl. “Keep it up, woman, and I’ll make you work for it.”

“Oh? How so?” She tightened her inner walls, making him shiver.

***

Sliding his arms beneath her, Steve sat up and back, the bedding falling from them as he held her hips tight to his so they stayed connected when he stepped from the bed. Striding slowly across the hotel room, he made his way over to where the floor to ceiling tinted glass window looked out on the city skyline.

They'd ended up with one seriously elegant suite thanks to their last minute booking, one he’d charged to Tony, but now he was glad they had the luxury for he sat on the bench placed before the window and leaned back against the glass. It was cold, but at the moment he didn’t care.

“Steven?” she whispered arms tight around his neck. “The view kind of gives me vertigo.”

“Then look at me, love.” Making sure her knees were comfortably placed on the bench, Steve drew his hands up her back, along her ribs, eventually coming around to cup her breasts and lift them to his mouth. “You were so beautiful tonight on the dance floor. All swaying hips and sexy eyes. Dance for me now, Kennedy.”

Moaning when her nipple was engulfed by his mouth, Kennedy reached for the remote on the far end of the bench and gave it a click. “Ha! Perfect.”

Sultry music spilled out of the speakers. She tossed the remote to a chair behind her.

“How’d you know?” Steve asked, plucking at her nipple with his lips.

She smirked down at him. “High-end hotel, luxury suite, the music is always mood music.”

“And have you often needed mood music, Kennedy?”

She’d asked first so he figured the information was fair game. Peering down at him, she cupped his face in her palms. “Three boyfriends. Jake when I was in my first year of high school. Sweet and kind but no chemistry so we parted. Tommy, when I was sixteen, was my first lover. He was gentle and giving and taught me to enjoy what we did, but I left for UNI early so it was a bittersweet ending. Carl was the last.”

“We don’t need to talk about him, not right now. But I do want to know, Kennedy, when you’re ready. I want you to feel free to tell me anything and know I’ll never judge you for it,” Steve said. A shadow flickered in her eyes that had him closing his hands on her ass to distract her. “Dance for me, baby.”

As the music changed into a heavy, thudding base, Kennedy’s eyes darkened, her hands fell to his shoulders, and she gently began to move to the rhythm.

“Merciful God…” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the siren she became when she moved over him.

A smile graced her lips, and she sat up straight, keeping her movements slow, sensual, a gentle undulation of her hips over his. Just the slightest press and retreat, glide of moist lips over hard shaft. Drawing her hands to her hips, she followed the curves and planes of her body, up to cup her breasts, skimming them up her chest to dive into her loose, wavy locks. The music quickened and so did she, riding over him in gentle arcs and dips. She arched her head back and groaned out, “Captain...” Lights and shadows played over the glistening skin of her body.

Steve gripped her ass just a bit tighter, rocked her just that much harder down on him. “Fuck, baby.”

Emeralds, hard as stones, peered down at him and Kennedy smiled a grin which nearly stopped his heart. When the hell had she learn to smile like Natasha? She looked like she was going to eat him alive. Slowly, Kennedy released the hold she had on her hair, letting her hands fall to find his wrists. Pulling his hands from her ass, she lifted his arms and pressed his wrists to the glass.

He moved for her, knowing it made her happy when he was a willing participant in her games.

She would never have moved him otherwise. “You said you’d make me work for it, remember?” she smirked. Her lips were inches from his, her breasts rubbing teasingly against his chest, and her tight walls kept sliding and squeezing over his cock.

“Kennedy...”

“Do you want me to work for it, Cap?” she whispered against his lips.

“Yeah. Yeah baby,” he murmured back.

“Hands behind your back, soldier. Link your fingers together.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He was pretty damn sure his cock had just grown even harder if that was at all possible.

When Kennedy moaned on her next downward stroke, he knew it was.

He was quick to move his hands behind his back when she let him go.

Another smile crossed her lips before she placed them softly on his. “You ready for this, Cap?” Her lips whispered over his, a counterpoint to the heat and wet of her tight body.

“Give it your best shot, doll.”

Sitting back, Kennedy drew her nails lightly over his pectorals, traced the edge, and ran her thumbs over small, hard nipples. She watched his muscles flex in his arms when he clenched his hands together. A laugh spilled from her lips, low and husky and just a bit wicked. “Struggle all you like, Captain. Your mine for the foreseeable future.”

His brow arched, a smirk twitching his lips before he sobered.

She’d taken his dance and turned it into a little role play.

“Do your worst, Doc. I ain’t giving you nothing.”

Rocking up, she rested her hands on his ribs, held herself above him, just barely connected, a smile flirting with her lips. “You think you can resist me? Resist this?” Slowly, inch by inch, she lowered back down until he pressed against her core. Rolling her hips, she mimicked a smooth canter, making his mouth fall open. “What information are you protecting?” She was killing him with her open-minded, adventurous spirit.

“Rogers, Steven. Captain, 54985870. Date of birth, July 4th, 1920.” His heart was pounding, his chest heaving. Cock throbbing in a way he’d never known before. “You’ll… get nothing… from me!”

Tsking softly, Kennedy clenched her fingers into his ribs, made him flinch. Then, she tightened her inner muscles and smirked when his mouth dropped open again. “I think, Captain, you want to give me the information.” Rising up, she slammed her hips down in three hard plunges and moved a hand to her clit. “I think you would happily give it to me if only I would let you touch me, no?” Rubbing small circles, she groaned deeply. Her other hand went behind her to his knee as she arched back, giving him a show. She rocked and danced and undulated over his lap to the heavy pulsing beat.

He could see himself disappearing inside her body, his cock glistening with her essence. His hands ached with how hard he was gripping them together. “Fuck, Doc.”

Her hair swung behind her in a curtain of silk, and her body glowed in the light from the window. Sweat was beading on her skin, trickling down between her breasts.

His palms itched to grab her close so he could lick at the long line of her exposed throat.

“Give me what I want, Captain, and you can take what you want.”

His biceps bulged, chest heaved, and a heavy flush invaded his face.

Her sultry eyes had darkened into a deep green, showing her pleasure in their shining depths behind her lashes. A pink tongue darted out to moisten her parted, panting lips, leaving them glossed as her teeth caught the bottom one in a sexy little bite.

“No…” He managed to groan out. “Rogers, Steve... Captain, 54985870. Date… date of birth, July…..4th, 1920.”

She leaned forward to labour over him, her smile knowing with his faltering, sliding her hand over his shoulder and into his hair. She gave it a gentle pull, rocking her hips down hard before pressing her chest to his and her lips to his jawline. “But you want to. I can see it on your face, soldier. Just give in, Captain, and this can all end.”

He was pretty sure he’d cut off the circulation to his fingers by this point. “Doc…” Turning his head, his mouth sought hers, but she turned hers away and made him growl.

“Tell me what I want to hear, Captain,” she whispered, lips only an inch from his, holding him back by his hair.

“Kennedy.”

Her mouth was so close but so far. “Give in… give in and take what you want,” she whispered.

He could feel the flutter in her sheath and swore. “Damn it, woman!” His hands unlocked and sank into her hair. “I love you! Is that what you want to hear?”

She smiled that man-eating grin.

His abdomen was cramping from holding himself back, but she looked like the cat who’d eaten the canary.

“Thank you, Captain,” she crooned. “You’ve been ever so… helpful.”

Snarling softly, Steve slammed his mouth down on hers in a hard kiss, forcing his tongue past her lips. Hands smacking to her ass, he shoved to his feet, kicking the stool out of the way, sending it crashing across the room, and pressed Kennedy firmly into the glass.

She yelped at the cold.

He smirked against her throat. “You so deserve that,” he grumbled, driving his hips up into hers, forcing his cock deep.

Crying out, Kennedy wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning when he squeezed her ass with each hard thrust. “Why?” she whined, tilting her head when he bit at her shoulder.

“Made me break, baby. Me. Captain America gave in to the demands of my interrogator. How the hell am I supposed to live that down?”

“I also stole your gun,” she quipped.

He thrust hard.

“Steven!” she hollered.

Dropping her feet the floor, Steve pulled out of her rapidly tightening walls and spun her to face the window. “Hands on the glass, baby.”

The command, for it was hard and demanding in his voice which lashed authority, made her quiver in excitement as she placed her palms against the window.

“Good girl,” Steve said, stroking his hands down her spine. Gripping her hips, he drew her back slightly, forcing her back to sway. “Spread your legs, Doc.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Kennedy shifted her feet. Her body was arched, breasts swaying. Her lips parted on a breathy moan when he lined himself up and plunged back in.

Growling softly, Steve curved his body over hers, wrapped his arms around her, lifted her enough to press her chest to the window.

Another breathy moan escaped her lips when the cold hit her sensitive nipples.

With his body tight to her spine, he slowly, methodically, started to fuck her. Hard jerks of his hips, full glides in and out of tight walls until he was pulling nearly fully out before diving back in. Grunting, groaning, straining, with how she’d undone him, he took her on one hell of a ride. “You’re never allowed to interrogate anyone else. Not ever.”

Plastered to the window, Kennedy gasped, “Why?”

“Too fucking good, baby. Too good. Broke me down so fast.” Removing one hand from her body, he sought out her hand and clasped their fingers together.

Her face was turned towards him, cheek resting against the window, breath fogging it slightly, and Steve nipped at her earlobe, sucking it between his lips as he nibbled on it.

“Open your eyes, doll. It’s like we're loving in the open. Anyone could look out and see you pressed to the window. You’re on display for the world to see.”

Only she wasn’t. The glass worked one way, and the room was dark behind him. But a fresh rush of wetness soaked his cock, and he moaned. “You like that don’t you? Little voyeur. Do you like the idea of getting caught, Doc?”

“No…”

“Liar,” he whispered in her ear. Again he could feel the flutter of her tightening sheath. “That’s it, baby. You going to come for me?” He kissed her cheek and jaw, down her throat to her shoulder, and sucked on her skin, leaving little marks all along the length.

“Steven…” she moaned, staring out at the city lights. “Oh god!”

“Fuck, doll face!” He increased his pace, arching and thrusting, curving just enough to catch her sweet spot with every plunge until she drew a deep breath. He drove up in a rapid pace, causing her head to tilt back as a keening wail of release became of a scream of, holy god, Steven, when she came with the force of a train.

“Fuck!” he bellowed as he followed her over into nerve searing release. His hips pulsed with each jet of seed her clenching walls drew from him. She milked him dry, and he found himself leaning heavily against her against the window. “Damn, baby…” he whispered in awe.

Sighing happily, Kennedy’s legs shook a little when he pulled away, but his arms surrounded her and lifted her off her feet. “Mmm, was fun.”

His hands shifted her around. The music cut out when he pressed the button on the remote, plunging them into silence. “You nearly killed me, woman, with your teasing,” he grumbled, sliding them both back into bed. Kissing her lips, he drew the sheets up and wrapped his arms around her.

She’d been having nightmares off and on since… Hydra.

He found holding her like this the most effective way of keeping them at bay. After a week of sleeping in her bed, he knew tomorrow he would likely wake to find he’d moved down the mattress to wrap his arms around her hips and his head would be pillowed on her soft belly. It was a fantastic way to wake up.

A smug grin flashed on her tired mouth. “You liked it.”

“Yeah, I did. Still, let’s keep the fact that you broke me and made me give up my Intel, between us.” He chuckled softly.

“I have made you a double agent now. You have been trapped by my sexual prowess. You’ll do anything to stay in my good graces,” she teased.

“Darn right,” Steve murmured. “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” she quipped softly and did just that.

Chuckling, Steve kissed her temple, curled around her, and followed her into dreams.

Next Chapter

#canadian girl #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfiction #avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction

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tellerford13 · 7 years

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MO ASTOR- CHAPTER 30

We don’t own the bikes, brothers, or any “related” Sons of Anarchy, trust us, if we did we wouldn’t have the time to write. No money is being made from our stories. So, please don’t sue. It’d be a fruitless endeavor indeed. That being said, Harley, Journee, and any other newbies are ours, and we don’t share. :Whispers in creepy voice: “My precious.” The universe This reality is a mix of cannon, and our own ideas. We strive to keep the boys cannon, but since we will be shifting around some of the events, that will reflect in our writing and their personalities as well. It’s our goal to provide you with quality fiction, and solid, fleshed out OFC. We appreciate constructive criticism and love LOVE reviews, they are a writers life blood and definitely help encourage us and inspire us. We will be posting on our Tumblr where we’ll have fun pictures from time to time as well. http://tellerford13.tumblr.com We’ll also be taking requests for one shots, preferences or imagines for all things Sons at our other Tumblr, so check it out and send your thoughts!http://tellerford13oneshots.tumblr.com/ And just for fun, we’ve decided to start a Pinterest for the story! So if you want a glimpse at our girls and see into our world, check it out! https://www.pinterest.com/tellerford/

A/n: A reward for your patience and continued interest. #Surprisepost #roundrobin

Mo Astor 30

Journee

“Scottie treating you alright?”

I glance over at Lee and toss her a look that screams really?

I sigh. “He’s not a Star Trek character Daddy. You know his name the same as I do. It’s too late to get cold feet now with your blessing.” I tap the chest tattoo, and he scowls.

“Being married is making you lippy. Now answer the question baby girl.”

“Chibs is awesome, like always.”

He narrows his gaze, and I look him in the eyes. He’s always been paranoid. It comes with the territory of being an S.A, but he’s also been in this life long enough to know how quickly things can go south for old ladies.

“If that ever changes...”

“I’ll let you know after I split his fucking head open myself,” I say determined to never be in the same position I was with Kyle again.

“That’s my baby girl. Now about baby Teller,” he says turning his intense gaze onto Lee.

“Wait. What? I’m not the married one.” “Doesn’t matter. You entered into a high-profile relationship. We all know what he’s capable of when it comes to women, but I’m assuming he's not stupid enough to break your heart.”

“Yeah Lee. How’s that coming along?” I ask batting my lashes as I take a healthy bite of the pork ribs cooked to falling off the bone perfection on the grill. It’s a Saturday, and the GB’s are having a family get together. Which looks a lot different from Charming because most of the men are bachelors. The boys are going to try to join us later, but I’m not holding my breath. Club comes first, and they’re off doing one thing or another.

“It’s going well. We’re good. I mean it’s Jax. You’ve known him all his life.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Dad mumbles.

I snicker. “Dad. Would I let my sister get played? No. I would’ve told her to pump the breaks before they even got started. They’re solid.”

“Lee?”

“We’re good.”

“Hmmm.” He sits back in his chair, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. My Dad is not my Mom. He’ll pop me in the mouth quicker than I can say boo. He doesn’t take disrespect lightly, and I know better than to give any his way. It might seem harsh to some, but GB runs a tight ship. They’re smaller, so they have to. There aren’t too many predominately black M.C.’s who have as much sway as we do, or who’ve been around as long. We constantly have eyes on us. Which means maintaining our image is a must. It’s one of the things I hate most about this life. Women are accessories and ornaments. We have to look, talk, and behave a certain way depending on the set of people we’re around. Why people think biker chicks are dumb, I’ll never know. We have to be everything. The homemaker, caretaker, alibi giver, and a million other things all in one.

“I’m glad to see you two settle down. I was starting to think no man would ever tie either of you down.”

I take another bite of my food to keep my sharp tongue busy.

“We were just waiting for the right man,” Lee says.

“Someone mention me?” Kick asks appearing with a wide grin. I notice immediately he’s rocking our charter patch instead of a Nomad.

Oh, shit. “You back with us now, K?” I ask the question so Lee doesn’t have to.

“Yeah, Me and the road parted ways amicably. How you doing, Lee?”

“I’m good Kick,” Lee says softly.

“She’s dating Jackson Teller now,” Dad says. His eyes are sparkling as he watches Kick wince and the tension rushes in and settles over the picnic bench.

I cough to hide my laugh. I don’t feel bad for the fucker. He did my girl dirty. I want him to realize how much he’s shit out of luck right now. You don’t decide to turn Nomad without so much as a warning and think your girlfriend is going to be okay with it.

“That right? You an Old Lady?” he asks.

Lee shakes her head no.

“Not yet anyways.” I add.

She elbows my side, and I give her a grease riddled kiss on the cheek.

“Gross.” She wipes it away, and we laugh.

“I’ll be seeing you,” Kick says giving her a lingering glance as he heads off.

“Never a dull day round here huh? When did that happen?” I ask gesturing toward Kick’s departing back.

“He got voted back in this morning. We need more bodies. Recruiting is slow going.”

“Because you’re so scary and picky,” I say.

He shrugs. “Takes a lot to wear the black and orange.” His chest swells with pride, and I can’t help the pride that wells up inside me. This is my family, and it’s good to hold court. Charming is a second home, but this will always be where my roots were first planted. I know Mom is giving us space so he can give us the third degree. They always did the good cop bad cop routine, unless I pissed my mom off. Then she could be every bit as terrifying as my father.

“Did we miss anything else major?”

“Nah. If you came around more, you’d know these things.”

“Touché old man, but I got a business to run, and she has one to keep afloat.”

“It’s true,” Lee says in a sing-song voice.

He grins, and I roll me eyes. I never knew a man so proud of his daughter doing tattoos.

“I know. We got an area set up for you in the clubhouse. You’re going to go home with a nice chunk of change.”

“I’ll never say no to the green. I guess I best fortify myself with lunch.”

“I’ll play Girl Friday and keep you stocked up,” Lee says.

“Thanks, wifey,” I say with a wink.

“Here comes your mother.”

Oh, imagine that. She must know you’re doing asking us a million questions and giving us the glare of doom. My mom is an undercover hoverer. I imagine I’ll be the same way with Filip. You don’t want to make them look weak, but you worry, and you watch and wait always prepared to ruffle feathers. As my mother would say, some things need a women’s touch. I bet they have some sort of tell, so she knows when it’s cool to come over. I should talk to Filip about that.

“There are my girls.” My mom envelopes me, hugging me against her ample bosom. The scent of her perfume reaches me, and I relish it. I don’t see them as often as I used to. I need to remedy that. They won’t be around forever, and life expectancy and freedom can be fleeting in our life. I’ll never forget the four years she spent behind bars. With my father’s job, there was no way I could be left alone at thirteen to fend for myself. His family had written them off, and my mother’s family continuously tried to get her out of the life. Sending me to live with them would only lead to disaster. Thank God, Gemma stepped up and took me.

It was a good business move, but it was also a huge show of trust. My father respected the hell of JT. He could never predict everything that would follow. The thought of his death still makes my stomach ache. I watch as Mom moves on to her bonus baby. She’d taken up the mantle of caring and guiding her along with Gemma as her Gram aged. It made us more than just best friends, perhaps that’s why we turned to each other sexually. What started off as experimenting turned into something else entirely.

I shift in my seat as desire pools in my belly, and thoughts of her creamy breasts and clean shaven pussy slip into my head. It's been too long since we had some girl time. I’d have to remedy that tonight. Can’t let my wifey fell neglected.

Mom moves to sit beside Dad, and we play catch up as we continue to eat. I enjoy the sun and conversation. I’m also secretly enjoying the kick in the pants Kick will give big brother. As soon as I get a chance, I’ll be texting him. I know the business he has is a gun run. It’s not hard to figure out. Barring a problem, they should be free, and this will be sure to get him here.

Half an hour later, I’m set up and watching a line form as I declare my makeshift tattoo station ready. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

***

My hands and back are screaming as I wipe the back tattoo of the GB grim reaper.

“Alright, Mack. You’re all done.”

We’d been working on this bad boy in two to three-hour sessions, and it’s finally complete. I roll back and grin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, brother, Go look at it.”

I nod toward the full-length mirror we’ve leaned against the wall. I roll my shoulders and crack my neck before I take in my surroundings. I spot Lee at the bar looking disinterested in whatever Kick is saying to her.

“This is amazing,” Mack says.

I admire the Reaper with it’s flickering flame eyes, and it’s skeletal fist raised with the GB emblem worked into the robe.

“Thanks, man.”

He walks over, and my jaw drops when he gives me a thousand even.”

“That’s too much.”

“Nah, you earned every penny of that tip, baby girl.”

I beam. “Thanks.” I quickly shut down shop, and move to rescue Lee.

I walk up behind her, plaster my body to hers and wrap an arm around her waist. I lean over her shoulder and smirk. “She’s not interested, and I’m not willing to share my bestie any longer. So shoo.”

He scowls.

“Bye, Kick,” Lee says. I kiss the corner of her mouth, and his eyebrows raise.

“Shit’s changed,” I say lowering my voice an octave and curl my upper lip. I know Lee has no feelings for him, but just the same, I’m not about to let him get any ideas. My brother has enough to worry about.

He raises his hands in the universal sign of surrender. “Aight, I know when I’m not wanted.”

Lee tilts her head back and bats her eyelashes. “My hero.”

“How long was he here bothering you?”

“About fifteen minutes. I made it clear I wasn’t interested, but he kept rattling on and spitting weak game. I was going to shut him down painfully after I finished my beer.”

“You’re so tempting. I can see why he couldn’t help but try.”

“Is that possession I see?” she whispers.

“Only people you belong to have names that start with J.” I fight the urge to nip her bottom lip. “We should go to our room and unwind.

We have our own room complete with a dresser with spare clothes, and two queen-sized beds in the clubhouse left over from the teen years when I was shuttled to and fro for visits and later living between to clubs.

“Unwind? Is that what we’re calling it?”

“I want to show you what Daddy’s taught me,” I whisper. The thought of dominating her has me wet and ready to play.

Her eyes darken, and her breath hitches. “Has baby girl grown up?”

“Why don’t you come find out?”

She drains her beer, and I laugh as she stands, and we head to our room.

Once we’re inside, I press her against the door and lock it. Her pulse jumps into her throat, and her eyes are half-lidded.

“Someone’s excited.”

“I’m eager to sample these lesson’s Chibs has been giving you first-hand.”

I bury my fingers in the dark silk of her hair. “Remember you asked for this,” I whisper against her lips.

She moans, and I fist her hair and yank slightly and guide her over to the bed. “Bend over, and lift that skirt. I want to see the one thing Kick will never have again.”

I give her enough slack to wiggle up the skirt and reveal the lacy black underwear.

“Look at that ass.” I trail my nails over her silk covered apple bottom. I release my hold on her hair and deliver a slap. She gasps. I bend down, grip the material with my teeth, and move them to her ankles. I leave them on, liking the restricted movement. “I wanted to do this in the bar,” I whisper as I ease her legs apart. “Eat this pretty pussy out in front of him.”

“Oh, God.”

“Would you have liked that?”

“Yes.”

“Naughty.” I grip her thighs and lean into sample her slick center. I moan as her creamy sweetness coats my tongue. I lose myself in the smooth flesh and flavor as I explore everything but the quivering needy clit protruding. I ignore the pretty pink pearl, sucking her lips into my mouth. She wiggles and I smirk against her skin. She’s used to ordering me. The tension in her body gets me high. The weariness from work is forgotten. I pull back.

“No.”

I slap her pussy, and she jerks and cries out.

“You’re not in control right now, pretty girl.” I palm her warmth, and she grinds against me. “Be still.” She grunts but complies. “Good girl,” I purr. I remove my hand and thrust two fingers deep.

“Oh, shit.” I smile as I give it to her fast and deep, angling, so I hit her sweet spot. She loves to stretch things out, but I’m in control, and I want to see her come undone.

“Journee,” She cries.

“Love it when you call my name, baby.” I bend and bite the area between her neck and her shoulder. Her slick walls clench around me as she yields trembling as she comes.

“No one can make you come faster. I think I need to give my brother some pointers. Would you like that?”

Her entire body shudders, and I grin. Tonight might be more interesting than I thought.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #Jax Teller #chibs telford #Mo Astor

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horrible-monstrosity · 6 years

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pool herpes episode -opens with a friendly reminder that mayor mayor's been shat to death on and small minority strong feeeeemale is in charge now thanks i hate it this... is about being random. lolsporkz it's actually an interesting concept interacting with Garnet's visions but fuck that line is dumb and then garnet destroys the donut shop's clothes property and leaves its customers hanging. what an asshole then steven dabbles in wasting food and wasting the time of the people who made it... except then they just communism it out to people, which is... just boringly saccharine now. then we bring up the fact that lars is in spess nd his parents must be fucked up as shit without even mentioning lars and the forget about it good fucking shit

This episode is something like, a good concept with a mediocre/dumb execution. Garnet starts fucking around because the previous episodes left her upset, and for her specifically there's the future vision thing to play into it... but she never showed any of that in the previous episodes since those previous episodes, and the "random" thing is just so... low-level, babyish, unoriginal, uninteresting. Like, she goes to the donut shop, and then just spills coffee everywhere like a fucking asshole, then she and Steven just walk out and spout off the next source of food in their line of sight. Why not try leaving the fucking city? You're just going through the fucking bullet list of minor characters on the SU wiki and reminding us they have hobbies or employment that comprise almost the entirety of their miserable existences. And then she just spouts "iDoN'tkNoWAnYthInGAnYmOrE" over... some fucking kittens. It's never even really been established she relies on her future sight to this degree- we just hear about it for one episode occasionally, basically. And again, she previously showed no signs of being upset over her ability to see Steven's future being fucked with. Nor was it established that this is how her vision worked, that she focused on something like "I expect Steven to act like a child" and went from there. Basically it's dumb

"let's just pick the thing we want to happen and do that" no fucking shit why does anyone need to be told this. not even garnet should need to be told this. I thought Garnet was a character who was supposed to be decisive and "never question yourself" n shiet?

garnet informs us steven totally don't act like a child no more. ... I mean I guess that's actually true, sometimes, kinda, but you shouldn't just fucking tell people what the development has been.

ofc the one garnet picks to keep is gril. ... I don't even know why that's an "of course" thing, but it feels like it is. That they would make sure to push it into our faces that new cat character is feeeeemale. and then they call her steven because muh genders donut realll stephen just cut off your balls already

and then vidalia painted steven naked. i feel like i need an adult

lars episode "everyone misses you soooo much! since sadie's busy with the band-" this is exactly the order of sentences steven wrote. "everyone totally misses you" followed up immediately by "have I mentioned sadie and the cool kids have completely entirely moved on lol". man remember when lars really wanted to be a part of that social group and was really fucked up over it? remember when things mattered? rmemeber we're supposed to hate Ronaldo for not thinking Lars is in space when he's just told it with no context and clearly he just thinks it sounds like bullshit. man remember when ronald and lars were some kind of friends? then ronald acts like even more of a dumbass for the entertainment of the audience. it's bad. mayor guy is empty inside. yeps, we get it, men are just sad failures and midget minority women are belelglrlblelgllrlelblelglrlb;e, even when the man is also a minority of some kind. then sadie gets mad at mayor for trying to be involved in his son's life. It's never explained whose bedsheets those even are, either- if it's his own then Sadie is just being an presumptuous abusive asshole, if it's hers then that would be so stupid of him I'd think it'd be impossible to have actually happened unless the writers were warping reality to create yet another scenario to shit on sad empty minority man. the beach city laughtards when the fuck did peridop join a fucking comedy troupe when did this even become a thing what is this shit then the actor man attempts to show his actual prowess at doing the things and everyone shits on him and dewey is sad again. at least actor man is supportive. maybe those two can just move the fuck out of this shit city and find something actually worthwhile to do with their lives away from these assholes.

BEING RICH HAS MADE YOU WEAK and then dewey gets hit in the fuck face we geeeetttt itttttttt fuckin commies then pedey shits on dewey too! his mayormobile is just trash! potatoes! well of course everyone's done with you~~ people grew up, lollllll aaaaand finally he's demoted to working at the fucking donut shop. ... I feel like the show has done something like this before. Put someone (most likely a man) in a completely sad and demeaning position and because they've been shit on so much prior they're happy with this sad scrap of life and it's supposed to be a good thing. It was probably Greg. Steven does a donut named after Lars, and this is supposed to mean the town cares about and is thinking of him, buuut... the selling point is that it's pink. That's just... no. Wh- where do I even start with this? The pink thing is a recent development. That in itself isn't the problem, but... the townsies did not know Lars as the pink guy. Him being pink is the mark of him having been dragged into space and having his old life irrevocably removed from his grasp. So Steven is telling the townsies to appreciate, and telling Lars he's being appreciated for, something the townsies never saw in him. Steven is basically telling Lars nothing the townies knew about him was worth anything. His personality? Him as a friend? Naw, go fuck yourself! Now that you're pink and in space we're all so much happier and have donuts and shit! The "who the heck is peridot" line is supposed to be a joke and is almost actually funny, but its inclusion here makes it seem like everyone else in the letter who did know him doesn't necessarily give a goddamn, leaving us to infer from their actions that they indeed do not give a goddamn. Maybe his parents care, but we barely fucking see them, instead we get Garnet babbling about Onion's parents and dodging the issue entirely.

#succ #steven pooniverse

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