#Cold Plunge Therapy Near Me

[tranquilwellness]

In today’s fast-paced world, wellness therapies are becoming increasingly popular as people seek ways to relax, rejuvenate, and maintain their health. Among the most talked-about treatments are cold plunge therapy and red light therapy.  Check out this blog to learn the tips and benefits of cold plunge therapy and red light therapy.

[optimalfitnessarizona]

Hours:

6am - 8pm Monday - Sunday

No of Employers:

1-5

Year Founded:

2008

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[fandom-alley]

Rekindling at the Spa

18+

Summary: Spencer has an evening at the spa as per his doctors orders, and meets up with a girl he met at Penelope's over a year ago. This time he convinces himself not to leave without getting her phone number, but he ends up getting a little bit more.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Category: Fluff, smut (like hardly though)

Warnings: 18+, kissing, making out, semi-public (no ones around) grinding, coming untouched/in pants

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: inspired by my recent trip to the spa where i realized just how single i am. this is my first time writing something spicier than making out, so it's not a lot and just at the end, go easy on me lol

Also on AO3

The last thing Spencer Reid wanted to do was spend his evening at the hydrotherapy spa. Germs from the water of hot tubs could make you sick if consumed, and so could the vapour that comes off the water. Not to mention the possibility of a rash due to the chemicals used. But it was his doctor's orders. Apparently his own doctoral status was not good enough to sway them to let him come back to work early and skip this step. 

There were many steps he had to complete as part of his recovery process; resting his injured leg, physical therapy, changes to his diet, therapy for his mental health. And the dreaded ‘spa relaxation’.

Now, most doctors probably wouldn’t prescribe a day at the spa as something to do as part of recovery, but Spencer’s doctor knew him well. He knew that throughout the last month, even though Spencer had completed most of his steps, he wasn’t relaxing through any of it. And his doctor was correct. Spencer’s brain had been working double time, reading twice the amount of books he usually did in a day while he was immobile elevating his injured leg. Reading up on new techniques for profiling and offering tips to the BAU when they worked a local case.

His doctor could tell that his inability to relax his brain, therefore relaxing his body, was the last step in holding him back from complete recovery.

So here he was, entering a Nordic hydrotherapy spa, where he was not allowed to bring in any cell phones, tablets, or hold loud conversations with anyone. And while it was acceptable to bring books in to read, Spencer didn’t want to risk dropping one in the water and ruining it. So he was about to be forced to put his self meditation techniques to use. 

After changing into his swim shorts, putting on the complimentary robe and locking away his belongings, Spencer stepped out of the main building into the frigid evening air. He breathed in the scent of salt, chlorine, and eucalyptus from the nearby steam room. Hidden speakers in the plant beds around the property played out relaxing spa style music. Spencer had to admit, despite his reservations regarding germs, he already did feel quite relaxed.

The steam coming off the hot pools seemed to blanket the grounds in silence. It wasn’t that busy, but Spencer spotted a few people relaxing in the pools and walking in-between sections of the spa grounds. 

Upon his check in tonight, the kind lady at the front desk informed him how to use the spa for maximum relaxation and hydrotherapy benefits. She recommended he sit in a hot pool for 10 to 15 minutes, take a plunge in the cold pool for at least 15 seconds or as long as he could handle, and then relax in a sauna, steam room, or relaxation room before continuing the process a few times.

The property was large, with 4 different hot pools, 3 different cold plunge pools, 2 rooms for wood burning saunas, the eucalyptus steam room, and multiple chairs dotting the ground surrounding fireplaces where you could sit and relax. Without putting too much thought to it, Spencer hung up his robe near the closest hot pool and stepped into the burning water. 

The change in temperature stung his cold toes as they started to warm up. The water was only up to his waist as he waded through past a few couples sitting to the sides. He made his way to the back of the pool where it was blissfully empty and took a seat. Since he was so tall sitting on the built in seats along the edge of the pool, the water only went up to mid chest. But the rest of his exposed skin felt refreshed with the cool air blowing over him. A good contrast to the hot water covering the rest of his body.

Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to shut his brain off. It worked for a few minutes, before he heard a couple a few feet over whispering sweet nothings to each other. It just made Spencer start thinking about his own lacklustre love life.

With his job in the BAU there wasn't that much opportunity and time for a relationship. Sure, some of his co-workers had figured it out. Like JJ and Will for instance. Spencer had seen how difficult it was for Morgan to hold down a relationship with their crazy work hours as well.

He hadn't really put that much effort into a relationship, though. Part of the reason was that he just didn't have the time. Some of the cases kept them away from home for weeks at a time. Sometimes to the point where he really didn't know how his friends and co-workers were able to keep it up. He was the type of guy who wanted to get to know someone, be around them lots in the early stages, and that was just too hard with work.

Spencer jolted out of his daydream when someone splashed into the seat next to him.

"Is this seat taken?" The voice belonged to a pretty girl, who if he had to guess was maybe just a few years younger than him. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't seem to place where he recognized her from. "You're Dr. Spencer Reid, right?" She asked.

"Yes, that's me," he replied with a furrowed brow, wracking his brain on why her big brown eyes looked like they knew him as well.

Thankfully she caught on to his confusion. "I'm y/n. Penelope's friend from book club. We met a year ago at her place when she had a viewing party for the season finale of Love Is Blind. I almost didn't go because I really don't watch reality TV, but I had just moved to the area and I wanted to try and make some friends."

Spencer remembered her now. Back then at the party she had her hair down in unruly curls and it was the colour of fire engine red. Now her hair was tied back to stay out of the water and it was the colour of midnight black. He wasn't one to forget a face, or forget much of anything really. But something about a dramatic change in hair colour and style had the Clark Kent effect on him. Maybe it was because he was in a pretty decent state of relaxation.

"I remember you," he said, nodding his head in recognition. "I also didn't want to go to that party but Penelope is hard to say no to."

Y/n laughed, "Yes she is, isn't she. It's good though. Because of her persistence I was able to make a few friends that night. And on multiple other nights as well. Penelope frequently tries to set me up on dates." She was talking pretty quietly as per spa rules, and it would have been hard to hear if she hadn't sat close and leaned in while she talked. Normally Spencer would have backed away, but something about her presence was soothing. Or maybe that was just the water jets from the pool shooting into his back.

"So what brings you to the spa tonight?" Spencer asked her. He might have met her back then at the party, but they hadn't said many words to each other. He remembered being slightly intimidated by her fiery hair and bubbly personality and after their initial introduction he snuck away with his glass of juice to browse Pen's book collection.

"Actually, it was a birthday gift from Penelope!" Y/n smiled.

"Oh, happy birthday." Spencer smiled back at her. Why was he intimidated back then, he thought to himself. She was so beautiful and so nice, and so far fairly easy to talk to, it seemed.

"Thank you. But it's actually not until next month. Penelope just told me this was the only night she could get a reservation and that when my actual birthday happened she would buy me a cake," y/n laughed. 

Spencer pursed his lips in confusion. When he booked his reservation on his doctor's orders, there looked to have been multiple available times from now until the end of the year. The only day that was sold out was Thanksgiving weekend.

"When did she give you the gift with the reservation in it?" He asked y/n, with a hint of scepticism in his voice.

"About 3 days ago I think it was," she answered. About 3 days ago is when Spencer called up Penelope to rant to her about being forced to go to this spa. Was it possible Pen had given Y/n the gift as an excuse to try and set them up? Back at the party he had gotten the vibe when she introduced them that she wanted them to become friends. But Spencer had never gotten her number or email, and figured it just wasn't meant to be. Although how could it be, when he actively avoided her most of that night.

"What a coincidence that we're both here on the same night," Spencer told her.

"I know, right? I wasn't completely sure that you were you when I saw you sitting over here. But you're a hard one to forget, Dr. Reid," y/n said. Was that a blush he saw forming on her cheeks, or was she just getting too warm from the water.

"You can just call me Spencer. I really don't make anyone use doctor unless we're at work," he chuckled.

"Will do, Spencer. I hope you don't mind that I came over to sit with you. I can leave if you want the relaxation of being alone." She started to slide away from her seat slowly, giving him the opportunity to tell her she didn't need to leave. Which is exactly what he did.

"I don't mind. It's kind of nice to have company. I didn't realize how many people went to the spa with their partners," he told her. 

"Well, perfect. We can experience this spa together then. So how come you didn't come here with your partner?" Y/n asked slyly. Spencer could feel his face heat up with the attention turned to himself.

"No partner. I actually had to come here by doctor's orders. I got shot in the leg last month, and as the last part of recovery my doctor wanted me to relax more and figured what better way to force me to relax than to send me to the spa.”

“Oh my gosh. I’m tempted to ask if you’re okay, but it seems like you are, since you’re sitting here. I had no idea your job could lead to such violence,” Y/n exclaimed. 

“Every day is something different. They usually keep me off the field working from the office or police stations, but even then you never know what could happen,” Spencer explained.

“Wow. Okay, sorry. This is supposed to be relaxing and here I am bringing up work talk. What do you say we take a plunge into the cold?” Y/n asked with a grin.

This was probably the experience at the spa he was least likely to enjoy, but he followed her out of the water and next door to the cold pool. It was completely empty and Spencer was not surprised. Y/n grabbed his hand, sending a shock through his body, as they stood at the top of the stairs to the pool.

“It’s pretty likely that one of us is going to wimp out once our feet hit the water. So if need be, we have to drag the other person in, okay?” She said as she looked up at him. His voice got caught in his throat as he looked down at her and all he could do was nod in agreement. 

With a deep breath in, together they stepped onto the first step. It was so cold Spencer felt like his toes would fall off in a second. However he didn’t even get a second thought to think about stepping back out before y/n fell forward into the water, pulling him with her. He had to grab onto her hips for stability so he didn’t end up falling on top of her in the 3 feet of water. 

“It’s so cold,” Y/n gasped out.

It might have been 15 seconds, it might have been 5 minutes, but Spencer felt lost in time as he held Y/n in his arms in the freezing cold water. He didn’t even feel that cold in the places where Y/n’s skin touched his. Slowly, as if held down by some invisible force, he removed his hands from her hips and grabbed her hand this time to help her out of the water.

Feeling a new burst of energy from the cold shock, Spencer helped Y/n into her robe before putting on his, then wordlessly grabbed her hand and led her to one of the saunas. Inside, they were met with a blast of heat as Spencer guided Y/n to the back bench. Every seat in the sauna faced a wall made of glass that overlooked a small lake with a fountain cascading in the middle. As he relaxed into his seat, Y/n decided to lay out on the bench beside him and use his thigh as a head rest. 

Neither of them said a word as they gazed out the window, watching the birds fly by and the ducks swim in the lake. 

Spencer thought back to the night of Penelope’s party. After he had pushed himself to the wall to avoid interacting with people, he did end up watching from afar as Y/n made her way around talking to all the guests. He might have initially felt intimidated, but he was also fascinated with her. He’d seen a lot of different people with his job, and he’d seen people with colourfully dyed hair before as well, but something about her red curls just drew in his eyes and he couldn’t take them back.

She was beautiful, enchanting even, and he wanted to get her phone number. But then he had thought back to their last case. Where they had been gone for 16 days in a row. He had watched JJ as she video called Will and her kids any chance they got. Watched Hotch take numerous phone calls from his son. Even Morgan escaped for private chats with Savannah. He wasn’t sure if that was something he would be able to handle. So eventually he said goodnight to Penelope, left the party, and left any thoughts he had about Y/n behind as well.

Now that Penelope had schemingly gotten her back into his life, he was determined to make sure he got her number before leaving again. 

Spencer and Y/n enjoyed the spa amenities for another couple hours, cycling through the recommended steps while chatting quietly or relaxing in silence. Despite not doing much, they started to feel tired from the heated pools and saunas before eventually agreeing to meet outside in the parking lot after they got changed so they could say a proper goodbye.

Spencer rushed through changing, not wanting to take too long in case Y/n decided she didn’t want to stay, and made it outside in record time. He stood off to the side at the parking lot entrance, waiting for her with his heart racing. It took her a little bit longer, but eventually he saw her walking down the path. 

Her hair was down now, damp and a little frizzy from her curls trying to poke through. Wearing a simple black zip up sweater and black leggings, she looked cozy but also like she was about to rob a bank. She smiled at him when she reached his spot, taking his hand in hers to lead him to where she parked. The lot had almost emptied, leaving mostly staff vehicles and the last few remaining spa guests wanting to get every minute out of their visit as they could. Even with the empty lot, Y/n led Spencer to her car, a little black Honda, parked alone in the corner lit up only by the bright moon in the sky. 

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you tonight, Spencer,” Y/n told him when they stopped beside her car. She didn’t move to unlock it, opting instead to stand there with her hand still clasped in his.

“Of course. It was really lovely to see you again, Y/n,” said Spencer. Okay, he thought to himself, now is the time to do it. Bite the bullet and ask for her number. “Would you, maybe, be willing to exchange numbers and we can plan to go out for coffee some time soon?”

Y/n broke into a smile. “I would love that,” she said before reciting her number. She knew he would remember it, if Penelope’s constant chatter about how amazing Spencer’s memory is was to be true. 

“Awesome. So, I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Spencer moved to head back to his own vehicle but was stopped by a hand placed on the centre of his chest.

“Yeah. Or,” said Y/n, “Maybe we could do this?”

Before he could ask what ‘this’ was, she used the hand on his chest to push him back against the door of her car. Then she leaned in, rising up onto her toes to try and match his height, and placed her lips on his. It was quick, but enough to leave Spencer breathless, before she pulled away the slightest bit to look into his eyes.

“Is this okay?” she asked, and when he mumbled out a yes, nodding his head, she wasted no time going back in.

Their lips crashed together in an instant, almost too eager to finally be getting what they’ve both been craving all night. Y/n removed her hand from his chest to bring both of them into his hair, feeling the damp curls and giving them a little tug. Spencer brought his arms around her waist tightly, bringing her in closer to help relieve the strain of standing on her toes. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening, and in a parking lot. But he wouldn’t change a thing. Y/n’s hands made their way down to the back of his neck, before she brought them to his jaw. He let out a groan when she pulled on his bottom lip with her teeth, before their tongues collided with one another.  

Spencer brought his hands down even further, to grip the soft area at the back of her thigh just underneath her butt. He used his new grip to pull her up higher, spinning them around so that it was her back pressed against the car this time. She wrapped her legs around him to hold on as Spencer moved one of his hands up to her face, running his fingers along her jaw before finally pushing her hair back away from her neck. He broke away from her mouth to trail kisses along her neck, stopping to suck or nip at areas that drew a soft moan from her lips. He made his way down to her chest, where she had left part of the sweater unzipped. 

When he pulled back on the sweater he stopped with a groan, breathing deeply as he held her closer and grew tighter in his pants. Where he was expecting to see some sort of lace bra, instead he was met with nothing. She wasn’t wearing anything under the sweater. Hungrily, he opened her sweater more and he attached himself to the soft swell of her breast. Kissing, sucking, and gently biting. 

Without even realizing it, they started to move against each other. Spencer rolled his hips against hers, seeking that friction but focusing his attention on the skin between his lips. 

“Oh, fuck.” Y/n threw her head back in a moan as Spencer finally attached his mouth to the hard nub that was waiting for attention. He swirled his tongue around as he sucked on the sensitive area. “That feels so good.” she groaned. She brought her hands up to tangle them in his hair and hold him in place, only letting him move when he wanted to show her other side some love as well. 

It was difficult to move much against the car, but Spencer was hitting her in all the right places. Y/n could feel a familiar welcomed pressure building in her core and she gripped her legs tighter around him.

“Spencer,” y/n breathed out. “I’m close.”

He lifted his head enough to look at her. Her head back and eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. “Yeah?” he asked and she nodded her head while trying to move her hips faster against his. 

Spencer ground into her with a new purpose now. Paying more attention to the moves from his hips, he went back to sucking on her breast. This time he brought his hand to palm the other one. Squeezing and feeling the fullness of it in his hand. He rolled and pinched her nipple between his fingers at the same time as he gently grazed his teeth over the other one. It was enough to send Y/n over the edge, with Spencer right behind her. 

Spencer’s thrusts grew short until eventually they stopped as they came down from their high. He brought her in for another kiss, lazily moving his lips against hers while they got their breathing under control. Finally, Y/n unwrapped her legs from around him and he let her go.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe we just did that,” she said with a suddenly shy smile and glanced up at him. He looked down at her like he was seeing an angel. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He gripped the edges of her sweater and zipped it up tight to her neck. “What do you say we skip the coffee and go right back to my place?”

“I like the way you think. Lead the way.”

Click here for chapter 2! Available on AO3 only because it's basically smut and I was too nervous to post it on Tumblr lol

Thank you for reading, liking, or rebloging! <3

[thekristen999]

Newest:

Fight In the Shadows  33k

The 118 are summoned to a distant location in the desert, become trapped, have to fight for their lives, and Buck and Eddie finally realize they've been pining for each other for years. Now, if they can all make it out alive.

A Light in the Darkness 1k 

Post-apocalyptic vibes, future fic.

Whose Attention? 6k 

Tommy didn’t spend days chasing Buck. Or Tommy's pursuit of Eddie and the craziness that ensures whenever they're around his best friend.

Follow You Into The Dark

Buck kept a firm grip around Eddie’s arm as he was guided down hallways. They’d both experienced something like this before during the Academy: cadet’s exercises where both teammates were blindfolded and forced to depend on the other to escape burning buildings. This wasn’t unlike that experience, except of course this was real and Buck’s freaking eyes were swollen shut and Eddie was concussed and deaf.

(Or a serial arsonist terrorizes the city, plunging Buck and Eddie into a dangerous game of cat and mouse.)

Cutting The Ties That Bind -Complete Evan Buckley was a businessman, he had meetings and deadlines like everyone else.

Occasionally, he got threatened, but it was usually all hot air and ego. That all changed the day his breaks were tampered with. Enter Eddie Diaz, security specialist, who was not easily impressed by Buck’s expensive suits or financial conquests. That was okay. Buck enjoyed a challenge. AKA The Mafia AU.

bro·ken  

Summary: Forced to take shady side jobs to pay his bills, Evan Buckley doesn’t think he’s ever seen such rock bottom. Until he meets Eddie Diaz, a man even more desperate and alone. Season 3 AU. 

9-1-1/Buddie

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Healing/PTSD

Hold the Pain, Release Me   6k  Eddie is encouraged to explore art therapy.

Buddha's Arrow  4k. Buck helps Eddie navigate chronic pain.

Hand Covers Bruise  7k Eddie character study.

Are You With Me?  27k Eddie and Buck navigate a relationship post Eddie Begins.

Trying Hard to Remember, Trying Hard To Forget 25k Post shooting. Eddie and Buck shared a trauma, but undergo different healing paths. Struggles of recovery.

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Hurt/Comfort

A Light in the Darkness 1k Post-apocalyptic vibes 

Tick...Tick...Boom    4k. Call gone wrong.

Beside You In Time  2k Post shooting. Pain meds.

Stand By Me 2k  Post shooting. Missing scene. Hospitals

Nothing Burns Like The Cold 2k Buck and Eddie get trapped in a freezer. 

Crash Into You- 3k Eddie gets struck by lightening. Medic!Buck (written a year ago)

There Goes My Hero, He's Ordinary  7k Post Eddie Begins.  Medic!Buck. Near drowning/Hypothermia    

We're In This Together Now  5k Meth lab fic. Medic!Eddie

Alone In The Dark With You 14k  Buck and Eddie get trapped in a cave-in and things go from bad to worse. Medic!Eddie Medic!Buck

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Action/Adv or Drama

We’ve Got Fun & Games   7k The Team competes in local Amazing Race  Challenge. Hijinks ensue.

Misadventures In The Great Outdoors  8k Camping trip from hell. (Action Humor)

The World Is On Fire And No One Can Save Me But You  6k Eddie and Buck get caught in a riot.

The Shape Of Water 9k T.  How water has influenced Buck’s life. Backstory. Medic!Buck

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AU

We Found Each Other (Over There) 46k  Epic WWII AU.

Lost  5k  Alt ending to The Searchers. Christopher is not found right away.

Whatever It Takes To Find You  5k   Eddie Begins AU.  Buck is a Pararescue (PJ) specialist sent to rescue the downed chopper.

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All Fic Links:

9-1-1/Buddie Fic

H50/McDanno Fic

Daredevil Fic

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Coffee Fund :)

[dragongirlteeth]

Apotheosis

or, why Thorne has the prosthesis she does.

Today is unusual. The administrators have awoken us earlier than usual. 0300 hours. They tell us nothing, but direct us down unfamiliar hallways, through sectors marked forbidden, towards some unknown destination.

It's funny, following orders from things one third your height. It grates on the sense of pride I've been silently nurturing. But they control the facility here, disobedience is futile, an exercise in pain.

So I will bear it.

Concrete hallways give way to an atrium, large enough for all of us, but with no comfort offered. "Wait here," the administrators tell us.

Minutes crawl by. Most take a seat against the walls or lay on the floor.

"Oh-Oh-One!" a voice barks from the end of the room. The silver-scaled figure of 001 stands tall. She marches with guided purpose towards the door, following the diminutive administrator out of the room.

Minutes later the screaming begins. Faint, it echoes down the empty hallways. It's not an unfamiliar sound, pain is a fact of life here. It makes us stronger.

All too soon, it stops.

"Oh-Oh-Two!"

The violet scales of 002 make their exit, with trepidation.

---

Minutes crawl into hours. Sometimes the screaming seems like it will never end. Sometimes it ends unsettlingly quickly.

"Oh-Three-One!"

Me.

I stand, and tread with grim purpose towards whatever fate awaits me. There is no disobeying an administrator.

I follow them into a smaller room off the main hallway. The scent of gore, ozone, and ash fill my nostrils. Lab equipment is lined against the walls of an operating theater, many of its once clean surfaces coated in ichorous blood. Ash dusts the floor, a patchwork of grey dust over once pristine white tiles.

And among it all lay the damning evidence. Scales in near every color of the rainbow. Pieces of those gone before me.

But the administrators are not to be disobeyed.

I lay on the operating table as restraints are placed over my arms. I wonder what death will be like. Painful, no doubt. I simply wonder why, after all the effort put into training us, that the administrators would throw us all away. Too dangerous? Not useful?

A gantry swings overhead, bearing with it a machine bristling with needles. It lowers towards my chest, and with a sudden motion, ten high strength titanium alloy needles sharpened to molecular points pierce through my scaly hide. The pain is bearable, I do not scream.

Fluid begins flowing. Something is suppressing my nerves. Something is making me nauseous. A cold liquid runs in my veins, but my paralyzed muscles are powerless to shiver it away.

A vial drops through the center of this contraption. It glows, but more than that, I can feel it in my soul. A powerful ontological aura surrounds it. The capsule bears the markings of a gene therapy injection, but the contents are like nothing else in the universe.

Dragon Essence.

This is a truth that makes itself known of its own accord. However I was created, some deep, abiding instinct realizes that even in the abstract, the concept of a dragon is an existential threat. A fear soul-deep.

An eleventh needle plunges deep into my chest, piercing my sternum.

Amber light glows as a white hot ember is forced into my body. An ember that will not be contained.

My vision whites out as every nerve in my body echoes a pain deeper than existence. I cannot help but scream. A deep, howling, roaring scream tears itself from my lungs as if the air itself must flee from the god in my chest.

I taste metal, copper and iron and everything beyond. Heat scorches my very bones as the touch of a god caresses my atoms. Blue light echoes around the chamber as energy screams against the boundaries of the universe itself.

I feel a tingling in my right arm. It starts in my claws, and I will myself to see through the pain to witness my fate. The scales of my arm begin to peel away as the atoms underneath are rent into their constituent parts. The flaying light crawls up my arm, all the way up to my shoulder, until my arm ceases its existence.

My chest is near bursting with energy, and I can feel as the radiant light beyond light rips from my back and scorches a part of my wing to ash, no, finer than ash.

BUT I AM NOT TO DIE HERE. I WILL NOT LET THEM UNMAKE ME.

To rival the gods. That is our purpose. The administrators value us because we are built to devour all who would oppose us. If I am to succeed, then I will make this baleful light a part of me. I will take it wholly into my body as mine and mine alone.

The spark of divinity is a delicious meal. My soul tears into it piece by piece, flaying each part from the core, and suckling on the ambrosia within. And with it, the light begins to subside.

No.

The light becomes a part of me. And as the last morsels dissolve away, I breathe again. Ragged, gasping breaths. Blood pours from the socket where my right arm once sat. My right wing is nearly cut off at the joint. All is pain, but no pain compares to that I have now known. Blue light flickers under my scales as I breathe in deep, and release a bellow of pure radiant energy, scorching the air itself into electric light.

Darkness claims my consciousness.

---

I awake to the feeling of an unfamiliar body. I feel powerful, but at the same time so incredibly weak. Sensation once again fills my right arm, but it is... strange. I glance over and see carbon fiber sinew and titanium alloys now comprise that section of my body. A quick flex of my wings reveals that the severed joints there have been similarly replaced.

And a heavy, warm sensation sits on, no, half-submerged in my chest. Inspection reveals some sort of metallic core, emanating otherworldly, yet familiar, heat.

I begin to sit up and see others like me sporting similar augmentations, in various states of consciousness. I can see 002 a few beds down, 026 across from me, a few others I could maybe name if pressed. 001 is not present. Nor are many others.

"Survivors. Congratulations." breaks the cold voice of an administrator.

"You are the first beings ever to successfully contain the power of a dragon."

[xertzspot32]

How Are Leather Leggings Gaining Popularity Today?

Wearing leather Leggings is a trend that many women are hesitant to embrace. You might be dubious if you haven't worn them before, and that's good. However, you'll understand why leather Leggings are so popular if you eventually take the plunge and start wearing them.

Additionally, leather Leggings have many unquestionable advantages, some of which we'll discuss in today's blog post.

Less Rigid Than Denim

Many men and women frequently wear jeans as their go-to pair of Leggings. This is because they come in many styles, are robust, and last long. In addition, leather Leggings are much softer and more pleasant to wear than jeans, even if there is nothing inherently wrong with wearing jeans.

This is so because, unlike jeans, which are composed of denim, leather trousers are made of soft, premium leather. These two materials' differences are like night and day. Leather is supple and malleable, whereas denim is firm and somewhat rigid.

Form-Fitting

To enhance and complement your appearance, leather Leggings are also form-fitting, meaning they fit closely to your body. It's common knowledge that wearing baggy clothing makes one look unpleasant and unsightly. If your Leggings are overly big, the extra material will give you an unflattering appearance.

However, leather Leggings don't have this issue. They'll hug your legs to complement your figure because of their form-fitting qualities. Leather Leggings don't necessarily mean they're tight or restricting; they fit your body shape to define and improve your image.

Warmth

The extraordinary warmth and weather protection provided by leather Leggings is a lesser-known advantage. The temperature will continue to plummet as winter draws near. You might need to dress warmly to protect yourself from the chilly weather depending on where you live.

Fortunately, leather Leggings are the ideal piece of clothing for chilly weather. As you may already be aware, dehydrated, tanned, and processed animal hide is used to create leather. As a result, it works particularly well as a defense against the cold.

In addition, the rate at which you lose body heat is slowed by the insulation that leather creates. Putting aside the technical jargon, wearing leather Leggings will keep you warm and cozy even when the temperature drops.

Rejects Moisture That Causes Odor

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[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye VII — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 

JEON JUNGKOOK TIES THE KNOT!

‘It’s a sad day indeed as the most eligible bachelor in the city is now officially married! The ceremony took place in a garden like-setting on the grounds of the old Jeon manor where we could see the cherry blossoms falling on Kim Belle’s veil.

The couple absolutely glowed in the afternoon light and Jungkook couldn’t keep his eyes off his new bride. While this relationship came as a surprise to everyone, many sources speculate that the two had been liaising for years in secret. Leave it the Jeon family to be as extravagant yet discreet as possible.

As per the family’s tradition, they will be staying in the manor for two nights before going back to their shared home.

Belle’s dress had been a little underwhelming to some of us until we got word that her waistline is encrusted with approximately 96 5 carat diamonds, the whole dress designed and created by Madame Saito, her mentor and one of the leading designers of our country. So appearances are quite deceiving as we’re looking at an easily $20, 000 wedding dress adorned by the new heiress.

The whole ceremony moved as smoothly as the falling flowers. Definitely a step up from the previous few articles written for Kim Belle in poor taste. The new Mrs. Jeon takes the award for being the most elegantly majestic bride of the year.’

-

“Sorry, sir?” Yoongi asked to make sure he heard Jungkook ask him to come over to his office for a private meeting. There were two ways this could go. Either a bullet in his head or a bullet he has to put in someone else’s head. Namjoon told him a lot of stories of how newer members of any mafia made you kill someone at least once to test true loyalty. Because really one could die to save themselves from any more misery but living their entire life responsible for a murder was a whole other story.

Jungkooks’ expression did not falter in the slightest, still in his proper wedding attire with a light tint on his lips from Belle’s lipstick. “It’s only going to be a few minutes.” He walked past him having every expectation of being followed.

Yoongi did not hesitate to continue walking along the large regal hallway before turning right into a dark rustic office. A much older man already situated himself on the couch while two guards stood on each side of a figure resting on his knees in front of the table.

The usual bright and luxurious light in the rest of the mansion unfortunately did not reach this room. Scent of tobacco mixed in with expensive cologne and sweat swirling in a dark room adorned with deep brown furniture. This was a place of purely business. Despite the pretty lavenders on Jungkooks’ breast pockets matching the flowers in Belle’s hair.

“Park Jeongsu…he was found in midst of exchanging letters to the mayor.” The older male spoke in a gruff tone possibly from the smoke infecting his throat.

“Thank you, uncle.” Jungkook stared down at the wooden box lined in purple velvet. “Do you see that? That’s what you called loyalty.” Fingers traced the outline of some diagram on the top that Yoongi could quite catch but it shone in gold. “Chul has been mingling with the likes of our own gang…” He scoffed with a smile. “Clever.”

Yoongis’ heart seemed quickly tumble down into a tight cage situated somewhere deep in an endless abyss. There was more sources for the mayor. Just how many rats did they have in this place? The man understandably was given minimal information so it was easy for him to stay unknowing and a little confused.

“I despise disloyal people, Jeongsu. I really do.” He attempted to give the trembling male an apologetic look but anyone could sense there was no sincerity. “Especially on one of most joyous occasions of my life, I expected all my soldiers to stay by my side. To protect me as I have tried to protect you and your families. I’ve always tried to be a gracious leader.” Jungkook shrugged. “If it were my father, your own balls would be stuffed down your throat until you choke to death.”

The mere description and Yoongi saw the male on his knees breathing heavily, the cloth around his mouth inflating at every breath.

“Of course today I can’t get my hands dirty.” He moved both hands away from the box. “I need to be gracious and generous today in honor of my new beloved wife.” Jungkook leaned on the edge of the table by his hands. “Thankfully my uncle was nice enough to question you while I was gone…” He gestured towards his blood soaked shirt and swollen eye. “So if you’ve come this far to me, that means you’re of no use.”

The words barely settled into the room but muffled protesting began from the vulnerable target. Even if the cloth wasn’t hindering his clarity, Jungkook and his uncle probably would not have had any remorse to step away. This wasn’t a family or business of mercy.

Flickering open the wooden box, Jungkook in his most casual aura picked up the shining silver object. Each bullet placed inside with heartwarming care before the older mans’ voice slithered through the intimate moment.

“Jungkook…” His uncle warned with a stern tone, smoke riddling the air around him. “It’s bad luck to execute someone on your wedding day.”

“I know.” He muttered without sparing him a sideways glance. Once everything had been prepared, Jungkook walked around the table and stood in front of the traitor. The gun handed out in Yoongis’ direction.

All eyes were on the male now and he never felt more uncomfortable in his entire life. He had been stuck in a trunk before so that was saying something. Eyes flickered from the older man to Jungkook to the male who clearly had been on his side. Of course refusing to do so would end with both their lives taken and then this whole operation would combust back into nothingness.

You’ve shot guns before. Not at innocent people.

No one was truly innocent. At least that was sentiment he plastered in his mind hiding away all the warnings and alarms from his conscience. Padding closer to where Jungkook stood, his heart raced faster at every step swallowing down any protest struggling to push through.

The thrashing faded away into a meek sob as Yoongi faced the man. Much to his discontent, the lack of lines on his face and the broken brightness in his eyes showed that he was but a boy. Possibly a tad younger than Jungkook himself or his age. Either way his mind now haunted itself with the prospect of killing a near child for the sake of his operation. Was it worth to take a life for this?

He was not the only one risking things however. This boy was one of many who were already victims of Jungkooks’ rule, at least Yoongi knew the one kneeling before him had fought for a cause.

Clicking back the safety, Yoongi tightened his jaw ignoring the tears streaming down their cheek and the giant eyes staring back at him.

For a few seconds the younger male calmed himself to an almost peaceful breathing state. It was brief and hard to truly notice but Yoongi saw the little nod he gave him. Reassuring the older male that this needed to be done. One life to protect the many.

In a rush of adrenaline Yoongi pulled the trigger. It wasn’t as loud as the guns he received in the precinct. Perfect for quick and quiet executions especially during these occasions. For a moment he could pretend that nothing even happened. Though blood leaking from the hole made on the others’ forehead spoke a truer story.

To the side he dropped, light thud echoing in the room before nothing but silence plunged comfortably.

“The den in Gongneung needs to be put under heavy security. I remember him one of the boys who was patrolling there.” Jungkook nodded towards the unmoving figure before fixated his gaze on the two guards who immediately bowed in response. “And I want a private meeting with the person who brought him in as a tribute.” He finally turned to Yoongi, expression softening a little at how frozen the man was. Carefully he patted him on the back. “You did well, Yoongi. I know being a medical apprentice, this isn’t exactly your line of work but I need to see whether it’s safe to have you around.” A small smile played on his lips. “I suppose I can always trust Belle’s judgement.”

Yoongi forced him to meet the younger male’s gaze, an awkward smile flickered but quickly faded away as he dumbly watched Jungkook take the gun away from him and put it on the table gently.

The boy lay limp on the dark wood slowly being painted with blood, deepening its hue into a deep wine glistening in the lowlight. Definitely not a sight supposed to be seen on an auspicious day.

Jungkook watched the blood ooze across the room and merely stood over it to move closer to the door. “Clean this up. No more tasks until I get to the mansion.” He ordered simply. “Yoongi…”

His attention flicked back to reality in a rush of cold air before following Jungkook along like a confused puppy.

As the bright light almost burned his eyes, Yoongi pretended that he just woke up from a really bad dream and nothing ever happened. He learned how to do that very quickly in his career especially after he shot his first person in the field. Not the healthiest way to cope but his pay did not actually cover for therapy.

Jungkook dug his hands into his pockets looking out the window. A bright, perfect day to be married after so long of hearing one proposal after the other. It was finally done. Eyes flickered towards the raven haired male who finally caught up to stand next to him. “Unfortunately I have to ask you another favor as well, Yoongi.”

“Does it involve me killing anyone? Can I have a five minute break first?”

The younger male chuckled before shaking his head. “No…it’s—it’s a little more delicate than that.”

Yoongis’ brows furrowed, all of his attention now dissipated into what he was going to say. Though he hated to admit he had a small idea of who it involved.

Jungkook stammered before glancing around the hallway and sighing. “It’s about the wedding night…”

-

The first thing she took off was her heavy earrings as they were led into one of the private rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Apparently Boyoung wanted to have a small word with the two of them before they went off to bed. Her limbs felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets with how exhausted she was. Who knew just wearing a heavy dress and walking around would take so much out of you.

Belle understand on a whole new level just how models felt having to create such a strong demeanor that even pain could not pass across their features. Hours spent on chatting people up and others admiring the now famous waistline on her dress. The girl loved the dress more because of the fact Saito made it just for her made her happy enough.

Jungkooks’ hand permanently set on the small of her back. The man had disappeared for a while during the party but from the way his face tensed when he walked back here, she knew it had to do with work.

The guide opened a door for them and they were led into a room similar to the one Belle dressed up in for the ceremony.

Giving a kind smile to the guide, she walked and placed her earrings on the small table next to the bathroom. For the moment the couple had finally stood on their lonesome with no one to disturb them.

The young lord took the opportunity to pounce at his new bride and take her lips into his.

Her veil toppled off her head from the force and Belle couldn’t help but giggle a little into the kiss. “Not now.” She whispered.

“A few minutes.” Jungkook breathed out pulling her veil off gently before pressing a few more pecks on her soft lips. Whatever strain tightened up his nerves significantly loosened being around his only source for relaxation.

Belle hummed in protest, pressing against his chest to have him pause. “Your aunt is going to be here in a few minutes. We need to be decent.”

Jungkook merely smirked and gave her another peck just at the moment the door opened.

Boyoung gave her nephew a cheeky smile as he backed shyly before closing the door behind them.

“What did you want to talk about?” Belle asked with a sweet smile gracing her lips.

The older woman let out a sigh but still kept a decent smile gracing her features. She looked over at Jungkook who hung his head for a moment. “Dear…” Her tone rung grim and serious. A rare sound coming from a lady who always looked extremely happy every day. Once again the usual habit of holding Belle’s hands when she spoke of something. “The Jeon family has been around for many generations. Possibly longer than the city itself.” Boyoung chuckled lightly. “So with that age and prestige, there comes…a few traditions that lived on for our family’s continual survival.”

Belle nodded, trying to search her expression with the hope that was just some simple task she had to undertake. Maybe eating more fruits or balancing stuff on her head. Except the other womans’ voice sounded far too serious for something like that. Eyes flickered over to Jungkook who had his arms folded over his chest and his expression softened.

“Family members must be married at 21…” Boyoung repeated the tradition the couple already fulfilled. “They also need to carry on the line of the Jeon family.” Her grip tightened on her hands. “Do you have any conditions that may prevent you from having a baby?”

She stammered lightly. “No—I don’t think so.”

Boyoung nodded before giving her a smile except it wasn’t as bright more consoling.

“Why are we talking about babies now?” Belle smiled nervously.

She glanced over at Jungkook for a moment who tightened his jaw, seemingly unable to look Belle straight in the eye. “You understand the world we live in, dear. At some point, you both will need to dedicate yourself to your own lives just like Jungkooks’ parents did. Which is why we make a point to marry and have children in their brisk days.”

Belle’s lips parted for a moment, sensing where this now dreaded conversation was headed. “When—when do you want us to have children?”

Boyoung took a deep breath as the younger female had the urge to yank her hands away. “There is a ceremony on the wedding night for every Jeon wedding. I’ve done it, Jungkooks’ mother has done it and many of our ancestors. You are to—lay with one another that will give you a child.” She spoke carefully. “Because of a few incidents in the past, there is a strict rule that this ceremony must have two witnesses. Preferably people that the couple trusts not to fib or lie about the consummation.”

Her whole body felt like it burst into flames but no one noticed or cared. A little voice inside her screamed out so loud, Belle was worried she might actually mimic the volume right there and then. She really thought this conversation would not happen until a few years after the wedding, maybe when her heart wore down to the subject. How much more of her naivety was going to be shredded to waste before she realized these people did not care who they hurt. Especially when it came to their ideals.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, dear but—we must prepare tonight.” She caressed her cheek.

Belle could almost feel a slight sting on her skin at the seemingly affectionate movement. Blood curdling screams still echoed through her insides but on the outside, she nodded as any captive trying to live would do. Just nod and hope it ends quick.

Boyoung immediately smiled using the minor response as a reassurance boost before grinning at Jungkook. “I will see you both bright and early tomorrow.” She announced walking out of the door.

The couple now standing in a pit of thick silence.

“You knew about this.” Belle whispered, eyes growing glossier by the second as they stood face to face with one another. “Is that the part you conveniently forgot? The part where I’m supposed to make children for you tonight too.” She winced while Jungkook was trying conjure up words that would be most appropriate to reassure her.

Unfortunately the way their family worked and the way society worked were so far off from each other that even he felt helpless against it. “Belle, we’ve been doing it without protection this whole time. What’s going to be so different now?”

“They want me to be impregnated!” She shouted making the male hurriedly glance over at the door worried someone might be listening in. “With witnesses…” She whispered under her trembling breath.

“Baby, calm down.” He raised his hands to cup her cheeks, give her some form of comfort that he could while still making Boyoung and the rest of his family happy.

Belle roughly pushed him away, her bracelet tinkling and tugging at the fabric of his shirt when she moved back. “No that’s why you chose me, isn’t it?” Voice shook down to her very core as she yanked away from Jungkook attempting to hold her hand. “You wouldn’t feel bad if I was in display as opposed to someone you actually cared about.”

The lord paused in his tracks for a moment feeling his heart clench at the dark thought swirling in his wifes’ head. “I don’t want to do this just as much as you, B.” His words faded more into a mutter trying to keep the conversation private because he knew with all his soul that there was one person pressing their ear against the door. Thankfully most of these doors in the mansion were decently sound-proof. “You think I want people to see us like that?” He grabbed her by the cheeks now forcing to keep her close, noses just brushing against each other. “This is my family. You should know more than anyone that we can do everything for family.”

“Don’t do that.” She shook her head, breathing out a small sob and attempting to pull away from him again but his hands were firm to keep her still. “Don’t do that, this is not the same. It’s a baby—”

“I know.” He whispered, her pulse pounding against his palm making his stomach drop. “I do care about you. I care about you a lot…”

“No you don’t—” Belle hated that she was not just feeling anger pump through her veins but fear. Genuine fear. The permanency of what they were about to do could terrify anyone but at least normal people had the chance to say no or turn back.

“I do.”

She took a deep breath gently pushed his hands away. “If you did care about me…we wouldn’t be married. And I wouldn’t be preparing to be bred like an animal.” Swallowing down the painful lump in her throat despite the tears already trailing down her cheeks. People cried at weddings after all but rarely for this reason.

Before Jungkook could say another word Belle rushed away into the bathroom, slamming the door so hard it almost made even him jump.

-

No. No no no no no no no no no this was wrong. Of all the fucking things Yoongi witnessed in his entire life, this made him nauseous even thinking about it.

Witnessing impregnation. That’s what they called it, the men quietly smoking at the open area near the bedroom it was going to happen. The excited bastards looked to be about the age when it was acceptable in their time to behave in this manner, chin sagging down to their toes.

So along with mass selling drugs, the Jeon family loved impregnating their women in front of other people. How unsurprisingly disappointing.

The worst part was that Yoongi had a feeling Belle wasn’t a long-time girlfriend of Jungkook. He wasn’t even sure if the two were a real couple. But a child is fucking real. This wasn’t a fantasy game anymore for status, this was solidifying a future that the woman probably didn’t even want.

Silence plunged into the room when from the corner of his eye a lavender adorned figure stepped in next to Jungkooks’ aunt.

His plump lips curled up into a smile at the older female, bowing down before a grim expression flashed across his face and Yoongi immediately knew why he was here.

Jimin looked around at the people in the room and his heart dropped seeing the chortling men at the corner. He prayed to the high heavens none of them were going to be in the booth observing this horrendous ceremony. Instead his eyes flickered to the man he hoped was Yoongi. “Witness?” He asked briefly. Much to his somewhat relaxation, Yoongi nodded.

“This your first time?” One of the older man asked the two males.

They both agreed shortly and the older man laughed.

“Oh it’s better than it sounds. In all my experiences, they both loved it. Sometimes it’s a sweet affair.” He smiled.

“And other times?” Yoongi asked daringly.

Unfortunately the men shifted uncomfortably, the slightly younger ones cleared their throats while the older ones looked more grim than normal.

“Virgins are the worst to endure.” The oldest one there spoke up, shaking and sitting on the chair. “Crying…blood…those are the ones you need to worry for the most.”

“We haven’t had a virgin in a long time though.” A more springy man spoke up. “A few of us suggested that the mating ceremony should not be mixed in with losing one’s virginity. Not much fun for the to-be mother or father.”

Yoongi swallowed down thickly, their casual tone about this whole mess making him even more nauseous.

The conversation was immediately paused when Boyoung padded back into the room. “It’s time now, boys. Into the booth.” She muttered almost under her breath gesturing towards to the gap on the left of the entrance.

Taking calculated steps one after the other, Yoongi simply followed the lavender adorned male through the small opening into a tiny booth. Their shoulders brushing against each other as they observed the beautiful designed window, vectors formulating the letter ‘J’ mixed with butterflies and flowers.

However through the window was something far less pleasant.

-

Silence diseased the large room. Belle was left to hear her own hurdling thoughts just to stay sane. From the corner of her eye she noticed the shifting through the open window with a designed barrier to create some kind of class to this horrid tradition.

His hand pushed her chin so her gaze could be fixated on him. “It’s just you and me, okay?” Jungkook whispered. “Just us.”

Like a brainwashing scheme where Belle was stuck in a river between a bank of fantasy and a bank of reality. They were not alone. She could feel the familiar eyes burning right into core. But what was so new about pretending? She pretended this to a point where her entire life was now dedicated to the man before giving no chance of another life.

If Jungkook couldn’t get out this then how could she ever think the same? It wasn’t like she could run away either, there was no one around to help her. No one to stop this.

Hand gently cupped her cheek before leaning in for an initiating kiss, light warmth spreading through her. His lips became so familiar for comfort nowadays that Belle lost a little of her conscious sense for her own peace of mind.

However this was not meant to be an act of love or even attraction. She was reminded of this when Jungkook pushed the fabric of her dress up without warning. “I’m sorry.” He whispered in her ear. No this was a responsibility. A chore to get done on a to-do list curated for the young lord.

Made to lie on her back, Belle’s vision grew blurry feeling her legs being spread apart with the utmost care but hardly any of the warmth she usually remembered. Then there came the burn through her entrance as he pushed in. A trembling breath passed through her lips struggling to keep composure in such a vulnerable position.

Walls ached the deeper he moved in, his one hand gripping at the sheets until his hips stilled once she was completely full with his already throbbing cock.

Her gaze flickered up to the cherry blossom paintings on the ceiling, pretending a cool spring breeze touching her face and the sound of water flowing. This isn’t real. For a second Belle forced herself to drown into a pool of fantasy. This wasn’t real. The pain faded minutes ago and so did her sense of consciousness.

She wasn’t here, arms pinned down by strong hands and hot breath cascading down her neck. No it was back at the boutique. Belle spending hours sewing her favourite daffodil yellow dress with a tall cup of iced coffee and her hair in a comfortable bun.

Her head was pulled back into reality when Jungkook pressed a kiss on her lips and it all poured back into her. Legs aching from the spread, her heat a little numb from the friction while no sound passed her lips except for light heaving.

Yoongi struggled to control his heavy breathing as the scene took place before him. The man felt like a prisoner witnessing his inmate being beaten. He just had to watch cruel reality play out it’s painful dance. Having the stomach for it was not his biggest issue. Except he knew Belle was not here out of unconditional love for Jungkook. He promised himself to always help people in need but truly aiding someone to freedom required a hefty journey in the process.

Right at this moment however that sentiment seemed like empty words.

This was not Belle’s world. The idea itself was what caused a pit in his already upset stomach. She didn’t grow up in this life nor did she choose it. It was never supposed to a part of her but now she had to deal with evil test of fate.

Jungkook intertwined his fingers with her loose ones, pressing reassuring pecks on her jawline as his hips snapped against hers. Sneaking a free hand between her legs he rubbed onto her clit hoping to give her some kind of pleasure while his own orgasm rolled to the edge.

A light tickle shot through her but stopped midway when she could feel him reaching his release. The way his face contorted and his thrusts grew desperate but sloppy.

This isn’t real. Fingers fisted at the sheets. This isn’t real. A light groan uttered under his breath. This isn’t real. More tears burning and gathering at her overflowing eyes.

This is real.

The man stilled as his release burst through his veins.

Her body lay compliant as she felt herself being filled up to the brim. Belle sucked onto her bottom lip, closing her eyes almost trying to turn back time somehow.

Jungkook hesitantly leaned in and tried to press a kiss on her cheek.

“Get off me.” She whispered. “Please.”

The male paused feeling a burning behind his eyes when she still tried to be kind despite what he did. Pulling out of her gently, Jungkook got off the bed with a shaky sigh curling his hands into fists when he couldn’t comfort her. How could he? He was the reason she needed comfort in the first place. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jungkook turned away to the bathroom.

Yoongi didn’t realize he had been gripping onto the grill of the window the whole time, until he felt something wet on his palms. When he pulled away it felt like taking a splinter out tiny little bleeding holes interrupting the lines.

His ears pricked up at the trembling sigh the other let out.

When he looked over at him, his cheeks were already stained with tears while a few more flooded at the brim watching Belle slowly shift to the middle of the bed. “I have—” The male whispered before swallowing down painfully. “I have to go to work after this.”

The both of them helplessly watched the girl shake and force herself to sob quietly as she fixed her dress.

“Please…go see if she’s okay. If you can.” The pleading look in Jimin’s eyes mimicked the ache in his exhausted heart. They both knew Belle didn’t deserve this mess. They both witnessed her kindness and now saw her pain.

Yoongi nodded even though it was clear there was nothing any of them could do for her right now. Not at this moment. God if he could just tell him right there and then that he was trying his best to help her out of here.

But when he saw the way Belle curled into herself and tried to take to deep breaths while tears were still streaming down her face.

He knew he had to do a whole fucking more than his best.

-

Two nights later.

Sun felt warm on her skin, shoes crunched against the pavement as she relished in the murmurs and cheers of the market. How long had it been since the woman had just walked through this corner of wonders? All the high fashion shows, sleek garments and elegant wear were almost nothing compared to the raw simplicity of the red cotton or hand crafted jade jewelry. Belle remembered how she used to create necklaces out of flowers and little stones giving it to Taehyung as a gift because he was the only one who would accept it.

No matter how high she went in this pillar of success, this still brought a warmth in her heart without fail.

Wandering eyes paused on one clothing stall in particular. Padding closer, she saw the smallest pair of yellow shoes shining in the sunny day just at the edge of the display. A smile tugged at her lips when she noticed tiny daisy details embroidered onto it. Carefully the woman picked the pair up almost worried that it might fall apart because they looked so delicate and innocent.

“You have child?” The lady at the stall smiled at her kindly as she waved herself with a fan to waft away the heat.

Belle smiled, relishing the soft fabric under her fingers pads almost acting as a therapeutic substance. “Not yet.” She chuckled softly. “How much is this?”

The lady boxed the shoes up carefully before handing it to her with a bracelet for free. When Belle tried to refuse, she waved it off with that same sweet smile. “It’s for good fortune.”

With slight reluctance the girl thanked her again and moved onto the other stalls. As her eyes wandered, she stopped at the sight of a familiar figure walking out of the market area towards a pay phone. Forehead knitted and curiosity peeking, Belle moved to the more crowded areas so she could see what was happening without being caught. Sneaking around was not the most elegant behavior but at this point, the girl lost all care of what was proper and improper.

Pausing behind the payphone Belle hugged the bag to her chest finally catching Yoongis’ voice speak into the call.

“Jeon family is more traditional than you think, man. They had witnesses to watch the consummation.” Anger was clear in his tone especially in the way it rasped a little more when he tried to lower his volume. “Jungkook handpicked the damn witnesses, what kind of fucked up family is this?”

Belle felt a strange air of relief hearing someone else say those words other than her screaming it over and over again in her mind. Despite the urge to thank him for reassuring her sanity, she stood still to listen when he spoke up again.

“Jungkook is adding extra security to the Gongneung den, all his strongest supplies are there. He knows there’s rats in his empire so we need to get this done before he finds a way to hide all of it again.” His voice was much lower than before.

The woman still caught all the words that were needed however. Heart pounded against her ribcages padding closer to the payphone until the worry of Yoongi seeing her did not resonate anymore.

Yoongi gave a few more words of encouragement to Namjoon before doing his checks again and the sound around him numbed. He saw a familiar reddened and teary gaze fixated on him. For a moment he wanted to believe that she just arrived not hearing a word of their conversation but he knew better than to be so naïve.

Before he could think up a strategy, Belle rushed over to the male in a huff and stood merely a breath away from him with her back pressed slightly against the phone. There was a flash of anger on her face before it faded into something that made Yoongi wish the anger could come back again so he could endure it better.

“You’re a police officer?” Bottom lip trembled and her already exhausted eyes flooded with heavy tears. “And you just watched that happen?” Belle knew why Yoongi couldn’t just burst into the room and stop the event just like she couldn’t stop Jungkook or Boyoung from going on with tradition. But the sensible side of her lost its way that night and now the girl found it far too difficult to find it.

“If I could, I would’ve shot all of them right there and then.” He murmured feeling his stomach drop at the way her voice couldn’t keep any of its usual composure anymore. “I want you to get out of this. I really do. But we need to—we need to work together if this is ever going to stop.” His words dialed down to a whisper now that their faces were merely a breath apart. It took a few minutes for him to realize that his hand was caressing her cheek, sloppily wiping away the tear that flowed down to his thumb.

How long had it been since she wanted to hear someone say those words? Someone that could help her get out of this. A part of her would have agreed in seconds, for the first time falling into another’s arms and feeling like she did not have to do anything. But the tiny yellow shoes in the bag grew heavy on her. “Yoongi—” Belle breathed out staring down at her purchase, hands shaking.

Confused eyes flickered down to follow her gaze and immediately saw the miniscule box inside the bag. “What’s wrong?” He opted to search her expression now. “Belle?” Some side of his mind tried to shout that his hand should be back in his pocket. If anyone saw the two standing this way then they would both be in trouble and none of this would be worth it. But she felt so warm and broken that he was afraid they both would fall apart if he moved even the slightest away.

Belle stammered trying to form the words somehow before sniffling. “I’m pregnant.” She sobbed lightly.

The news lingered heavily in the air between them and Yoongi felt like the wall of his mind close into this one thing. All of the things—all of these goals now stripped down to these two words that he prayed would not be true. He knew it might be possibility. He saw the whole thing happen with his own two eyes but for some reason a more naïve part of him—whatever was left of it—wanted to believe they had time. Yoongi took a deep breath before shaking his head. “It’s okay…we’ll figure it out.” He made her meet his gaze. “We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

She closed her eyes, nodding while her tears seemed to take their own freedom down her face. “Okay.” Words came out in a whisper.

The older male couldn’t help but mimic her nodding for a moment, slowly moving his hand away and hoping no one in the town recognized them. “Do you need a ride home?”

Quickly the girl shook her head feeling an ache in her belly calling the place ‘home’. It would be their child’s home. She would have to accept that someday. “Can we—” She glanced over at the bustling market. “Can we walk through the market for a little bit?” A sad smile tugged at her lips though her eyes glinted with desperation to capture any sense of false joy that came across the path.

Yoongi swallowed a small, unexpected lump in his throat before glancing at the market. “Yeah…of course.”

Maybe a few more minutes of blinded excitement could redeem that little piece of sanity.

<< PREV CHAP | NEXT CHAP >>

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

Dean is starting to realize that having choices doesn’t always make things easy.

When he was a kid, he never had a choice--he had to follow along with what his dad wanted, getting revenge, like it would be a rescue mission for their family. Even when John Winchester was long gone, though, Dean still didn’t have a choice; he had to keep going, had to get whatever was out there before it got him. Save the world. Avert the apocalypse. Defeat God. Over and over and over again, Dean had to do these things, and when the puppet strings were finally cut, he thought he’d get peace.

In a way, he was right. His life’s a hell of a lot more peaceful than before--he hunts when he wants to, because he wants to, not because of some crazy sense of duty that used to make him work himself to the bone. He has a house, now--he’ll never regret the bunker, his first true home since a long-burned house in Lawrence, but it’s nice to wake up to sunshine and walk outside and have an honest-to-god deck. Then there’s the whole deal with Cas--Dean had told Jack once that love can get crazier than that, and apparently it can get crazy enough for Dean to journey to the literal void and haul Cas out by the lapels of his trench coat.

(That trench coat now hangs in their closet. It’s not used as often but if it’s a blustery day, Cas still puts it on. Dean likes that Cas has other clothes now, although the first time he saw him in just a t-shirt he was pretty sure he’d actually died and made it to heaven.)

But part of having a choice, part of having freedom, is realizing how fucked up some of the shit before that freedom was. 

Which is why Dean’s been going to therapy.

“I hate it,” he admitted to Cas one night in bed, when they were curled up together, after the fourth or fifth appointment. “It’s supposed to make me feel better, right? But I just feel like she flipped me inside out.”

He said that, but he still goes, because after the inside-out feeling comes some kind of weird clarity where Dean’ll randomly drop his knife while he’s cooking and get all teary-eyed for reasons that having nothing to do with the onions he’s caramelizing. 

And right now, Dean’s especially glad for the patient counseling of Veronica Matthews, Psy.D., because he can’t think. 

He’s at the grocery store, like he is practically every week (when you’re feeding two adults, one adult-sized toddler, and your brother and his girlfriend visit your house near-constantly, plus your sorta-daughter and her girlfriend regularly crash on the couch on the way to hunts, you go through a lot of food), so it’s not any different than normal. Dean’s got the list, carefully written in Cas’s cramped handwriting--milk, eggs, cereal, beer, pasta, it goes on and on. 

(Ice cream is written at the bottom in Jack’s messy scribble, too.)

And Dean’s been going through the store the same way he always does, aisle by aisle, carefully scanning the list that Cas has organized by type of food. He’s going to get some wine in addition to the beer, he thinks, even though it’s not on the list, because Sam secretly likes merlot better than a pale ale, even if he’ll never admit it. 

Then a family walks by, a mom and a dad and a little girl sitting in the basket holding a stuffed rabbit and a slightly older boy walking beside the cart, poking his sister, and Dean hears a snippet of their chatter. They’re planning a barbecue for the little girl’s birthday, apparently, inviting the extended family. It’s so fucking normal, a scene Dean’s seen played out in the grocery store dozens of times, little kids begging their dads for cupcakes or moms carefully choosing what kind of vegetables their kids will like, but it plunges him into cold water, and he freezes up, white-knuckling the grocery cart’s push handle. 

Dean’s not sure how long he stands there in front of the cans of peas, feet glued to the ground, but then he remembers Dr. Matthews’ advice. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten. Exhales. Does that again. 

He’s at the grocery store. He’s not a kid anymore, stealing food because his mom’s dead and his dad’s well on the way, half-drunk on sorrow and all the way drunk on booze. He has a family waiting for him--Cas. Jack. Sam--Sam is safe. Sam is happy. Sam’s not going to starve. Eileen. Claire. Kaia--the list is longer than he thought. 

He’s safe. 

Dean lets out a final breath and pushes the cart past the canned vegetables, on his way to decide what kind of ice cream Jack might like. Maybe birthday cake. Something colorful with way too much sugar. 

Dean is starting to realize that having choices means he doesn’t have to do all of this alone.

[vindicatedvirgil]

snowstorms & spite

Summary: Remus, idiotic as ever, ventures out during a snow storm after a fight with his husband. But their old car can’t handle the weather, so Janus has to trek out to rescue the love of his life. Spitefully, of course.

Ship: Married Dukeceit/Crime Husbands (Remus x Janus)

Warnings: marital spat, discussions of growing their family, mentions of parental Prinxiety to Remy and of parental Logicality to Emile, cursing, getting trapped in a snowstorm, christmas morning

Word Count: 1900

Author’s Note: This is a holiday gift fic for one of my best friends @5-falsehoods-phonated!! I hope you enjoy the crime husbands following in your footsteps of a snow adventure.

The highlighted lyrics while they’re in their cars are songs from each of their playlists. For Remus it’s Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen, and for Janus it’s Evil Night Together by Jill Tracy. I tried to combine them near the end, I hope it worked. Thanks to Abby for daring me to add Evil Night Together in and to both Cat and Abby from Discord for helping me figure out which Remus playlist song to add in.

---

“I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation,” Janus’ voice was rising in volume slowly, his hands clenched at his sides as he stood in the kitchen, a few feet away from his husband. “Re, we’ve been married for six months! I’d love to have this conversation in another year or two, truly, but I love where you and I are right now, just us, in this beautiful house, together.”

“It’s just, spending time around Remy and Emile, seeing how amazing the others are doing as parents… it makes me want us to try, too…” Remus carded a hand through his already messy hair. He had been babysitting Roman and Virgil’s recently adopted 2-year-old, Remy, and he was absolutely smitten. But he’d be even more smitten if it was his own child. And only a few weeks ago, the couple had babysat Logan and Patton’s infant, Emile, and while it was tough, Remus knew he was ready. “If we start the paperwork now, it will take two years, I don’t want to wait another year to start this process. You and I both know how long it took and how difficult it was for Ro and Virgil, and yeah, Lo and Pat got lucky, but…”

“What if we got lucky, Re? Before we’re ready?” Janus countered, and Remus glanced down at his feet. “It’s not that I don’t want kids someday, you know I do. But… I’m not ready, yet. Soon, I will be, but…” He glanced out the kitchen window, watching the snow spin around in the blustery winds. “I’ve got probably a year or two until I make Partner. I want things to be stable if we bring a kid into this mess.”

“Fuck, Janus, can’t you see? A kid would add to our mess in the best of ways,” Remus wanted to grab something and throw it, but he closed his eyes instead, taking deep breaths like his therapist had instructed whenever his anger bubbled up. “I need some air.”

“Air? Remus, there’s a fucking snowstorm going on out there! You can’t go out there right now!” Janus’ voice sounded panicky, and it almost stopped Remus in his tracks. Almost. Instead, Remus stomped out of the kitchen, and Janus could hear as he shuffled into shoes and a coat, grabbed keys, and slammed the front door behind him. Distantly, he heard the roar of the engine of Remus’ old car, until it sped away. 

Janus sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table, his head buried in his hands and his elbows propped up on the wooden surface. He wanted to give Remus everything he wanted, but Remus had a tendency to jump into things without thinking. Their whole relationship had been a series of fast decisions, and while Janus loved the spontaneity at times, sometimes it was too fast. Hell, they’d gotten engaged after only a few months of dating, and it took pushing from Janus for them to wait a year after the engagement for the wedding. Part of Janus wondered if one day, his husband would just decide to leave, and without much thought, pack his bags and go, never to be seen again.

-

Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time, I feel alive, And the world I'll turn it inside out, yeah

The music faded into the background as soon as it had started. Remus gripped the steering wheel as tight as he could, blinking away the tears that stung at his eyes. His whole life was a series of disappointments, relationships that ended too quickly or family members that shunned him for being strange. Janus was the first person to see him, truly see him for all that he was, and from that first moment the two held their hands together, Remus knew he would never let go. His relationship with his twin had always been a fraught one, and his childhood was full of pent-up anger and a depression that seeped into every part of his life.

But Janus changed all of that, helping Remus start therapy, with his anger management exercises, being a constant good presence in his life. Remus was ready to put these things into practice, was ready to give a kid the childhood that he never got to have. It would bring more stability to his life.

Was that a stupid reason to want to become a parent? Maybe. But Janus usually made all of his stupid decisions seem reasonable. Until now. This was their first big fight since getting married, and the only other big fight of their relationship was when Remus tried to get Janus to elope the week after proposing. In hindsight, waiting until they had saved up to put a down payment on a house was the right call.

Remus tore through the empty streets of their small town, the realization dawning over him like the way the sun pours over their roof every morning. Janus was the stability that Remus had needed his whole life, and if they needed to wait until Janus felt prepared to bring a child into their lives, then Remus would do it. Even if it took a decade. For Janus, Remus would do anything.

Of course, right as he was going to make a u-turn to head back to the house, the car slammed into a snowbank and shut off. Remus banged his head back on the headrest, groaning as he grabbed his phone out of the center console, quickly calling his husband. 

“Re? You okay?” His husband’s voice on the other line was laced with concern, and Remus felt a pang of guilt at this. 

“I’m okay, I just, uh, hit a snowbank and the car gave out on me,” Remus explained rather sheepishly. “Can you come give me a jump, babe?” He heard shuffling in the background, and a clank of keys, and he knew that Janus was already in shoes and a coat, heading out to his car. “I’m near the junction of 4th and 9th.”

“I’ll be there in five,” Janus said, and then the line cut out, and Remus was plunged back into silence and darkness, the snow covering his windshield. He leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his realization.

Even if Janus decided he never wanted kids, that would be okay with Remus. Janus would always be more than enough for him.

-

I'll hold your hand while they drag the river, I’ll cuddle you in the undertow

Janus’ car sped through the dark streets, his heart refusing to settle. Snowstorms were dangerous, and Remus knew that, and he still went out and drove, and he could have gotten hurt, and then Janus would be alone again, and that would have destroyed him. Not now, not when they were talking about expanding their family, not when they’d only been married for a short time, it wasn’t long enough, it would never be long enough. Janus would never survive the loss of his husband.

I'll keep my hand on your trigger finger, I'll take you down where the train tracks go

And then it hit Janus, as if he had been pelted with a snowball right in his splotchy face. He’d do anything for Remus, to make his husband happy, to be with him for their whole lives. 

Let's wile away the hours, Let's spend an evil night together

He drove to park right next to Remus’ car, and then the couple exited their respective vehicles, Janus gripping the jumper cables tightly. Remus stood sheepishly by his car, the hood propped open, and Janus propped his open, attaching the cables. He worked in silence, not giving a glance to his husband, because what was the protocol when your husband, who stormed out in the middle of a fight, needed his car jumped? Janus didn’t know. Waiting until they were back home to finish their discussion was probably the best option at this point. 

They quickly got Remus’ car back up and running, and Remus stood awkwardly, watching Janus remove the cables. “Janus-” “Let’s just head home and get out of these cold clothes, okay? Then we can talk. I’ll follow you just in case,” Janus responded curtly, and he got back into his car. He watched as Remus got into his car and began driving home, and then followed him closely, their speeds definitely lower than they had been on their way to the location. 

Who's gonna make you a hero, Who's gonna blow you away, Who's gonna make you a hero

I'm travelling at the speed of light, I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

-

Once they got home, they quietly went up to their bedroom, changing out of their clothes and into warm pajamas, and then the couple found themselves silently sitting on the couch, the fireplace warming the room slowly. 

“Janus, I had a realization,” Remus said suddenly, turning to look at his husband. He took one of Janus’ hands in both of his. “I don’t need to start a family, I have you. I thought that I needed more stability, but you’re everything that I could need… I know I jump into things a lot, but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and losing you isn’t an option. Whatever I can do to keep you by my side, I’ll do it.” Janus glanced at where their hands met, because the tears were threatening to fall and he didn’t want to look at his husband, not when he was saying such wonderful things, because he knew he’d turn into a blubbering mess.

“Re, when you called, I-” he paused, taking a deep breath; he didn’t want his words to come out in gasps. “I thought something had happened to you. And my first thought was that we haven’t had enough time together, but I don’t think any amount of time together will ever be enough, not with you. Whatever it takes, Re. I’m in this with you for the long haul.”

-

Janus’ eyes flickered open, and he felt around to where he thought Remus would be. But the bed was empty and cold, and he shivered, sitting up and glancing around the bedroom. He could hear music playing in the front room, and he could smell coffee brewing and… bacon? 

And then he realized; Christmas morning had come. It had been a few weeks since the snowstorm. Conversations had been had, websites had been glanced at, but in the end, the couple had decided that waiting was the best option for now. Until that day where they decided to become parents, they’d live vicariously through babysitting their friends’ children, and they’d enjoy their nights curled up in front of the fire.

Janus slowly got out of bed, wrapping his robe around himself tightly, then padded down the stairs to find the tree lit up, a fire in the fireplace, and his husband, setting mugs of coffee and plates full of breakfast food on the coffee table.

“Babe, you should have stayed in bed a little longer,” Janus murmured, coming up behind him, wrapping his arms around Remus’ torso. Remus leaned back, a soft grunt coming from him before he spun around in Janus’ arms, their lips finally meeting.

“Merry Christmas, Jan,” Remus whispered, and Janus smiled, leaning in to kiss his husband again.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

---

if you liked this, please consider reblogging! it helps creators like me get their work noticed by more folks.

[masterlist] [AO3]

[tranquilwellness]

Choosing the appropriate therapies can have a significant impact on preserving one's physical and mental well-being. There are several wellness clinics in Jacksonville, Florida, that provide cutting-edge treatments aimed at revitalizing the skin, mind, and body. You can benefit yourself and improve your wellness journey, whether you're looking for a microdermabrasion facial near me in Jacksonville, a hydrafacial near me in Jacksonville, or want to explore therapies like these. Read this blog to learn the ultimate guide to wellness treatments in Jacksonville.

[ot5ismyhome]

2. Falling

To read from the beginning click here.

*****

Wanda woke up from her sleep screaming. She looked around her trying to figure out where she was. Slowly the reality set in. She cradled her head on her knees and started crying. She had dreamed of Pietro dying again. The pain was raw and powerful. Every time the pain felt like it was the first time. Every night she dreams of him dying in different ways. But always one thing was the same. She would be standing a few feet away. Not able to do anything. Useless. Her bedroom door opened and Steve walked in. He would always come when she woke up screaming. He sat near her and put an arm around her. She leaned into his touch on instinct. He held her as she cried. He never asked any questions. She sobbed uncontrollably till her eyes ran dry. She wanted to spend the whole day curled up in bed. She didn’t want to do anything.

Wanda had lost the will to care about many things in her life. Throughout her life, she and Pietro had been together. It had always been them against the world. Now she stands alone. She didn’t know who she was. They had always been ‘we’ and now suddenly she lost it. She felt she never knew the meaning of ‘I’. She didn’t know how to process that. She didn’t know how to accept that. She had lost a part of herself and nothing could make her whole again. She desperately wished for a second chance. If she could only travel back in time. Or if only this was a nightmare, she would wake up any minute now.

The passing of time didn’t bring any solace to Wanda’s situation. It’s been a month and there was no end to nightmares. Her abandoned phone lying on the night table caught her attention. She plugged into charge and switched it on. As soon as she opened her, the wallpaper of her and her brother filled the screen. She went through the gallery. It was filled with photos of her and Pietro. She couldn’t believe how much her life had changed. She, Pietro and Thompson regularly visited various bars. She lingered over the photo taken at Steve’s party. Her eyes started stinging. She kept scrolling and stopped at the photo they had taken two years back on their birthday. The twins had thrown a small party and invited their friends to Jupiter Disco. Something struck inside her as she pulled on a simple outfit and made her way out into the city. The cold evening wind stroked her bare face adding a red blush to her cheeks and neck.

Wanda entered the bar and looked around. She had no idea what made her do it but she went along. She perched on the bar stool and ordered a drink. She ordered drinks after drinks and drowned it. She didn’t know how much she had been drinking but the alcohol wasn’t bringing any solace. She wanted to relive the happy memories but her alcohol meddled brain felt numb. She wanted to feel Pietro’s presence. She wanted to be engulfed in his hug and feel safe. She wanted to hold him back and protect him. Her eyes started watering; she pressed back her tears and drowned her drink. When the bartender cut off her drink and replaced it with water, she wanted to shout at him. She got up from her bar stool but stumbled down.

Wanda woke up the next day, her head throbbing in pain. She saw a jug of water by her bedside table. She poured herself a glass and drowned it. She swallowed an aspirin with water. She made her way to the living room. It was deserted. Steve would have left for the company she thought. She went into the kitchen. She wanted to resist it but huger overcame her. She hadn’t eaten well for the past week. She went through the fridge looking for something to eat. She saw a sticky note saying ‘Breakfast. Please eat’ on the top of a covered bowl. Wanda opened it to see berry salad. She devoured the food, not minding to chew.

Having no memory of the previous night didn’t bother her much like it should have. She spent the day lounging on the couch flipping through various channels not interested in anything. She fell asleep on the couch only to wake up in the late evening. The house was plunged into darkness. She didn’t mind turning on the light as she went to her room. She pulled the first dress she could reach from her closet and changed. She locked the door on the way out and went to Jupiter Disco again.

…..

Steve smelled the alcohol as soon as he entered the house. He found Wanda crying in Pietro’s room, hugging his shirt. He thought to talk to her about her new addiction to prevent it from growing but seeing the broken trembling figure in front of him he couldn’t bring himself. He was glad that she had found her way home instead of passing out in the bar like the day before. His heart pained when he saw Wanda in that state. He decided to talk to her the next day. But Steve became caught up in work in his office and was spending less time with Wanda. Her trips to the bar continued as she paid no heed to his words.

Steve got a call to pick up Wanda from the same bar. This time she was conscious and waiting for him. Seeing him she stumbled towards him, but was steadied by the woman next to her. She had blonde hair and a strand was coloured purple. Her eyes shone bright, showing that she was sober. She steadied Wanda and helped her walk.

“Steeeeeve, you came” Wanda drawled.

“Yeah, kid. Now let’s get in the car. Let’s go home” he said softly. He turned to the new woman and offered her thanks. He opened the door to the passenger seat to let Wanda in. As she was going to step in, she was stopped by the other woman.

Steve looked at her quizzically, trying to understand what is happening.

“I could only let her go, if you prove you’re her friend” she said sternly.

Steve took out his licence and extended it towards the woman. “You can check her phone; I will be in her emergency contacts” he offered.

The woman gave a nod and returned it. “I know. I was the one who called. Just wanted to make sure, she will be okay.”

Steve gave a small nod as he helped Wanda into the car. Wanda was almost passed out when he tried to talk, so he let it slide again. It had been about three months since Pietro’s death. Wanda was falling into the pit of alcoholism and Steve wasn’t able to stop her. It pained him to see her waste her life away. He had tried to talk to her multiple times about therapy but she always shuts him down.

…..

As Steve came out of the café with Bucky, he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

After parting ways with Bucky in the café, Steve drove home. On his way he got a message from Koenig that the manager of Jupiter Disco called. Steve arrived at the bar to see Wanted sitting in the side walk staring into the distance. The security was eyeing her warily. Seeing Steve, she jumped to her feet but lost her balance and collapsed down. She started laughing and didn’t try to move from the road. He quickly picked her up and supported her.

The manager came out and walked directly to Steve.

“Mr. Roger, I didn’t expect you to come in person,” he said sounding surprised.

“What’s the issue?”

The manager filled in on the happening. When the bartender had cut off her alcohol, Wanda had put on a fight. She had tried to punch him and grab the bottle from his hand. They had called the security to escort her out. Having discovered, she worked at The Roger’s Innovative, the manager had decided to give Steve a call before involving the police.

Steve’s anger grew with each passing second. He couldn’t believe that Wanda had gone to this extent and he partly blamed himself. He said to the manager that he will handle the situation. As soon as they got in the car, he wanted to shout at her instead he bit his tongue. He waited a few minutes to calm down.

“Wanda” he called her. His voice was neutral showing no emotion.

Wanda ignored him staring out of the window.

“Please don’t ignore me. I want you to listen to me” he said a bit firmly. She turned to look at him. Her eyes showed she was indifferent to his words.

Steve tried to push his luck to make her see the mess she was right now. He tried to talk sense into her but it was to no avail. She ignored him other than the occasional glances she threw in his direction. When they arrived at her apartment, she got out and quickly made her way upstairs. Steve wasn’t ready to give up so he followed her.

“Are you going to respond something?” he asked as he closed the apartment door. He tried to hide the annoyance in his words but it was slowly creeping in.

Wanda who had been silent the whole ride, broke down. She let her anger get the better of her. His pestering throughout the ride had been annoying enough. She hoped he would leave her alone once they arrived at her home.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY? I DON’T THINK THERE IS ANYTHING TO TALK STEVE. YOU ASKED TO GO OUT AND LIVE MY LIFE. I AM DOING THAT. I AM HAVING FUN. IF YOU WANT TO STOP ME YOU CAN AS WELL TRY BUT I AM NOT LISTENING TO YOU”

“I’m telling you for your own good. You need therapy.”

“MY OWN GOOD? DON’T YOU FUCKING ACT LIKE YOU CARE ABOUT ME. I’M NOT READY TO ACCEPT THAT LIE FOR EVEN FOR ONE MORE SECOND. YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT ME. YOU DIDN’T CARE ABOUT PIETRO. YOU NEVER CARED ABOUT US. IF YOU HAD CARED ENOUGH YOU WOULDN’T HAVE LET HIM DIE. HE DIED BECAUSE HE TRIED TO SAVE YOU. IT WAS YOU WHO SHOULD BE DEAD. NOT HIM. Not him” she whispered the last part again as she sank to her knees.

Every word out of Wanda’s mouth stung Steve like million needles striking his body at once. He would be lying if he hadn’t blamed himself for Pietro’s death. He had come to accept that it was out of his control and he wasn’t responsible for the kid’s death. But her words still hurt him.

Steve softly rested his hand on her shoulder to console her.

“Don't,” she said curtly, jerking away. She got up and went to Pietro’s room and locked herself in. Steve decided to not follow her and give her some space.

*****

Chapter 3

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Creed Imagine: PRT TWO

“It’s either me or Bianca”

“Y/N, girl, I know you’re in the damn house your car is outside.”

That doesn’t mean anything she could have taken an uber somewhere. Y/N hated driving.

Knock knock knock

“Y/N.”

She looked back at The Shade Room post again scrolling through the paparazzi photos of Bianca in London sitting on her drummers lap tonguing him down while his hands cupped her small perky ass. Both of them were cheating motherfuckers.

“This shit is tired, Y/N,” She could hear Adonis’s body slump against the door, “I know what your thinking...just open the door and say that shit to my face.”

She opened the door alright, Adonis falling flat on his back into her apartment. He shot up off the ground abruptly groaning in pain. She just gave him a coy smile with her heart-shaped lips while resting her hands on her naked hips. She was only wearing a Nike sports bra and yoga pants. He closed the door to her Urban loft, walking past her and practically yanking his North Face puffer jacket from his body.

“What the fuck was that for?” Adonis kicked off his shoes and made his way to her open kitchen placing his phone on the kitchen island. Damn, this nigga was so comfortable like they didn’t have an argument the night before.

“Felt like you deserved it Creed,” she rolled her eyes at Adonis while walking past him to pick up her shot of espresso.

“Yeah, okay,” Adonis drummed his fingers on the counter while staring Y/N down hungrily, “So are you gonna tell me I told you so and that I’m a dumb motherfucker?”

“Why should I remind you?” She licked some espresso from her lips, “Listen, make this shit quick I have some clients coming over for some hair and I have to go into the shop today.”

His jaw tightened and he gave her that knock a nigga out look. The look that he always gave her when she was being a brat and when he was deep in that pussy.

“Well?!” She raised her voice, “I ain’t got all day, Donnie.”

“I’m sorry,” He spoke with a grunt, “I’m sorry I did you like that last night. Yeah...I already knew about B cheating...I knew for a minute but I didn’t call her out on her bullshit because I was fucking with you. Anyway, this the second time she-“

“Second?” Y/N chuckles, “So...the guy from before isn’t the drummer?”

“Nah,” Adonis rolls his eyes before picking up an apple from Y/N’s fruit basket, “THAT'S what’s fucking me up right now.”

“Wow.” Y/N shook her head slowly, “y’all need therapy.”

Adonis mugged Y/N, “Really? That’s how we’re doing this?”

“I mean,” she shrugged with a dry laugh, “Yeah. You still love her, you don’t love me since I’m only good for my pussy, you both have a daughter to care for, I’m just...”

“Just what?” He squinted angrily at her.

Y/N placed her cup in the sink, “Listen, D, let’s just be honest with ourselves, okay? We both want to fuck each other. You came here expecting me to sooth you and fuck you, possibly lick away your tears and me,” she pointed to herself while walking up to Adonis, “I just want some dick.”

Adonis opened his mouth to speak but Y/N placed a finger over his plush lips.

“Stop talking and gimmie some dick, Adonis.”

She didn’t want to hear a word he had to say. She was gonna get what the fuck she wanted. Y/N was tired of Adonis taking advantage of her. She was going to call the shots now. Bianca was the least of her problems. Fuck her honestly. Amara was such a precious baby that didn’t deserve this. Two busy parents shoved her into a baby sitter's arms. Fucking sad. She loves Adonis and Y/N knows he loves her too from that intimate evening but at this moment she felt like an ice queen. He didn’t deserve the sweet Y/N right now.

“That’s what this is, right?” She literally yanked her sports bra from her chest. Her C-cup breasts bounced free and Donnie’s eyes damn near fell out of his head. She pressed her chest into his solid one before shoving him into the kitchen island hard. Donnie grunted in pain while his hard eyes glared at her. Y/N held his gaze, her hands pulling her yoga pants off and tossing those over the counter. Adonis raised a single brow at her. No panties under those yoga pants. No wonder why that thick ass jiggled so much.

“Ima take what I want,” she got down on her knees, pulling Donnie’s sweat pants and briefs down. He was already hard and ready to be sucked.

“Damn, Y/N,” Adonis took in a sharp breath when Y/N’s warm tight lips wrapped around him snuggly. The sounds of her sucking and gagging bounced off the kitchen walls. Donnie’s lip poked out and his eyes became slits as he watched her take what she wanted. Damn, this bitch was the truth. She sucked Donnie all the way down with no hands since they were planted on the sides of the kitchen island to keep her balance.

“You’re taking that shit, Y/N, damn, girl,” Adonis reaches out to grab her hair but Y/N smacked his hand away harshly saying, “DONT touch me.”

She swallows his dick again. Adonis whispers oh my God.

“Fuck, you got my dick so wet,” Adonis pulls his black long sleeve shirt up to rest under his chin, “why you sucking on my dick like that?”

She didn’t even care to answer him. All she cared about was swallowing this big dick asshole. She popped her mouth off using one hand to jerk his sloppy dick while her mouth sucked on his tight balls. He almost buckled from that. Y/N had his ass.

“Damn, fuck, shit,” He placed his bottom lip between his teeth, “I’m cumming don’t waste my shit, bitch.”

“Gimmie my shit then, nigga,” Her lips found the swollen tip of his thick veiny dick. He pulsates in her warm wet mouth before his thick load filled her throat up. She didn’t flinch. Y/N gulped. His hands came up to squeeze the sides of the counter to control the tremors. He looks so beautiful when he cums.

“Nasty little thing.”

She licks some cum from her lips, “eat this pussy,” she takes one of her legs and plopped it right on top of the kitchen island. Y/N takes her fingers to pull her phat pussy lips apart. The brown color of her gel polish looked so pretty wet while rubbing that beautiful pussy. Adonis came down on his knees, grabbing Y/N’s thigh to keep it up so she wouldn’t move. He takes his tongue to lick all of that honey that soaked her folds. Y/N’s hand cupped the back of Donnie’s neck, pushing his face in further. His lips sucked and kissed her all over. Y/N’s toes curled and her nails painfully dragged along Donnie’s neck. He was going to be scarred from that.

“Eat this pussy,” She was growing weak and almost fell to the floor. Adonis got up from the kitchen floor, picked Y/N up, and put her on the counter. She wanted that pussy ate from the back so Y/N carefully got on her knees on the counter and arched forward placing her pussy in Donnie’s face. Adonis slapped her ass twice before his mouth was back on her pussy. Y/N’s cheek rested against the cold ceramic countertop of the kitchen island.

“Damn, you’re eating that thang, mmm,” She reaches back to grab the top of Donnie’s head, “You miss the taste of this pussy?”

“Fuck, yes,” Adonis spoke into her juicy pussy.

“I bet you do, Mr. Creed,” she said with a harsh tone, “The way you eating this pussy I know you miss this.”

Adonis slaps her cheeks again from how bratty she was being.

“Yeah, suck on that juicy clit,” Her eyelids fluttered, “slurp this pussy.”

Y/N was pumping him up like she was cheering on the sidelines at a fight. He was going harder and harder the more she talked and now she could only moan.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she froze. Adonis was drinking her dry. She clawed the countertop while her ass shook in his face from her orgasm.

“Fuck, baby,” Adonis licked his lips and wiped his chin, “Tastes just as sweet as I remembered.”

“And don’t you forget,” Y/N turned and wrapped her legs around Adonis bringing him closer to her while she sat on the kitchen island. Her lips wrapped around his bottom lip to suck the taste of her pussy off then her tongue slithered into his open mouth for more. They had a heated kissing session with moans and sucking of lips. Adonis pulls away, his lips and nose wet from how hard they were kissing, taking off his shirt. There was that rock hard body her favorite boxer had.

“C’ mere,” she whispered, “Bring that body and that dick to me.”

He came back to her and picked her up from that counter. Like a magnet that can’t be separated their lips were back on each other with desperation. Y/N could feel Adonis rub her slick folds with that thick tip of his. She moved her hips to cause some friction on her clit. Adonis has one hand wrapped in her weave while the other wrapped tightly around her slim thick body.

“You ain’t fucking me yet,” Y/N whispers in Donnie’s ear. His lips attacked her neck to distract her so she wouldn’t see it coming. And she didn’t. He plunged into her so sharp her body curled up and shook. She clawed Donnie’s back and stared into his eyes with hankering desire. His dick was so rock-hard. He really was horny for Y/N when he came knocking on her door. The heels of her tiny feet nudged his back each time he entered her wetness. Y/N’s arms came back to grasp the kitchen island. The muscles in her back shook as Adonis literally wrecked her pussy. He handled her little body with hard-hearted strokes. Like she said, they both needed to be fucked.

Ring ring ring

Adonis’s phone steadily rang as his meaty pipe ruthlessly took Y/N’s pussy. With a moan stuck in her throat, Y/N looked over at his phone noticing the B-I-A-N-C-A.

Bianca Creed.

“You’re cheating ass wife is call-calling you,” she spoke between strokes.

“Shut up,” Adonis grabbed Y/N with vigor bouncing her over his dick to teach her a lesson. Y/N’s head was being yanked back with Adonis’s hand wrapped around her bundles.

“D-Donnie,” She stuttered. He didn’t say a word but her cheeks clapping on his balls was enough of a response to how good he was fucking her.

Ring ring ring

“Fuck,” Adonis bit down on his bottom lip with a scrunch of his nose from Y/N tightening around his length. “That’s how you grabbing my dick, Baby girl?”

“Cuz you’re fucking me so good,” she pressed her sweaty cheek against his equally sweaty forehead, “God, you’re in my pussy, nigga.”

Ring ring ring

Y/N was ready to snatch his phone up and throw it down the garbage disposal.

“Would you like me to answer your phone?” Y/N spoke with distaste, “It’s pissing me o-off!”

Adonis has her entire body shaking and her eyes watering. This man was no joke. Shit felt like fireworks erupted inside of her from how hard she came. He had to grab Y/N to stop her from falling.

“FUCK DONNIE!!!!” She moaned out. He didn’t wait for her to gather herself. Adonis flipped Y/N around, arching her over the kitchen island.

“Spread them fucking cheeks.” He barked out and she could feel his spit hit her back. Y/N pulled her ass cheeks apart to show him all the cream from her cum.

“That’s all we do right? Just fucking?” He angrily slaps her ass, “And I don’t know who the fuck you talking to I’ll answer my fucking phone when I please, bitch.”

She could see her breath fogging the ceramic counter from how hard her cheek was pressed into the surface.

Just fuck this pussy,” Y/N bounced her ass against Adonis’s dick, “Put it on me.”

“I got that ass don’t worry.”

He continues his beating on Y/N’s pussy. She could feel her ass cheeks sting from how hard she clapped back on him.

Ring ring ring

After Bianca blew up Donnie’s phone for the fifth time the screen showed a series of heated angry messages from her.

DONNIE WHERE ARE YOU?!

ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE ADONIS!!

I know you saw the photos... smh, can you please talk to me?!

I don’t understand the silent treatment when you’re out there doing your own dirt!

I know about her.

Y/N!

“Oh, fuck, she knows about me?!” Y/N let out a sharp moan before her face was lifted from the counter by her hair.

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N.”

She reached back to claw his abdomen. He grabs her wrist.

“Hmph, I got you feenin’ for this dick.”

“Donnie-“

“Stop talking-“

“Fuck, Adonis-“

“WHAT I JUST SAY?! Oh, you bitch, fuck!”

Adonis planted both of his hands on the counter of the island with a loud slap. His fingers curled into fists and his hips snapped forward rapidly before cumming deep in Y/N’s pussy. He never came inside of her until this very moment. She looked back at him over her shoulder with bewildered eyes. She had her mouth hanging open and a soft moan escaping while their foreheads touched. His hips moved slowly and his dick was still firm in her pussy.

“Shit,” He reached out to grab his phone. Y/N’s eyes wavered and her lip twisted up to fight a cry.

“Damn, she really blowing me up,” He actually laughed. It was an irate laugh. It was as if Y/N could feel the coldness behind it.

“Are you going to call her back?” Y/N couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“Yeah,” he placed his phone face down on the counter, “but first I gotta fuck you again.”

“God, Donnie,” Y/N felt vanquished. His cum mixed with her cum and the firmness of his dick tugging on the underside of her clit has her ready to squirt all over the kitchen floor.

“Why do you do this to me, girl?” His words were in her ear while his calloused hands stroked down her spine, “fit around my dick like this and make me cum three or four times. Fuckin’ trappin’ me.”

Adonis started demolishing Y/N’s pussy again.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh@chaneajoyyy@pananegra@theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah@moonlight-night-sky @eyeknowmywrites  @crowngold@njadakillthiscookie@blktinkerbell@luvanxi @sheisexcellent1@chocolatedippedinhoney@brandithecrystalgem@dababydababydababydababy@soulfulbeauty19@btitannaaa@sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted@harleycativy @rbhp@thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone@bugngiz@palmstreesallday@skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo​ @truglori @queenflaws

[hydra-collector]

the shattered aftermath of the blast (chapter four)

AO3

First Fic in the Series

Fic Page (all chapters listed here)

Ship: Intrulogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders

TW: kissing, self harm scars/mentions

Words: 646

Summary: It's been seven years since Logan was finally ready to seek help. His wounds have healed into scars, and his husband Remus has been with him, willing to support Logan however he can. They live happily, have stable jobs, and their relationship is steady and strong.

Yet something, something had to ruin it. And it plunges Logan into feeling things he'd thought he would never have to experience again.

And God, is it hard.

Remus wrapped his arms and legs around Logan as they sat on the edge of the bed, nuzzling his face into Logan’s shoulder.

“It’s Saturday.”

“It is.”

Remus turned Logan’s face with his hand, placing a kiss on his cheek. Logan smiled, leaning back into his husband’s embrace. 

“I’m afraid-” Logan stood up- “you’re not going to get the relaxing day you're hoping for. Not with me, anyway. I’ve been procrastinating on this project for work.”

Remus pouted as Logan picked out his clothes from the closet, but he got up as well. He gave Logan a quick hug and kiss before heading for the kitchen.

“I’ll get started on breakfast.”

Logan would’ve mentioned something about Remus not changing out of his pajamas, but he’d realized that was futile years ago. He finished getting dressed, exiting their room for the kitchen, where Remus was whisking eggs in a bowl.

“I see you’ve gotten both bacon and breakfast sausage out.” Logan examined the package of bacon, setting his arm around Remus’s waist.

“Well, I got some yesterday-” Remus poured the eggs in the pan- “and I figured you deserved a full meal, so why save it?”

“If you say so.”

Remus put some- a lot- of cheese on the eggs, refusing to let Logan do any of the work on breakfast. He finished fairly soon, dramatically twirling as he brought their plates to the table.

Remus carried the conversation during their meal, hoping it would set Logan in a good mood for the day. He was going to need it, if his project was due on Monday.

The project seemed to carry more weight than it ever should. There was more pressure. More… anxieties. Was it going to be good enough? Was Logan in a stable enough mental state to do it well? Was it going to worsen his mental state?

Was he just fine, and making it up so he could be lazy?

Your mother died. You’re not making anything up.

But he was supposed to be better now. He was supposed to deal with this. He was supposed to help himself.

How?

Well, maybe you’d feel better if you let your husband comfort you.

Therapy was going to help. That’s what she was for. All he had to do was tell her how he felt. And she would help.

And afterwards, he would have the courage to tell Remus. He could pour his emotions out just to feel the warm hand rub on his back, to shove his crying face into his chest.

But… what if it was going to hurt Remus?

Logan knew how much Remus hated to see his husband like this. So it had been so, so difficult to show it, especially after he started therapy. He had someone who was supposed to be helping him, why was he dumping all his problems on his boyfriend?

But therapy did help. And as his depression became less of a constant thing, as the panic attacks started to slowly go down on their chart, he became less worried about hurting people.

But the pain had all rushed back this week. He felt as cold and empty as he had during his darkest years, as hopeless as someone who believes they’re going to die young and alone. As angry as years of pent up frustration. As terrified as a screaming child.

He… he was hurting Remus, wasn’t he?

He had to be.

Logan got a good deal of work done in that time, these thoughts mixing within the words. Pain started creeping up his fingers near the end, tired and sore from aggressive typing. Remus had come to check in on him, give him a kiss now and then, offering food that would be rejected, but he worked until he was basically forced to go to bed.

No time to hurt anyone while you work.

[ohtheseboysilove]

The sunflower always finds its sunlight V [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 3, 300 K +

Warnings : language, alcohol,, angst, eating disorders, drugs

Summary :  Roger likes Reader since forever but the timing seems to just never be right for them. Reader is still haunted by her past relationship and kept rejecting Roger who know nothing about the abuses she had been victim of. After being rejected for the sixth time,  Roger thinks it’s time for him to move on…

🌼Requests are open🌼☀ Masterlist ☀

“You’re doing real great progress (Y/N), I will see you next week” You smiled timidly at your psychologist, shaking her hand before making your way out the room.

You sighed deeply when the loud wind blew in your hairs, helping you breathed easier. It had been a month since you stared your therapy to talk about the abuses you had been victim of and it was slowly but surely helping you. You only had four sessions so far, you were still being a bit shy about telling your deepest and darkest secrets to a total stranger – well, she weren’t anymore but still – but you couldn’t deny it was a real relief to have someone to speak and who wasn’t judging you.

A delicious smell was floating into your flat when you pushed the door open, noises and humming coming from the kitchen. Freddie, probably. He had an emergency keys and since he found out you were struggling again with your eating disorders, he spent most of dinner time with you, making sure you ate a minimum. If he is busy he would call you to check on you. You found that a bit annoying at the beginning, feeling like a child constantly watched but after a week or so, you were grateful, having someone who cared so much about your health, it was so nice, helping you to get better for sure.

“Honey, I’m home” You shouted with amusement as you dropped your bag and coat on a chair, kicking off your shoes and slipping into a comfy hoodie. You made your way to the kitchen to find Freddie wearing your apron, a big cooking-pot fuming on the baking tray. “Its smell heavenly Fred, what is it ?”

“Oh, hello my little sunflower ! I went to mom’s today and she was scared I would die of starvation without her home-cooking meals, so here” He pointed to the plate of curry rice on the counter.

You winced at the nickname sunflower, you had been called that since you were a kid due to your contagious and inexhaustible happy mood and its stick even during your teenagers years and then adult life. You were a little sunflower, always turned toward the sun to see the bright side of everything. But that was before. You lost this joy about half of your relationship with Donovan, mostly because of him, crushing every bit of happiness you could have left in your body. Around the same time, you lost your paternal grandmother so everyone assumed you were sad and hurt because of that and you didn’t contradict them, hiding the consequence of Donovan’s abuses on you. The truth was that you barely knew your grandmother but it had been the perfect cover. After that, you asked your friends to stop calling you like this, it wasn’t right anymore, it just sounded dumb.

“Don’t call me Sunflower Freddie, it’s not me anymore” You murmured as you took from the cupboard two clean plates.

“Nonsense, darling. I know you’re going through some tough times since few years but inside, your still our little sunflower (Y/N), you will be alright. I believe in you” He pinched your cheeks and chuckled when you thanked him, maybe a tear or two shinning into your eyes. “Dinner is ready ! And I’m fucking starving” He poured the hot vegetables on the rice as you grabbed the spicy chicken, taking everything on the living-room table.

“Bon appétit” You both giggled like kids at your dumb french accent and you dipped enthusiastically into your plate, letting the sweet and sour food melted into your mouth. “It’s so good Fred, you need to thank your mom for me”

“Indian food is the best comfort food, ever” He winked at you and stole some glances at your food, checking you were eating correctly. You were both chatting happily, telling about each other day like an old couple and it felt good to have someone around, loneliness weren’t your cup of tea anymore so you were definitively glad for a such good friend. “By the way, we’re going out tomorrow night”

“By we, you mean…?”

“You, Paul, Rog, Nina, Brian, Chrissie, and yes, even John and Veronica are in, amazing right ? Our little Ronny said she didn’t have a night of fun since the baby Deacon is born so it’s going to be fuuuuun” He pushed the empty plate in front of him and you did the same, only a quarter of the food was still inside, making Freddie hummed contently.

“Do I have any choice ?” He shook negatively his head and you sighed. “I guessed I need to find an outfit then, any suggestion ?”

You and Freddie spent the rest of the evening making a splendid mess in your closet, looking for the perfect outfit. You opted for a nice pair of stripped wide-leg trousers with a knotted flowery top with loose sleeves. The outfit was cute and hiding your too-thin-for-your-taste arms and also your ribs still visible from your drastic lost of weight from the past months, you were clearly doing better but you were still not comfortable enough to put tight and short clothes. But it was a beginning.

**

You clenched the black jeans jacket tighter around you as the fresh wind tickled your neck, the sun slowly starting his descent in the cloudless London’ sky. You were supposed to meet your friends in a new pub in Camden Town, you were rather excited, it had been a while since you all get out like in the good old days. You pushed the door opened and you were immediately greeted by the familiar smell of the cold cigarette and greasy foods. Pub life.

“Hi everyone !” You threw your jacket on an empty chair and sat without any grace, sighing with relief at the warmer temperature than outside.

“Ah my little sunflower is finally here ! We didn’t wait for you, we were starving !” Freddie exclaimed before biting eagerly into his burger. “But I ordered you a beer, unfortunately you took to much to time so I had to drink it before its getting warm” He shrugged and you chucked softly, looking the menu, your mouth drooling over all the foods on the table.

“Oh, we’re allow again to call you sunflower now ?” You curled a crooked smile to Roger and stole a salty chips from his plate.

“He didn’t ask my opinion about it” You stated and quickly looked back at the menu, still a bit weird to have an eye contact with the drummer.

The day you almost confessed your feelings to him was a month ago and both of you acted like nothing happened. Nina was still in the picture, siting cosily next to Roger. The blond had feel horribly guilty after your little conversation, he had act like no one was already in his life, begging you to confess your feelings, completely disrespecting Nina, he promised to himself that won’t happen again. She was his girlfriend and he would act like a good boyfriend, pushing aside his feelings for you, he couldn’t wait forever for you.

“We need to choose wich club we going after” Veronica wiggled her eyebrows with excitement as her husband rolled his eyes, not seeming really into going out after dinner. “I heard the one you in Soho is really cool, it’s rock music and it look great”

“What about the gay club near Leicester square ?” Brian scoffed at Freddie’ suggestion, his cheeks flushing lightly.

“I don’t go in gay club anymore, it’s...too wild for me” He murmured as Chrissie cooed at his intense blushing.

“Ah poor Bri ! You still didn’t forget this crazy evening ? You need to take this stick out of your ass my darling” Everyone giggled as you all remembered the last time you were at a gay club and Brian had been awfully popular, men sticking around him like flies. He had been adorably cute, gently pushing away every man with a nervous smile when some hands were a bit too adventurous. Roger, the usually most popular – after Freddie, of course – was jealous but never stopped teasing his friend about it.

You left the table few minutes to order a plate of sweet potatoes chips and a fresh beer before sitting back, the discussion of the club was finish, Veronica had win. You took a sip of your drink and thanked the waiter when he brought your meal, your fingers immediately dipping into the chips.

“Hey (Y/N), I saw you yesterday !” You plunged your greasy chip into the ketchup and shoved it into your mouth, an eyebrow curiously lifted. “I was just leaving my yoga class in Hammersmith and you were just entering this psychologist Cabinet at the corner of the main street, I was surprise, didn’t know you were seeing a psy” Nina commented before sipping her coke through a straw.

You almost chocked onto your chip, blush creeping on your face. You looked at her with round eyes, not understanding why she thought sharing this information with everyone was a good idea. It was private and personal and no one knew before now.

“You’re seeing a psychologist ?” Roger asked incredulously, his spoonful of cheesecake hanging in the air.

Every pair of eyes were on you, an awkward silence suffocating the table. You swallowed your food and babbled some lame excuse : “Hum, yeah...I’m...I needed to talk about some hum issues to someone, so yeah”

“About what ? What is going on ? Are you okay ?” You knew Roger was just acting as a worry friend but it was fucking private.

“Roger, I don’t think (Y/N) want to expose to everyone her personal reasons, just drop it” The soft but firm voice of Deaky delivered you from these three longest minutes of your life.

You nodded timidly and flashed to the bassist a grateful smile before bowing down your head into your plate, chewing absent-mindedly a chip. You could feel Roger’s gaze on you, he hated secrets, especially between the two of you and how close you were. If only he knew all the things your hid from him for years…

 **

You were slightly tipsy from the beers you had and you were sipping your second fruity, sweet cocktail which Chrissie placed in your hand ten minutes ago as she went on the dance-floor, Veronica by her side. The proximity of all these bodies wasn’t your favourite thing, in fact it was making you rather uncomfortable, that why you were sitting in a booth next to Deaky and Brian, both of them looking at their wives with amusement.

You felt so awkward, your spine shivering every time you made an eye contact with a man, quickly focusing back on your sparkly drink. God it was going to be a long night.

But thanks to the alcohol, after few more drinks and several shots with the girls, you were feeling absolutely free, dancing like you were the only person in the room. And you kept drinking, dancing, drinking, dancing until your stomach started churning. You stumbled to the toilet and splashed fresh water on your sweaty face, shutting your eyes close.

“You’re okay hon ?” Nina gently asked as she was bended against the counter, her hands making a straight line of coke with her credit card.

“m feeling sick” You slurred as she sniffed the drug with an old note rolled like a straw, throwing her head back in pleasure. You looked at her as she wiped the rest of the white powder off her nose and blinked several times, shaking energetically her hands.

“Too much drinking hum ? I’m not very good at holding my liquor so...” She motioned to the little bag of coke with a grin. Her pupils were already starting to flare as the drug hit her system. “Want some, hon ? Already done coke before, right ?” She asked with a lifted brow.

No. You never did cocaine. You had try few little pills which had make you all giddy and excited but you never went into hard drugs.

“Roger didn’t want to do some tonight, don’t why, he had been weird all night” She added with a complaining tone as she took out her red lipstick from her hand bag, sliding it onto her puckered lips. “The other night he took a line directly from between my breasts and god I swear it was the hottest thing a man ever did to me and after that–“

“I want a line, yes !” You said a bit more louder than you should have but Nina didn’t even notice, too busy giggling excitedly. Why you said yes to the girl ? Maybe because you wanted her to shut up. Or maybe because you thought Roger would find you more interesting if you take hard drugs like a rock star. Completely stupid but when Nina started straightening the line, you didn’t stop her. You were also a bit curious to see how you were going to react to the famous white powder. And the thought of forgetting about yours problems for few hours was really appealing too.

“Here, hon” She smiled sweetly at you and handed you the rolled note. “You can finish, I’m going to dance, too much energy now !” She shook her head with excitement and left you alone.

You nervously grabbed the note and placed it in your nostril before sniffing the drug with a trembling hand. The effect was practically immediate as you scrunched your nose, your eyelashes batting furiously.

“Wow” You murmured as you looked at yourself into the mirror, feeling like someone just injected you a litre of coffee directly into your veins.

You felt electricity ran through your body and you quickly exited the bathroom, walking or rather bouncing, straight to Veronica and Chrissie.

“(Y/N) ! It’s good to see you having fun !” Veronica yelled to cover the insanely loud music.

“I never felt so happy than before !” You yelled back as you swayed your hips outrageously, completely inhibited to the peoples around, the only thing that was mattering was the jolt of energy flying through your system. You were on the top of the world. “This is awesome !” You shouted as you started jumping around before bumping into a man who catch you before you ridiculously fell on the floor. “I’m so sorry” You giggled against his chest, as he shook his head with a hungry smile. Usually the type of man who disgust you but right now, you were just thrilled to have someone to share you overwhelming bolt of energy.

“No problem, doll. Wanna dance ?” He swung you around, hands falling around your waist and bringing you close to him. You closed your eyes and let the music directing your moves, grinding against the brunette. “So pretty, doll. So hot, god, I want you so badly” You smiled wider when his lips started trailing kisses on the delicate skin of your neck, teeth nibbling filthy into your lob ear, making you giggle even more.

Everything felt so good, all your problems were out of your mind and at this precise moment nothing could stop you. Well, except the upset Roger who was making his way to you, the muscles of his jaw twitching under the anger crushing him at this moment. Chrissie was next to him, pointed you with a finger, her face painted with worry.

“Roggie !” You gushed when he reached you, his hand immediately tugging you into his embrace. “I’m having so much fun tonight ! I even make a new friend !” You babbled excitedly, looking at the other man with wide and excited eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing (Y/N) ? You completely drunk, come on” The drummer grabbed your hand and the brunette you were dancing with, tried to interfere but as soon as he saw Roger’s death glare, he walked away. Smart guy.

“Hey! I was dancing with this block !” You weakly protested, the negative vibes emanating from your friend was making you frown. Why he wasn’t having fun like you ? “Rog, I want to dance” You tried to escape his grip but he didn’t budge, kept dragging you behind him like a rag doll. He brought you on the terrace of the club, the wind making you shivered surprisingly. It helped you cool down a bit but your whole body was still animated by an inexhaustible energy, your eyes couldn’t focus on one thing.

“What the fuck did you drink (Y/N) ? I didn’t saw you that drunk since, at least, two years” He took a big drag on his cigarette, looking at you with his big eyes but your gaze were on his sparkly, pink shoes, stupid giggles escaping your lips. The drummer sighed annoyingly at your state and grabbed your face, his fingers holding loosely your chin. “Why did you drink so much ? Is this because of the same reason you’re seeing a psycho–“ He knitted his brows together and took a closer look at your dilated pupils and breathed angrily : “You’re bloody high ?”

“So what ?” You teased with a grin, bopping his nose with your shaky finger. “m’ having fun. Coke is fun” You whispered with toothy smile.

“You took coke ? Are you insane ?” Roger’s eyes widened at your revelation but his upset tone made you take a step back, lips curling down in a grimace. “Why the hell did you take cocaine ? I told you to never touch that shit !”

“Are you mad at me ?” You murmured weakly as the high of energy was quickly going down. Suddenly it wasn’t fun anymore, you felt too nervous and your breathing was...weird, your body trembling as you were experienced the bad side of taking drug.

“Of course I fucking mad at you (Y/N) ! You can’t just tell drug and no tell anyone, it’s dangerous !”

“So you can have fun and take drugs with Nina but when it’s about me, you’re angry with me ? You can sniffed coke from her fucking breasts and have mind-blowing sex but as soon as I start having fun, you stop me and yelled at me !” You burbled with difficulties as your lips felt incredibly heavy to move, anger and sadness mixing together as Roger pinched his lips. “Fuck you Roger”

The blond’s gaze softened at your words, that wasn’t the reaction you were excepting but at this point, nothing really mattered anymore, you just wanted to go home and stopped fucking blinking your eyelashes like a crazy.

“I’m trying to look after you (Y/N), always” He murmured with a tired smile but the picture of him and Nina, tangled between the bed sheet was making you panting, the descent you were living was quite awful and you weren’t feeling good at all. “Where are you going ?” He watched you walked away, your arms clenching on your hand bag as you were going home, your brain completely disconnected from the reality.

“It’s not your job to look after me, I’m a big girl” The blond stretched a hand and grabbed your arm but you swatted his frame away from you, stubbornly refusing his help. “Go back to Nina Roger, she’s your girlfriend, not me. You should take care of her instead, I don’t need you” You spat and you immediately felt your heart ached at Roger’s broken features, looking more hurt than upset by yours words.

“You’re the one who didn’t want me (Y/N), don’t try to turn me into the bad guy in this story” He replied as exhaustion and sadness washed over his face.

You didn’t replied and continued your way on the pavement, walking without any idea where you were heading to but you needed to get away from him. His last sentence was played on a loop in your mind, eyes watering at the thought that he was right. You rejected him, so many time and still, he was here for you even after all you did to him. You were stupid and a perfect asshole but right now, the shame and pride weren’t simply not allowing you to turn around and go apologise to him.

You didn’t need him, right ?

**

tag list : @amy-brooklyn99 @mercurycrowley @vanitysfairr @loveandbeloved29 @luvborhap @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @geek-and-proud @fearless2tobeme @chlobo6 @stormtrprinstilettos @mrsmazzello @neckfruit@khaleesi2017 @rogertaylorscar @jennyggggrrr

[alitheamateur]

The Grind- Chapter 13

431 days. A tragus piercing. A black pencil tattoo permanently etched at the highest point of my right ribcage, and shadow roots in my sandy hair thanks to Becca, my new hairstylist recommended my latest friend, Tia. All things refreshed and renewed in the life of Liv Elliott. Single Liv Elliott. Okay, nearly all. One thing most certainly, and sorely remained the same. My beating heart was still smashed like a steel mallet had turned loose on it. Sure, the festering emotional cut of our breakup was beginning to mend with time. But, we all know with a healing cut, comes a forever scar. Not a scar representing a victorious battle, or a valiant effort. But one of sheer, naïve stupidity.  I choked on a daily spoonful of utter confusion wondering where the road took such a drastic detour towards that killer cliff we had so recklessly plunged from. I constantly fought the burning urge to scratch and claw my way back up the side of that treacherous mountain to find my way back to the earliest road. The road with Colton as my copilot. 

I so graciously allowed myself 2 weeks to hide away. Flounder in tears, Rocky Road, and maybe even a drunken bonfire of most photographic evidence that Colton ever existed. I avoided mascara all together, concluding that some point of my day would inevitably lead to a blubbering breakdown as I hid in the office bathroom. I rearranged the entire span of my apartment, hopeful maybe the new positions of furniture would confuse the ghosts of him that all too often appeared laid out comfortably on the couch, ankles crossed during a Sunday nap. Or slumbering face down with one hand under a pillow and the other stretched out toward the opposite side of the bed, lips loose in sleeping breathes. I couldn’t outrun the flashbacks no matter the effort. Even still, he haunts me on a Saturday morning at The Grind, or on a Tuesday night at my place with takeout from the B-rated Chinese joint down the street. However now, the sickness of utmost sadness, overcome with a rancorous flood of anger instead. Mostly with Colton, rightfully so. But myself as well. The foolish, undignified way I had just fallen under his potent spell, I might as well have just dropped to my knees and waved the white flag the second he introduced himself. And yet, the unsolved mystery remained. HE had said he loved me first. Sure, I felt it near the moment he kissed me after our run through the city that morning, but I chose to bury the words for another time. Colton on the other hand, had no problem spouting off his revelation to me. Nor did he stutter on the admittance of apparently “thinking with his dick” when it came to the matter of our meeting that fateful morning either. One thing I was able to confirm, was the son of a bitch clearly suffered a severe case of habitual word vomit.

The Pilot for me was a bit of a safe haven in a war zone, it being a place I could hide from the demons a bit. My new title at the paper requiring me to cover all things fighting within a 100-mile radius on the other hand, posed a bit of an issue. Thank the holy heavens I had avoided the press conference for his first match following our demise, due to the short, paid hiatus I took to visit Westfield. A taste of nostalgia and familiarity seemed like suitable therapy for a maimed heart, and maybe a good caudle from my parents. An attempted one, at least.

Tony and Elizabeth, said parents, were good parents in general. I won’t take that away from their accomplishments. But when basketball gracefully bowed out of my life, their involvement followed suit. Dad & I always had ball as that bonding clue to hold us tightly together. Saturday mornings following Friday night games always began with film, 150 free throws out back on the handcrafted mock court he’d constructed for me, ending at Al’s Diner for pancakes. That first fateful Saturday after my knee surgery, we tried to replay the film and retreat to Al’s, but when the conversing concerning if I’d pass the current scoring record at Westfield High, or whether I would commit to University of Louisville or SIU no longer applied, we drifted. When the “basketball dad” shadow from the sticker he peeled from the rear window of his pickup truck faded, a hefty portion of the pride he held for his daughter did too.

As far as a closeness with mom, there truly wasn’t much. She preformed the expected team mom duties by hosting bake sale fundraisers, and chaperoning homecoming dances. But that dependable shoulder never pushed much further in the emotional realm of a relationship with me. My dad & I had always held a special closeness, leaving her to feel somewhat shoved to the proverbial back burner. I was never much for the “foofy” tea parties, or pageant queen aspirations she had, which no doubt drove the wedge deeper between the two of us. But, when I moved so far away, it seemed distance, and time had healed some wounds in our connection. When I arrived at the simple square, two story siding home on Lake Lane, my first friend in life, our Collie, Indiana nearly mounted to hood of my car to get to me. No doubt, his name sake my dads favorite action movie character, and my home-state.

“Hey Indy, you sweet boy! I’ve missed you, ya’ big guy!” I rumpled the cashmere like white coat around his neck.

Mom galloped out the red front door first, dad following suit at a slightly slower pace.

“Liv, honey! Oh, we’re so glad you’re here! We’ve missed you,” my mom squealed towards me with open arms.

“We really have missed you, kid. Look at ya’!” Dad persisted with the ever annoying greeting of ruffling the top of my head like some socially incoherent teenage boy.

They probably did miss me, I’m sure. But, apparently not enough to ever offer a visit with me since moving my things to the city of Pittsburgh. No matter what bitterness flowered, as I dragged deeper into adulthood, I had resolved that you only got one set of parents, and the importance of appreciating the ones you did get was dire. So, I decided to nurse some long dwelling resentment and go into this visit with a forgiving heart.

“I missed you guys, too. Things still look exactly the same around here.” I inventoried those familiar, award-winning rose bushes my mother grew in the landscape, and with attached garage door open, I was able to see dads tool shop sanctuary in exactly the shape I had left it. Not a hammer out of place.

“Let’s get you inside, sweetie. Dinner will be done soon, & I’m sure we have some catching up to do.” Mom placed her hands over my upper arms, guiding me into I’m sure a spotless house, while dad unloaded my suitcase from the back hatch of my SUV.

 Steaks cooked to perfection courtesy of Tony Elliott, self-proclaimed grilled master, were served in the newly remodeled dining room, and the 3 of us sat in the same assumingly designated spots that we had for all my childhood years. I did miss a motherly, prepared with love, home cooked dinner so I wasted no amount of time scarfing down the contents of her delicious spread.

“How are things with the promotion, Livvy? They aren’t taking advantage of ya’, I hope?” Dad dropped his fork gently to his plate, taking a sip of his tea.

“Things are good, dad. Ryan, my boss, really does treat me excellently. He’s always super complimentary of my work.” I assured.

“Sounds like a nice guy. Maybe someone has a little crush?” Elizabeth winked while sorting through the last few sprigs of lettuce in her salad bowl.

“Ha! No thanks, mom. He’s an awesome guy, but I’d never see him like that. Plus, I could never date my boss, you know that.” I scoffed all too quickly.

Alright, you fraidy-cat. Get to it, here! Tell them. About him.

“Plus, I think I need a little break from men these days.”

“A break? Meaning there’s been some boys around since you moved?” Mom was the first to chime in, while my dad sat idly by, trying to appear casually at ease. But, I knew he was hearing every syllable of the exchange between his wife and I.

“Just one guy, mom. Well, there was one guy.” My attention never left the chopped, leftover chunks of food on my white porcelain plate. “Remember the first piece I did on Mixed Martial Arts? My first front page?”

“Liv, don’t be ridiculous. Yes, it’s laminated and framed in the living room. Go on..” she answered, leaning on her hand as an elbow rested on the table for a blinking second, before she retracted it, minding her usual manners.

“I was with one of the competitors. Like, in a relationship for several months actually. Colton, the fighter who I was working one-on-one with.”

There, at least he’s out in the open now. The dirty secret is out.

“Was, meaning not anymore then?” Dad finally broke his cold silence.

“Not anymore, no. We haven’t been together for a while now. But, I….. I uh, I didn’t handle the split so well. Which is part of my reason for coming to see you guys.”

My mind spun like a tilt-or-whirl trying to sort through what needed to be said, and what I should leave out. They didn’t need to know how harshly he’d spoken to me, nor the pathetic amount of sick days I’d used to wallow in my tear-stained sheets and overindulge on snack-packs.

“It sounds like things were serious, honey. Frankly, I’m a little hurt you never told us about him.” My mom had taken an overbearing interest in me when I started dating in high school. Boys were something she saw as her forte, I assume. Dad and I had basketball, now she and I could have boys, and relationships. So, the lack of sharing about my now ex-boyfriend seemed to perturb her.

“It was serious, mom. Yeah. I loved him. I was in love with him. Case in point, why I didn’t handle our breakup with much dignity.”

“What happened, Liv? Anything I should be concerned about,” dad inquired in the ultimate “dad” tone of voice.

“It just didn’t work, guys. It’s done, and life goes on. Nothing more, okay?”

Life goes on, huh? Let’s practice what we preach, dear.

“Losing a love is hard, sweet pea. But you’re a strong, successful young lady, and you’ll recover just fine. I know it!” Mom smiled.

I admired her A+ efforts for the “mother bear” sermon. It’s what I needed, truly. No matter how I wanted to tell her I needed those little chats years ago. I needed that reassurance back when I thought life hated me, and some karmic attack had been yielded on my life. Recently though, she had been heartily trying with our relationship. Both of them had. And although the repairs were long overdue, and far from complete, I was thankful nonetheless.

 I hadn’t been back to my stomping grounds since I’d left slightly over three years prior, so I had my fair share of hellos to exchange, most importantly being my childhood best friend, and the shooting guard to my point guard, Sara. She hadn’t spread her wings from our small town, instead chose the “marry my perfect high school sweetheart and have the most painfully adorable twin boys on the planet” lifestyle, which suited her beautifully.  She met up with me at the local dairy freeze for a greasy order of cheese fries after ending the work day at her parents’ dental practice where she was employed as a hygienist. Sitting alone at the wooden picnic table carved with an array of heart enclosed initials of couples I knew never made it past junior year prom, I felt strangely foreign in the little town now. Distant, or homesick. Every hardware store clerk or mail carrier knowing about the family pet you had to put down because all news travelled like an unruly forest fire in Westfield, now seemed displeasing rather than endearing. I basked in a bit of big-headed pride realizing I had maybe outgrown this little corner of the world, and home suddenly felt eastbound. Whether that had anything to do with my recent ex had yet to be determined.

Sara arrived right on time, going straight for the counter to order her favorite Dr. Pepper ice cream float as she put it “first things first.” The girl may have been the only person in the whole population of 2,000 whom I held in trusting regard, so she was kept up to date through a hefty amount of text messages about the tumultuous romance of Liv and Colton. We exchanged a squealing hug before diving right into the heavy matter.

“How are you? First off, you look freakin’ amazing. The big city looks good on you, Elliott,” Sara flopped into her seat, pulling off her pink labcoat.

“Shut up, you liar. The bags under eyes have bags, Sara. I’ve been a sloppy, sobbing, bitchy, pathetic mess for going on two months now. Like, who am I and will it end?!” I felt so light being able to genuinely come out in the open with all the emotion I was dealing with. A crucial missing piece to my life in the Burgh was a real, true friend such as Sara. Someone to take shoe shopping, and call drunk at 3 a.m. when you’re well into a half of bottle of Pinot and can’t keep from hysterically bawling over the ghastly way your boyfriend spoke to you.  A woman needs the Lavern to her Shirley to share life with.  

“It’s called love, honey. Welcome to the party,” she sucked vigorously through the straw of her float. “We’ve been waiting for you to show up.” I appreciated her gracious attempt to lighten the mood.

“Well if this is what it’s all about, I won’t be coming back.” I spoke mumbled chewing on a fry.

“It doesn’t always turn out this bad, babe. You just fell really, really hard. Which means getting over it will probably be equally as difficult. As much as I hate to see you like this…”

“Easy for you to say, Sara. You practically married Prince Harry or something. Can’t I just borrow yours sometime?” I clowned.

Her husband was truly the best of the best, and he’d been that way since the beginning. So, I always harbored some envy of sorts toward the seeming perfection of their relationship.

“In all honesty, Sare, I don’t know that I’m going to have the same feelings for whoever comes along like I did Colton. I’m not going to be irrational enough to say I’ll never love again, because I know that’s just silly and overdramatic. I’m just not sure it’ll be as raging and romantic, ya’ know what I mean?”

Just as she was about to hit me with some bogus line probably directly from an article she’d read in Cosmopolitan, a familiar voice intruded.

“My God, am I having a flashback right now?” Our varsity head coach Eric Gibson yelled from the open window of his parked car.

The guy was a true, unadulterated saint. He’d pulled me from the 8th grade roster to dress up for him on JV, so I lost count on how many games we’d competed in together. He shed nearly as many tears as my own father had when I collided with that player from Carson County causing me to close out my chapter as a ball player. He quickly locked the doors to his vehicle with two beeps of the horn, and made his way eagerly to us.

“Coach, how are you?” I stood to meet his incoming hug. With Sara still residing in Indiana I’m sure their paths crossed frequently in town.

“I’m doing fine, Liv. Shocked to see you here, girl! Are you back in Westfield?” He patted Sara with a coy hand to the shoulder, and we returned ourselves after the exchange of greetings.

“Oh, no no. Just here for a visit. I finally got the chance to take a little vacation from work, so I thought I’d come check in on Sara, and my parents.”

“Yeah, you’re a real superstar here, you know that? Everyone had a field day when your article made the front page for your paper. It was the talk of the town!”  

I blushed vividly at his statement. “Thanks, coach. It’s really nothing though.”

His mouth opened wide in defense. “It most certainly is something, Liv. It’s a huge accomplishment! Don’t be so modest. Hard work deserves to be recognized, and I know you’re no stranger to working hard in everything you do.” He paused to nudge my shoulder that grazed his. “ You’re talented, Elliott. And scrappy as hell when need be! Those big shots at that newspaper better just stay outta your way.”

Suddenly, there it was. The switch of undignified pity had self-destructed. Leave it to Coach to set me straight as he always did. I was scrappy as hell! The 4 games I’d been ejected from back in school clear evidence. It was time to exercise that same fearlessness and grit to scratch myself to the surface again, leaving behind this lonely, moldy grave Colton had dug for me. He may have outweighed me by an easy sixty pounds, and could’ve snapped me in half in the concern of strength. But mentally? It’d have to be ruled a no contest.

That night, back to square one in the little town in Indiana, over cheese fries & cheap milkshakes, with an out-and-out smack reminder courtesy of coach Gibson, I awoke. The sleepwalking, gray way of life a thing of the past. I excused myself from the parade of self-pity I had long been the grand marshal for.

“Maybe she’ll take your word for it, Coach. I’ve been trying to get that very same thing through that thick head of hers.” Sara interjected, slurping the last traces of whipped cream from her glass.

“Okay, okay, you two. Lay off before it all goes to my head.” I shook with a chuckle, and decided then and there, that I was going to find peace and satisfaction in life when I got back to Pittsburgh, someway, somehow, no matter what. I wanted my heart back from him. The heart he clearly had no use for any longer.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935

[badboys-imagines]

Lie to me

Pairing : Tom, Reader

PART VI

Summary : A complicated story in which Y/N and Tom already know each other from work.

Y/N : Your Name

Y/L/N : Your Last Name

A/N : Sorry it took so loooong ! Hope you like it. xxx

Y/N woke up earlier this morning, almost sure Tom would cause her to be late again.

As she entered the kitchen, she saw him typing on his computer, but he instantly looked up at her,

"Hello," he paused, gauging her mood, "How are you doing ?"

Grabbing a bottle into the fridge, Y/N slightly shrugged and took a sip of milk.

"Today I'm feeling cloudy, with a chance of sarcastic."

"Can't you use a glass ?" Tom sighed, but immediately corrected himself, "Never mind."

A satisfied smile curved Y/N’s lips and she sat in front of him as he typed furiously on his keyboard. It felt so unusual to be here with him, in an almost peaceful atmosphere. Closing the lid of his laptop, Tom looked at her for a moment.

"I didn't know working with Ken could make you so happy though." he chuckled, referring to the smile on her lips.

Y/N frowned. She hadn't even realized she was smiling. But it had nothing to do with... What was his name again ? Suddenly, the young woman felt angry at how Tom's attitude influenced her own thoughts.

A proud grin appeared on his lips and Tom took a sip of his coffee,

"Oh dear, you don't even remember his name, do you ?"

Y/N flushed. No, she didn't.

"Of course I do, he’s my assistant."

At this point, the young woman was nothing but a constant state of internal cringing.

"Well ?" he insisted.

"Tom, if karma doesn't come around and hit you in the face, I will."

Tom Hiddleston was like the weather. One minute he was sunny, the next, he was pouring down with rain. He could be an ass around her, but the rest of the time, it was all about Tom's polished, plummy accent combined with the rich timbre to his voice. The effect was completely obscene.

Tom was never just being irresistible, and the tabloids loved that. They also loved that he'd temporarily moved in with Y/N and it didn't take long until fake news popped into magazines.

It was Sebastian who handed her the first article where her building appeared on a picture, Tom apparently walking out. Near him, a bold title dramatically read: "New girlfriend ?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, wondering what the press could possibly say.

"After writing his first book about her... Taking a step further... New girlfriend..."

Her eyes widened as she read.

Tom wrote a book ?

All day long, Y/N couldn't think about anything else. Tom had already left set and she was eager to find out what Tom frantically typed on his laptop every morning.

After a moment searching in a library, she found it.

The Remedy for Love, by Tom Hiddleston

Cocking an eyebrow, Y/N couldn't keep a laughter. She turned the first pages. Science, science, love.

Apparently it wasn’t exactly a fiction.

Without thinking, she bought it and continued her lecture in the subway.

"Human behavior is linked to genetic. All actions, every move, every love story has consequences on the gene pool and can be scientifically explained."

Hm, boring Tom, she thought, turning another few pages. This didn't sound like him.

"You might think, 'this doesn't sound like Tom Hiddleston'. In fact, it didn't, until I met this woman."

Her eyes widened and she felt her heart racing. Y/N skipped a few lines and stopped breathing as she read her own words,

"You don't know anything Hiddleston," she said, "you just act like it." (...)

She turned another page,

"Now, how to make the right choices when they don’t make you a happy person (...) happiness seems to be a condition to humanity. However, finding it without love is quite possible. (...) This is what you learn from a heartbreak (...) to stop loving someone is easier than you think."

The last words echoed in her head. Slowly then, she replayed the past few weeks in her mind. How Tom behaved. How he clearly seemed to hate her now.

Legs shaking, Y/N slowly made her way back home. As she pushed the door,

"Tom ?" she called, "Tom come down !"

Hearing his footsteps in the stairs, she sighed deeply. As soon as she saw his body shape appear, Y/N threw the book at him. A surprised look on his face, Tom shot her a glance,

"Well, I see you've found something to read."

"You owe me 15 box." Y/N sniffled.

She stood there for a while and contemplated discussing with him about love, but renounced. It was too late after all. Instead, she started to laugh,

"Oh god," she cleared her throat, "This was the most terrible thing I've ever read."

She saw his blue eyes widen at her words and Tom tilted his head, as if he hadn't heard her well,

"I beg your pardon ?"

"You don't really believe what you wrote, do you ? It was just for the fame, wasn’t it ? Tell me it was just for the fame, Tom." Y/N scoffed, balancing on one leg to pull a stiletto off her foot.

"I do believe every word I wrote in this book, Y/N.” For a moment, Tom seemed hurt. 

"It’s worse than I thought, then. Aren't you getting tired of your own bullshit ?"

"It’s not... bullshit.” he scoffed, shocked, “This book received an award by the way.”

"Yeah, so did Goebbels for his research and he was still a nazi. I'm serious Tom. It feels like it has been written by a four times divorced 45 year old woman. And the fact that you used these things I said... Damn it, you could have asked."

Tom looked straight into her eyes, his blue gaze becoming colder as she talked.

"What ?" Y/N grumbled.

Suddenly, he took a few steps closer, enough to bring his face inches away from hers, "I love it when you rant to me." he said, closing the book at once, "How delightful, to be entrusted with your hate. That’s all I wanted, Y/N."

Tom splayed a hand on the wall behind her, leaning further so she could feel his breathing against her mouth and the heat emanating from his body.

He plunged his deep blue gaze into her lost eyes, "Your kink for nice, perfect guys like Ken is completely unrealistic. People make mistakes when they are in love, and they forgive each other."

Y/N blinked in confusion, heart pounding against her ribcage as she felt the electricity coursing through her whole body, craving his touch. To the blush on his cheeks, Y/N could say he’d felt it too.

"What ?" Tom clumsily asked, as if he’d admitted some enormity.

Y/N slowly shook her head, her voice barely coming out of her mouth,

"I..." she pressed her hand on Tom's chest, long enough to feel his heart pounding under her fingers, "V-vital space..." she managed, causing him to move back.

For the first time in months, Tom had let his guard down. Y/N released a deep sigh, throwing her head back against the cold wall, her body still shaking from the uncontrollable, painful attraction she felt towards him.

Tom started to pace in front of her like a wild animal, as if he wanted to make a confession, but the words remained stuck in his throat.

“Do you realize what you’re saying, Tom, that Sebastian doesn’t have real feelings for me ? You don’t even know him.”

“What I’m trying to say is...” he stopped near her and looked down, his chest lifting up quickly. For a moment, Y/N thought he was finally going to admit how he truly felt, but Tom’s eyes fluttered, “I think he’s not right for you.”

That was it.

“And who’s right for me, Tom ? You ? I've met some pricks, but you are the fucking cactus." Y/N growled.

Tom sat down on the couch, crossing his legs as he stared blankly into space. Maybe she’d gone too far, but he had too.

After a moment, the young woman cleared her throat,

"By the way, I didn't know you were being followed by paparazzis. Now I see you like a Lana Del Rey song that took human form."

Tom's own cynicism burnt off like morning dew,

"What are you talking about ?"

"What did you expect after writing this book ?" Y/N scoffed, "Apparently, you moved in with your new girlfriend,” she waved her hand in a theatrical gesture, “me."

Tom rolled his eyes and she was about to throw an awful comment when he raised his finger up,

"Watch out. I'm strong enough to carry your corpse to the woods."

Cynical Tom was back.

"Look, Tom,” Y/N inhaled deeply, “you might be used to paparazzis because you are an A celebrity..."

"I'm not."

She released a sigh,

"Tom. I’m serious.” Y/N paused, “I think you should find another place to live while we shoot the movie."

There, she’d said it. Tom didn’t move or look at her until he narrowed his eyes,

"You didn't read my book until its end, judged it by its cover, and now you’re kicking me out because of paparazzis."

"You definitely need anger management classes." Y/N sat next to him on the couch, winning a cold glare from him, “Yes Tom, it is too much for me.”

She shot him a glance and shook her head,

"What ?"

At that moment, she saw the light in his eyes disappear, but Tom kept his usual calm and cynical voice,

"There is not enough therapy and liquor in the world to undo your effect on me." he grunted, sinking into the couch as he turned the TV on, unable to hide the desperate look on his face.

"I know, you can't stop thinking about me." Y/N smirked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Hmhm. I touch myself whenever I think about you." Tom muttered, causing her to blush until he added, "More specifically, I constantly have to rub my temples because I get a headache every time I do."

"Sh-sh." Y/N hushed, gently kicking his arm with her foot as she grabbed his book and lied down, extending her legs so they were resting on his thighs.

Silence fell between them, as it always happened every time their bodies touched. After a while, Tom cleared his throat, his voice softer than before,

"So, you really want me to leave ?"

At first, he didn’t look at her directly.

Of course, Y/N wanted him to stay. But she couldn’t live like this for another two weeks. The last days they’d spent together had been painful, and what she’d read about his conception of love had finished to break her heart. Tom looked up at her, and she quickly nodded,

"It will be better for both of us."

A heavier silence settled in the room and Tom leaned back. He wasn’t even watching the TV screen anymore.

Y/N skimmed through the first lines of his book once more and released a series of sighs, making faces at each new paragraph.

After what seemed an eternity, she realized he was observing her and her eyes fluttered. For a moment, he just searched her gaze, until she shook her head,

"I intend to read it, entirely." she paused, "You're pretty quiet tonight."

"No one plans a murder out loud." Tom retorted, focusing back on the TV screen.

A smile crossed her lips and she rubbed a foot against his abs, then pressed her toes into it, causing him to chuckle. The sound filled Y/N’s chest with a warm feeling and she smiled. Tom grabbed her by the ankles, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin.

"Why do we fight over such stupid things ?" he suddenly whispered.

Not lifting her head from the book, Y/N felt a fluttery feeling invading her whole stomach and she flushed. Because I love you, idiot.

Slightly shrugging, the young woman gulped the lump in her throat,

"Because you say stupid things."

His smile didn't fade away and his voice softened. There were so many stupid, romantic things Tom wanted to tell Y/N.

He wanted to stay by her side, he wanted her to finish his book and he wished she could understand how much he loved her. Tom also wished she knew he had a hard time talking about his own feelings and the last thing he wanted was to see her with another man. All those things, he wanted so hard to tell them to her.

Instead, Tom chuckled, hiding the pain behind a smile.

"Go to Hell, Y/L/N." he simply muttered.

In the morning, Tom was gone.

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