#'it was a lucky championship' I am in your wall and I will bite your head off your neck. Cunt.

[alexjcrowley]

I am all against the "social" social media (that's why I almost esclusively used tumblr) but I think TikTok should have existed in 2009 to make very shirt aesthetic edit of Jenson Button at Brawn being sad during the entire second half of the season + montage of various people Luca di Montezemolo saying he's not world champion material/he doesn't have that one extra bit with the audio "There's really no way of winning/ If in their eyes you'll always be a dumb blonde"

[devildomdoofus]

Lemon Dreams: Part 2

[NSFW]

Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Part 1:

MINORS

DO NOT INTERACT

DO NOT PROCEED

‼️WARNINGS‼️

NSFW, wet dreams, mature themes, implied intercourse, swearing, UP TO CHAPTER 16 SPOILERS

Author’s Note:

You already know what I’m about to say 😅 I am very sorry for the delay. Work’s a doozy and I get stressed easy but.. I hope these are worth the wait!! Please enjoy ❤️

- DevildomDoofus

💖Asmodeus:

This day was rather an exhausting one for Asmodeus. Not enough people groveled at his feet as they normally did, he had a multitude of wardrobe malfunctions, and he just couldn’t quite get his hair to stay in place after he struggled for hours, earlier that morning, to get it just the way he imagined. On top of all of that, you were so busy keeping his brothers out of your hair that you couldn’t quite make enough room in your schedule for him. No, he didn’t blame you in the least, it was just frustrating because, on days like this, you were his sanctuary. You meant the world and more to him and whenever he was feeling out of it, you were right there to remind him just how amazing he really was. However, today.... he was meant to take care of himself.

No matter! He had a backup ‘chin up, Asmo’ kit waiting for him when he returned to the House of Lamentation and he wasn’t about to let anyone, or anything, get in the way. Once inside the house, he made a beeline for his room, put a Do Not Disturb sign on his door, and shut himself away with a click of the lock to ensure that he was certainly NOT going to be disturbed. He stripped himself all the way down to bare skin, dipped into his bathroom, and turned the knobs of his bathtub to the temperature that he enjoyed most. Then, he turned the radio to one of his favorite music stations, dimmed the lights, and lit a handful of scented candles before he finally slid down into the tub and sank low enough so that the bubbles tickled his nose. His eyelids felt too heavy to hold up any longer so he let them close as he let out a breath that he felt as if he had carried it all day. The heated water eroded the tension in his muscles and the sound of bubbles popping and music playing in the distance kept his mind from drifting too far down into a spiral. A waft of his favorite scented candle crept up to his nose and from its serene aroma, as well as the effects of the other combined therapeutic items, he was finally able to shrug away all remaining traces of the stress in his mind and body.

After his much needed bath and his before-bed beauty ritual, Asmo slips between the satin sheets of his bed and before too long, drifts peacefully into slumber.

As the Avatar of Lust, his dreams were no different than his life living with his sin; the adoring crowds, the self-idolization, manipulation, and, it goes without saying, the sex. Not much changes in the dreamworld when you’re practically living it in your waking world. However, this particular dream was unlike any he’s ever had before, and it was all because of you.

In this dream, he was a prince renowned for his looks, for his charms, and, of course, for his riches. But he had grown apart from that lifestyle and such a reputation was a tiresome thing, as it made it rather difficult in finding a proper romance partner that wasn’t after him for his looks or money. He wanted someone that loved and wanted him for who he was deep down. That is why he snuck away to a masquerade ball in disguise, in hopes of finding said partner. He spent a majority of the night talking with some people, dancing with others, and trying his damndest to find his future spouse but to no avail. He began to give up hope and with such a loss comes his indulgence of his sin, in which he finds the nearest and worthiest soul to charm, slip them away from prying eyes, and do whatever each of them pleased.

That is, until one peculiar stranger approached him, gently extended their hand, and asked him without words for a dance. He tilted his head in question, a bit hesitant, as so few ever dared to approach him first. They were either far too intimidated or in awe of him that they waited until he approached them.

The stranger smiled beneath the mask, their eyes giving it away, and they dipped their torso low in a respectful bow, so that they may communicate that they truly mean no harm, while keeping their hand extended in invitation. Asmodeus’ lips give way to a pleased smile and he gingerly takes the stranger’s hand as they lead the way to the dance floor. For hours upon hours, song after beautiful song, they whirled and spun in perfect unison as the crowd surrounding them gave way to their joyous dances. The chemistry was unmatched and Asmodeus was overjoyed, as he felt he had finally found his one, true partner. He simply had to know who they were.

Before the next song could play, he took their hand and lead them into an empty hallway where they may share their identities without nosey onlookers. Once out of sight, he brought his fingers up to the mask that concealed the strangers face and looked into their eyes in question, hoping that they permit him to do away with it. The stranger nods and Asmo proceeds, pulling the mask ever so slowly from their face and suddenly, Asmo’s mouth flies open with a gasp and he drops the mask to the floor. It was you.

“MC...?!” He pries his own mask away and looks at you in the same way an artist looks at their own masterpiece after years of hard work. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around you, tightly. You return the embrace, wrapping your arms around him and smiling from ear to ear. He parts from you only to cup your face in his hands and in a whisper he says, “I’ve searched for you for so long.” You smile warmly at him with a twinkle in your eye, replying “I’ve been looking for you too,” and he can longer restrain himself. He crashes his lips flush against yours in a desperate and hungry kiss. He‘s reluctant to let either of you breathe as he‘s pressing himself against you further, closing the distance between your back and the nearest wall. “I’ve searched for you,” he pants between kisses, “for so damn long.” He moves down to your neck, letting his teeth graze the skin before he sinks them down and licks the bite. The noises that you emitted due to his actions made his knees weak. With his lips close to your ear, he practically whines, “Please, may I have you?” You grab him by the collar, tug him back to look you in the eyes and with a hunger of your very own, you commanded, “Take me, Asmodeus. I am yours.”

He sweeps you off of your feet and into his cradling arms, carrying you to the nearest empty room to give you everything that you desired. With the door shut and locked behind you, he was back onto your lips in a matter of seconds, only this time, he was much more patient. He had finally found you, someone he was going to love far greater than he loved himself, and here you were in all of your unbridled glory, asking for him and him alone. Not for his money, not for his looks nor reputation... you wanted him for who he was and he could feel that as he danced with you, in the way that you kissed him, and would soon feel as your bodies became one. And by Diavolo, he was going to take his sweet time getting there. He paced himself, slowly stripping you of all of your clothing as well as all of his own, and kissed every inch of skin he uncovered of yours, starting from your neck and all the way down to the tops of your feet. He praised you as he went, not letting a moment go by without him practically singing your name and the glory that came with it. He snaked his way back up your body and, for the rest of the night and into the early hours of the morning, made love to you in the most beautiful ways, eliciting your sweet melodies of pleasure that he shan’t ever forget for as long as he lives.

Just as he was beginning to whisk you away to his very own castle to marry you, he wakes up. He whips his head around and you were nowhere to be seen, nor was he taking you to his castle to wed you. It was simply him alone in his room. He huffs out of frustration that it was all just a dream... but then he smiles widely with a giggle, bringing a pillow up to cover his reddening cheeks because the dream was unlike anything he’s ever dreamt before, or ever experienced in real life for that matter. And that experience was love. Not lust, romanticization, idolization, or a sorcerer looking for a pact. It was pure love. He simply had to tell you about this dream. He texts you to “come over right away! It’s an emergency! Be sure to come alone. ❤️”

Once you’re there, he sets the both of you down onto his bed, where he usually talked things over with you, snuggles up close to you and relays everything that happened in the dream... EVERYTHING. He didn’t leave out a single detail. To say that your cheeks could melt steel by the end of his storytelling, was an understatement. For the next few days, Asmodeus was like a barnacle on a boat. He never left your side and couldn’t stand being away from you for too long. He also was a little more protective of you against his brothers or anyone else that wanted your attention. He wasn’t having it. For now and maybe perhaps forever, you were Asmo’s, like the masquerade partner you were in his dreams.

❤️Beelzebub:

As a demon, and living in the Devildom, you just don’t really get to have many ‘good’ days considering the whole ‘sin’ thing and fighting in The Great War and then falling because of it and all that jazz. However, today was an exception for dear Beelzebub. He had eaten his favorite meals all day, was lucky enough to spend an exceptional amount of time with you and Belphegor throughout the day, won a championship game of Fangol (devildom football) against the toughest opposing team, and finally had enough remaining energy to celebrate his big win with a surprise house party involving one of his absolute, all-time favorite meals catered by you and Barbatos... human world cheeseburgers. And it wasn’t even his birthday! He’d have to mention this to his brothers to coerce them into doing some like this for when his special day came around but.. ya know... bigger. Oh! And don’t forget Belphegor’s favorite foods too.

The party lasted for hours on end as each brother spent an extended period of time congratulating him on his victory in between moments of him shoveling the food into his mouth, singing his praises for every move and tactic he used in the game that kept them at the edge of their seats, and hyping him up for the next game to follow in which they were confident in him bringing them another victory. Eventually, everyone’s batteries especially Lucifer’s had run out and the time for celebration had come to a close.

Lucifer sent the elder brothers and yourself to your rooms as he stayed behind to help Barbatos clean, as well as monitor Beelzebub while he finished scarfing down the last scraps of food and downing the final glasses of Demonus. “You played well today, Beelzebub,” Lucifer praised, as he cleared away the empty dishes surrounding Beel and the slumbering twin that rested on his shoulder. “I’m quite proud of you.” He paused for breath. “Then again,” he quipped, “I expected no less from you.” Beelzebub tried his best to flash his dimpled smile with his cheeks puffy with food before swallowing it whole, followed by an audible gulp, and chuckled. “Thank you, Lucifer. That means a lot to me.” Lucifer returned the smile, shifted some dishes from one hand to another in order to use the free one to ruffle a bit of Beel’s hair before he stepped away. By now, Belphegor shifted against his brother and mumbled incoherently. Fortunately, Beelzebub spoke Sloth and knew it was finally time to call it a day and take his twin to bed. He grabbed a final cheeseburger and stuffed it between his teeth, squatted low enough to allow Belphegor to climb sluggishly onto his back like a koala, and started towards their room with a light skip in his step. “What a day,” he thought to himself on repeat, all while tucking his brother in and getting ready for bed himself. As he turned the lights out and finally laid down, he gazed up at the ceiling with a dimpled grin on his face and let his thoughts venture towards you before finally closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. Of course, they always did ever since you held his hand to help him fall asleep way back when. And since you couldn’t always be there every single night to help him fall asleep again, he had to think of you as an alternative.

When it comes to his resting, unconscious mind, Beelzebub has four different reoccurring dreams.

He’s living an absolute carefree life with his entire family (including his late sister), not bound by sin or Diavolo, and experiencing paradise in its truest form with the ones he loves

It’s an everlasting, all-you-can-eat, buffet, catered by Barbatos, Luke, and you (with your human world cheeseburgers)

He’s reliving the terror of having to watch his sister get struck down and die. Sometimes he loses Belphegor and/or you too, and, if he’s really unlucky that night, he loses absolutely everyone he’s closest to. His sister, his brothers, you, Luke, Simeon...

Some fortunate or unfortunate combination of any of the above.

However, Lady Fortune continued to smile upon dear, sweet Beelzebub and tonight, he was going to experience a dream unlike any he’s had before.

It commenced with you and him taking a trip to the human world so that you could show him a few of your favorite eateries, restaurants, cafes, bakeries, and the like. Of course, Belphegor came along and was lingering close by, window shopping at furniture stores as they usually had the best products for maximum comfort. You first took them to a coffee shop and showed them all the delicious things they could buy. It took some major convincing (and elbow grease and the help of a twin demon) to pull Beelzebub away from the glass, encasing the baked goods, to keep him from drooling on it. Next, you ventured to a nearby ‘ma-and-pa’ bakery where the goods were stocked to the edge of the shelves with various handmade loafs, muffins, cupcakes and cakes, cookies, croissants. You name it, you smell it, and it was there. With stars in his eyes and zero restraint, Beelzebub slapped his wallet onto the counter and pleaded for as much of their inventory as the shop owner allowed. You two left the bakery with both arms carrying bags up to your elbows and giant grins on your faces. After breezing by a number of other food joints, you finally came to the crowning moment that you’ve been dying to show Beelzebub. The local candy shop. His eyes grew to the size of the sun and his mouth swung open as he gawked at the wonderland of hypnotizing colors and towering walls covered in sweets just beyond the window. Belphegor sighed, shook his head with a smirk and mumbled, “I’ll be out here if you need me.” He took the bags you two were carrying and sat on a nearby bench. Seeing Beelzebub unable to contain his excitement, you nodded to Belphie, took a firm hold of Beel’s hand with a big grin, and led him in.

You started off by showing him the taffy puller where the employees kept watch over the machine as it looped the taffy over and under. Then, you brought him over to the cotton candy machine as an employee was twirling the little ball of fluff into an adorable bunny. Finally, you brought him to the wall of candy where you could grab a bag of whichever size you prefered and stuff it to the brim with goodies. Of course, you handed him a couple of the largest bags they had available and off he went in search of a multitude of sweets. You, yourself grabbed a medium sized bag. When he returned to you, his bags were bloated and almost spilling out over the top but Beel simply couldn’t help himself. They all seemed so delicious. What you didn’t know is that he had a little surprise for you whenever you two left the shop.

Once the three of you returned to the House of Lamentation, Belphegor lazily saluted and headed off to the attic, whereas you and Beelzebub had some major snacking to do.

Sitting in the floor of his room, you took your time sharing sweets amongst each other and complimenting their sugary goodness... until he sealed his bags up, slid them away, and scooted closer to you. You eyed him in curiosity, unsure of his wellbeing considering he stopped eating so suddenly. “MC, I wanted to thank you for today and wanted you to know how much it meant to me...” He inches closer, knees touching yours. “...so, I got you something.” He held up a couple of boxes of Pocky, each in a different flavor. “Pick one.” You tapped on the box with your favorite flavor, and he set aside the remaining ones. Pulling out one of the sticks, he hovers the tip of it just outside the immediate reach of your lips. “Say ahh,” he requested, demonstrating by opening his own mouth. Your lips parted with an ‘ahh’ and he tucks one end of the Pocky stick between his teeth and placed the other end in your mouth. As your cheeks heat up and you look back and forth between his eyes in question, you spot a smirk making its way to his face and he takes a swift bite of the Pocky to keep you focused on him rather than letting go and backing away. You attempt to mirror his act by taking a trembling nibble of the Pocky, inching yourself closer to him, to his lips. He takes a bigger bite than before, rapidly closing the distance between you two. Before long, you’re but a mere half an inch apart and you shut your eyes as you consider just letting go before things could go any further. With the Pocky still between his teeth, he chuckles lowly and “look at me,” he demands. As your eyes open to meet his, he smirks and bites off the last bit of Pocky, lifts a hand up and cups the back of your neck and pulls you into a deep, flavorful kiss. His tongue slithers past your lips and chases after the taste of the Pocky that still lingered in your mouth. Meanwhile, he’s lowering you down onto your back and shifts in a way to keep you pinned beneath him. Your whimpers and moans keep stirring the flames inside of him, engulfing every other thought that isn’t you and this newfound hunger for something oh so sweet. He slinks down your body and strips you of your clothes as he goes, leaving little bruises and bite marks in the bits of flesh he uncovers. “I could just swallow you whole...” He reaches a hand down between your legs, swipes a bit of yourself onto his fingertips and drags his tongue along it, savoring the taste of you. “Fuck MC...”

Before he could do as he very much pleased, the intense growl of his empty stomach startled him awake. He is an absolute blushing MESS and the sheets of his bed have somehow become uncomfortable for his lower half. He looks over at his brother, hoping that he’s still asleep. Thankfully, the sound of a gentle snore confirmed it and Beelzebub tiptoed into the bathroom to cool down.

The following weeks, Beelzebub had a hard time avoiding you, bearing in mind that you were a big eater similar to him, and like him, wherever there was food or snacks, you were there too. It’s one of the reasons he used to feel so comfortable around you. However, the very reason for one of his comforts was the same reason it was harder in more ways than one for him to keep his cool around you because he couldn’t quite that sinfully amazing dream out of his head. You unknowingly made things more difficult whenever you offered him a handful of candy as his stomach growled around you. It brought that cherry red blush back to his entire face and he would make an excuse to go back to his room... and you could never figure out why. Was it the flavor? The gesture itself? Had you done something to make him uncomfortable? You got around to asking Belphegor and with a shrug of his shoulders, he replied “maybe he had a dream where he ate candy off of your body?” Your cheeks heated up at the thought and you tried to laugh it off, dismissing the idea. Still... just the thought of it kept you up many, many nights. If only such a thing would come true...

💜Belphegor:

Lucifer was NOT giving him a break. How could he expect The Avatar of Sloth to handle so many responsibilities that go against his very nature? Like waking up in general to go to school, staying awake during classes, completing assignments, kitchen duty, attending whatever event Diavolo was hosting simply because Lucifer said so... I mean, it was all TOO much. It was the same situation as if one were to ask Beelzebub to stop eating, or Satan to stop reading, or any of the other brothers to just toss their sins and means of survival into the trash and pretend they don’t have them, all for some goofy prince who decided it was ‘perfectly fine’ to bring different realm dwellers down into the devildom to be buddy-buddy, like there wasn’t a huge, gaping scar diving them all in the first place. Then again... two of them aren’t all that bad. Simeon is an old ‘friend of the family’ and MC... Well? MC is Lilith MC. And they were the warm light at the end of this bleak, never ending tunnel. The thin shred of hope in the world. And he was going to show them how much they meant to him in the best way that he knew how, while also giving Lucifer a headache in the process.

Belphegor plops down beside you at the large desk you two shared before the class could start. He glances around, noticing that the assigned teacher hadn’t shown up yet nor were any of the other classmates, and it was the perfect time to put his plan into action. He hooks his foot around one of the legs of your chairs and slides you closer to him so he could whisper in your ear without much effort. “Let’s ditch this shit hole.” You could feel the smirk against the lobe of your ear and the heat from his breath sent a shiver up your spine. With a heavy sigh, you glared at him and could tell from the twinkle in his caverns of amethyst that it was going to be an uphill battle to change his mind. “C’mon, goody two shoes. We won’t be gone long.” A blatant lie. “Belphegor, you know as well as I do that I can’t do that.” You were trying your best to stand firm, undeterred by his attempts at coercing you in hopes that his laziness would make its grand appearance and he’d give up. But not this time. This time, Belphegor had something he wanted to do for you and he wasn’t about to give up. “MC...,” he places a warm hand on your upper thigh, giving it a light squeeze as he leans in to the skin just below your ear with his lips grazing it, “what’s the matter? Afraid Lucifer will find out and tear you a new one?” He shifted his free hand to the bottom of your chair and jerks it around for your body to face his direction, his lips now very close to your own. He brings the hand from the chair up to your face and holds your chin snug between his index and thumb. Your face heats up enough that it could melt lava and your body tenses. You hear him chuckle lowly to himself, amused by how worked up you become from his actions. “What if he’s too busy nagging me to pay any attention to you? Hm? Worst comes to worst, we can just knock it up to you being ignorant of my...,” he pauses, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip while stealing a glance at them, then looks back up to you, “advances... and he lets you off the hook? What do you say to that, MC?” Your mind was empty and his hands on your body were making it difficult to even comprehend his proposal. You could only think of the low rumble of his voice and whatever the hell it was saying was probably going to come back to bite you in the ass later. However, something about the way he said it, the way he teased you in a such a way to get what he wanted... it was hard saying no.

You slowly nod your head, and the hands that once pinned you in place from the gentlest of touches released you a little too quickly. “Great!” he chirped in victory, standing up from his chair and offering his hand to you. You shot him another glare and reluctantly took his hand with an annoyed squeeze to his fingers. “Not for long. Promise?” He giggled, scooping you up into his arms bridal style. “No. Now act sick until we get to the attic. Don’t want anyone thinking there’s nothing wrong with you and you don’t need a day off.” You crossed your arms in a huff, feeling humiliatingly duped. But the way he was holding you made you feel a little bit better about it all, taking into account how much he truly cared for you and teasing you was just his cheeky way of showing it, while also getting whatever it is he wanted. With that in mind, you curled into his embrace and fully indulged in his scheme, letting out a few test trial, fake coughs and thought of something that distressed you to get the tears going... mostly for the runny nose and puffy eye effect. “Careful. Too great a performance and they’ll be badgering Diavolo to revive you in exchange for their soul.” You reeled back with your outermost arm and sent a heavy blow to his chest. “Kidding,” he laughed. “...sort of.”

Once you two make it behind the door of the attic with a quick turn of the lock, he sets you back down onto your feet and stretches his arms out followed by an audible yawn. “You almost had Mammon shift into his demon form over you. Great job.” he quipped. “Yeah, and I hated every second of it. Can we just nap already? All the crying and fake coughing tuckered me out,” you retorted. “Sure, I’ll grab our favorite blankets,” he said, ducking away to go get them. “And I’ll get the pillows and stuffed creatures.”

You separated for a moment to gather the necessities, tossed them onto the bed, and then huddled up to snuggle close beneath the mountain of comfort. You hooked a leg over his waist and he slid one between your legs, while you wrapped your arms around his neck and he draped one of his over your side, nuzzling his face into your chest. “‘night MC... and thank you.” he mumbled. You placed a chaste kiss to the top of his head and replied, “You’re welcome, Belphie. Sleep tight.” “You too.” And with your bids of sweet sayonara, you drift off into a deep slumber, one that only clinging to The Avatar of Sloth could provide.

One of the perks of being said Avatar of Sloth is that he can visit other people’s dreams, especially if he shares a strong connection with the host. Whenever you shared naps together, he’d sneak his way into your dream world and your mind was like a shared secret hideout because it was the only place you two could be alone for extended periods of time. It was also your own wonderland because he could make ANYthing happen. You wanted to fly amongst the stars? He’d take your hands and lift you both into the atmosphere. You wanted to become your favorite human world creature? He’d snap his fingers and away you two would scurry off. Whatever it was that you wished, he could make it happen within your unconscious mind. However, this go around, Belphie had a wish of his very own and one that he hoped you would grant.

Once he snuck into your dreams, he soon spotted you laid back peacefully upon a cloud, reaching your hand up to rearrange the stars in different shapes and patterns. He noticed you had made one of him and yourself, holding hands. The smile that crept onto his face was impossible to hide, no matter how hard he tried to come off as cold or indifferent. “Always knew you had an artistic streak in you.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, sitting up and clutching your chest. “That was fast,” you breathed. “A warning would be nice.”

“Why? I wouldn’t be able to get such a cute reaction out of you if I did.” He floated towards you and hoisted himself up to his place beside you on the cloud. “How charming,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with your own, earning yourself a light chortle from him. “So,” you continued, “what shall we do this time? Sail some open seas as pirates? Rob a bank as outlaws in the old west? Or maybe-.” He places a hand over your mouth and shakes his head with his shoulders jumping in light laughter. “You seem to forget who I am, silly. I say we continue from where you left off before you were so rudely interrupted, hm?” He lays back onto the cloud and pulls you down next to him. Then, he takes your hand by the wrist and lifts it back up to the stars and starts moving your fingers in different motions so that you’re creating various works of art as you had been before. Getting the picture, you giggle and continue moving your fingers to shape the stars with him watching you in adoration... but he’d never tell you he did so. At some point you make a cow and point it out to him, laughing at your own joke referring to him in his demon form. “See? The resemblance is astounding!” He smirks, sitting up and looking down at you. “Oh yeah?” he asks, his tone hinting towards a playful threat. “Yeah!” you swat at him.

That was your mistake.

He grips your wrist with one hand and rolls over top of you, taking your other hand and pinning both of them above your head. He trails his free hand from your face, down your side and rests it on your hip, keeping you in place beneath him. Your skin twitches under his gentle touch and your face heats up again as your breath becomes hitched in your throat. “N-not fair...” you whined, squirming and trying your best to get the upper hand. He shakes his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Still forgetting who I am, MC?” He leans down towards your ear, his lips grazing the lobe. He practically growls in your ear, “I don’t play fair.” His gripping on you tightens as he moves lower to sink his teeth down onto your neck, earning him a soft whimper, one that spurs him on further. He snakes his hand from your hip beneath your shirt and runs it up and down your sides as he moves his lips to yours, giving them a bite every so often while occasionally slipping in his tongue. For the rest of the dream he is having his way with you and making your wildest fantasies become reality.. as much as your dreamworld allowed.

When he wakes, he opens his eyes to an empty spot beside him where you normally laid. He sits up, scratching his head and finding a new sense of uncomfortableness beneath the blankets, particularly at his groin. He searches the room for you but you’re nowhere in sight. “MC?” You pop your head around the corner of the bathroom doorway, weariness still in your eyes. “hmmm, yes Belphie?” As you switch off the light and shuffle back to the bed, slipping back underneath the blankets, he’s eyeing you in suspicion. “When did you wake up?” He asks, a gravel to his voice from such a deep slumber. “Well, as you were watching me paint with stars, my body woke me up because I had to use the bathroom...” you paused a moment in thought. “Did I miss something in dreamworld?” He ponders your statement for a second, unsure of how to respond. What it be so bad if he was just honest and told you what happened between him and.. what was supposed to be you? “Yes, you did.” he smirked, “You painted a cow and said it looked like me.” “Haha, classic MC,” you quipped about yourself.

The remainder of your time playing hooky, you were the big spoon and his excuse was that it was more comfortable this way now. Unfazed, you snuggled up behind him and snaked your arm under his to place your hand against his chest. Only this time, he couldn’t sleep. Him. Mr. Sandman. Couldn’t sleep. His mind was reeling, constantly going over the way your body moved against his, how your voice and sounds were like lewd melodies to his ears, and the way you made him feel on another level... it kept him and his lower half up for as long as you were snuggled close to him and had your hand so close to his heart. However, the memory of the dream would last for eternity.

[lancearcherinrippedjeans]

Eternity - Chapter 6

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And we are BACK folks! Did you guys miss us?

Shoutout to @adriii-omega cause she wrote MOST of this chapter while Parker, (me, lancearcherinrippedjeans) has school and was sick!

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Starring - The MAGNIFICENT OC’s, Kenny Omega, Ricky Starks, The Best Friends, Private Party, Excalibur, Taz, Brian Cage, The Young Bucks and Tony Khan

Word Count - 6,792

Category - Fluff, tiniest bits of angst, comedy

6/?

Summary - The tournament is finally starting, how will it go with Nova on commentary?

Warning - Cussing, drinking, slight possesivness

Other author’s notes - Private Party are the STARS of this chapter, and this might look a little weird cause it was posted on mobile, also, follow @adriii-omega

***********

“First you leave me out of the tournament, and now you want me to go out on TV and play commentator?” Nova huffed, as she tried her best not to upset her boss; Tony Khan. “I know you’re not happy about being excluded , but I promise we have plans for you to do big things here in AEW,” he stood in front of her to block her path, “Plus, it’s only Youtube.” Nova let out a long sigh, “For how long?”

“Just until you become a fan favorite, you know like…” Tony stopped mid-sentence, trying to rethink his words. “Like Sawyer and Veronica?” Nova asked, already annoyed. “The fans are going to love you, I promise,” Tony grabbed the cream-colored folder off his desk and handed it to Nova, “This is the match card for tonight. Excalibur should have more info on all of the competitors, but you should know most of them.”

“You could just say Sawyer, Veronica, and Ricky. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings,” Nova joked, heading for the door, “Thank you Tony, but I hope this isn’t a waste of my time.” She shut the door, opening up the folder, and looking over the card for tonight.

She smiled to herself, looking at her friend’s names for the first round of the tournament. A long shadow caught her eye, causing her to look up and seeing Team Taz walking right her way. She gave a small wave to Ricky, making him turn all his attention that was on Taz onto her.

Ricky jogged over, “What weird stuff do they got you doing this week?”

Nova smirked, looking at Taz who was already annoyed they had to stop, “Well, I’m gonna be on commentary tonight!” She announced, plastering on a smile she definitely didn’t have in Tony’s office. “Does that mean you’ll be out there for my match?” his brows perked up in anticipation, “I’ll have the best seat in the house.” she laughed. Brian smiled as Ricky planted a kiss onto Nova’s cheek. Taz cleared his throat loudly, “Well if you guys are done making goo-goo eyes at each other, we gotta get going.” he pointed at his watch symbolizing the time.

“What are you talking about? The show doesn’t start for another two hours?” Cage spoke up from behind them. Nova and Ricky let out a small chuckle at Taz’s new expression. He stood with his mouth agape, darting his eyes at the FTW champion, “Thanks, Brian for correcting me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Is there anyone else that would like to make me look like a complete idiot?” He said through a fake smile. Nova raised her hand, “If it makes you feel better…I’m not on the card tonight,” Taz gave her an obvious expression. “Why would you be-”

“Instead I’ll be sitting next to you on commentary!” She gave him a bright smile, as his smirk disappeared. “The-the whole show…?”

“All twenty-four matches!”

“Oh HELL NO!! AYO TONY!?” Taz angrily marched down the hallway leaving Cage, Starks, and Nova in a laughing fit. “I can’t believe you,” Ricky said through laughs. “I don’t think I've ever seen him that mad.” Cage jokes, “Or run that fast.” He added, causing them to continue their laughter. “Poor Tony.” Ricky pointed, as an annoyed Tony Khan tried to reason with a loud mouth Taz. “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get fired, I’ll catch up with you guys later.” He said while jogging down the hall. Ricky finally caught his breath and held his hand out. “Come on, I want to spend time together before you and Taz kill each other.” he smiled, making her giggle. “I’m looking forward to it, maybe I can get him to… hate me less?” Ricky chuckled before placing a kiss on her forehead, “You’re lucky Excalibur will be out there.”

“And making her way to commentary… The SuperNova Jay!” Justin Roberts introduced, as the small audience of professional wrestlers cheered. “It’s a pleasure to be able to sit next to you,” Excalibur started, “You haven’t even said anything and you’re already better than Taz!”

“Shut up Excalibur,” Taz grunted.

Nova smoothed out her dress before taking her seat. “I’m so happy to be here.” She gave a smile as the camera was on her. “It’s been such an amazing few weeks for you already here in AEW, first you officially signed with All Elite Wrestling, and now two of your closest friends; Veronica and Sawyer are competing tonight for a chance to challenge Hikaru Shida for the AEW women’s championship.” Nova nodded, as Excalibur opened his mouth to ask a question, but was cut off, “I have a question for you Nova,” Taz joined in, “How does it feel that your own BEST FRIENDS are worthy enough of participating in this tournament, and you are…out sitting on the sidelines?” Taz smirked, as he saw Nova bite the inside of her cheek. Excalibur looked between them trying his best to move forward. Luckily Sawyer’s theme music began to play causing the tension to be lifted.

It was towards the middle of the match when Sawyer and Madi were tied up in the corner. “I’m going to try an arm drag-” Sawyer whispered, so only she could hear it. “No, you aren’t. I am not letting you look stronger than me,” Madi attempted to kick Sawyer in the stomach, but failed, as she lost her balance. Taz face planted himself, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more unfocused wrestler than Wrenkowski.” He complained as they slightly laughed, “Thank god Sawyer is one of the most professional women wrestlers there is,” Nova started, “You see I’ve known both of these females for quite a long time and this rivalry trails way further back than you would think.”

“Is that so…please tell us more,” Excalibur asked with interest. Nova began to speak but instead looked over and saw Taz staring at her with a half-smile. “Well, for starters Madi had ALWAYS been jealous of Sawyer. Though unfortunately, she was the champion at the time, Sawyer always got all of the attention, and that’s something Madi always wants.” They both nodded understanding, shortly later hearing the bell ring.

“Here is your winner: Sawyer Holden!” Justin’s voice echoed throughout the arena. She slowly stood up, allowing her hand to be raised by Aubrey Edwards. Nova sent an evil grin to Madi Wrenkowski as she clenched her neck from the Canadian Destroyer that was given to her. She rolled her eyes before stomping off through the tunnel. Veronica sat with the Young Bucks at the monitor watching everything go down. Nick let out a sigh, as Madi walked past them knocking over a few trash cans in frustration. “God, she’s so annoying,” he commented, making Veronica laugh. “Good thing you don’t have to go against her,” Matt chimed in, “I wouldn’t be able to take it.” They nodded in agreement just as Sawyer made her way back. She sent a small smile their way earning a thumbs up from Matt. “Are you guys still upset with each other?” he nudged Veronica, as she looked over and saw Sawyer in deep conversation with a group of wrestlers. “No, we’re cool.” She half lied. The brothers gave each a look, knowing something was off.

“Hey have you guys seen Kenny?” she spoke up, trying to get the conversation changed from her and Sawyer. Nick sighed, “He’s getting ready for his match with Sonny tonight since Janela was taken out.” She mouthed an “O” before grabbing her phone and opening the messaging app.

Is everything alright? Nick just told me Joey is out.

The next match had started, and Penelope Ford was going against Allie. Shortly later her phone buzzed.

Kenny: Everything is fine. Where are you at??

Sitting next to the Bucks, my match is coming up soon.

Kenny: I'm on my way over there, see you in a bit.

A smile crept up onto Veronica’s face as she began to watch the match. On the other side of the hall, Sawyer stood next to her friend: Chuck Taylor.

“I don’t know man,” she whined, “I don’t think she even wants to look at me.” Chuck rolled his eyes before placing both hands on her shoulders. “SAWYER. GO. ASK. HER.” He gave her a push before leaning against the wall. Everything was headed smoothly, as she made her way next to where Veronica was sitting…

“Hey V!” she piped, causing The Young Bucks to give her a hard stare. Veronica smiled as she leaned back into her chair, “I was wondering after the show tonight we could go to our favorite restaurant. Just us three - like old times.”

A voice cleared their throat from behind making Sawyer turn around. A perplexed Kenny Omega looked over at the group. “Don’t mind me. I just came to see my GIRLFRIEND.” He shot a look at Sawyer, before walking behind Veronica’s chair, “You were saying?” he smirked. Sawyer’s face grew with anger before she turned on her heels, “Just forget about it.” she mumbled. Chuck watched in disgust as Kenny began to laugh. Veronica bit her tongue until she heard the bell ring meaning her match was soon. “Sawyer, wait,” she called out, causing everyone to look at her. “I’ll be there. Meet me in the parking lot at 9?” she suggested. Sawyer held back her stun expression before nodding and walking off with Chuck as he made an “L” gesture with his finger and pointed at Omega.

The Bucks looked between the two, “We’re going to head back to the locker room now, we’ll see you guys later.” Nick scratched the back of his neck, as Matt gave them both a tight lip smile and followed his brother. Penelope Ford came back with enthusiasm since she would be advancing to the semi-finals against Sawyer. She gave a quick hug to Veronica, congratulated her, and went to celebrate with her fiancé. Veronica began to walk towards the tunnels as she noticed her opponent, Serena Deeb, was warming up.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Kenny spoke up, making her stop in her tracks.

“Is there really anything to talk about? I'm going to get dinner. That’s it.”

“But seriously? With…HER?” he scoffed, “When will you finally see she is no good?” Veronica turned around walking slowly towards her boyfriend, “Babe, you don’t understand how Sawyer and I’s friendship works…we’re fine.”

“I don’t buy it. I am trying to protect you. I am trying to protect US.” he ran his hands through his hair, “Kenny….” “She doesn’t like me, Veronica! She’s trying to break us up because she thinks you deserve better,” He stopped his rant, before giving a sly laugh, “But honestly…it doesn’t get better than me.” He clicked his tongue, before lifting her chin, and planting a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you, don’t ever forget that.”

Back out at the commentary table, Excalibur and Nova went over some of the other matches, while Taz stayed rather quiet compared to how he usually is. “And the main event for this evening, Veronica Rodriguez vs Serena Deeb in a semi-final qualifying match for the AEW Women’s championship tournament,” Nova announced happily, looking between the monitor and the stage for what was coming next.

Ricky Starks’ theme came blasting out the sound system of Daily’s Place, and both Nova and Taz snapped their heads towards the tunnel. Ricky walked out, playing air guitar and looking over at commentary. “Ricky Starks is one of the most charismatic and talented wrestlers there is now,” Taz started, hyping up his client, “Just look! Look at the physique!”

Nova shook her head, “I couldn’t agree more, Taz.” She stumbled, too busy watching Ricky to even get her words out.

Ricky looked towards the commentary table, Taz yelled some stuff at him, before Ricky looked directly at Nova. He winked, then blew her a kiss, looking back at the ring and climbing in to start his match.

“AYO STARKS!” Taz yelled, even though Ricky didn’t look over, “THAT WAS UNPROFESSIONAL!” Nova giggled to herself, looking down at the monitor to watch her man wrestle. Excalibur looked at Taz, who was still frustrated, before looking back at Nova, “Hey Nova you look a little red there? Everything alright?”

Nova smiled, Taz glared, “Shut up Excalibur!” They both shouted in unison, in two completely different tones.

Nova knew she couldn’t be like this the whole match. If she couldn’t wrestle, this was one of the ways to showcase herself, she couldn’t mess it up.

Taz and Excalibur went on about the match and each opponent, when she spoke up, “I think everyone can agree that something changed once Ricky stepped into AEW. I mean there isn’t a star like him. He moves quickly, he’s entertaining, his theme is so catchy, honestly Taz, I think you hit the jackpot with this one,” Nova smiled at him, he opened his mouth to speak when she continued, “I mean, between Ricky and Cage, they’re on fire. Just imagine them without you.”

Excalibur tried to hold in his laughter, Taz snapped his head over at Nova, “Now hold on just a second-” The bell rang, interrupting Taz. “Here is your winner: Ricky Starks!”

Nova smiled proudly at Ricky, as he made his way back to the tunnel. He gave her one last wink, before turning around, barely even looking at Taz. “While that match was very entertaining, let’s move onto our next matchup of the night, Nyla Rose vs Abadon!” Excalibur announced, straightening his suit.

The match went quickly, Nyla Rose would face whoever wins against Veronica and Serena. The camera was shot at the commentary table, and the three looked up. Nova smiled at the camera, listening to Excalibur announce the rest of the week’s matches. “And tomorrow night, make sure to catch Wardlow and Hangman in the semi-finals for an opportunity at the AEW World Championship.” Nova looked away from Excalibur and to the camera, clearing her voice, “And make sure you don’t miss Being The Elite on Monday, the best Youtube comedy show,” Nova paused, “But how about our main event tonight? I don’t know about you guys but I am bouncing off the walls excited.”

Excalibur smiled, “I’ve been waiting for this match before the night even started.” Veronica’s theme music played, she walked out, looking around the small crowd of people before looking over to Nova. “Hey girl! That’s my best friend! Kick some ass!” Veronica smiled, even more hyped up after the words from Nova.

“Now unlike Sawyer, no offense bestie, Veronica has held so many championships. She beat both of us in a title match a few years ago.” Nova mentioned, as Veronica set her shades down.

“Now Nova I have to ask, how do you think this match will end,” Excalibur looked over to her, “While Veronica is very strong and could make anyone tap...Serena Deeb is also-” “Yeah yeah she’s a yoga instructor, look at her record. Veronica is one of the best there is now. I don’t think we should underestimate her, Excalibur,” Taz interrupted, looking at the monitor to watch the match. “Took the words right out of my mouth.” Nova mumbled, focusing on the action in the ring.

Veronica finally got the upperhand, pulling Serena into a submission move. Deeb tapped on the mat, and Veronica stood, not able to hold back the smile on her face. She let Bryce Remsburg raise her hand, winking into the main camera.

“That main event was off the charts. I can’t wait for next week.” Nova said. “Yes, but first you have to catch AEW Dynamite tomorrow night on TNT,” Excalibur announced, looking to Nova to take it away, “Of course, one of the best parts of the week, I can’t wait to be back next week for commentary everyone, goodnight!”

The crew called out that the cameras were off, and Nova let go of a giant breath. “That was outstanding for your first time,” Excalibur complimented, “Can’t wait for next week.” He shook her hand before leaving the table, Nova being only with Taz. She looked over at him nervously, before he stood up, holding out his hand, “Not bad, kid. You’ll do just fine these next few weeks.” Nova shook his hand, smiling out of disbelief as he walked away.

Time Skip

The girls all laughed as they took a seat at their table. “You made Madi look like she could wrestle,” Nova insulted as Veronica nodded. “I think it may have been her best match yet.” The waiter placed a basket of rolls on the table mentioning he would be back shortly to take their orders. Sawyer reached in and took a bite. “Your match with Serena was really exciting , a couple of the wrestlers gathered around to watch. It was great.” Veronica smiled, “Thank you, it means a lot…but let's talk about Ricky blowing that kiss to Nova. You guys must be serious.” She wooed, as Nova rolled her eyes. “Taz was totally cock blocking though,” Sawyer added, making them burst out in laughter. Veronica’s phone started going off on the table making her sigh. She set the phone on silent and placed it in her purse.

“What does he want now?” Nova groaned. “Probably wanting to know her exact location this time,” Sawyer mumbled as she placed another roll in her hands. Veronica let out a small chuckle, having it fade quickly as she began to play with her fingers. “He’s just worried about me,” she started. “I can’t blame him. It can be a bit much at times, but he loves-”

“Eck, don’t use that word. I can’t believe you almost said that word.” Sawyer rambled. “You ain’t use it for anyone else, don’t start now.” Veronica opened her mouth to argue but was cut off as the waiter arrived putting the conversation aside for the moment. Once the waiter left, Nova snapped her head over to Sawyer, “But I must ask you, Sawyer, what’s going on with you and Mr. Chuck Taylor?”

Sawyer almost spit out the very expensive champagne, “What?”

“Oh c’mon. If you and Wardlow aren’t together, there has to be something between you and Chuck,” Veronica hinted, Sawyer just shook her head, “No way. No way! He and I are just best friends. And he would’ve tried already.”

Veronica and Nova exchanged a sly look, they knew Sawyer was oblivious, but for now, they planned to focus on the appetizer.

For the most part - the dinner went great. There were no more topics about Kenny (who seemed to be the main problem), and they all ate until they were stuffed, not having to worry about the bill at the end.

“Well if it isn’t the three most beautiful ladies in AEW.” A voice shouted through the hotel lobby. Isiah Kassidy and Marq Quen danced their way over with their million-dollar smiles glowing. “What y'all been up to?” Veronica grinned. Marq placed his arm around Nova causing her to flick it off.

“Just came back from training with Matt, nothing too exciting.” Isiah crossed his arms, leaning on the nearest wall. “You started freaking out didn’t you?” Sawyer questioned.

“Just a little bit.” Kassidy giggled as he started cheering. “It was Matt HARDY. Can you blame me?” He began to do the famous Hardy Boy dance before remembering he was in public and cleared his throat. “Anyways, we came to see if you guys wanted to do something tonight. We barely had the chance to hang out yet.”

“Sure why not? We have nothing better else to do.” Nova shrugged. “I’m cool with it, as long as Veronica is too,” Sawyer adds. The thought of having a good night with some of her friends fogged her memory, as she spoke before she got the chance to think, “Come over in about thirty minutes.”

Nova had walked to the nearest grocery store to gather a couple of items before Marq and Isiah would be coming over. “I feel like this night could go incredibly wrong if we’re not careful.” Sawyer brought it up. “How so?” Veronica laughed. “Just imagine, all of us? DRUNK? That sets up for disaster already.” Her attention was taken off of Sawyer when her phone began to ring again. She almost answered, before looking at the caller ID. She stared at it for a bit, before a pillow was flung at her.

“Veronica? Are you even listening to me?”

“No, sorry. Kenny was calling-” She looked back at Sawyer who sat with a blank expression. “Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t even answer.”

“But did you want to?” Sawyer crossed her arms. “Maybe...I just haven’t talked to him since the show, it’s killing me.”

Sawyer bit back her words, as her friend’s facial expression read it was affecting her. “And I know you guys aren’t fond of each other, but I supported you and Wardlow.” she stopped as she let out a breath, “He’s different Sawyer.”

“Wardlow and I are back together.” She blurted, but quickly covered her mouth as Veronica’s neck snapped. “YOU GUYS ARE WHAT?” she yelped. Sawyer secretly thanked herself for blabbing, to avoid another argument. “Shush! It’s not that big of a deal,” she laughed. “We just didn’t want to tell anyone yet.” Veronica nodded understandingly, “So, now I’m just ‘someone’? That’s cool.”

“Oh no , I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m kidding, I’m not one to talk about keeping secrets. I’m happy for you.” She smiled, as the door flew open. “Your favorite party people are here!” Marq exclaimed as Isiah followed in after with BOTTLES of alcohol. A couple seconds later a panting Nova stood in the doorway. “You guys saw me struggling. WHY DID YOU NOT HELP ME?!” She dropped the bags and flopped on the couch.

“I was holding my children.” Kassidy gasped as he raised his beverage in the air. “That was payback for flicking my arm,” Marq moved next to her and placed his hand on her knee. “But how about I make it up to you?” he sent her a wink as Veronica and Sawyer hid back their laughs.

“THAT'S MY BOY!” Kassidy yelped as he poured his first shot. Nova groaned in response, getting up from her seat and popping a cork on a wine bottle, “It’s going to be a long night.”

The Next Morning

A loud siren blasted through the room, Veronica shifted around in her sleep noticing her bed has been replaced with something way more uncomfortable. A snore caused her to jump, instantly regretting it as the effects of last night began to hit. She felt around, finding she was passed out in a bathtub. Veronica’s face flashed with confusion and was about to call out until she saw a slumped Isiah Kassidy on the toilet. “Zay?” she squinted as he began to stir. “Wake up!” she grabbed the nearest thing next to her, a bar of soap, and flung it at him. “AGH-” He shouted, waking up from his slumber. “What the hell…WHERE ARE MY PANTS?” he looked down in fear until a grin popped up. “Are you… fully clothed?” he peeked in the tub and sighed as, unlike him, was still in her nightclothes. “Damn, I thought I got some.” he snapped his fingers in disbelief. “How are you thinking of sex right now?

“Because I could have pounded that ass, but you wanted to be loyal, and have no fun. Mama ain’t raise no snitch.” He raised his hands in defense, “Plus this is normal. I party every night, and all night. Is this your first time drinking?” He asked in a mocking tone. He held his hand out to help lift her, accepting that she groaned as the room started spinning. Her arm rested around him, as he made her way to her bed. “Did you want me to grab your phone, I’m pretty sure I saw it somewhere in the living room-”

“NO.” she yelled startling them, “It’s fine where it is.” The events of last night began to become less of a blur. Multiple shots, loud ass music, and even more calling and texts from Kenny. At one point, she couldn’t take it anymore and used her phone as target practice as she lunged it anywhere she could. They reached the room and saw Nova spread out on both beds that had been pushed together, and Sawyer hanging upside down on the armchair. “Ah that’s right, Marq did a 450 splash off the dresser. It’s all coming back now.” They both nodded and exited the room. “Here, you sit here, I'll get you something.” He searched through the cabinets, sighing when nothing was found. Sawyer soon stumbled in and found her way next to Veronica on the couch. “I am never drinking with them again.” She leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. “They’re too advanced for us.”

“We’re on a different level.” A voice boasted behind the couch making the two jump. “MARQ? WHY ARE YOU BEHIND THE COUCH?” Sawyer shrieked. He shrugged as he began to rub his head. “So, you guys have absolutely nothing- AHH MARQ?!” Isiah threw the cup of water and held his chest. “You damn near killed me.” he breathed out. Sawyer groaned, “You just spilled water on our floor!”

“Could you guys be any louder-” Nova started, but wasn’t able to finish as she glided down the hall. Isiah raised his hand to his mouth to stop the laughter from slipping out. “Please tell me this is water…”

“This Ain’t Water.” They said in unison, before bursting out in laughter. Veronica went to gather her friend, after for a fact, reassuring her it actually was just water. “As I was saying, before Marq scared some of the skin color off of me, you guys don’t own shit. If y'all planned to get wasted you should have packed some aspirins.” He suggested, earning an ear thump from Sawyer. “We didn’t plan to end up like this. You guys got us drunk.” Marq nodded, “She’s not wrong.”

“Is there anyone that could go pick something up?” Nova suggested, before feeling more effects as she rushed to the nearest bathroom. “I’m sure Kenny could-”

“Nope, I got Trent and Chuck on the way. We don’t need anyone else.” Sawyer blurted out, quickly sending a text to the Best Friends. Veronica's lips straightened, as she slowly backed out of the living room, and into the kitchen. A sigh escaped her lips, as she realized having to explain to her boyfriend why she had been so distant wasn’t going to be anything she was looking forward to.

The door opened, and Trent and Chuck both rushed to Sawyer’s side. “We came as soon as we could, I hope you like sushi.” They shoved the bag of food onto her lap, before taking out their drug store bag filled with a couple of pills. “Oh, you didn’t have to bring us food-”

“Speak for yourself,” Kassidy and Quen snatched the box out of her grasp, and began to pick at it. She threw her hands up in annoyance before Chuck placed his hand on her forehead. “Have you thrown up yet?” He questioned. “Not yet,” she answered, as she stared at him carefully. “Oh you will.” he sent her a smile, and for a moment she felt warmth until he stopped.

“Hey are the guys here with the aspirins…oh hey.” She stopped herself, as she made contact with them. “I’m Veronica, it’s nice to finally be able to meet you.” Slowly walking over, she reached for the bag from Chuck who pulled his hand back.

“So, you’re the famous Veronica Rodriguez....” Trent started, “I got to say Kenny chose well.” Chuck smirked, as Trent walked up to her. “I guess you’re too far up his ass, to realize you’re in for a load of trouble though.” She was taken aback until Trent began again. “I don’t see you around backstage a lot, Sawyer claims it’s because you’re always hanging out with the EVP’s. I bet if you suck them off hard enough, you could get lucky and get a title shot.”

Her fist clenched, but they held each other's stare until a cough from Kassidy broke them up. “Well, this is getting exciting. We got a bed in the back if ya’ll want to settle your differences there.” Sawyer face-planted herself, before grabbing the bag from Chuck and walking to the kitchen. Trent shortly followed shoulder bumping her, and letting out a small laugh. “It was nice meeting you.” Chuck spat at her, before making his way where his other friends were.

Veronica sat next to Private Party with an unfazed expression, “Of course they would hate me.” She thought of the multiple times Sawyer had run to them in the past couple of weeks, ever since she got with Kenny. Marq offered her the container of food, where she sunk into the couch and began to pick at the bits that were left.

“I’m going to head out for a little bit,” Veronica said, handing the food back. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Isiah questioned. “No, it’s not - but it’s not like I’ll find anything here that will help me.” She grabbed her sweatshirt and made her way to the door. “Have Nova help you guys clean this mess up, I’ll be back soon.” With a sigh, she closed the door and didn’t know where she would end up.

Sawyer slid down the patio door with a groan. “I bet you learned your lesson.” James, better known as Orange Cassidy, laughed over the phone. He had called Chuck wanting to get a daily update on the situation. “Hang up on him, or I’m going to toss your phone off the balcony.” Sawyer threatened making Chuck hold his phone to his chest. “Alright man, I got to go.” They said their goodbyes when Trent opened the sliding door. “Here’s your aspirin, and a bottle of water.” She took the items and took them almost immediately. Chuck let his eyes wander as he stared at her current state. Trent nudged him in the side causing him to snap back to reality. His eyes widened a bit as he smirked, and pointed in between them. Sawyer tossed the bottle to the side and closed her eyes. “You guys seemed heated in there,” She mentioned. “Towards V, was that necessary?” she laughed.

“Oh it was more than necessary,” Trent admitted. “She had the nerve to reach for the bag, after everything she’s done to you.” Sawyer held her tongue, knowing that it wasn’t all Veronica’s fault, they both were acting childish. “He’s right, she’s never looked in our direction either, her ego is only going to get worse around The Elite.” he took a seat next to her, relaxing his hand against hers. “I know you see it. I know you see her becoming something she’s not.” A calming silence rang through them. Sawyer thought over his words that seemed to hit her right in the face. Everything was starting to make sense.

At 9 in the morning, Veronica sat in the hotel lobby. Waving to some of the people that crossed by before beginning to hear her stomach growl. She looked for the nearest breakfast bar until she saw the people she was trying to avoid. Kenny sat at a table with The Young Bucks and seemed to be in a deep conversation, she slowly backed out and into the room next to her. It was mostly empty, except for a familiar guy in the corner… with a beer bottle and cowboy boots.

“We got to stop meeting like this,” she made her way over onto the stool next to him. He finished his glass, before taking a glance at her. “Rough night?” he asked. Veronica sighed before starting, “Is it that obvious?” she groaned. He put his glass down, looking her up and down, and bit the bottom of his lip. “Yea. You look terrible.” He lied. Hangman liked how the ‘Morning After’ look appeared on her, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Gee, thanks. I’ll make sure to let Private Party know.” His brows rose in surprise, “You drank with them? How are you still alive?” He cracked a smile at her dead expression. “How are you when you’re drunk? The daredevil type maybe?.” It was his turn to have a dead expression, as she laughed. “I’m the complete opposite actually, from what my friend’s told me… I can get handsy if I’m with someone. Other than that, I keep to myself in my small corner.” He raised his glass to her, and sipped it. “You’re drunk right now…aren’t you?” He let her look him over closely and started to feel himself get hot, “No, but I’m getting there.” Veronica took the glass from him, and drank the rest of it down. “You don’t need to be alone anymore, Page.” She placed an arm around him, “You’re safe with me now.”

“I'll hit you with this damn mop, if you don’t put her phone back!” Nova chased Kassidy around the living room, as he snapped another selfie of him. “Come on! Are you not curious at all to read one of these 400 text messages from Kenny?” He attempted to unlock her phone, before it was snatched out of his hand by Nova. “Hey!” he whined.

“Go get more paper towels.” She said while fully shutting the phone down, and onto the counter. “Ouu, so demanding. Kinky. I like that.” He flirted with Nova groaning. Marq came from the bathroom, and looked around. “Damn where did everybody go?” he scratched his head, as Kassidy made his way back into the living room. “Sawyer is on the patio, and I don’t know where Veronica went-” a knock interrupted them making his head perk up. “Must be her now.” Isiah went to the door, but let out a groan. “Ugh. It’s just Ricky.”

“Ricky?” Nova questioned as she made her way to the door. There he stood with a small bag, and a dumb found expression. “Oh I didn’t know you were here.” He looked between them with a hurt expression. “What? Oh no it’s not like tha-” Nova began to explain as Marq peeked his head out as well. “Why are you talking to my girl?” he squinted. Ricky’s eyes widened, as Nova slapped the back of his neck. “Go inside.” They stuck their tongue out, and closed the door leaving them alone.

“Just to be clear… there is nothing going on between you and them? Right?” Nova laughed, “Nah they just came over last night, and still haven’t left.” He let out a sigh of relief, before turning his full attention onto Nova. “Well, what did you need? I still gotta clean this place or they’ll destroy everything.”

“So you know our first date, when I told you I knew the artist from the bowling alley?” Nova nodded, remembering the date, “Yeah, have you told him I think he's talented, and about a possible merch design?” Ricky chuckled, “Yeah, about that…” He reached and grabbed the bag that he brought with him, pulling out a t- shirt, “I wanted to surprise you, since he knows what he’s doing, I got this designed for you.”

Nova grabbed it from his hands, her jaw dropped, “Oh my God…” “What’s wrong? Do you not like it?” Ricky asked, worried.

“I love it. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Nova gushed, admiring the pink design. “Well, the reason I did this is because I had to ask you something.” Ricky smiled, waiting for Nova to look at him. “Well, what is it?”

Ricky took a deep breath, “When I first laid my eyes on you, I was mesmerized. And after our first date, I knew you were someone special. And the dates and calls after just continued to prove my point.” Nova smiled, Ricky said a bunch of stuff like this before, but this time felt...different.

“You are the most amazing person I have ever met, and I know I gotta ask before I don’t get the chance,” He grabbed her hands, “Nova Jay, will you please be my girlfriend?” Nova smiled so big, “I’d thought you would never ask.”

Ricky pulled Nova in, and let his hands rest on her backside as they shared a kiss. He lightly pushed her onto the wall, without breaking contact and let her rub against him a bit. A groan almost escaped his lips until the door swung open.

“Nova, I accidentally clogged the toilet- OH MY GOD.” Marq screamed, causing them to jump. His hands covered his mouth, as he quickly shut the door. “What’s wrong with you? You seem like you just saw a ghost.” Kassidy said while he flipped through the channels on the TV. “I just walked in on Nova and Ricky doing mouth to mouth, I’ve never been more devastated in my life.” Kassidy dropped the remote, and let his eyes close. “He’s out there kissing OUR GIRL?”

“How could she do this to us?”

Sawyer then came into the room with Chuck and Trent, “Have you guys seen Nova?” She made her way to the door, but was pulled back by Marq. “Don’t go out there! It’s dangerous and could lead to serious trauma!” Isiah cried. Chuck and Trent looked at each other with odd expressions, “What? Let me look.” Sawyer took a peep through the peephole and started screaming as she saw Nova and Ricky making out. “FINALLY. GET IT NOVA!” She cheered, making sure they could hear on the other side. Marq whipped a fake tear from his cheek, before leaning against Kassidy for support. “At the start, we had three girls…now we only got one.” Isiah glanced at Sawyer, making her cringe. “Now is not the time.” she reminded herself, as she and Wardlow wanted to keep their relationship private.

Chuck tensed, as Kassidy put his arm around Sawyer. “Have I ever told you, you were my favorite?” He smiled, but was met with an elbow to the ribs. “Too late, I got my eye on someone already.” she said, as she shot a look at Chuck who began to blush. Trent began to speak up until the door opened, and a giggling Veronica walked in with a tipsy Hangman Adam Page.

“Did you guys see Ricky and Nova outside? I first thought it was some random dude, but when I got closer,” she leaned onto Hangman “I noticed his big forehead, and instantly knew it was him.” She laughed.

“Well if it isn’t Hangman Pussypants Page.” Isiah rolled his eyes, at the sight of Veronica against him. “Did you get her even more drunk than she already was?” he asked with concern. “SHE drank my glass of whiskey, I had nothing to do with it.” “So, you couldn’t have taken it from her?” Trent interrupted, making Veronica lunge at him. Hangman picked her up, and tossed her over his shoulders. “Calm down.” he ordered as he set her on the couch, Hangman sat next to her letting his arm rest against her thigh. “I don’t know what happened before I got here, but it ends now. Veronica and I are both going to sober up a bit, and we need pills. Do yall got any here?”

Sawyer shoved Chuck, making him groan, he handed the bag over and Trent rolled his eyes. Nova then came in with Ricky, and they starred at the group. “Well isn’t this something,” Ricky started. “I thought you guys we’re going to suffocate out there.” Sawyer jokes, as she went to hug her friends. “You have gotta tell me the details.” Sawyer mumbled to Nova who nodded. “How about we put on a movie to ignore the sound of my heart shattering?” Isiah mentioned as Nova groaned, “Get over it!” “NEVER.” He cried. “A movie is fine with me,” Ricky shrugged as he took a seat on one of the chairs. “First we should take a picture, it’s crazy to see all this talent in one room.” She chirped.

“All this talent… and Veronica.” Trent laughed, making Veronica turn her head to face him. “I’m going to hurt him,” she started to get up until Hangman grabbed her hand. She took a deep breath before giving his hand a squeeze. Nova smiled as they took the perfect photo and posted it onto her instagram. It was only then till Hangman released Veronica’s hand, and took her face in his hands and kissed her.

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Headstrong

Part Three

Summary: After moving past the locker room incident, Bucky and Haven continue on with training for an upcoming fight.  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC Word Count: 1895 Warnings: Angst; discussion of cancer, amputation, infidelity, drunk driving, car accident and related injuries.  A/N: Taglist is open, you can be added to the one for this fic or Buckvember simply by sending an ask. Happy Reading!

Series Masterlist

Right after dinner, Haven put on a touch of makeup, smoothed out her shorts and t-shirt, and slipped into a pair of sneakers before telling Wes she was going out for a little bit. 

When she entered the bar, she looked around for Bucky; he raised his right arm to get her attention at a booth toward the back of the place. She waved an acknowledgement, stopping at the counter to order a drink for herself before she joined him. 

“Thanks for meeting me,” she started, sliding into the booth. “After this morning … honestly, I wanted to forget everything about it, but Wes said it’s probably best not to ignore it and let tension build up.”

Bucky nodded. “Sure, I can understand that. I hope you know, Haven, it was truly an honest mistake. I wasn’t paying attention, I’ve never been there before. It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” she replied, smiling softly. “I know it was a mistake — I was never worried about that. I wasn’t exactly gracious in my reaction, but you caught me off guard. I apologize for that.”

“No apology necessary.”

Her drink arrived. She thanked the waitress and took a few sips before continuing. “And I want to apologize for the way I declined your lunch invitation. We’re going to be working together closely and often, but I thought if I kept things more professional than I did with my last coach … it’s a self-preservation thing, I guess. I let things go too far with him, let it become personal. Too personal, and it almost cost me my career.”

Bucky assured her that he could understand. “Boxing was the most important thing to me, and it was taken away. Turns out, it takes two flesh arms to stay in the ring. I got lost for a while, hid away — I’m sure you heard about that. I’m pushing myself, taking this job and getting back into the business in any form. What I’m trying to say, Haven, is that we don’t have be best friends or anything, but, besides all the work together we’ll be doing, we’ve got some things in common. There’s going to be a personal note to our relationship, but even that doesn’t have to cross professional lines.”

“Thank you,” Haven told him quietly. The tension in her shoulders released and she continued to sip at her drink. She wanted to tell him more, but the words wouldn’t come. Something she was doing was giving her away because a few seconds later, Bucky’s warm fingers covered hers. 

“When you’re ready to talk about the rest of it, we can. There’s no rush.”

Haven pulled her hand out from under his. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They finished off those drinks, and Haven paid the tab for both of them. They bid each other goodbye with a wave in the lot and went their separate ways. 

For a couple of weeks, they kept things what Bucky called casually professional. They didn’t see each other outside of the gym again, he was extra careful about which locker room he went into at the end of each session, and he didn’t push her for any personal information. He didn't offer any, either. 

Haven was getting stronger and more ready for a fight by the day. They hadn’t been training together long, but Bucky could see she was chomping at the bit to compete. Her punches were coming harder and faster when he called out combos, their sparring sessions were becoming more intense. 

“There’s a fight in Los Angeles at the end of the month,” Bucky informed the siblings one afternoon after he and Haven had showered, and Wes was able to join them in the gym. “I think Haven can be ready by then. The other fighter on the card, Helen Cho, is also a newer pro and, from my research, I think she and Haven will be a good match.”

“You really think I’ll be ready?”

Bucky nodded with enthusiasm. “Without a doubt. Honestly, I’d put you in the ring against this girl today, if we had to. You’re a natural boxer and your lighter training while you recovered probably helped you to stay on track. What do you think?”

Haven looked at Wes, who nodded. “All right. I’m in.”

“Great,” Bucky smiled. “We’ll get you on the card and start training harder over the next couple of weeks. I want to be in Los Angeles a few days before the fight to do some training in their weather, get your body adapted to it.”

The next task was to contact the right people, find a flight and a hotel, and work out a temporary training schedule. They talked about nutrition, too; all of them wanted Haven in top fighting condition so her first pro fight could be a win. 

While Bucky put the finishing touches on the training schedule, Haven and Wes quietly argued about something by the door. Wes finally won out after a few minutes, it seemed, and left the gym. Haven huffed, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. Bucky wouldn’t have been surprised if she stomped her foot for effect. 

“Coach, do you have some time to talk before you leave,” Haven asked, blurting it out as a statement and not a question. 

Bucky nodded and motioned for her to join him in the ring. They both sat on the edge of the ring, their legs hanging over. Haven leaned forward on the ropes. Bucky kicked his legs with his hands in his lap, patiently waiting for whatever it was she had to say. When two minutes passed and she hadn’t said anything, Bucky decided maybe it would be easier for her to open up to him if he opened up to her first. 

“Right after I won my last title, I couldn’t shake the pain in my left arm,” Bucky began. “I did three more fights and it just got worse every time. Finally let my trainer convince me to get it checked out. Doc did x-rays and found a mass on my humerus.”

Haven frowned. “Cancer?”

“Cancer,” Bucky echoed. “It could have been removed and maybe beat with chemo, but I let it go on too long. I didn't want to hear that whatever was happening would end my career, but it did anyway. They had to take the arm, or it would have taken my life.”

“I’m so sorry, Buck.”

He smiled, both in gratitude for her empathy and because she hadn’t called him Coach. “The upside, I guess, is that being a prize fighter puts you in line for cutting-edge technology like this.” He flexed his prosthetic arm and a light whizzing came from inside the thing. “I can’t fight but I can function. And I’m alive.”

She sniffled, and Bucky could see that her eyes had glazed over. “Do you ever get angry that you can’t compete anymore?”

“Sometimes,” he confessed. 

She leaned back on both arms. “I was so angry when I thought my career would be over. Punched a hole in the wall in my bedroom one day because I got so angry.” She looked up to the ceiling, so Bucky kept his eyes on his hands in his lap. “Brock Rumlow was my coach from the very beginning. I was training at this gym in town, straight out of high school, not even sure if I wanted to do this for real, and he was new to coaching. He told me I had potential, so my dad and Wes went all in. They built this gym, and the three of them got me into the amateur league. Brock was a good coach, until he wasn’t. A few years ago, we started dating. It was always there, somewhat, I guess, despite the age difference, but we decided to make a real go of it.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line. He fought Brock Rumlow when they both were amateur fighters and knew about Brock’s reputation, but this wasn’t the time to comment on that — especially when he didn't know how much Haven was aware of. 

“Besides coaching me, Brock had a management agency that he owned. It went under, and Brock lost his mind. He was drinking all the time, sleeping around. I was so concentrated on getting my pro bid, I ignored all of it.

“We were coming home from a party one night though, and Brock had been drinking. We were arguing about the cheating — I’d had enough, I guess, and I wasn’t exactly sober. The argument really escalated and Brock lost control of the car.” She drew in a deep breath, staring ahead as though the images were playing in front of her. “The car rolled a few times, crashed against a light pole. How we managed to keep that out of the news, I’ll never know.”

Bucky scooted closer, covering one of her hands with his metal hand; she didn’t even wince or pull away. “How extensive were your injuries?”

“Ironically, I broke my left arm right about where you said your cancer was at. I’ve got a rod and a plate supporting it now. Bruised kidney, shattered spleen.”

“You’re lucky that’s all you made it out with.”

Haven paused, then nodded. “Yeah. I am. Anyway, after that, I told myself that I would keep boxing and my personal life separate. I wouldn’t ever again make the mistake that I made with Rum with anyone else.” She turned to look at him. “This fight, this championship you think I have a shot at — all of that means the world to me. I want to come back strong. I don’t want to be the girl who almost lost her shot because she dated her coach and it came back to bite her in the ass.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, shaking a finger at her, “as your coach, it’s my job not to let anyone bite you in the ass.”

She laughed, and Bucky found that he quite liked the sound. “Well, thanks, I appreciate it. I mean, I think I’ve got a pretty nice ass and bite marks would just ruin the image.”

“I’ve seen it,” Bucky reminded her, “and — not to overstep — but bite marks or not, Haven, you do, in fact, have a nice ass.”

That made her laugh even harder and painted her cheeks with a blush he hadn’t seen since the day of his interview. She swatted at him playfully, but Bucky dodged out of the way, slipping out of the ring with Haven not far behind him. 

He waited with her while she shut down the lights in the gym and locked up the building. She walked with him to the front of the house where he was parked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Starting to get chilly at night,” Bucky commented. 

“Yeah, it is.”

Bucky fished his keys from his pocket, wanting for some reason to linger in their goodbye. “Running tomorrow morning?”

Haven gave him a thumb’s up. “Bright and early.”

“I’ll see you then. G’night, Haven.”

“Night, Bucky.”

She had skipped the ‘Coach’ bit again; Bucky wondered if she even realized she had done that. He got into his car and pulled out of the driveway, waving goodbye one more time to Haven before turning his eyes to the road. 

Headstrong: @disastersoldierbucky @ashleymalfoy @amanda-teaches @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @tanelle83 @tellmewhatyouwill @capandbuckylvr @pinknerdpanda @ntlmundy @siggy85 @itsallyscorner @m-blasterrr @just-the-hiddles​

Buckvember: @peace-love-hobbitness​ @disastersoldierbucky​ @connie326​ @rebekahdawkins​ @wonder-cole​ @shynara51​

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 28)

Disclaimer! Mentions of abuse will occur in this part, a flashback from Mila’s past.

With accustomed fingers, Mila tightens the laces in the well-used, dirty running shoes. First the right one, then the left one. Like a ritual, she simultaneously extends first the right side of her neck, then the left. Her eyes flicker between a cluster of bruises on her knee and the man standing with his back against her, looking out of the window of the old, worn dressing room. The warm coat is free from dust grains and hairs. The dark hair is perfectly combed over his scalp and the scarf that protrudes behind the coat collar is dark navy blue. A poster boy for the state, or rather a man, but also her father, state official Sergey Volkov Yuroshenko. With his tall body and proud attitude, he could just as easily have been the president of Russia himself.

“What a day.” Papa exclaims. “Beautiful. Just perfect.”

Had it not been her father standing there, Mila would have thought that the man at the window was blind. Outside the window it’s completely gray and gloomy. As far from a hot, sunny summer day it could possibly be. 

Probably an old Soviet-era habit. All fathers who mentally remain in the Soviet universe  probably think the same thing; the grayer the better. If it’s not summer and hot as hell and they happen to be parked at the Dacha, drinking vodka. The greater the contrasts the better.

The fog was dense over the landscape while the car drove over almost deserted roads. Mama and Papa in the front seat and Mila in the back seat, half lying, sleeping. She has been driven out of town, to a large sports facility with an athletics track, and a 3.7 mile forest track for cross-country running. Three weeks earlier it was announced on the school’s bulletin board that Mila had been selected to compete in the Moscow district’s cross-country race. Baffled, she stood there feeling anything but happy, while her two friends Vera and Nataliya happily bounced up and down next to her by the big board, overjoyed to be picked to participate in the same competition, but the one for girls. 

“We’ll come and watch, of course!” Vera comforted Mila, as the three girls went to the next lesson.

“Absolutely!” Nataliya agreed.

Mila glances at the window, past Papa and wonders if her two squires are out there somewhere, shivering and waiting for the race to start. 

“I have a feeling that you’ll win. I know you will.”

Mila yawns, doing her best to hide it. To avoid questions and admonitions to go to bed earlier, or to hear that she is a sleepyhead. Is it not enough to go to bed at eight the day before a competition, when all your friends are allowed to be awake until ten?

“Mhm.” 

“You'll make a lasting impression.”

“Maybe because it’s a race for boys.” Mila sighs, lets down her legs and rests her dirty running shoes on the floor, finally saying something from her heart. “Haven’t you noticed we’re all alone in here, Papa? I am the only girl here.” She holds out her arms, as to point out the obvious. “I wanted to be in a race for girls, with other girls. This is-” 

Papa fends off Mila’s proclamation, waving it away with his hand.

“Girls are weak.” 

“I am a girl.”

“Don’t remind me.” 

Mila’s gaze drops. The statement is short, but says it all. No, she shouldn’t remind him. It only makes him upset. 

“This is a great day, for our family.” The voice is hopeful, or rather, full of anticipation. It makes Mila feel a bit unwell, sick. “The whole Moscow district. Many important people are sitting out there watching. A great day, indeed. Lucky us, being here early, so we got seats in the stands. Kirilov and his wife weren't that lucky.” He chuckles. “He works at the office, on the floor below.” The elucidation that the colleague’s tiny, cubic workspace is below his own, real office, with solid walls, seems to cheer him up a bit. “What was the son’s name? Well, Doesn’t matter.” He continues. “They are losers, all of them.” Papa glances at her. “They don’t have what it takes. No. This requires stamina. Discipline.” 

He proudly straightens his back while looking out the window, at the stadium and the forest. Mila feels how the knot in her stomach grows to the size of a cabbage head; knows what’s expected of her. She always knows. Only first place is good enough, especially now, at the district championship. As if he could read her mind, Papa turns to her, with his arms clasped behind his back like an officer inspecting his cadets. The only difference is that it’s not a poor cadet he stares down, but his fourteen-year-old daughter, who will run 3.7 miles, and is expected to do it faster and better than teenagers who are both one and two years older than her. Just because Papa forced her to be better, faster, than her peers, than anyone else. 

“Second best is not enough.” he preaches and walks up to her. “Only the weak are satisfied. You, Milaya, are not weak. You will win. A second place would be trivial.” 

“Like being a damn clerk.” Mila mutters.

It takes a millisecond for her to regret saying it out loud, or barely audible, but Papa has the hearing of a fox. The dark eyes turn almost black and the big hand firmly sweeps through the air before Mila has time to react and duck. It hits the spot where it was intended and Mila falls off the bench and lands on the cold tile floor. With a throbbing head, she feels the large hands close around her neck and prevent air from entering or leaving her trachea as Papa squats over her.

“Don’t talk to me that way, devochka.” he hisses between clenched teeth, while Mila struggles to make him ease the grip around her neck. She clings to the steady, strong wrists and kicks with her legs, but there’s no use. He’s strong and frankly, pissed off. The facade has crackled, as it sometimes does, and anger is directed at her, as always. Maybe because it is always Mila who is the root of the anger, the sadness, the disappointment. One thing is certain, she will not be able to complete the race if he does not let go, soon. “Was that supposed to be funny? Ungrateful-” he breathes through his nose, whereupon he forces a faint smile to appear on his lips, which is anything but happy. He releases the grip and rises. “Do not disappoint me, Milaya. Do.. not..-”

And he leaves the sterile, chill dressing room. The door slams shut and Mila is left alone on the floor. Her heart is racing in her chest and stars dance in front of her eyes. No, she can’t faint now. Instead she coughs, grasps for air. Her chest feels like she’s just been close to drowning. The pain is aching. Angry tears want to escape her eyes, but Mila passes them back into the tear ducts. It could have been worse, she thinks. It could have been much worse. Mila repeats the mantra over and over inside her head as she coughs, and sits up. Bite the bullet, Mila. 

She’s gonna show him. She’s going to show them all. Papa should at least have a reason to- 

On trembling knees Mila rises, leaning against the bench and stumbles over to the dirty mirror on the wall. She looks past the scribbled “Galina loves Pavel” in red marker pencil and meets her own face staring back at her. A pale face with big blue eyes. The long hair is set in a ponytail and the fringe is a bit tangled, due to the fact that the hairdresser sneezed just as she made the cut, one week earlier. The head is set on a long neck, attached to a pair of sharp shoulders. On the side of Mila’s pale face the bruise is already starting to take shape and the lower lip is cracked at the side. Her neck is completely red.

“Zdorovo...” Mila sighs, touches the cracked lip slightly, to get the blood away. “Prosto zdorovo. Just great.”

Bozhe moy, he really did a winner on that hit. At least he didn’t aim for her legs. Smart move, Mila thinks as she adjusts her jaw a little, making the lip sting slightly. Then she wouldn’t have been able to run. 

Swearing, Mila staggers into the small toilet, a sad look; she turns on the tap, which of course only has cold water to offer her, splashes it on her face and shivers throughout the body. She blinks the water out of her eyes and looks out the open door, through the window in the other room, out at the gray weather. Spring sure takes its time this year. It’s freezing outside. Mila looks down at her poor, scrawny, bare legs in the red shorts. At least it’s not the river Volga in the middle of the winter. Positive thoughts. 

At the same time, the angry signal bounces over the area, finds its way into the changing room and announces that the race is about to start within ten minutes. Papa has given his ‘pep talk’ and has probably sat down next to Mama at this point in the stands, probably drinking Mama’s homemade hot Sbiten and eating sandwiches. Well, now it’s Mila’s time to do her part. It’s showtime. 

She leaves the shabby dressing room and steers her steps towards the edge of the forest, prepared to win a marathon. She has to. Taglist:  @lonewolf471

[yugyeomshadow]

✨50 Questions✨

thanks for tagging me @goodboy-taetae 😊 im sorry that im only doing this now

What colours is your hairbrush? black and pink

What food would you never eat? everything that has broccoli, i hate it or peppers

Are you usually hot or cold? my body is always hot but my hands tend to be cold, except when it's very hot outside

What did you do 45 minutes ago? i guess i was having lunch while watching a cartoon movie

Favorite chocolate? milk chocolate with strawberry yoghurt, i can eat a bunch but my allergies attack me

Have you ever been to a professional sports event? not that i remember

What is the last thing you said out loud? bro that was my hand (i was playing with my dog and he bite my hand instead of biting his toy but im used to it)

Favorite Ice cream flavor? Pineapple its sooooooo good, now i want it

What was the last thing you drank? coffee with milk btw still drinking it

What kind of wallet do you have? medium size wallet, black and white with a golden piece on front (it was one of my fav gifts from my grandma)

What was the last thing you ate? roasted pork loin with fries 💞

Did you buy clothes last weekend? girl no hdksjdk

What was the last sports event you saw? professional snooker championship with my dad

Favorite snacks? honestly i cant remember the name of it but i like the salty ones, any type

Who was the last person you texted? my best friend

Do you like camping? i LOVE camping! i used to go camping every year with my family but lately we couldn't do it because everyone is working but i hope i can camp sooner, it relaxes me so much

Do you eat vitamins? no only did it once

When was the last time you travelled? probably four years ago but i didnt leave my country, i just went to my mother's town and it was gorgeous

Do you like sunbathing? hell yees, i love it. i feel like im too pale now

Asian or Italian food? asian food for sure

Do you drink soda? i drink it but not as often as i used to

What color of socks are you wearing right now? pink with white stripes

When was the last time you were speeding? on my last driving class, i got a heavy foot

What are you afraid of? spiders, i cant see one of those bitches without screaming and running away (childhood traumas are fucked up)

What can you see if you turn left? my white wall with blue stripes

What kind of housework you like the least? drying dishes, it annoys me

What is the first thing you think when you hear someone talking in a language you don't know? ok so my dad sometimes speaks in south African and i always wonder like is he talking shit about someone? hdkagdkaha but with strangers i don't really care

Do you sleep on your back or side? usually side but now its mostly with my belly down, its easier for me to fall asleep

You crave fast food, where do you go? well now with all this, i just go to the supermarket and buy a punch of pizzas

What is your lucky number? 13

Who was the last person you talked to? my mother to ask her where was the coffee

Do you eat meat? yes

What was the last song you listened? Nobody Knows by GOT7💕

Last book? Kafka by the shore by Haruki Murakami

What is your favorite day of the week? sundays

do you know the alphabet song backwards? ohh no dhkshd i always fail on that

Favorite coffee/tea? coffee

Favorite shoes? my light blue Nike air force 1

When do you usually go to sleep? now its like between 3/4am

When do you usually wake up? at 1/2pm, yes i am a sleepy bitch

Sunrise or sunset? sunset

Do you like your bed soft or hard? soft but i can sleep anywhere anytime so it doesn't really bothers me

Describe the plate you are eating from? a small white plate with blue rose patterns on the sides

Your favorite type of alcohol? i can't decide between whiskey and rum so both

Do you like board games? yes, i have like three or so dhakbdk i love seeing the chaos it brings between my family because most of us are big cheaters at games

If you had a car, what kind would it be? probably a old car since it would be my first car ever

Do you know how to change car tires? yes, i usually help my dad when he's fixing his cars

Dream country? Japan, i absolutely love it and i wish i could live there

If you could choose from any jobs in the world what would you like to do? be an artist or a pet hotel owner, thats my dream

What would you like to try to do? And what is stopping you? I'd like to dye my hair pink but i have to go buy more of it shsksh

tagging @thespadesinyourhearts @taevisual @i-jinlaugh-at-u-peasants @seokjinsslutdrop @sunshineggukie @joonsjeon @igotanna @the-bangtan-boys

[runephoenix6769]

Winter Solstice.

NaNoWriMo 

Chaps 1 - 4 here

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500653/chapters/38646758

PART 3 B

Accosting a beverage from the laden tray carried by a passing waiter, Winter sulkily cast her eyes round the room.  Most of the crowd gathered here today were a mainly from Atlas, made apparent by the deep colours and militaristic style clothing that had come in fashion of late. The majority of the boys haircuts leaned heavily towards the army, short sides but long mops on top coiffured in oils to hold the quiffs in place, the women and girls much like her own, pinned up, but in different variations, the odd accent here of jewellery to signify a little individual flair. Some had far more jewels than others, indicating their wealth and status.  But there were other people here from the outlying parts of Vale and Mistral, their styles a little more relaxed and not quite as formal.

Winter spotted the flash of a golden head dress atop deep red hair, Cassandra Nikos, beside her stood her parents who were animatedly chatting to another set of proud parents. Behind the tall athletic teenager a smaller girl who looked about Weiss’ age, peered out, agog at all the different sorts of weapons that passed her at eye level.

The Niko’s hailed from Argus and often from time to time they would cross paths in the same social circuits. She vaguely remembered her father scoffing at how they were barely just passable to associate with.  

To left of them, Winter spied Khenet with his coach, their brightly coloured and loose fitting outfits looking out of place amongst the stiff suits, form fitted uniforms and tailored dresses of Atlas fashion.  Her father wanted her to think like the future head of the SDC, then she would damn well show him just how erudite she could be. Swamping her juice, she deftly plucked another on as a waiter passed before making a beeline for him, calling out,

“Khenet!”  

Winter caught the ever so slight swivel of his tawny ears towards her before he turned. He seemed almost surprised at being addressed, his ears flickering and twitching.

“Schnee?”

As she drew closer, she continued,

“I wanted to say congratulations on a good match.”  

Arriving, she smiled up at him, holding out her hand for him to take. His eyes flickered to his coach who nodded at him.  He took it. She pulled him in close air kissing his cheeks. Somewhere a flash fizzled and popped.  In his ear, she muttered,

“Why did you call me a murderer?”

Slightly taller, he blinked down at her in genuine surprise,

“I didn’t!”

“But I heard you, just before the match.”

He let go of her hand, his ears flattening and a flicker of disgust on his face,

“Do you think so lowly of my people that you think I would cheat?”

“Well what did you say to me then?”

“I said, Mathereuter,”

Baffled, Winter scrunched her face. Khenet smirked at her,

“You’re clueless? …. I thought all you rich Atleasian people learned foreign languages?”

Winter continued to stare at him blankly. He gave a chuckle,

“It means good luck in Menagease!”

“Oh….” Ducking her head in embarrassment, Winter wiped in slight frustration at a crease in her tracksuit top, “.. Sorry..” After a beat, afraid he was somehow trying to humiliate her, she asked with suspicion, “I thought you were from Vacuo?”

“I am!” The boy smiled, “But I was born in Menagerie, it’s where my mother is from. My father, he’s a Bedouin merchant from Vacuo.”  Khenet’s golden eyes, tightened at the corners, “What’s the real reason why you came over?  Wont your father freak out about you grubbing down with the help?”

The young teenager glanced over the gathering, her father, his white hair and suit bright like a beacon surrounded by the darker colours. By his body language alone Winter could tell he was no doubt in his element, holding court like some aristocrat of old. Bestowing seeds of wisdom upon the peasants who he deemed ought to be crushed under foot to remind them of their place. Furious at the insinuation that she was anything like him, she snapped,

“I am not my father!”

“But you *are* a Schnee?”

See the field in which I plant the fucks I give and thou shalt see that it is barren, she thought darkly.

“I’m more than just a name!”

“Oh really? And how is that?”

Khenet’s coach let out a loud burp as he hovered closeby. Winter gave a disgusted sniff. With a haughty tip of her head, she looked the Vacuoan boy in the eye,

“I came over here to congratulate you on a good match. As I doubt,” She gave a toss of her head, “ We shall see each other again on the circuit.”

“Yeah?” He snipped back, “Why is that?”

Winter set her shoulders, proudly announcing,

“I am putting away childish things and progressing to the sabre.”

Khenet snorted, causing Winter’s eyes to narrow.

“You?” He guffawed, “You’re progressing to the sabre? You know what that entails, right?”

“I do!”

“You think you have what it takes?” The faunus boy gave her a condensing look up and down. Winter bristled under the appraisal. “It takes… Creativity … A flair for the dramatic..”

“I can be creative!” Winter replied, indignantly.

Khenet laughed out right,

“You?  Be creative? You have to be one of the most predictable people I have ever competed against.”

“Well, I still beat you!”

“Like I said,” He lazily drawled, “You got lucky!”

A small round of applause rang out as the Winners of the Senior bout were announced and the three victors stepped up onto the stage. A round of camera’s flashing as a young man in the tell-tale dazzling white of an Atlas Military uniform raised the trophy shield over his head. Khenet quite unfazed, continued,

“You can have your sabre. I’m just got accepted into a pre academy and then after than I’m going to apply to one of the big three!”

She retorted,

“You’re going to train to become a Huntsman? What are you going to do, poke a Grimm to death with that knitting needle you call a sword?”

The boy’s eyes flashed with anger,

“Yeah, well when you have one and a ¾  light clones you don’t have to worry about anything else.” He bragged, “My father can do four and he says if I work hard I should be able to do five. What can you do?”

Caught unawares, Winter found herself at a loss for words. Khenet’s ears pricked up as he grinned at her in triumph,

“Exactly!”

Before she could come up with a biting retort, he shrugged himself off the wall stalking off into the crowd. Crossing her arms, Winter scowled at the infuriating boy’s back. A heavily accented voice piped up from beside her,

“You lost that one little Schnee.”

Khenet’s coach had tanned skin and weathered crows feet round the eyes. He smelt of perfume and his dark hair was long, licking against the back of the collar of his open, loose flowing shirt and open bright purple waistcoat, a bright orange sash tied round his lower middle, the silken cloth dangling down off his thigh to the knee. His pants looked baggy, bunching at the ankle and every time he moved his wrist gold bangles clacked off each other. He looked like he hadnt shaved, ever.  From here, Winter caught a whiff of the stale stench of alcohol on his breath, causing her nose to wrinkle. He belched again, not even going to far as to cover his mouth or apologise,

“He’s quite right you know…. It does take creativity and a flare for the dramatic. .. But it also takes guile and a level of intelligence that boy doesn’t possess.” The young teenager was taken aback by the frankness and lack of loyalty, Khenet’s coach showed. He wiped his whiskers with a weather beaten hand, “ –Though it does pay to have a good basis in the fundamentals, you still have to be fast and constantly moving, taking advantage of your terrain. It’s not like today, in some bouts you will be expected to use your semblance.” His piercing indigo eyes focused on the girl. “Do you think you can learn to do that?”

Winter swallowed.  

Did she?  

She was no stranger to hard work, every day she trained without fail, whether it be until her fingers bled on the strings of the cello, her body ached from gymnastics and fencing, or the stress headaches from trying to master her glyphs.

If she dropped the cello, she could focus more on building up her stamina or maybe coax her mother to begin teaching her summoning once more?

Standing tall, she addressed the sword instructor,

“I cant right now… But I ‘shall’ learn.”

From inside his thick whiskers, his teeth gleamed white,

“That’s what I like to hear.”

An official on the stage leaned in to the microphone,

“And finally, Remmant’ s 15 year and under Junior World Championship. Bronze. Cassandra Nikos. Silver Khenet Chausie and Gold, Winter Schnee!”

“Better get a long Princess,” The Vacuoan took a sip of his glass ignoring how the red liquid slightly dribbled into his beard, “Wouldn’t want to miss your crowning now, would you?”

Winter threw him a dark look before setting of towards the stage to collect her hard earned victory.

[aviationfiction]

XV

Autumn Dupont

“Step through please ma’am.”

I slowly brushed my trembling hands over the upper portion of my body, stopped midway, and gently patted the pockets of my form fitting denim shorts. With a deep breath, I walked through the body scanner and stood on the other side awaiting the bucket filled with my possessions to slide through the second scanner. The police officer standing just a couple inches away from myself stared in a knowing manner; they all do. He didn’t open his mouth to speak or say anything absurd but I’m assured in my assumptions about his thoughts and what he’s biting his tongue over. This famous city thrives on various attributes; South Beach being one of them, but the men who leave their blood, sweat, and tears on the court in the American Airlines Arena are the heart of it. People of all walks of life crowd into that building to experience the loose fun of the regular season, the electrifying playoffs, and if they’re lucky, the gut wrenching finals where either victorious confetti and golden trophies are handed out or tears and disappointment leave the entire building silenced until the next season. I’ve been amongst it all, often having professional cameras snapping away at me, or game goers unknowingly turning me into D-List Miami celebrity by asking for photographs. I’ve met the celebrities, I’ve been introduced to the executives, and I’ve sat amongst the wealthy all for the sake of supporting my husband and it has left it’s lasting affects not only on myself but just as much on the city. My husband’s no mayor or governor but I’ve been stupidly called “The First Lady of Miami” by women much older than myself although Gabrielle Union and Savannah James’ husbands have far more importance within this city than any coach, staffer, political figure, or musician. Well, Lebron is no longer here but the two championships he gave to this city hold their significance. As selfish as it may sound, I felt the affects of his decision to return home to Cleveland far more than anyone else in this city. My husband mourned the loss of his star player far more than he mourned the demise of our marriage.

“Here you are Mrs. Harrington.” We made eye contact when he boldly used my formal name and I swiftly grabbed the bold violet cross body bag out of his hand purposefully making sure skin to skin contact never happened.

“I have a mediation session. Can you direct me to where those take place?”

“You take the elevator to the second floor, make a left once you step out of the elevator, and walk down the hall. The office is at the end of the hall. You won’t miss it.”

“Thank you.”

The sound of my heels ceaselessly striking the mahogany marble flooring flooded my ears far more than the voices surrounded me and I allowed the leather chain strap of my bag to fall over my shoulders as I neared the elevator. As my finger tapped the button, a silent prayer was all that I could think of. I’d been standing alone and if God favors me, I’ll continue to stand alone as I’m enclosed inside of the confined space. A faint ding sounded off and I watched the heavy doors slowly open; bringing a crowd of six people into my line of view. As they filtered out, I quickly stepped inside and pressed the silver second floor button. The thrashing of my heart slowly began to ease itself as the doors began to close and within a second, my blessing was cut short.

“Whew! I’m glad I caught it. Excuse me.” As I stepped aside, the fair skinned woman tap the button for the third floor and tiredly leaned against the wall to catch her breath. As her chest heavily heaved in and out, she slightly turned her head to the side and her eyes panned down to my feet.

“Cute shoes girl.” Her eyes remained locked on the luminous yellow leather printed sandals and her body instinctively leaned forward so she’d be able to get a decent look at the tone-on-tone decorative bows and feathers; added on for a touch of extravagance and eccentricity.

“Love your top too.” She gazed over the lavender and white checkerboard patterned top and nodded her head to further make note of her approval. It’s deep v-neck framed the material off both of my shoulders and the exaggeratedly ruffled short sleeves fell over my arms. The cropped hem wrap around design showcased a hint of skin from my stomach and the bow I’d made with the loose ends rested perfectly on my side. I put effort into the look; the best style effort I’d put forth in quite some time. I prided myself on looking good for my husband; always wanting him to be proud to have me on his arm and to never need to turn his gaze to any other woman. While I wasn’t the typical kept woman who visited high end department stores many days out of the week, purchasing the latest and most expensive pieces from top of the line designers, I did make sure to go maybe two or three times a month to make sure I kept myself up to par. Despairingly, I felt like my closet full of garb was purposeful for game nights rather than date nights. The Agent Provocateur and La Perla pieces ultimately served as typical undergarments rather than sex driven flimsy pieces of material I so badly wanted Andreas to anxiously peel off of me. Today, I’d like for him to do a double take and realize I am the same woman he vowed his life to and inevitably destroyed. He was my Dre and I was his Bella, the woman whose picture he carried around in his wallet despite having a smartphone. I am the one. I was the one.

“Thanks.”

The double doors opened as soon as the elevator stopped and I bid the friendly woman a wave as I stepped outside of it. I glanced back and forth between both ends of the hall and made the left turn as instructed. The more I neared the fate of what was behind the door, the eager I was to turn around and continue to avoid this entire process. Courtesy of Issac, I’d been in communication with Sorrell Trope ever since Joanne’s ambush and he’s been handling the logistics of my divorce. He informed me that he represented Britney Spears, Nicole Kidman, Hugh Grant, Nicolas Cage and cheerily boasted about his most recently high profile case; representing Elin Nordegren in her divorce from Tiger Woods. He’d already submitted requests for disclosures and production of Andreas’ bank statements, statements of income, and numerous other documents I’d never seen throughout our six years of marriage. I can’t even began to tell you what the man is worth or what he owns besides our home, his mother’s home, and the two cars sitting in our garage. It never mattered. Frankly, it still doesn’t.

“Mrs. Harrington?” The stocky woman sitting behind the off black desk adjusted her thick glasses and checked off something on the paper sitting in front of her without ever confirming if her assumption was correct or not.

“Yes. I’m Autumn Harrington.”

“You’re all set up in the room over there. Your husband arrived about fifteen minutes ago. There’s paper and pens in the room if you should need them. This is a private mediation which means that there will be a charge per session where as a court ordered medication is of no cost. This mediation is confidential. Anything mentioned within the walls of that room can and will stay within the walls of that room unless you or your husband should decide otherwise. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Okay then. Also, the mediator is running a little late due to car trouble but she did say that she’ll be here within the next fifteen to twenty minutes; possibly sooner. I asked your husband if he would like to reschedule but he informed me that he’s okay with waiting. Will that be a problem for you?” Andreas and I, alone in a room together? The last time that happened I was sent home in tears.

“It’s fine. I can wait.”

“Okay then. Go ahead right in. She should be here soon.”

She turned around in her chair and lazily rolled over to the file cabinet to dismiss my presence and I proceeded in the direction she pointed in. As I opened the door, I immediately spotted Andreas standing at the opposite side of a wooden table and a window, which I’m sure I may consider jumping out of a ton of times before this first session is completed. His baby blue collared shirt was button down three bottoms from the top and in his usual fashion, he rolled up the sleeves until the cuffs were snug around his elbows.

I could barely stand to look him as he stood there, slightly shuffling, with his hands stuff down into the pockets of his khaki pants. His beautiful ocean blue eyes peered into mine and my heartbeat didn’t speed up in anticipation of his touch or a kiss, instead my stomach felt like it’d been dropped into a bottomless pit; free falling with my emotions tied to the tail end of it. To say I feel disparaged would be an understatement.  I used to be able to immediately feel the love between he and I as soon as either one of us entered a room and now there’s this eerie nothingness that radiates from his frame and harshly penetrates my reality. I will never understand how we ended up with this fate and there is nothing a mediator, lawyer, or even he can say to change that.

There are two seats left; the one facing Andreas and one placed at the head of the table which I’m sure is for the mediator. I have no choice but to sit across from him and allow the very eyes I fell in love with to scold me.

As I plotted down into the chair, I rested my hands on the table directly across from his own and our empty ring fingers turned into the focus of my attention. Rather than verbally greeting me, he gently ran his hand over my own and gave it a small squeeze. The gesture wasn’t one of comfort or sincerity, it was one of assurance; assurance that this is what he wants and needs from me.

“Hey Bella.”

Silence.

The ticking sound of the circular antique clock mounted on the wall was louder than any breathing or movement we made. As I glanced up at him, it became obvious he’d been waiting  for me to say something first and quite frankly, I’m speechless with rage.

“You’re waiting for me to speak? You’re divorcing me. You should be doing all of the talking here. Not I.”

“Please don’t start that. Let’s just keep this peaceful. I’m not here to fight with you. I don’t want to fight with you whatsoever. We’re two adults here. You and I can sit down and have a conversation without coming at one another’s throats. There’s no need for that.” He sat back in his seat and grimaced at the smug expression on my face.

“You have a lot of nerve telling me what there is no need for. You’re telling me that? The man with the new family?”

His jaw tightened. I used to love when that happened. I’d purposefully do or say something to anger him all for the sake of attention. His frustrations were the turn on that I often needed. Sometimes he’d take care of it; often times my index and middle fingers did the trick.

“We’re not here to talk about my unborn child or Amber. This is about us. Why are you taking this in a direction that has nothing to do with any of this?”

“But it has everything to do with this. Are you kidding me? We’re married. If you should walk out of this door today and something happens to you, do you know who’s responsible? It will not be your mother nor will it be that woman you’re involved with. It’ll be me. I know given the circumstances that happened to me nearly two years ago you may not understand that concept but that’s how it works. I am responsible for you until a judge signs those documents and dissolutes our marriage and vise versa. So for you to sit here as an engaged man with a wife, you must be out of your got damn mind if you believe that plays no part in why we’re sitting here today.”

“Yeah, well, you know what Autumn? This is a mediation. We’re not in marriage counseling. The mediator will be here to make sure we figure out what we want and what we don’t want so that we can move forward with the divorce. Luckily we have no children so there’s no need to discuss living arrangements, child support, nor custody. That makes this process far easier than it usually is.”

“Luckily?” On the ride here, I ran three different scenarios of how this session would go and I made mental notes, strategies, and promises to myself about how I’d handle all of them. In each, there was one rule: Do not cry. I’ve cried enough. I’d go to bed crying and I’d wake up with either tear stains on my face or tears rolling down my cheeks. I’d cry in the shower and stick my face into the water to manipulate myself into believing that it was nothing more than water droplets trickling down my face. I’d cry during physical therapy, personal therapy, breakfast, lunch, during my runs. Name any place, time, or location, and I’m sure as some point there were tears either threatening to fall or streaming down my face. It was a result of keeping everything bottled within. It was the only coping mechanism I had. As I slowly began to open up to Dr. Jill, the need to cry transitioned into a lot of thinking. The weekly assignments she’s been giving me helped tremendously and yet here I am, falling apart. My eyes began to burn as I tried my best to withhold them but gravity and my overdriven emotions defeated me.

“That’s not how I meant it, I…Autumn. Let’s not make one another upset.”

“How many times are going to say that? Should I expect that statement any and every time you say something that you know is either insulting or hurtful? I am not perfect but I didn’t do anything wrong to you Andreas. I don’t deserve to be spoken to that way nor do I deserve any insults that you may have for me. Think before you speak. First you dismissed your new life having anything to do with why we’re here today and now you’re feeling lucky because you and I never had children together though you know I wanted to have a child more than anything you could have ever given me. What’s next? You’re on a roll.”

“You know what, I apologize. I honestly didn’t mean it in the way you took it.”

“Yes you did.” I glanced over at the window, taking in what I could of the scenery and left him to drill a hole into the side of my neck with his eyes.

“Can we talk about the house?”

“What about it?

“Both of our names are on the deed to it and we agreed upon co-owning it from the very beginning. I don’t want to fight about it nor do I want to turn it into an ongoing back and forth. I am willing to give you the house. As of two years ago, the house is paid for in full. All you’d have to worry about are the properly taxes, the upkeep of the house, and any additional utility bills. You spent more time inside of that home than I did and you handled the interior and exterior design of every single aspect of the house. It's only right that it should be yours. ”

“You seriously believe I want that house? The house that you and another woman are currently living in and have created a child in? My God. You’re ignorant.” I shook my head as a chuckle slipped past my lips and he began to uneasily tap his fingers on the table.

“You don’t want the house?”

“No. I don’t want your house. I don’t even want to live in Miami.”

“Well what about the car? The car is yours. I can have it shipped up to New Jersey within a couple of days if you’d like.”

“I’m not interested. You have both sets of keys to that car so God knows who’s been driving it. No thank you.”

“Autumn, grow the hell up. It’s a freaking car. It gets you from point A to point B. Who gives a damn who’s been driving it? Do you think people sit back and ponder about who’s been driving a used car when they’re at a dealership purchasing them? The car’s in excellence condition. There’s no wear and tear on it. It’s yours. Take it.”

“I don’t want the car. That’s my final decision.” Andreas sat back in his seat, huffed obnoxiously, and glanced over at the same window I’d been staring out of while he offered me these pity gifts. There’s this arrogance slightly slithering through his tone. He believes offering me the house and car is an olive branch in the midst of all of this madness.

“You know what, let’s just cut straight to the point. Twelve million Autumn. We can settle this with our lawyers and get it done. I believe a twelve million dollar settlement is fair. You talked about wanting to return to school and with that, you’d have more than enough money to pay your tuition and live your life comfortably. I love you and I do want what’s best for you.”

Twelve million dollars. I’ve never sat back and attempted to figure out how much I’m worth numerically. How do you calculate those figures? Is it based upon intelligence? Physically capabilities? Liabilities? Were my duties as his wife worth two million dollars per year? How’d he even come up with that estimate? It sounds like such a bribe and a quick figure tossed at me to quickly get this over with but most of all, to get him down the aisle with his fiancee. It’s a payoff without any regard for what I feel or want. It’s a twelve million dollar “thank you for your services, now be gone” notice.

“You love me and you want what’s best for me? Do you really?”

“Yes, I do. Us parting ways doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped caring about you. I’m a human being and you’re the woman I’ve spent just about seven years of my life with. It didn’t work out but that doesn’t mean that everything that we’ve experienced together and gone through is erased from my mind. I do want to see you succeed and be happy despite what you may think about me right now.”

“You love me? Andreas, I’m so tired of you lying to my face. You’re so locked in on what you want for yourself that you can’t even take a step back and realize where you’ve gone wrong. You continue to behave like this divorce is mutual but you know what it’s not, though I wish it were.”

“I am not behaving like it’s mutual. I’m handling it in a peaceful manner.” I laughed. I had to.

“Peaceful? Why couldn’t you handle our marriage peacefully and respectfully? You’re a liar. You lied to me about her. You told me that she was just an old friend and I believed your ass. I stood by you and I believed every word you said to me because I just knew my husband would never do anything to jeopardize what we built together despite whatever issues we may have and you lied. You lied about our issues; painting me as the villain and you as the victim when I tirelessly put up with your shit. I put up with your absence. I dealt with you traveling with that team, being in practice day in and day out, traveling for camp, press, and whatever the hell else you had to do. I didn’t complain. I dealt with your absence while you were here. You’d be right there in front of me and I felt nothing from you. You were like an empty vessel and I just couldn’t get through to you. I didn’t complain.”

“And that’s the problem right there. Maybe you should have. You’re condescending and passive aggressive. Open up your mouth sometimes. You expect people to just get it or get you. You think that everyone’s supposed to automatically understand you, as if you’re some open book. You’re stubborn. You always have been and you always will be. I had to deal with that.” He slammed his hand down on the table, causing it’s wooden legs and the chair at it’s head to rattle in response. His scowl turned into a deep frown and he stared at me, testing me to challenge his statement.

“Open up to a man who doesn’t listen? How could I have opened up to you when all you did was complain? You complained about the job, the team, the city, your previous coaching job in LA, and your busted ass knee that you injured before you and I were together, and yet it somehow became my fault that you cannot play professional basketball. I dealt with you coaching a bunch of men that you quietly envied because you cannot do what they’re doing. You didn’t take that shit out on Lebron and Dwayne. You took it out on me. I dealt with you constantly swallowing pain killers for what you explained as necessary for the so called constant pain within your knee, only for it to turn out that you were physically and mentally dependent on them. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell your mother because I didn’t want to ruin her warped ass picture perfect image of you. I kept it a secret while helping you ween off of those shits without rehab. I was your verbal punching bag as you insulted and argued with me daily for and about them. I dealt with your months and months of erectile dysfunction because of you doping yourself up on those pills and then you stressing while I got you off of them. You made me feel unattractive and you blamed me for it. I dealt with you waking up in cold sweats, pacing, obsessing over championships, and crying because your dreams were ruined.” As I stood to my feet, he stared at his hands while they rested on the table. I awaited a response to my truth but I met with his silence. I could feel and hear my heart thumping against my chest as I attempted to catch my breath. The trembling of my hand, matched the tapping of my foot, and the tightening my stomach trekked it’s way up into my esophagus. He’ll be the death of me if I don’t get out of here.

“I dealt with you denying me of the children I so badly wanted. You continued to tell me that we weren’t ready and I contemplated stopping the birth control but I refrained from doing so to honor you. I didn’t want to ruin your trust in me. I stuck by you. That for better or for worse part of our vows played in my head every single day because I firmly believed we hadn’t hit rock bottom yet and if we did, we’d pick up the pieces and rebuild. I stuck by you at some of your worse times and you left me during mine. I don’t want an apology. Twelve million dollars? What I did for you as your wife is priceless. You wouldn’t be able to make enough money over the entire span of your lifetime to repay me for it. Take that twelve million and fucking drown in it.”

The sound of his voice was muffled by the door closing behind me. I could no longer bare to stand another moment within a room filled with his enormous ego, insincerity, and self-interest. That’s not the man I married; the man I’d share cups of hot chocolate with as we humorously observed our surroundings and made conversation about anyone who stepped inside of our cozy little coffee shop. He’s not the one who I’d go and observe as he coached the men’s basketball team just so he’d wink at me or bid me a knowing smile in the midst of him shouting out plays and strategies to bring his team to a win. He’s no longer the man who I didn’t mind being locked up inside of his apartment with; hiding from the world and basking in one another mentally and physically. We dreamed together, mapped out our goals, and worked towards our future. When it felt like the entire world was stacked up against us, we refused to let one another go and would not allow them the victory of ripping what we built into shreds of oblivion. We were a true union; a partnership crafted by God that no man could put asunder.

As I stood in that room with him, I now know that man has died and our romance perished with him.

A slow, cold, and tarnishing death that has left my love as a forsaken widow.

Dim rays from the setting sun filtered through the small opening of the plush white curtains while the faint sound of the ocean’s roaring waves filled the room. My now adjusted eyes panned up to the ceiling and a small yawn slipped past my lips while I attempted the guess the time. I’d been transitioning from sleeping to watching a random marathon of The Brady Bunch on TVLand since my return from the courthouse. I skipped breakfast while physically and mentally preparing myself for the mediation and the interaction with my husband ruined any desire for lunch. I’m sure the only reason why I’m awake is because of hunger. I deliberately took half of an Ambien so I’d be able to sleep throughout the rest of the afternoon and night, but my body or rather mind ruined the strategy. If I spent any more time watching that family while confined to the memory foam mattress, I’m prone to either scream or check out of this place.

With one roll, I reached over and grabbed my iPhone off of the nightstand and checked the time; seven forty five.

I missed one phone call from my mother, surprisingly one from my father, and two text messages from Heather asking me how the mediation went. Had Heather been in Miami with Mario, we would have been together right now having mojitos and stuffing our faces while she profusely slandered Andreas until she couldn’t find anymore words to say. In this instance, I would have allowed her to do it because I could use the laugh and I’m certain she can use yet another moment when she’s able to have a bash fest over the man she deems to be the biggest mistake of my life. She never excuses me for it because of the love, instead she does so because he has a “pretty face with demonic blue eyes”.

After eating, she’d find someway for us to work off the meal by randomly showing up to some club, rooftop, or yacht party she knew about refrained to mention to me. From there, we’d attempt to relive our college days that I cut short and left her heartbroken over. Though she no longer mentions it, I’m still making that up to her. The guilt is still there; not only for her but also because I should have finished my studies. Before we parted our inseparable ways to began our own lives, we should have walked across that stage together but that’s the past. I’m ready and willing to do it alone.

My fingers scrolled along my list of contacts and I hesitantly paused on his name. I hadn’t heard from him since we arrived in Miami. When we landed yesterday evening, we shared a car service to the Mandarin and he informed me that we’d be staying in town an extra day before we parted ways. Throughout the duration of the twenty minute drive from the airport to the hotel, he adamantly spoke with someone on the phone and didn’t hang up until he said those very brief words to me. I don’t know the ins and outs of his life but what’s obvious is how serious he takes what he does for a living. Though he does not live for it nor does he genuinely enjoy it, he admirably conquers all that he has to do without ever breaking a sweat or faltering. He’s powerful while basking in a modest and reserved demeanor that entrances you almost immediately. He’s unrealistic; the impossible. He’s a figment of my imagination manifesting into my reality.

Pizza? It’s Autumn.

I tossed the phone beside myself and my eyes returned to the french vanilla painted ceiling. As I prepared for a lack of a response, my phone faintly vibrated against my skin.

Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes. I’ll be near the revolving door.

I wish he’d of said twenty minutes, but I mindfully used the ten he offered to slip back into the shoes I’d been wearing earlier in the day and to run a bit of mousse into the wavy curls I’d been enjoying for the past couple of days. While riding the elevator downstairs, I reapplied my favorite MAC “Spite” lip glass to my lips.

As soon as the doors opened, I made the familiar sharp left and walked through the main entrance of the lobby. Just as he told me, he stood by the revolving door in a casual look that I wasn’t expecting. Since our first encounter with one another, I’ve yet to see him in anything other than a two or three piece designer suit. His slender frame is always masked behind the perfectly tailored material representing not only his professionalism but also his very old school taste. Tonight, he opted for a pair of simple navy blue slacks, a button down dress shirt of the same color, and surprisingly, a pair of sneakers. They’re no Nike or Adidas. He decided on a designer pair to mesh well with his entire look. His right arm adorned a simple gold watch; most likely a Rolex, and he left that as his only accessory. Clean, straight to the point, but highly effective.

“How are you?” I spoke first. He’d been too busy staring at whatever is going on outside to notice me coming.

“I’m well. How about yourself?”

“I’m alive.” He chuckled with a nod of his head.

“I can see that. That’s not telling me how you are though. So, how are you?”

“I’m alright.” He glanced in the direction of the glass doors once more and pointed at the Mercedes Benz a valet stepped out of.

“That’s us right there.”

“You were already down here when I texted you?”

“Yeah, I actually just arrived back from a last minute meeting with the second contractor. I was walking to the elevator as soon as you texted me.” We stepped inside of one section of the revolving door together and he did the pushing until we were outside.

“Were you going to relax?”

“No. I was going upstairs to order room service. You saved me from having to do that.”

He opened up the passenger side door for me and waited until my body was comfortably resting against the maroon leather seats before closing the door. He slipped the valet a twenty dollar bill as his towering body lowered down into the drivers seat and he closed the door behind himself. In unison, we put our seat belt on.

“Any place in particular you want to go?” Lauryn Hill’s soothing whistles notes filled my ears as the infectious beat of Nas’ “If I Ruled The World” vibrated against the cool seats.

“Not really. Pizza is pizza. Visa-O1 is decent. Blocks too.”

“I know a spot. It’s not a pizza place but they definitely serve pizza. Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s fine.”

“Windows up or down?” My eyes followed his hand as it switched the car’s gear into drive and they slowly panned up to his face.

“Down.”

He obliged my answer and immediately began drive down Brickell Key Dr. I thought we’d be taking a local route and would be able to take glances at the melting pot of people having a joyous time outdoors but instead I was left to enjoy the scenic US-1 South for nearly fifteen minutes. By then, I could no longer quietly guess where we were going. In my time of living here, I never familiarized myself with this city as much as I should have. I don’t believe he’s ever lived here and he knows this place far better than I do. I couldn’t give him directions to anywhere beyond the handful of places I frequented. During date nights, Andreas and I usually visited same places and those became our spots to go out and have a bite to eat when we could. For Heather, social media announcements and Google Maps takes her wherever she needs to be down here. She goes wherever the night takes her and can barely recall where exactly that place was in the morning. She actually knows nothing more than the way to Mario’s home and mine. Actually, we know the beach too, but who doesn’t?”

“Is this a private road?” We crossed a bridge that I’d never seen or heard about and the surroundings didn’t ring a bell no matter how many times I looked around to familiarize myself.

“Yeah. This is sort of a beach club. Well, actually it is. It’s called Palmeiras.”

“You have a membership here?”

“Well, not technically. This place is represented by the company and the owner is a nice guy so he welcomed me to come by and enjoy the place whenever I have the time to.”

“So how is it? It looks great from out here.”

“I don’t know. This is my first time coming.” I couldn’t help but to playfully suck my teeth and we shared a laugh over my assuming. He didn’t used the navigation system, took the quickest route, and we arrived without him ever losing the way. It was easy to believe he comes here often.

“You’re such a prankster.”

“Hey, you assumed.”

As we stepped out of the car, I realized we’d come as close the Amalfi Coast as we were going to get. This hidden gem basks in the sweeping, unobstructed view of the stunning Biscayne Bay with a picturesque view and peaceful atmosphere that’s rare to find within this area. It marvels after the French Riviera in taste with hints of Italian and Greek structuring. We’d only been walking along side one another for a couple of minutes and I couldn’t take my eyes off of the extensive amenities and beautiful decor. Unlike any other waterfront restaurant, the views of the Bay from here are paranoramic, dazzling in what feels like a small paradise.

“This is incredible.”

“Fredrick was one of the three architects who designed and worked on this place. Miami is his playground and he’s surely done his part in making some of the more recent structures look incredible.”

“He has a great eye. I’m speechless about the view. My God. My house sits near the bay and I don’t believe the view is this incredible from there.”

“Yeah, he does. He’s excellent at what he does. He has an artistic eye that goes beyond being an architect.”

“I can tell.”

“You want stay outdoors?”

“Yes. I’d love that.”

He only left me for two minutes to have a short conversation hostess and it only took another three for us to be seated a table for two with an unparalleled view of the bay. Though he’d chosen not to drink for driving purposes, I indulged and ordered a peach mojito. The Absolute Peach, Pyrat Rum, and Apricot Liquor would compliment the view of the bay in calming my nerves. Though the Mediterranean style dishes throughout the menu were attention grabbing, I settled on a margarita pizza and he; a chicken sandwich.

“This place is so nice. I can’t believe you don’t come here whenever you’re in town. You sure you haven’t been on a date here?” I playfully raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly shook his head in response to it.

“No. I’m being truthful when I say this is my first time. I don’t understand how you were living here for so long and have never been here.”

“Oh you’d be surprised about all of the places I haven’t been throughout my duration of living here. I’m still a newbie in this town.”

“Were you home sick?”

“Uh. Kind of. I didn’t know anyone other than Andreas so I stuck around my house rather than hanging out with myself all the time. I didn’t make any real friends. I know you’re probably wondering why I didn’t become friends with all of the player’s wives but I wasn’t interested. They were pleasant; Savannah, Gabby, Adrienne, and the others, but I just kept to myself. Heather visited every now and then and we hung out a bit, but it still wasn’t enough for me to know and learn a lot around here.” I took my second sip of the chilled drink and nearly sighed in bliss as it steadily slipped down my throat.

“I like it here; not to live but it’s a nice place to hang out. I usually have fun when the guys and I make a trip down here together.”

“You said it’s Fredrick’s playground right?”

“Yeah, but not in the manner that it used to be. He’s locked down now. He’s in love but don’t let him know I told you that.” He chortled at the thought of his best friend and his possible disdain for that statement.

“Oh, he’s fronting about it?”

“Big time.”  

“What about your other friend Mike?”

“Mike’s a chill guy. He’s the joker out of all three of us and the big mouth. Honestly, I don’t know what’s up with him. I think he’s seeing someone. He’s secretive with that type of shit though. You don’t know until he wants you to know. He’d rather be in everyone else’s business, especially mine.” It was my turn to laugh when a frown appeared on his face. If anything Mike to him is what Heather is to me; obnoxiously nosy and a know it all.

“He’s always in your personal business?”

“Hell yeah. He asks a lot of questions. Fredrick will set me up on blind dates.”

“Blind dates? So they’re like match dot com for you?”

“Yeah, in the worse way.”

“As annoying as it sounds, I’m sure it’s just their way of caring about you. They want to see you happy and I think that’s cute.”

“Cute?” He curved his lips to the right and jerked his head back. “Yeah right. What about you?”

“Well, Heather used to try that in high school and at our early beginnings of college but it literally never worked out. I was the master of the curve back then and rather awkward if I must say so myself. I developed late, had a big ol’ forehead. I said that like it vanished. Anyway, I had no boobs or butt. I was kind of a tomboy and eventually shed that as I became older. By the time I was ready to date, I fell for one man and he became my first….everything. So all of that was cut short.”

“How did today go?” I didn’t expect that question after my answer and I nearly finished the rest of the drink as flashbacks of today’s courthouse nightmare played in my head.

“That bad huh?” He didn’t need an answer. I just nodded.

“We don’t have to talk about it. It’ll all turn out for the best. Just believe that.”

“I’m trying to.”

“It will. You want to go back to talking about my dull ass dating life? I don’t mind talking about it.” And just like that, he flared up yet another fit of laughter from me.

“Why do you call it dull?”

“Because it is. Everyone knows that.”

“When was your last girlfriend?”

“Uh, it was during my days at Columbia. Jessica. We dated for three months.”

“How long was your longest relationship?”

“Three months.”

“You’re lying.” I snickered until I nearly choked on the sip of the peach cocktail. He smirked while shaking his head and I glared at him awaiting his admission to that lie.

“I had a situation with someone that lasted a couple of months but it was no relationship. It was an agreement. Samira.”

“So Samira was alright with you two just….having sex?” I playfully side eyed him. “With no strings attached?”

“Yeah. We went out on dates occasionally but it never turned into anything serious though we played with the idea of it. I never met her family and she just so happened to meet my mother because we randomly ran into her. It wasn’t something that I wanted.”

“What did your mom say?”

“She was excited because there was finally some spice in my dull ass love life.”

“Stop calling it that.” Each time he said it I laughed. There was a playfulness in his tone that made it all the more funny. If he can turn something like this into a joke, I don’t see why anyone else can’t. The dating world can be hilarious. Heather and Rachel have stories that are amusing enough to leave you with both a headache and bellyache.

“And then you two parted ways?”

“Yeah. She’s engaged now……and then there’s me.” He snickered as I continued to laugh at his “sob story”. He seems content with his relationship status. I don’t get a lonely vibe from him. I can tell that he’s a loner by nature; not desperate for company, attention, or aggravation.

“Well, you don’t have to be single. There are women awaiting a chance. Before I even knew who you were, Rachel would sit at the desk and verbally lust over you. It’s not just her either. The women in that building and over at Meridian lust when you walk through those doors. You and your brother.” Dante impishly cut his eyes at me and I nodded my head with a smile to assure him that I’m telling no fibs. The Legend Of The St. James Brothers is famous within the companies.

“I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true. They turn into high school girls when you walk in with your designer suits on and your oxford shoes. The leather briefcase takes it over the edge. They giggle, whisper, and come up with all types of scenarios that they’re never going to execute because they’re too afraid to ask you out. You’re also very poised. There’s no exact way to approach you without the fear of looking foolish.” My eyes shamelessly followed his tongue as he ran it over his bottom lip and he shrugged his shoulders. We hadn’t touched our food since the waitress place it down in front of us.

“I don’t come there for that.”

“Your brother flirts.”

“With you?” He leaned forward just a bit and I shook my head.

“With everyone, honestly.”

“He’s married.”

“Oh, I know. Seems like I’m the only one who does know.”

“If he had it his way, no one would know.”

“You two are polar opposites.” It was his turn to finally sip his drink; a Sprite.

“Yes.”

“Are you close despite that?”

“No.” I finally grabbed a slice of the personal pizza and took a small bite out of it as he continued to stare at me. I expected him to finally take a bite out of his chicken sandwich but he didn’t.

“You work very hard. I’ve picked up on that ever since we flew down here for the first time together. You nearly bit my head off that day.” He grimaced; causing a snicker to slip past my lips. “What do you do to relax?”

“Play basketball, watch sports center for an hour or two. I’ll hang out with the fellas. That's about it.”

“You don't go on vacations?”

“No, not really. It’s funny that you mention that. My mother is pushing for this huge family vacation and I'm avoiding it like a plague.”

“Why?” He smirked. I wouldn’t mind vacationing with my parents for as long as Issac doesn’t attend it. I’m convinced we’d most likely try to drown one another at some point.  

“Because it won't be a vacation. It'd be seven days of horror. I’d rather not.”

“Well, what about with your friends?”

“They don't like going on exotic vacations without women, which is fine and I get it. They’re at that stage in their lives where companionship is important. We went out to L.A. with one another not too long ago and we come down here every now and then. That’s our vacations together. There’s work and a bit of play.”

“You need to enjoy your life and enjoy the fruits of your labor. There’s nothing wrong with that. It doesn’t make you arrogant or wasteful to splurge on something that will be beneficial and relaxing for you. You give back to God and the universe more than enough. You should allow God and the universe to give back to you. You haven’t been blessed with all of your success only for you to ignore it and overwork yourself. You should have some fun. I’m not the best at advice but I mean well when I speak.”

“I know you mean well and that advice is something that I’ll take into consideration. You’re not the first person to say it to me but you’re the first person to mention God within it. You’re Christian.”

“I am. I’m no church girl. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve gone to church. That’s probably why I’m a mess now.” My eyes panned to the moonlighted calm waters. “But I know he’s looking out for me; looking out for all of us. I questioned him quite a bit over these last two years because I just knew he was reeking havoc on my life but my aunt Sharon always told me if he brings you to it, he’ll bring you through it. I’m here. My story isn’t over. I still have my life, as my boss told me.” I winked at him and he nodded his head with a small chuckle. His lax body enthralled my own and I too relaxed into my seat and leaned against the back of the white chair.

“I own a home in Malibu. Only three people know about it; Mike, Fred, and Stacey. I had it built over the last couple of years. I’d been dreaming of having a huge house of my own since I was a kid. By the time I was eighteen, I began to save up for it and ever since then I’ve been working to be able to afford it. It’s completed now and as of a couple of months ago, it’s fully furnished.”

“So you’re moving out of New York?”

“No. I haven’t stayed in the house and I don’t plan to, at least not yet. The week we were in California, I went there, and as beautiful as the house is, it doesn’t feel like home yet. It felt empty with me standing in it. That tells me that I have a lot of unfinished business to handle and more to accomplish before I can settle my life there. That house will be my relaxation. It’ll be me enjoying the fruits of my labor. I have to wait though. It’s all in God’s timing right?”

“I’d say so. How long do you think it’ll take you to feel and be ready? A couple of months? A year?”

“I’ll be ready when it’s worth it in every single way possible. I can’t estimate how long that will be but I’m willing to wait.”

The moonlight glimmered in his unfathomable deep brown eyes as the confidence within his statement rattled me. In his reserved manner, he’s so assured in himself and what he wants. I mistook him to be still finding his way much like I am but he already knows the way. He’s practical and sensible with just enough assertiveness; unbelievable and yet so tangible. Vulnerable.

My eyes traced his jawline as he stared at the view that took my breath away upon our arrival.

Unreal.