#tomhardyfanfiction

[alitheamateur]

The Grind: A Wedding

A/N: I’m unsure of how many parts it will take to cover everything I want include in this most anticipated story of nuptials for our cherished Liv, and Colton. But, I do hope you relish in part one. I love you, all! This process will be written, obviously. But, lots of pictures will be included, creating some sort of a photo album for you, as well. *I do not own any images you see*

Warnings: Language.

June bride. It always sounded so… so, Cosmo. So, cliché, and posh. So typical. And so no me. And oh yet, here we are. The sunny Saturday of June 22nd. Finalizing the last pins to my loose, naturally blonde hair. Colton’s only requests for that day including the blonde. And the down-styling. And the chocolate cake which I think he somehow requested because he knew it was my favorite. 

Things were elegant, and still understated. There was not to be a single sequin, or rhinestone. The only beads permissible were pearls, and that was only if extremely necessary. My boycott against bedazzle made the dress shopping a nightmare, as it seems this generation prefers all the sparkle. But in the hands of Tia, who can weasel and tantrum her way into situation, I found the most perfect cut of silk in Pittsburgh. My mother ground her teeth a little. The back hung low, flowing down the airbrushed bronze of my spine. The lush shine of the material cuddled, and stretched around the swell of my bottom, and a slit climbed my left thigh. I was reluctant about it. My scar from the frightful skiing incident of 2010 was on full display, marked horizontally along the meaty flesh of my upper thigh. 

“If that asshole won’t marry you, damn it, I will, LC.” Tia sniffed as I met her eyes in the full-length reflection of the mirror.

Even on my wedding day, still posing up a good threat to snag me away from my groom.

“You look… you look phenomenal, Liv, dear. I can’t wait for him to see you.” Sweet Beth gracefully dotted away the salty residue from the full tears marking down her cheeks, as she daydreamed about her sons soon nuptials.

I squirmed at the foreshadow of Colton’s inappropriate groans and beady glances once he saw me in my dress. The dress. The one I never would’ve imagined I would try on in a private dressing room, much less parade in front of a crowd full of snapping cameras. But, love gives a girl some bold bravery, it seems. The sensual dip of the snug gown would be worth the raise of conservative brows in attendance once I saw Colt’s intrusive eyes turn black with the burying of his desires.

My mother strapped me into the buckle of my heel while Andrew snapped a few intimate snapshots of the moment on my phone. He was a member of Colton’s groomsman squad, but he’d spent a chunk of the day prepping at my side, and relishing in the bliss to come. 

“Have you heard his vows, Drew? I mean, did he have you like, proof them or something?” I searched my clutch the folded note of worn paper where my own vows were scribbled down, and handed them to Sara for safe keeping until time.

“By proof them, do you mean have I checked to make sure they aren’t loaded with expletives?” He brought over my bouquet as I stood to finalize the approval of my reflection before my solo photos around the archway outside. “Yes, Liv. I read them. And that’s all you’re getting.” He sealed his mouth, and threw away the insinuated key.

I barely recognized the penetrative gazes of the woman staring back at me. My jaw was held at a confident angle, eyes lined thick with tasteful faux lashes, and hips slightly swelled with the weight of womanhood and true love. Colton had changed me in every way that made me better, before I even knew exactly who I thought I wanted to become. His many a kiss, countless moonlight confessions wrapped in the sheet of the bed we shared, and simply the way he watched me take my first morning sip of coffee constituted everything my naïve soul needed to recognize love in its most intimate state. I couldn’t wait to touch him in his suit at the altar. To let him still the trembling of my hands as we exchanged rings, and seal what I already felt with our first kiss as man, and wife.

Sara gently interrupted your thoughts, stuffing a dainty pink handkerchief into your clutches around your bouquet. 

“Because I know you’re going to need this. And, because I know for a fact you’ve forgotten your something borrowed. I used it on my wedding day.” She kissed my cheek.

I wouldn’t have married Colton on this day, the day of his choosing, if Sara couldn’t have been here. I adored my Tia, and Drew, and each other person who was here with me in this adopted home of Pittsbugh. But my wedding day, the only one I know I’ll ever have, I needed my Sara to hold me in a moment just as this one.

A rattling tap echoed from the other side of the heavy oak door, capturing the attention of every eye in the room.

“Liv?”

Colton.

“Liv, baby? You in there?”

My face fell with haunting nerves, and Tia ran for the knob to answer his faint callings from the hallway.

“He can’t see me, Tia. No way! Don’t think of letting him in here.” I ordered.

“Relax, will you? I’m going to step outside with him, okay?”

Tia barely opened the door into a crack large enough for a toddler to squeeze through, and disappeared. I worked my busy hands at the ribbon flowing from the stems of my peony bouquet, scolding myself for even considering the worst reason for his unexpected visit.

I held my breath when she re-entered the overly crowded dressing area, purposely holding back her smile longer than necessary.

“He said he just wanted to hear your voice. That’s it. And only from behind the door, of course.”

Tia, and my mother ushered my prep team toward the reception area to check out the final touches, giving Colt and I a moment of solace, and a deep breath after the bustle of wedding day jitters. When the last person escaped, I wiped the sweat from my palm, and turned the door handle, carefully standing far away from the minimal crack.

Just as my fingers peeled around the door, I felt the familiar heat of his rough-skinned fingers grasping perilously for mine.

“Fuck, I needed this.” He moaned satisfactorily, and my side of the door bounced back towards me as he fell onto it from the opposite side. My touch alone fed his nervous withdraws from being apart for only two days. “I needed you. Just for a minute, at least.”

I played with his fingertips.

“Someone isn’t getting cold feet, are they?”

I could hear the tap of his black dress shoes we had bought last week for the occasion.

“Well, Drew had to talk me off the ledge a couple hours ago.”

I froze, and my bones nearly calcified into fossisl with the stillness his sentence bought over me.

“Woah. Hey, I’m only kiddin’, Livvy. Breath, baby. It was just a joke. Clearly, a poor timed one.”

Colton kissed the solo ring on my finger, staking his claim. “You ain’t gettin’ rid of my ass that easily.”

I wanted to kiss him. Those minty lips, now probably stained with a celebratory shot of whiskey were the only things my consciousness would focus on.

Maybe if we both closed our eyes first, then touched lips for just 2 seconds?

“How dedicated are you to this whole ‘no seeing each other thing’?” I thought out loud, Colton took the question as one directed at him.

“Trust me, angel. I’d give absolutely anything to see you right now. See how amazin’ I know you look, as usual. But, I think we both know you’d instantly regret breakin’ that little tradition you were so persistent about.”

He was right. I had just enough Indiana in me to keep hold of those age-old small-town traditions like not seeing your groom before the ceremony. And first dances, and flower girls.

“But, since I’m here, how about we go ahead and trade letters? I know Drew was going to do the swap for us, but I’ve got mine me if that’s cool with you?”

What a difference time can grace upon us.

I mentioned one evening, months ago, scrolling through websites while doing some planning, how I thought the idea of writing letters to each other was such a touching sentiment. Never expecting another word, much less even an initial response from my stoic, silent man. But, to my much pleasing surprise, Colton simply agreed with an “okay,” never the slightest inkling of protest in his voice. Love had done a number on this bitter, complicated man, too. A hard one. And it suited him mind, body, and soul.

“Yes, but under one condition?” I parted towards to counter to find my own letter addressed to him.

“Name it.”

“I don’t want you to read it until you’re back in your room.”

I slid the sealed envelope into his hand, holding my palm upward for his.

“I love you, Liv. I am so fucking crazy in love with you.” Colton whispered, almost breathlessly.

“I love you, you handsome brute. Now, go. Before I ruin what little makeup I still have left.” 

I didn’t latch the door until his footsteps were no longer detectable, not wanting to miss the sounds of his closeness to me. Seated on the antique velvet of the elegant armchair at the foot of the bed, I delicately tore open the letter.

Liv,

You marvelous creature. You are a necessary electricity that shocks my heart to life every single day that I’m near you. My spirit is broken, and it’s only fucking hope is in your hands. Thank you for taking my hand, and warming me with your irreplaceable light. Naturally, we both know I’m not a verbal man, but it seems in writing you this letter, I may have found my newest, most favorite way to try and express how I feel about you. Nothing about you loving me makes sense, but it’s one mystery wave that I will ride until there is no life left in me with no questions asked. Yours is the only hand I want to hold, and get lost in the swell of life with, laughing, crying, and standing still along the way when need be. This day, the day you foolishly take my name as your own, and vow to be my wife will surely be the most precious day I have lived. Only second to the moment I met you.  I swear, when I’m with you, it’s like the air tastes better, even. You have stroked my ego like a vicious woman in love, and you’ve stomped it out when I needed the harshest of reality checks, just as I deserved. I hope as long as you’ll have me, I can be the solace you need in the most troubling of days. And the strong tower you need when you feel scared or threatened. I’ll be the laugh when you’ve seemed to have misplaced your own, and the tears when yours don’t seem to satisfy whatever grief falls on you. Always, Livvy. It’s you. You and me, against the strongest of odds, we will come out on top. Can’t wait to see you. Soon. You know where to meet me.

I love you.

Colton

Waterproof mascara was a myth, whipped into a lie at the hands of Colton Ritter and his hidden talents with a pen and paper. I read his confessions three times, memorizing it like it was a secret that I was afraid would be torn away within minutes. All along, I’ve been the one in our household staking a claim to literary topics, and standing on my platform as an English major. But this, the handwritten romance of his raw admissions, blew me away, along with every mediocre talent I thought I wielded. Someone I had foolishly often discredited as “simple” or “distant”, had force-fed me to eat the sour swallow of “crow”, penning words that probably belonged alongside the most magical of love letters through fictional history.  In my opinion, anyhow. Not the that object of the affections in said letter would be biased in the least.

. . .

Colton

I obeyed her commands, as I usually do. Happily. And waited until I was seated at the bar in my suite across the grounds from her before opening the letter. I wanted to drag her up the courthouse steps long over 6 months ago, but this place wasn’t so bad. Like it would be, with her taste. I even liked it, actually. I’d never tell Liv though, and have her thinking for a minute that any of this exhausting, unnecessary, wedding shit mattered to me. I would’ve married her in our living room with Mac ordained if I thought she wouldn’t have minded. But, I adore her. More than any should adore another human, truthfully. And I knew this day, with all the people she loves in attanedance, is what her heart needed. So, I shut my fucking mouth, and smile when I’m told like a good husband would. But, I’m not wearing those damn cufflinks. She’ll have to harass me for that one later, and I’ll ask forgiveness. Or, distract her with my mouth the way she likes so much.

I drank down another shot of the aged brown liquor, sucking in its warm after bite between my teeth as I opened the neatly sealed envelope she marked with my name.

 Colt,

The mightiest of men could never steal my love for you. To most, your eyes may be the darkest, most dangerous pools of heartache and pain. But I only see the glow of a man who the world just doesn’t deserve to know. Whatever I have needed you to be, you have truly surpassed any responsibility as the man I love, and my heart shouts a thousand words of gratitude. You kickstarted the first pangs of real love within me, and sometimes I foolishly believe that there aren’t two people in the entire world who share as much love as you and I. The weight of your hand within mine is the only courage I have ever felt, and it somehow seems my most insatiable moments of weakness are both caused, and cured only by you. You’ve respected me as your equal, never pointing out my many flaws as a failed strong woman, and secured my every longing for my destined lover, and companion. I never truly believed in any definition of eternity, until I woke up one morning without you by my side and realized I never wanted to live another day without you in it. You have believed in me, encouraged me, and monumentally coached me. In the ring, and in life, I find that we are a team fit for whatever battle seems to threaten us, destined to come out victoriously hand-in-hand. I know you will only do justice to your newly deemed titles of husband….. and daddy

Surprise, my love.

-L

Did she know what she was saying? Was this some sort of reference to the future that I wasn’t understanding? Was she applying that term as some sort of kinky slang that people use these days? It was like my mind told me I should freeze, and clam up with horrified dread at Liv’s very, very unplanned spilling surprise. But yet, as I read the word again silently to myself, then again, aloud, this time, my pulse never quickened with fear. I didn’t feel like shattering this fucking glass of bourbon against the brink of the bar where I sat alone. I couldn’t even squander up the slightest glimmer of resentment at the birth-control of hers that had apparently faltered.

Daddy. Dad. Pop.

My feelings only went directly into running over all the things I’d want he… or she to call me. And all the ways I’d hear it fall from Liv’s sinfully pink lips when she spoke to the little runt about me. Would she let me use my name if it was a boy? Could I take her to the gym with me unsupervised while Liv was working, even though it was probably no place for a little girl?

The itch my skin felt already from feigning for the feel of her touch, and needing her to fill the void between my embracing arms enlarged to a dull ache now. I woke this morning already drunk, knowing for a fact I hadn’t had a single drop of liquor, simply from the joy of knowing I would finally make an honest woman out of her today. And now, I could feel my heart crawling and leaping and vibrating with gladness like I never imagined humanly possible. For a once worthless fucker like me, especially.

A tear dolloped onto the ink of her swirly handwriting, and my toes curled inside these leather vices around my feet. I hadn’t cried like this since I broke my first knuckle when I was 16. But ever since Liv had waltzed her way into my life, it seemed tears were becoming a familiar foe of mine.

“You read the letter?”

“Shit!” I shook and sniffled, whipping round to see Andrew arming into his suit jacket.

“Yeah. Yeah… I uh, I read it.” Andrew was one of the only friends I really ever allow myself to smile with.

“You are one lucky man, Colton Ritter. You better know that. As if Liv wasn’t enough of a gift, now….”

“You knew? This whole time, you knew?”

He grinned. “Guilty. But you’re not allowed to hit me and stain the tux.”

I stood, dismissing myself from the stool, and carefully folding the fateful paper into my pocket. “How far along is she, Drew? When did she find out?”

Drew shook his head like I knew he would. “You know you need to hear all that from her, man. I can’t ruin that for you guys.”

He was indeed right. I wanted to watch her snub back tears as she told me about the tests I’m sure she had taken behind my obviously inattentive back. I envisioned in my mind the way her eyes would get all glassy and wide when I hugged her belly and told her I loved her more than life, and I would kill for her if it ever came to that.

“Half hour till showtime, Colt. Look alive.”

TAGS: @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @miidailyinspiration @littleluna98

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfiction #Elizabeth Olsen #thegrind

[beamereye]

Wrapping up - The beginning of an adventure (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/qv4PV5cEDW Arin Costello, a hard working and very motivated young woman. She gets involved in the movie business, as well as Hollywood celebrities. Having feelings for any of them is a big no no. But as life goes on, she realizes, that shit happens. Life goes on.

#alfiesolomons #hardy #hardyimagine #hardyimagines #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfiction #venom #fanfiction #books #wattpad #amreading

[alitheamateur]

Special Delivery

Warnings: Language, because well, Colton Ritter’s mouth.

Summary: Colton Ritter hates birthdays. Always has, and was determined he always would. His wife, however, cheeky with her newlywed bright ideas, makes it her mission to change his mind with a special birthday delivery.

A/N: I swear to you, the second part of The Grind-A Wedding is coming! But, sense it doesn't seem to be falling into place as quickly as I would like, I wanted to try and spread a little reward for my readers and their patience!

(gif not mine)

Colton Ritter was a bear about birthdays.

Was it the bitter swallow of becoming another year older? The fear that with age, would come the fizzle of his talents and abilities inside the cage? Was his ego simply weak to the thoughts of balding?

The reason a mystery, the fact a definitive reality regardless.

He wouldn’t eat cake because of a convenient ‘intermittent fasting’ that I wasn’t aware of until there was suddenly birthday cake involved. I tempted him with ice cream, his favorite, from the grocery store on 5th, and nothing broke his resisting stance.

This year, with a wedding, and a current pregnant under my belt, I was inflexibly determined make him appreciate the joys of a birthday. Knowing going after his sweet tooth was a bust, I let my brain storm, and mull over other ways to get him to finally smile on the 8th of September.

His belly may have been a dead end, but I knew one thirst that Colton could never truly quench.

Me.

One avenue of enjoyment that Colt always enjoyed exploring lie between my hips, and there was no amount of fight he could put up, and win, against it.

The day arrived, and I tested the waters at breakfast with a muffin and a candle for the occasion, only for it to be disregarded altogether when he strolled straight to kiss my neck as I poured his coffee. His pouty, gorilla grunts concluded his still present resentment towards the particular day of the year. I made a call-in to the bakery near the Pilot office before he woke, asking them to wait on standby with my order for a chocolate layered cake had things turned out different at this morning.

He trucked through the front door, gym clothes and a birthday card tucked away inside his duffle, not forgetting our routine morning game of ‘grab-ass’ before he left me to ready for heading into the office.

 We could argue about the singing hallmark surprise over dinner tonight. While he nagged and grumbled about the balloon I planned to pick up on my way home.

I ended the call to the delivery service as I stepped into a hot shower, reiterating that his special birthday gift would be distributed today at 11:00 sharp, right before Colton was due to begin his kickboxing class. I was feeling less than desirable these with the stretches of our baby girl spanning over my belly, and swelling my tender breasts. Newlyweds, we were. And instead of leather garter-belts, and edible underwear, poor Colt was sleeping next to an oversized, less than new t-shirt I refused to let him throw out. He’d never go a day without asserting in every way possible that no matter what condition, my body only furthermore secured my goddess-status in his opinion. The lovemaking was, is, it’s, well clearly, there aren’t enough inappropriate words to illustrate what he does to me beneath the sheets of our bed. But, if a woman doesn’t see it, feel it herself that she’s marvelous, no amount of fervent praises can suffice.

So, this year, I’d give a gift to my newly crowned husband, with every intent to reinvent a love for birthdays, and maybe remind myself that I was fierce. The fiercest in all the land, and the fiend starring Colton Ritter’s wet dreams for the next 75 years.

I twiddled through the copy of an office memo brought to my desk this morning at least 32 times, never absorbing a single line of its contents. Rattling with the clock on my desk, I fiddled with the big hand, checking that it wasn’t indeed frozen in time for the last hour of work. I couldn’t get anything done, eager and dizzy with the apprehensive exhilaration for 11 o’clock to arrive, and Colton’s gift fall into his hands. I reminded the lady from my call this morning repeatedly that only Colton Ritter be responsible, no ifs, ands, or buts.  

  Colton

I hated these fuckin’ birthdays, damn it. I didn’t have a reason. It wasn’t about some suppressed scarring from my childhood because my parents never threw parties, or got me presents. As a matter of fact, Ma went all out with the stupid streamers, and the singing middle-aged men dressed in superhero costumes smelling like vodka. Something in me just hated the reminder that my life was drawing closer to an end. Especially now, since I actually liked the one I had. The one with Livvy, and little my Livvy, due in a few months.

And of course, the evil little minx had to go and remind everyone down at 21 Punches what today was, including Mac who led the stupid birthday song before the door had even shut behind me this morning.

Liv had been a little deflated this morning when I brushed off her subtle hints that she wanted to celebrate the day for me, and the more I stewed on it, the bigger my head grew into a dick. Maybe with her at my side, now as my wife, I should give this whole thing I try? I never want to be the reason her sideways smile fades again.

Just as I was about to tuck my phone into my desk drawer after sending her an apology text for the less-than-grateful behavior earlier, someone rapped a knock on my unlatched office door. I pulled the handle to, confused at the sight of a post-man standing in waiting, and even more confused at the large package tucked under his arm.

“Hey man. You could’ve left that at the front desk, no need for you to carry this shit across the building,” I signed his chipped clipboard.

“Special orders that this be delivered solely into your possession, Mr. Ritter. Have a good one, sir.”

I felt along the hard edges of the package, gently molding my hand around its shape to make sure it wasn’t some gag from one of the fighters on roster for my birthday. There was a tag dangling off the red bow, and I pulled the paper loose, careful to close the door behind me before I opened what was inside.

Happy Birthday, old man.

You only get better with age, my love!

Just a little something for you to look at….

X

Liv

Beautiful, stubborn, and persistent, she was.

I smiled, the way I always do when Liv wrangles me by the balls and just does whatever she damn well pleases whether I like it or not. The crisp paper was neatly creased at the four corners, secured with too much scotch tape for my patience, or lack thereof. So, I simply tore through the middle, short on time, and short on amusement with whatever Liv was playing at.

The image seemed abstract, or obscured initially, but I thought somewhere hidden in the black and white mess I saw long, blonde hair… Shifting the canvas, and tossing the paper in the can of trash beside my desk, my teeth gnawed suddenly.

My eyes instantly alert, and aware at the image before me, and my cock seeming to bust up in and all out hard-on without warning. The slight haze from sunshine beating through the window she looked to, made her glow. White light snuck into every curve of her body, except for the round, need-to-be-bitten curve of her perfect backside, barely covered by the taut lace of her bodysuit lingerie. Her veil grazed the silken, flushed flesh of her arms, and her hair at perfect length hid her angelic face. I touched the picture, wishing I could brush it back and see the soft look of slight, bashful pink on her cheeks, and that heart-shaped gap between her swollen lips. She was an angel caught in front of a lens, with every intention to drag me to the sinful, tight darkness between her thighs. 

This, is how I want to always remember her. Draped in white, goosebumps mounting across her rose-smelling skin, bare. The image captured the essence of where every light in my life came from.

I was moved by the innocence of her sweet, almost timid, oblivious sexiness in front of me. But, the way she was mounted on both of her knees, eyes down like she was waiting to be taken by a dangerous, lethal storm like myself, motivated my insides to painfully pump. Refusing to turn loose of the picture, I searched blindly inside my desk for my cell.

“Hey, birthday boy…” She impishly chided. As if her intent to drive me off the fucking wall with this little delivery of hers wasn’t already clear, the way I could hear her biting her lip as she fiddled with her keyboard secured my assumptions.

“Hey yourself, you little troublemaker.”

Fuck. The giggles… Her laugh was connected with every muscle of control over my dick.

“Troublemaker? I have no absolute idea what you could possibly be referring to, husband of mine.”

“No? So, some other delicious blonde in Pittsburgh with ass for days sent over this glorious fuckin’ photo sitting on my desk right now?”

I heard her gasp as if someone could eavesdrop on the awful things I said to her.

“Okay. Maybe I had a little something to do with that.”

“Oh, I know that for certain, baby. I’ve seen those hands wrapped around me enough to recognize ‘em.”

“Colton Ritter! You know, they say the baby can hear inside the womb. Your poor daughter...” Liv squealed, words on the cusp of a whisper.

“Then I suggest we buy some ear buffs to put over your little belly tonight. I wouldn’t want our girl to hear all the awful things I’m going to have her mommy screamin’.”

“Happy birthday, you sex-crazed pig.”

“I can’t help it my wife is smokin’. And Livvy?” I questioned to her.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. This birthday thing may not be so bad after all now that you’re around.”

TAGS: @miidailyinspiration @torialeysha @mollybegger-blog @eap1935 @littleluna98

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #thegrind #Elizabeth Olsen

[alitheamateur]

The Grind- Chapter 31

A/N: Here we are, my precious jewels. The end of my own little era, but the beginning of a renewed passion. This story brought back a love for story-telling that I had long neglected, and although most don't understand the sentiment, I owe a lot of happiness to these characters. The Grind sprouted during a very dark, confusing, heartbreaking time in my life, and it became such a welcomed distraction from my emotional spiral. This piece of fiction will be held near and dear to my soul for all of eternity, and my heart beats with love for each & every one of you who has shared a kind word. 

One last time, The Grind.

I was grateful that even over all the unsteady commotion, the gravel of his familiar voice busted through to my eardrums. The thud of my pulse hammered, already bringing along the gift of a taxing migraine that would only worsen once a pair of fists lashed into my skull. I was dreading the aching road of recovery before Kat and I had even thrown a punch.

Hers came first though. Quick, and robust it met the girlish roundness of my chin, shaking quivers over every hair on my skin. My footing staggered, and I swear to you my very eyeballs rattled. The early stages of pain I felt didn’t talk long to drag back the memo to my brain to protect my face as much as possible as she obsessively stalked to land an even more brutal hit the next time. I swished the blood laced spit around my jaws to wet my tongue, and settled in for war.

She could tell the blow had combusted an inkling of uncertainty in my spirit, and it only fed her desire for violence. With a random bout of bravery, I pointed an attempted swing for her ribs, connecting successfully to the tight ripples of her abdomen. Seeing as she hadn’t foreseen the body shot, it crippled her standing straight stance, and I was able to rock two more fists to the opposite cage of her ribs. Something felt off for a second when I heard her gasp for a breath when I released the wind from her belly. I felt… bad.

Violent nature was foreign to me, and I let myself feel briefly apologetic on the inside watching her suffer for air. Then, the fighting side of me rose to rule. I lobbed a club-foot kick to her chiseled thigh, victoriously capturing her balance. However, I couldn’t completely escape my often clumsy tactics, and I let my own legs tangle with hers as she dropped buoyantly to the mat.

I scurried with fluster to try and reach my standing position before Bex, but unfortunately her quickness outweighed my own. I brought my forearms to my face, doubling them as a shield of armor for my breakable nose. With her every delivery of a fist, my head bounced like a ball on the soft mat below. I prayed for her to tire, or somehow make a careless mistake and allow my escape. I could already feel the tenderness of plum-shaded bruises forming up and down my arms, and I just wanted to cower in Colton’s arms.

Where was his voice? Why couldn’t I hear the assuring yells of he and Tia?

Just as my arms began to weaken in defeat, the squealing of the timekeeper’s bell halted her strike.

Katrina stood to her feet with ease, running for the cool swig of water waiting in her corner, leaving a shaken and hallucinating swirl of stars swimming like a halo around my skull. I tried to assess myself on the mat, still surveying what damage may have been done. Aside from my fractured pride.

“Baby! Get up, c’mon! Get over here, Liv!”

I frenzied to my feet shakily, remembering the very limited seconds I had to steal a second with my coaches in between rounds. Tia tried to masquerade her reaction of pity, but the squinting sickness of her eyes told all the tale I needed. I didn’t feel much pain, other than a tight pressure settling inside my nostrils, so the unknown markings couldn’t have been of much severity, right?

Suddenly, settling on the 3-legged stool for a ticking minute of a break, I caught glimpse of the very sopped, very stained towel that Colt applied to my stuffy nose. He squeezed gently, and his touch seemed to re-apply sensation to my busted snout. I yelped as his massaged as gingerly as his rocky hands would, and plugged the holes with some sort of swabs to drink up the blood-spill.

“You good, Liv? Hey… Look at me, right now. Look in my eyes. Do you wanna keep going?” Colton shook my shoulders, demanding a surefire answer. Bless his soul, there was nothing but devoted protection and the will to be my strong tower in his silver eyes.

“Have a little faith, remember?”

He rehearsed his best fake smile, and slung the ruined rag over his shoulder to scoop up my cushioned seat when the ref tapped a finger to his imaginary watch hurrying us to pick up the pace.

Besides the whelped imprint of my ankle bone on the upper of her thigh, Bex would enter the second round only rested and ready for more. She would go viciously after my obviously very broken nose, so it was my responsibility to protect it like a mother bird to her helpless young.

Two nippy little jabs, but thankfully she had missed. The dodging alone of her efforted hits made my entire face spasm with pain, and I was already daydreaming about the blue-green blossoms of bruise I would wake up to in the morning. If I even made it that far…

“Go after that leg, Liv! She’s tryin’ to baby it, so get after her!”

With Tia’s help, I did begin to notice the awkward teeter to Katrina’s steps. She was hobbling in the slightest, and her leg carried a barely detectable limp of uneasiness. If I could numb that leg enough, and swipe her footing to crash, I knew I could get her. I needed just a cracked window of opportunity, and I wouldn’t let my submission training go to waste.

I fell into rhythm with bizarre fist fakes, confusing her reflexes when taking shot after shot at her leg. With unyielding focus, I beat the tender skin of her thigh with kicks like a well-oiled meat tenderizer, the stretch of my own groin muscle also suffering.

Dribbles from my nose spilled blood down my chest onto the mat, painting a slickness beneath our feet. The metallic flavored goo gurgled in the back of my throat, and I wanted to spit free my mouthguard and guzzle the strongest proof of some sort of dark alcohol to curb its stain on my tongue. I made a mental note that Colt make a liquor run once I settled into the featherbed in our hotel room.

As Katrina and I tiptoed on light feet ‘round the cage, I’d give side glances to Colt. Once finding his foot standing in the seat of my stool with his elbow resting on a knee, his mouth taut behind the hand his rested over his lips. Assessing. Strategizing. Criticizing?

Another moment his forearms interlocked over his beating chest, toes tapping in a wide stance, and even a barely traceable half-smile sitting across his face. Just knowing he was there, close to me, only a few arms-lengths away should danger really arrive, slowed the pace of my overbeating heart. I’d win this for him. For me, of course. But, it was decided nevertheless that Katrina’s very first loss tonight, would ultimately rally a victory for me, my camp, and my Colton.

As the round ended, Bex felt the buff weight of pressure stalking around her. As I turned, this time much more aware, towards my corner for a rushed break between blows, she smashed both palms to the blades of my shoulder, childishly showing me to the ground. Our ref consumed her with a tight embrace, quite firmly chastising into her ear. Thankfully for the much ,much needed backup, I bounced out of the way for Willow to swallow Tia inside a resisting bearhug, as I attempted to handle Colton’s own bursting of incoherent fury.

“Handle your fuckin’ girl, Tyler! You and I both knew we ain’t here for any shit like that!” My rumbling bear growled across the mat to Kat’s fumbling coach. “I see anything like that again, and me ‘n you may have to borrow this damn cage for a short minute.”

“Hey, hey, hey! Colton, hey. Stop, baby. C’mon! Look at me, I’m good, ok?” I purred and hummed into his hot ear. Hoping some sort of soothing spell would lull some calmness back into his raging eyes.

“COLT, STOP. Shit! Take a deep breath, Colton. Don’t ruin this for me, damn it! I’m fine, babe. I promise.” I was rambling to an empty shell. His spirit was climbing the rafters like a demonic spirt lurking above the darkest shadows. “Please…”

With that simplest plea, the pink of his cheeks reappeared, and his lips relaxed. I think his teeth cracked from the tense of his unbreakable jaws.

He shuddered, as if feeling his spirit mold back into his body, and turned away from Bex and her coach. Placing two firm paws atop my shoulders, he hurried me to a seat, kneeling himself to eye level.

“Beat. Her.” A growl buzzed from the back of his raw throat.

He knew her sideshow had embarrassed me, and if I wouldn’t let him intervene in my honor, I best do it myself.

Colton kissed me. Hard. Teetering the stool on its back legs. And if I couldn’t win this fight with that kind of motivation, I never had a chance to begin with.

The referee had taken some extra moments to scold Katrina for the uncalled for, untimely reaction, and began ushering Tia and Colt towards the cage door.

I hissed an engrossed inhale, focusing best I could to even out the pace of my tottering, rambunctious heart.

But my heart would be the only thing I would slow.

Barely registering the ‘ting’ of our timekeepers bell, I lunged forward sighting in on the nose protruding from the middle of her smug face. The girl hadn’t given a single clear peep at her face the entire match, but it seemed in that moment that fate had tied her hands for the upper hand of my fist.

Her eyes wept instantly at the burn of her nasal bone cracking in half. But that didn’t stop me. My humanity switched long flipped with the scent of a wound, and I was only out for blood no matter the cost. With battered knuckles, and uncontrolled swings, the light of defense dulled behind my opponents’ eyes.

A happen-stance shot deep into the mushy socket of her eye obliterated her focus, and the cage rumbled and rattled when her body fell limber at my feet. Until I was torn from her, and the match was called, I wouldn’t stop the invasive assault and risk any odds of a comeback.

Her head bobbled like a bottle cap rolling over the waves of a high tide ocean, and it seemed the way her eyelashes batted in slow motion that they themselves were even too heavy for her to bear. Our official closely observed her behavior, watching for signs of drooping unconsciousness, and any other medical qualifications for calling the match.

With one roll of my knuckles over her chin, her knee buckled at the bend and sent her tumbling. Trying to resist the inevitable admirably, in true fighters’ fashion, Katrina’s feeble, worn down body emptied of any overcoming abilities. Tears began to twine with red leaking down her face when the ring ref signaled to the timekeeper, calling the bout.

TKO.

Colton’s obsessing pride, uncontainable joy, and earnest tears of content dissipated whatever inkling of patience he was born with, and he kicked his lead foot into the cage door, bending loose the hinges to get to me. As my left hand was raised in baffling triumph, he pulled it right back into his own, sliding back into to place the sparkling gemstone on my ring finger.

Colton’s sentimental tears turned loose into an unbroken stream, his chest choking free chuckling sobs as he folded at the knee, and buried his reddening face into the pumping breaths of my belly. I could feel his mumblings vibrate into me, and his mouth movements tickling the bare skin above my waistband. Pulling him free and seeking his face, I combed through his shagged hair with giggling of my own.

“Baby. Hey! What is it, Colt?!”

I adored the way his smile danced with his tears, the odd coupling a beautiful one.

“You are fucking amazing, Liv Elliott! And fuck me for ever thinking you didn’t belong here.”

With an eager, rising fever to kiss his forever gorgeous lips, I cupped his face and willed him into me. His hands wormed under the crook of my arms and suddenly the ground disappeared from beneath my tired feet. No protest present, I hooked the clutches of my legs about his abdomen, and captured him. If I had any breath in me after the battle, he would’ve sucked it clear from my lungs with his smothering display of a kiss. I heard cameras snapping, analysts and fellow writers begging my name for a statement, but all the world might as well have been a foreign, unpopulated wonderland where only my soul and his could survive.

The fusing of his plush-skinned mouth with my own lit my spirit on fire, and I considered dragging him to the courthouse first thing the following day to marry him on the spot, just to be able to pair his own name with the word ‘husband’.

“Do your thing, champ. They wanna hear from you,” Colton plopped me down to meet to ground. “I’ll be right here. Always”

He eased himself backwards, dismissing himself from the sight of cameras and attention, pushing me to bathe in the limelight of the results of my hard work. He may not have been holding my hand in the literal sense, but the glow of his cheery cheeks as he watched me share the rundown from my point-of-view with the newspapers comforted me. I spied Tia even chatting at his side, with some strange sentiment resembling a genuine smile, as my parents weaved through the aisles.

Standing in my own portrayal of center stage, feeling the gratifying weight of his diamond promise on my finger, his last name soon-to-be mine on the wrist of my blood-stained gloves, and the unpredicted win of an MMA bout under my belt, there weren’t enough words in a Webster to define my state. Whether things would never be the same again, I knew all change would be for the better with the treasure of my Colton tucked in my back pocket for cherished keeping. With a determined heart, a driving passion, and maybe a few more callouses on my hands than before, I would strap down and relish in the ride to come. Lots of work, even more play, and back to The Grind.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #tommy conlon #Elizabeth Olsen #thegrind

[alitheamateur]

The Grind- Chapter 30

A/N: Only one more to follow this chapter, my sweets. I’m dotting the “i’s”, and making sure I'm firmly proud in how I close things out with my most precious Liv, and perfectly flawed Colton. And, my heart may, or may not, be breaking piece by piece as I do so. 

“You have my ring, right?”

“Got it, baby. Right where you asked me t’ put it for safe keepin’.” He flashed proof of the dazzling diamond ring looped through the chain of his silver necklace clasped around his neck.

Colton massaged and worked his tough hands over the spasmed mass of my anxious shoulders, and kissed my cheek from behind. Willow, who was chatting casually to Cal at my left, had pulled my hair into taut braided buns to ensure the stubborn mass stayed clear from my tunnel of vison. The cage apparel that Colt suggested fit to a tee, and I hadn’t felt like a fraud entirely when standing to inspect myself in the mirror of my dressing area. Now that I was dressed the part, it was time to rise to the occasion and act it, too. 

I hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone but Colton since 7 a.m., and the pair of us had isolated ourselves to the calm four walls of the bedroom for most of the day. Aside from the very brief, yet extremely placid walk around the block after begging him for a glimpse of the sunshine. I was overcome with excitement reflecting from the night before, and wanted nothing more than to spend the entire weekend celebrating the engagement with the ones I cherished almost as much as my soon-to-be husband. But, I wasn’t a quitter, and staying true and reliable to my word wouldn’t be an attribute I’d abandon. The fight was happening, and I’d save the celebratory kisses and champagne toasts for later.

The floor length velvet of a curtain that shielded me from the babbling gossip of a sizeable crowd was opened hastily, and I was shaken from my daydreams.

“Do you know where my parents are? Did you make sure they got to their seats?”

“Everythin’ is square, baby girl. I took care of it! Mac is with ‘em, and I think they got Drew wit’ ‘em, too. You let me worry about all that.” He whispered into my ear, willing a sensation of calmness like still water over me.

Unsure of where my own thoughts dwelt, or what emotion I should let take the spotlight, a glassy teardrop or fear, contentment, focused intent and divine love stained down my cheek. Colton, understanding better than no one else the overwhelming sense of whirling adrenaline before a competition, and also understanding what a train wreck of busy worry I was, kissed away that spilling down my face and burrowed me into the safe harbor of his reliable shoulder. I choked back the emitting of an uncontrollable breakdown and swallowed down the home-like familiarity his touch made me feel amongst all the background noise.  

“Breath, baby. Breath, and listen to me, okay?” He pleaded surely as he held me into a bear hug. His strong grips, and the suffocating warmth of his embrace seemed to stifle out the painful attack of nerves I felt fogging my thoughts. “You, yeah? You are the single most amazing fuckin’ person I have ever met, Liv. And whatever happens with her, that girl out there in that cage, doesn’t change that. Win? We gonna walk outta here, arms around each otha, and go home. Our home. The home we made together, and we gonna plan that ridiculous fuckin’ wedding I know you already thinkin’ about. And lose? Well, lose ‘n we’re gonna do alla that stuff still. Bu wit’ ice cream. That chocolate, Rocky Road shit or whatever it is you always buy.”

I felt his stiffened muscles loosen around me when he heard my chuckle and sniffling into his fresh shirt. There wasn’t a single shred that doubted he wouldn’t nurse and coddle whatever bruises or breaks I walked out of the arena with in the next few hours, kicking and spewing at anyone who dare make me feel lesser, or ashamed if I didn’t wind up victorious. Even when he fought so hard to convince me that night at Mac’s gym that he didn’t feel right about my whole plan, I knew he’d never turned his back on me.

“And kisses, too. Win or lose, I’d like lots of those too, please.”

“Girl, we are puttin’ your mom and pop on that plane tomorrow mornin’ at 4:00 a.m. sharp, and I will kiss you a million times top to bottom. An’ this time, you won’t have to smother that pretty fuckin’ face with ya’ pillow to keep quiet.”

I sucker punched his relaxed gut, and an outburst fluff of wind came forth. I was starving for those thoughts he was insinuating, but my thoughts needn’t become distracted with the tempting desire for his sinful body at a time as such.

“Liv, you ready, mama? It’s all you, girl.” Willow snuck hesitantly towards the intimate moment between Colton and I, warning my intro was coming up.

I hopped, and danced back & forth on nervous feet, Colton blowing cool breath on the back of my neck to simmer the reddening, heated glow of my skin. He had funded new shirts before his proposal with his original logo for the new gym printed across the back. We spent a hefty chunk of our hiatus day tossing back and forth possible ideas we had for the place, and how we’d manage the renovations along with wedding plans. He grinned and pridefully rambled about how he wanted things to play out, and the goals he had to start training and settle away from the actual competing so he wouldn’t end up a stuttering potato head before he reached 30-years-old. The wife in me definitely agreeable to a decision as such.

I had no foolish hallucinations that fighting would pack up and disappear from our lives altogether, and neither did I want it to. It introduced us, it seduced us, and it reunited us. The octagon was the beginning of us, the middle, and many, many years down the road, most-likely be lingering at the end as well. But, I wanted a healthy, strong, and happy man at my side living his most full life until then.

“Alright Miss Elliott, when you hear your song, I’m gonna pull this curtain back and you can make your way through that open pathway there. Make sure you check in with that official standing outside the cage for inspection. All clear?” A lanky man sporting clear-rimmed eyeglasses and a headset appeared from the outside to line out the play-by-play.

I nodded, my nervous mind delayed processing his information.

“Wait,” I looked to Colton. “How will I know when I hear my song? You never told me what you chose.”

Remaining loyal to our tradition, I allowed him the honor of selecting an appropriate tune to announce my ring-side arrival as I had done for him. Only due to the confidence I had in his impressive taste in the field of music. He’d choose wisely, not welcoming of the backlash that would accompany if he got any ideas about some cheeky, bubblegum pop tune.

“I’m right behind you, silly. I’ll know. Plus, when you hear it, I think you will, too.”

I swished and swallowed from a chilled jug of water, needing the cool down inside my incinerated veins. The focused silence inside the tunnel mollified the sputtering rolodex of jitters, until suddenly a shake-up ensued in the shadows behind us, causing Colton to detonate with protest.

“No fuckin’ way!! Go! Now! Get the hell away from ‘er!”

I shoved, and searched for a simple peep at whatever disturbance had him hovering in front of me, as if to hide me from some sort of oncoming threat.

“Willow, you betta do somethin’ about her. Nobody wants her here, and Liv sure as shit doesn’t need her ruining her focus right now.”

By now, the prowling security, and probably the crowd in its entirety, had caught wind of the troubled scuffle. Two able-bodied guards invaded the area to diffuse the situation, deciding Colton was the source of friction. They secured him around both arms, calmly reasoning with him to get his fit under control and lower his boisterous volume.

When I was finally able to search for whatever intruder had unwrapped his infuriated state, Tia was the seething and spitting through a gnashed frown. Her reddened, angry-swelled face was sordid with tears, and her knuckles were ghostly white in a tensed fist. She sought me out with loud, pleading calls of my name as Willow whispered in her ear, trying to direct that she exit before more drama unleashed.

“Liv! LC, hey!!”

I hadn’t spoken to her since dismissing her at the weigh-in only 48 hours ago, but every fiber in me wanted to reach out. To spill extreme nerves over the fight, to introduce her to my parents who would be returning to Westfield soon, even to screech giddy excitements over visions of a summer wedding at Springwood Manor, no matter how frigid and opposed to the nuptials she might be. Despite her downright bratty, over-the-top behaviors over the last few days, and the painstakingly deep-rooted grudge she continued to hold against Colton, Tia was my friend. She had been the closest resemblance of bond wound like the one I held with Sara, and I wasn’t ready to toss those embers to the wind yet.

“Willow, let her through. It’s fine.” I strangled, swallowing nerve-thickened spit.

She ran to me, dismissing Willow’s grasp, and began to sob herself empty of the regret and apologies eating away at her. Colton, elbowing the solid gut of one of the guards holding him hostage in the wings, broke free considering an interference between Tia’s open arms and my own. But, as a subtle, forgiving smile ghosted across my lips, he bit his cheek and crackled his knuckles, deciding he’d be the bigger person and forgive her, If I was willing to brush away her faults, then he may as well wave the white flag, too.

“I’m just sorry, ok? I’m so damn sorry. I was a bitchy little fucking child, Liv. And I was reckless, and conceited, and I was just trying to protect you, maybe? I don’t know. God, I’m just sorry. I can’t-“

“I forgive you, stop it. Alright? I forgive you.”

She seemed deeply puzzled with my thoughtless decision to welcome her apologies with an uncluttered heart. Her contrite eyes still trickling with tears, I patted her cheeks and kissed them with deep intent of a peace offering despite all the recent crossfire. My quickened acceptance may have slightly been attributed to the dwindling minutes I had before my fateful walk towards battle, as well.

“Now, clean your messy ass up, and walk down with us? I want you out there.”

Rather than doing as told, she uncertainly looked to Colton who was silently lurking on the sidelines of our conversation. It was he who she knew would pose the most treacherous conditions for reaching mercy. He certainly didn’t want Tia within a hundred-mile radius of us, or this night. And he didn’t bother with the fluty illusions of hiding it in his stern features. But, his always desire to stand within the light of my good graces if the matter was something as harmless as such, rallied over his heart of steel toward her.

“If Liv wants you out there, I ain’t standin’ in the way. But, don’t think you’re gonna get out there and get into her head, Tia. She and I have been over this night a million times, and she knows I’ve got her best interest. It ain’t your place to get out there and try to undercut every little thing I say. You hear me?” Colton wiped the tight neck of his t-shirt over his trembling top lip, his face becoming glossier as he unsympathetically chastised her.

“Ten seconds, Liv. You all good back here?” The event director checked his watched and covered the microphone of his headset.

Kissing Colton, and reaching for an assured squeeze from Tia to my left, I gave him the greenlight and waited for my unknown que. For a split second, the steaming lights cut in the building, before I heard a bumping bass tune beat over the arena speakers. Once I recognized the riff of the modern-day rappers hit song, my mind fell back onto the memory of a very particular afterhours grapple with Colt in the familiar home-base of our living room.

One month earlier.

“You’ve got to plant those feet deeper, baby. If she can rattle your stance, you won’t be able to hold the choke.” Colton constructively criticized my two-stepping, shaky feet as I held his impossibly thick neck between my forearms.

He’d bought a mat for living room so I could train some at home when late nights in the office kept me out of the gym. And with the couches lined to the wall, and my bargain-find ottoman scooted into the kitchen, we had plenty of room to rehearse for my big dance. The house entirely dark apart from the standing lamp near the window, and the occasional outside glow from the full moon in the sky, he intended to exercise my worn muscles well into the wee hours of dawn to prepare me.

Colton clad in only slick, gray shorts leaving little to the imagination along with bare feet, paused for a break to power-up the speaker in the kitchen and roll through his own work-out playlist. I turned a chilled bottle of water belly up, my manners dispersing as drippings of a hearty gulp rolled down my chin and the icy droplets soaked into the front of my shirt. Pulling lose the sodden t-shirt, I stripped down to stretch in the elastic of my sports bra, waiting for my live-in coach to return. Colton wheezed in deep breath once steeping back on the sweat-sticky mat, his eyebrows dancing at the dismissal of my clothing.

Taking his apparent state of arouse in a moment of unguarded distraction, and I went lightening swiftly for his legs. Once my grips fought to take his feet from under him, and I realized there was truly no way I could tear him down, my arms loosened with hysterical laughter. Colton amused at my bold attacks began gasping for air with amusement too, before the pair of us fell into a tangled mass on the floor.

My electrified, skin hit atop his own heaving chest, and his flesh kindled me from top to bottom. He smiled, and blew away and chunk of my bangs that had fallen loose to tickle his nose, and brushed a lazy finger down the center of my face. The salty tip trailed down my forehead, over the bridge and tip of my nose, and welcomingly loitered over my suddenly heavy bottom lip. Our stares searched each other, whispering secret fantasies and hopeful flashes of the future together. I felt the outline of each of his rocky abs imprinting into my belly with the rise and fall of his breaths, and my mouth knew nothing more than to kiss him. With his hands cuffed together over the dip in my back, and my grasps massaging over his hot ears into his slickened hair, I sought out some sort of fractioned relief between my thighs. As I ground my hips into the ripple of his toned thigh, he pulled free to speak.

“I’d say this background noise is pretty appropriate for how I’m feelin’ right about now.”

The pulsing bassline of the atypical to my taste hip-hop song chimed throughout the house, and I recognized the tune from the radio a few years back. It was a Drake song, “Make Me Proud,” Colton later informed me. The repeating of the chorus rang out as a man, being proud of the lady in his life, and all of her small, or monumental achievements in life. It may have been a song that I would have most likely been deterred from, but when I stepped into the perspective of my own lover being honored to stand firmly in all things alongside me, and pat me on the back through the journey, I found it to be somewhat flattering.

Whether it be the settling of the lyrics on my mind, or the glowy look of devout pride on Colton’s face as his eyelashes batted, I was mesmerized and entirely untroubled with my life and where it was headed.

“Tell me any place you’d rather be right now, ‘n I’ll take you there.” His words warm like a purr, almost choking back what seemed like a break in his usually sure voice.

He would’ve taken me to the unexplored canyons of outer space had there been a way, if he knew it’s the place I wanted to be. I could’ve demanded a red-eye to some tropical, uncharted sands and we would have packed our bags in an instant. It was evident our happiness was united. My joy meant his joy, and his, mine.  

The memory passed as a fleeting ripple, that felt the full length of some movie I starred in once upon a time. He was holding my hand, and Tia spread the gap of the curtain to the openness of the clambering arena. There was a rough figure of 150 in attendance, but the hot exhales of their anticipating banter of whispers made the air smoggy and intense with the pressure to succeed. It was different than Colt’s fight, loud and rambunctious with fans backing both corners. Not many knew our names, much less truly cared about who availed the prize-less battle.

I began to feel embarrassed at the already abundant residue of jittering sweat pouring off me, but Colton’s whistle-ready lips blowing cools breaths over my neck dried the wetness. I planned my steps to appear assured, not to give away what eggshells really cracked under my heels, and held my head high only looking directly into the cage where my opponent lay in wait.

Amongst the clashing waves of a nervous mind however, I felt a certain whizzing of adrenaline coursing through my blood like wildfire. My fingers tingled as Colton locked his into mine for only a brief second before turning me over to the referee for inspection.

Dumbfounded, and too brain fried to sort through my expected response, Colt tugged gently on the hem of my t-shirt pushing I remove it for my ringside checkup.

“This is it, baby. I need you all in right now, ‘ight.”

I nodded, cheesing as the official sought a view of my mouthpiece. After all limbs were scanned, and my face was oiled with Vaseline thick like bacon grease, he gave me the go-ahead signal to enter the ring when ready.

Tia only smiled, wordless with a thumb of luck, and Willow gave one more gripping massage over my very relax-craved muscles. She planted some thought of what I’m sure was very profound, and heroic encouragement into my ear, but her words couldn’t scream over the booms of heartbeats I heard instead.

I then spun quickly, seeking the guaranteed consolation in the stares of a beard- faced gentleman.

Colton brought his forehead to mine, squeezing my cheeks at the axis of each jaw and I waited. For a kiss, for a speech, for some enthusiastic dose of rigor. But he only stared. Stared and smiled, and nuzzled into my nose.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” He irrevocably declared, as if now was the appropriate time for small talk as such.

I supposed I needed more than that to boost me into a state of fierce fighting fury, but strangely enough his off the wall remark drove me straight into a tailspin of motivated focus. I could’ve wept with stresses as his driving kiss edged me closer, and closer towards the harsh rimmed steel of the cage. I held onto his hand like a fearful child mutely pleading objections, and Colton petted over my tightly tied hair to hush my senseless behavior.

My toes stuck to the stinging chill of the stairs as I climbed them one by one, my indisposed, shaking introduction with the inside of my first competition cage a resisting one. Surely, the very obvious reservations were giving my competition an even deeper confidence on a win.

I tried to mediate upon all those years on the court, eye-to-eye with the spearing glances of a rivaling opponent, and how I’d only laugh in the face of her weak defense inside the paint. Only then, there were no hazards of having my teeth busted loose.

I checked all angles of my surroundings, assuring I had Colton’s eyes in view, and Tia close-by as well. Purposely avoiding that first initial stare down with Katrina. She seemed stoic, and briefed on all grounds for combat with her feet planted firmly. Was she bigger? I couldn’t recall her fists being so sizeable and thick the first time we met merely days ago. Sweat chilled down the stretch of my back as whispers of the referee caught my ear.

“Let’s get the rules out there, and get this show on the road, shall we?” His understanding eyes spoke as softly as his voice.

The upper half of my body understood the message my brain sent to follow his path to the cage’s center, but my feet seemed to be practicing stubborn rebellion and I nearly fell on my face in efforts to take control.

One thing was certain. If I didn’t rally my every cell to the same page, this match would be over long before it began. I couldn’t have all this work end for naught. Never mind the unrelenting hours Colton and the rest of my locker-room support system had clocked.

Once I stood square with Bexley’s remarkably fixated, clear eyes, the starkness of reality walleyed me. I smiled, an uncomfortable quirk that I couldn’t quite squander as she reached forth to touch gloves. I had somehow managed to drift into a soundproof oblivion, missing the referees reiterating of the cage rules and etiquette.

My time had run out. There was no escape plane in motion, no flighty cop-outs in the waiting. It was only time to fight. Time to muster up whatever lame excuse of courage I thought I had, and do the damn thing. Whether it got me killed, or broken in any manner of the word, I had no choice but to step into these burrowed shoes of a fighter, and find out what I was made of.

“Stand tall, Liv baby. All or nothin’, right here.”

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tommy conlon #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #thegrind #elizabeth olsen

[alitheamateur]

Hey, Jealousy

Warnings: Language. NSFW. Sexual content.

Characters: Liv Elliott/Colton Ritter 

On my mother’s life, Livvy. If that son of a bitch looks at you that way again, I will get arrested.”

My closest friend, and the boutique salesclerk assured me the dress suited my body perfectly, and definitely didn’t cross any inappropriate lines when I stepped out of the dressing room earlier. But somehow, my zealous, inexplicably jealous boyfriend wasn’t on the same page. Or even reading the same book. Colton wasn’t even in the same bookstore, in the same zip code. And he made no bones about it.

He loved the dress when he saw me cascading down the steps of our hallway out of the bedroom just a brief hour ago. He loved it until he realized that every other specimen with eyes in the entire city would love it, too. It was silk number, short sleeves, with a robe-like tie around the waste. Stone gray softness settled high on my thigh, and a slit danced up a tease higher. The wrap of the dress was loose fitting, but it’s v-cut neckline, and dose of my toned legs was racier than my usual taste. But, the restaurant I had chosen was just newly opened to the public, and it’s hype was already spreading on my floor at the office among colleagues. My new love for the gym had done my body good, and I was rightfully proud of myself. Night life wasn’t typically how Colton and I spent time together, but it never hurt now and again. We were two young adults, in love, sharing life in the romping metropolis of Pittsburgh. Occasionally, I would convince my big bear to slap on that devilish leather jacket, run a comb through his hair, and hang me on his arm for a night out.

Green envy had settled in his color-changing eyes the moment the valet drank in a choking gulp of my summer-tanned legs as I stepped from the passenger side of the car after Colton handed him the keys to the SUV. The needle heel of my strappy, metallic stilettos femininely accentuated my petite feet, and created a lengthening illusion for my usually short legs. Needless to say, the parking man did not receive a tip from Mr. Ritter. Instead, a very, very firm squeeze of the fingers when he reached for the key fob. The poor kid appeared barely 20-years old, and a generous estimate of a buck thirty soaking wet. He learned a valuable lesson to keep curious stares to himself. Especially when the lady was accompanied by a brutal, quite physically capable cage-fighter.

“Calm down, Colton. I’m sure you’re just imagining things. Let’s just order, and enjoy the night, okay? Order yourself a beer and relax, love.” I fiddled with my menu, scanning for options I thought would arrive quickly from the kitchen so we could retreat back to the house before Colt wound up in hand cuffs.

He stood, his gait swelling with testosterone, to take a deep breath and escape for a bathroom break, kissing my forehead as he scooted past my chair. His return could not have been more ill-timed as the waiter so happen to be lingering at the table to pour my glass of woodsy, red wine. I could nearly feel Colton’s rageful approach before hearing his purposeful, strong stomps echoing over the marble tiled floors. His hand landed like a sack of bricks on the man whose name tag read “Charlie.”

“Charlie, is it?” Colton rattled the man’s shoulder. “Pour the glass, and fuck off to where ever it is you should be that’s not here fuckin’ panting over my girlfriend. I think it’d be in your best interest, ya’ sick little shithead.”

“Colton Ritter! Sit. NOW.” I barked through pearly, grinding teeth.

Not a word had been spoken out of line by the poor sap, nor anything resembling a cross or distasteful look. And I wouldn’t sit helplessly by and let Colton behave as cruelly as such. The little meathead just didn’t have it in him to let me feel as if anyone had disrespected me with even so much as a flattering glance. My heart loved him for it. He truly meant well after all. But, the Pittsburgh blood just ran too deep, and he hadn’t quite mastered expressing his feelings in healthier manners.

Colt did as told, his face dripping with a sullen rash of redness. The gulp of a dark ale I had ordered him seemed to sizzle down his throat when he swallowed it. I knew his insides were rancidly burning up with the incurable fires of jealousy, even though there was no one else in the entire number of humanity that I wanted to be with besides him. Surely, his fear of inferiority hadn’t been rooted so deeply that no amount of love and faithfulness I showed him could squander it? It all circled back to our time apart, and the unforgiving way he had punished me by the break-up. He hadn’t overcome the harsh truth that I could have easily wound up in the arms of another, never to return again.

“All this over a damn dress, Colton? My God, babe. What excuse do you have for acting like that?”

Would these be the little pep-talks I’d have to give when our fictional children knocked someone down on the school bus, or repeated his father’s favorite curse word to a teacher?

“It’s doesn’t have anything to do with you, or the dress. I love the fuckin’ thing, as a matter of fact. I’ve been fuckin’ hard for you over half of the night already because of it. The problem is, so has everybody else around here.”

Colton seemed to be pushing his insatiable craving for my flesh, and the tightly covered roundness of my behind, on the Saturday evening patrons of downtown Pittsburgh. Colton loved to be in control, he loved to feel in control at all times. But with me, things were different. I knew, and he knew. One hating it more than the other. His relationship with me wasn’t like anything he’d ever experienced in life, and far from his exchanges in the cage where he usually also called the every shot. My typically in control fellow was reeling with teenage, lustful rage this evening and he couldn’t stand to feel so consumed and obsessed.

I took a dainty pull of the long-stemmed, crystal glass, licking a dribble of the rim after a pulled my glossed lips away from it. I know it may be infantile and improper to egotistically play off your advantages, but Colton was in for it.

“Is that so, huh?”

He gulped, and his knuckles turned white around his mug.

Behind the table, I loosened the pulled-tight bow of the silky wrap around my waist, causing the fabric to slip lower down my chest. More of my lotion-soft skin escaped between the valley of my breasts, and I pushed my heavy seat backwards to stand.  

“I’m heading for the ladies’ room. I suggest you follow in case some of these terribly disrespectful men get a case of the wandering eyes.”

The pair of us were pros in the arena of public indecency by now. Weddings, the gym, my office at the Pilot. Even once, an afternoon delight in the shuttle of the Duquesne Incline two weeks ago. That had been a long overdue fantasy that lived up to every single standard.

I had barely excused myself from the table before I heard Colton’s wooden chair scoot frantically across the hard floors of the dining area. I was being chased, and stalked by your handsome bedmate, and the pool between your panty-less sex. I knew the wind catching my scent and trailing behind me would lead Colton onto the front lines of battle if I so pleased.

The restroom was built with multiple stalls, but we would find good use for the antique couch placed in the corner. The door closed silently behind me as I peeped below the black doors hiding each toilet. Empty. During primetime hours of the city’s’ current hotspot. It seemed to be fate.

Tapping my heels back to the door, I peaked into the dark hallway to give Colton the signal for ‘all-clear.’ He was posted with his arms flexing across his chest, and pretending to scroll over the locked-screen of his smart phone. He grinned like Lucifer himself as I bid him inside. Only the view of my eyes, and an outstretched leg wrapped highly around the wooden door could been seen. But that was all it took to furthermore entice his excited crotch. He checked both ways for any observing eyes, and I welcomed him into the spontaneous den of thrills.

Immediately he scooted the four-legs of the bright cushioned couch to barricade the unlocked door, and tossed me on it like a blonde ragdoll. I pulled open the easy confines of my clothes, and draped my leg over his shoulder to gift an opened view of my obviously naked body. With the ticks of his watch passing with haste, Colton wasted no time with the buckle of his belt, using his time wisely and needlessly prepping my already dripping entrance with his hissing mouth.

My panting bounced off the reverberating walls, dancing throughout the air with his own impatient moans of sexual enchantment. Colton captured my healthy thighs in his hands, yanking with command, teetering my bare form on the edge of the seat. His pants hanging low on his hips so his eager friend could escape, I chewed on the inside of my cheek panicked with anticipation. The risk, intermingled with the pleasureful intrusion I knew was coming next nearly caused my asthma to turn loose.

He squatted his knees to even up with my ready entrance, heaving himself instantly deep with no time, or patience to spare. He held my calves around his waist massaging deep into the tissue of my flexing legs, grunting as our bodies rocked into one another.

“This fuckin’ body of yours is for my eyes only, Livvy baby. I won’t have any other desperate prick staring at those round tits. Or that glorious little ass. Damn it, baby.”

His flashes of jealous exchanges earlier in the evening only fed and nurtured his hearty pushes inside me, and I squirmed with arousal. The way his hair had fallen into strands on his sweat beaded forehead, and the veins pulsing down the line of his neck quaked my body with shivering release. With ankles latched around his back, I closed my eyes and prepared to stifle my orgasmic outcry as he fiddled with the bead of my sex. Colton’s back was lurched forward, as if he was trying to reach depths inside of me he’d never touched before his release gave way.

Suddenly, a rattle on the other side of the door caught my very distracted attention when someone pushed to try and enter the very occupied bathroom. I was tingling with eruption, and I wasn’t about to let anyone come between me my daily hello with sexual satisfaction.

“Fuck off!” I sharply dismissed the intrusion.

Colton smiled with pride, knowing he had caused this uncurable addiction in me, and because he had tarnished my usually polite manner of speaking.

Babbling words barely translating to my English language, I felt myself spill hot release onto Colton, and down the numbness of my thighs with him smiling above me as he did the same.  

We dressed, and collected ourselves best we could before setting the restroom back to its proper state. Colton’s shirt was sweat stained, and my make-up running down my flushed face.

“Hey, babe?”

“Yes, baby?” He offered up as he helped tie the closure of my newest dress.

“Can we stop back by the boutique after dinner? They had this same dress in red, and it was to die for.”

I could see him already calculating what crowded room he would parade me around in to stir up his most envious spirit.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98 

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #tom hardy fanfiction #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

[alitheamateur]

Tommy Conlon One-Shot coming your way. Soon, and very soon...

#tom hardy #tomhardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tommy conlon #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #tommy conlon fanfic

[alitheamateur]

Turning the Tables

Characters: Colton Ritter/Liv Elliott

Warnings: NSFW. SMUT. DIRTY, DIRTY COLTON.

Summary: We all know Liv is the lady of the when it comes to ruling under their roof. But this time, Colt just needs to see his bold, sure, Liv begging for his mercy.

A/N: THANK YOU ANON, for this awesome request. I hope you enjoy!! I typed the entire thing on my phone within a matter of hours because I was itching to write it so badly 😂

Poor girl. I nearly drowned her on our run this afternoon. Leave it to me, the asshole, to skip out on checking the weather beforehand. Three cheers for boyfriend of the year, Ritter. She was definitely not gleeful about having to sprint over a mile in return back to the house with brutal pellets of Spring ran beating into her bare shoulders. But, her little blue chattering lips once we finally reached the safe space of our dry kitchen did make me smile. Behind her back, but I smiled nonetheless.

Livvy darted straight for the downstairs shower, her soaking tank-top plopping with a splat onto the tile, making me nearly slip to my ass from the puddling rainwater. I didn’t make it to the warm confines of her scorching shower before she locked me out. Access denied. She plays this little game, putting on a dutiful face of anger & displeasure, knowing my sorry ass will kiss her holy feet to make it all better. I know, right? Who the fuck am I these days?

Hers. And that’s all I ever care about being again.

BUT, she can’t be the only one to play the games. She knows I have a pretty competitive game face myself, and I won’t let that little pouting princess have all the fun. Not tonight. The pumping thunder of the storm outside has the afternoon sky resembling more of the nighttime hours, and the dripping, goosebumps on the side of her topless breast as she bounced down the hall stirred me.

I waited for the unlatching click of the lock, and wafting steam rolled from the door when she stepped out. I’m bringing my A game. She loves these ratty as shit sweatpants from Mac’s, and I slid the bed comforter into the dryer while she was thawing under the warm spout. She loves it when I do that. Crawling into the fluff of a heated bed makes her almost purr with happiness.

“Livvy, baby? Hey, I’m in the bedroom.” I cleared my throat & pulled off my own soggy t-shirt.

She peeped around the door frame, comb lines through her golden hair. She’s cut it shoulder length against how I thought I preferred it, but I love the way it frames around her soft face.

“I’m gonna make a quick cup of coffee. Ya’ know, before I catch pneumonia.”

Damn it, her comes the snark. She’s ready to make some demands, I can tell it in her sure voice. I make up my mind fully to turn the tables. Just for tonight. I love her independent, broad mind. Truly, she keeps me in check, & I’d be fucked without her. But, I need those lips to beg me tonight.

I had a few extra minutes to spare, and I needed to really send her reeling.

Do some push-ups or something Ritter, get a sweat going. Fuck no, you prick. Don’t be that meathead douche.

Think. Think.

I felt myself get hard with the anticipation of her & what I intended to come, so I used it to my advantage. Bouncing quickly from under the covers, I ran towards to kitchen. She stood at a gentle lean against the counter, her back towards me watching the drips of her French vanilla blend fall into her favorite mug. I loved the way she fit so petite into the span of my arms, so I tip-toed stealthily to encase her. Making a point to lean into her with my excited lap first.

She tried to chew her lip & stifle the little squeak of arouse it caused her, but I saw her curved lashes close over her dangerous green eyes in the reflection of the steel toaster on the counter. I was winning already.

“Head to the bedroom, baby. I got the bed all warm. I’ll grab your cup & the green candle that nearly chokes me from the coffee table. I know how much you like it.”

The key was making her think she was dealing with apologetic, cowering Colton. But, he was only a disguise for the mischievous bear waiting to make an entrance. How many times has this girl had me on my knees? Most times, I caused the groveling so I’ll own those fucking colossal mistakes. However, I’ve lost count on the occasions I could’ve cried when I was between her heavenly legs.

Liv’s body shuddered & I could hear her thick swallow as I was curved into her neck. I made it no point any longer to try & hide the long inhales I took of her flowery smell. She knew it was my favorite, most familiar sense of home.

I wrapped my scarred knuckles playfully around her loose hair, and kissed the silken patch of skin behind her ear before she dismissed herself.

All requirements in tow after the final sputters of coffee poured from the pot, I marched to her. Her painted toes were buried under the heavy bedsheets, her neck covered to the chin like an Eskimo. I heard the key up of Pretty Woman on the t.v., and my manly ego nearly regurgitated. But, I didn’t have any intentions to let her watch much of the film for the 42nd time regardless.

“Got any room for me under there?” I ran my hand through my damp hair and purposely adjusted the loose waistband of my sagging sweats to kidnap her attention.

“What’s in it for me?”

Oh, honey. You got no idea what’s about to unfold.

“You know there’s nothing warmer than me, baby. C’mon now. I’m sorry about the rain! It’s my fault. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Way to stand your ground, Ritter. We see who’s in control here.

She tossed back the spread on my side of our California king, and pat the wrinkled lines of her indention in the mattress. With no time, or patience, to waste I climbed in beside her & immediately reached for the cotton tightness of her leggings. Discarding the unwanted clothing to the foot of the bed, I smiled darkly not hiding those demons behind my eyes. Sometimes they came in handy.

I licked over my lips, coating them generously, before I latched onto the skin where her thighs met her warm sex. Liv’s back arched off the bed like a woman carnally possessed at the sensation of my teeth sucking into her flesh. She knew I was needy when it came to the taste of her on my mouth.

I wanted to play her slow, in a way that forced her body to spiral & clutter with need. So, I pulled back to allow her sexually spasming muscles to find relief. Kissing my way up the bone of her pelvis, to the tiny dip of her belly button, then wallowing my head under the oversized fit of her t-shirt to ghost the tiniest tip of my tongue between the valley of her heavy breasts. Her whispering exhales teetered the line of a moan, and I felt her heartbeat dancing inside her chest.

“How about a nap, 2-1? I’m pretty beat.”

My lovers every inch froze. Every feathering touch of my lips had ignited her with gallons of gasoline, and the wildfire couldn’t be stopped. I could tell she was blindsided by my unsubtle shift in direction exactly the way I wanted.

“Wait a minute,” she needfully whined. Her voice lifted an octave & it painted over me like a cold paintbrush, causing prickles all over my skin.

“What’s that, baby?”

“I’m... I’m not ready for a nap yet, Colt...”

Let the games begin.

“Well what is it my girl needs then, huh? What are you ready for? Wanna finish the movie first?”

Her limbs squirmed nervously, wrestling with the words she wanted to say. But, I could see traces of pride on her face. Would she break that easily?

“Yeah. Exactly! I just wanna finish the movie. That’s all.”

Fuck. She won’t break that easy, you bastard.

I resentfully took my place next to her on the cool pillow, and opened the bend of my arm for her to nuzzle into as the movie played in the background. I traveled to the deepest cavern of my mind for any weapons of mass eruption I could use against her valiant efforts of resistance. With one arm bent behind me against the headboard and my thoughts at war, I fretted internally. She always liked her hair twirled around my finger before she fell asleep, so I trusted the usually successful tactic.

Still, no reaction on her stoic face as she gazed & giggled at Julia Roberts on our bedroom flatscreen.

Trying to focus so intently on all the ways I could break down her wall, I instead trailed off on the countless ways she drove me utterly insane with her feminine antics, once again the ripple effect landing between my legs. I’d bust if she didn’t cave into me sooner rather than later.

Lowering deeper into the soft bed, I rolled onto my side dangerously near the opening of her ear. My hands & mouth danced in unison, one on the point of her pert nipple, the other lapping on her lobe. I heard her fingers scrapping against the thread of white sheets, and her toes curled.

“Does my pretty baby like that, huh?” My gravely questions seemed to inject directly into her veins like vicious poison.

“Does my Livvy girl like the way that feels?”

I was never, ever a man of poetic manner, but I knew it meant worlds to her when I made some conscious effort to try & use my words like a actual adult. Even if it meant using them to my full advantage in the most salacious of ways.

She never answered my questions, not even so much as opened her sealed eyes. But I planned to break her silence.

I walked two fingers, one in front of the other like the ‘itsy-bitsy spider’ south toward her seeping center. Intruding with my pointer finger inside the band of her laced-trimmed panties, Liv licked over her dry, panting mouth. I could feel the pooling of her pleasure between her velvet folds, and I slid gentle circles around the bundle of sensitive nerves. Sweaty beads of gleaming sweat gathered on her forehead, the perfect bones of her cheeks puffed with red the more I toyed with her release, but she still remained collected.

I escaped from the glossy squeeze between her thighs & winked to her as she laid on her back in disbelief. The lick of her wetness from my finger may have struck her every desire, but it was actually more of a treat for myself rather than her.

“What do you think you’re doing, Ritter?” She elevated on the point of her elbows, her lids heavy with lust.

“I’m disturbing your movie. My bad, babe. I’ll behave. I really am sorry. Unless....”

The static electricity from the pillow case flowed through her hair as she waited for my offer to fall on the table.

“.......unless?”

“Unless you want me to get down there & suck out every last little drop of sweetness you’re keeping from me between those gorgeous legs.”

Her eyes took the shape of glassy marbles. My girls shyness with my sailor mouth never got old.

A storm brewed inside her, and she couldn’t deny how bad she wanted me if she tried. But I’d make her say it. I’d make her grovel just this once.

Giving her ample time to make her final decision, she never uttered a sound. So, I climbed from beneath the bubble of warmth under the blankets and dismissed myself.

“Imma grab a shower, then maybe I can head out & grab a bite for us if you want.”

Liv leaped with the speed of a lioness on attack to protect her young to stop my escape.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” She treated & swiftly pulled off the cover of her t-shirt.

“What’s that? I have no idea what you mean, baby...”

With one gracious motion she stood up shaking loose her hair, her round tits shaking with the aftershock. Her fight training had definitely fallen to her advantage as she took my broad arm in the lock of a submission move, weakening my knees and sending me to the floor.

“You know what, you clever little bastard. Finish what you started, Ritter.”

There was fury in her voice, and power in the fist she knotted into the hair on top of my head. Here I was again, bending the knee to worship her perfectly curved body.

“Beg.” I boldly protested against her sharp demands.

She knew it’s what I wanted. The entire time she could see it’s what I was working for.

I kissed her lips once more, lingering a bit just for the taste, then backed away to look upward at her.

“Let’s hear it, baby. I know how bad you need it. It’s dripping down my chin, in fact.”

“Please.”

Step one.

“Please what, Livvy. I’m ready & willin’, baby. Just ask.”

“Please... you know...”

Step two.

Her polite little mouth just couldn’t allow the words release. I eyeballed her, batting my eyes in genuine laughter at the way she kept such a shy demeanor when it came to our sex life. Even considering the many ways we had tarnished nearly every service within a 10-mile radius.

“Damn it, Colt! Make me come already! Please! Make me come!!”

It was an angry, resentful, desperate cry, but immediately my every pulsating cell exploded. My pupils swelled with evil satisfaction at the feeling of her needing me in such a raw way. Immediately, a victim to my lack of self control, I pummeled my face to her core. I wanted to shower in the hot, sugary sensation of all things Liv. She laughed out loud, resembling a twisted woman controlled by the darkness of her lusts. My thumbs pushed into her thighs in effort to keep her wobbly legs standing, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before a bright pink blush would rash all over her body with the arrival of her orgasm.

“More, Colton! Just one more minute. I’m begging you. Don’t stop!”

Pushing into her entrance with a widened tongue, seconds later my beautiful Livvy’s screams bounced from wall to wall in the tranquil privacy of our little house on the corner. And as for me, I spent the rest of our stormy, Spring afternoon groveling for her mercy.

Tags: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

#tom hardy imagine #tomhardyfanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardy #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #ask #reader request

[alitheamateur]

Masterlist

Tommy Conlon:

Lights, Camera, Action? (NSFW)

Proud Poppa

Perfect Patient

Pleasure for Pain (Mildly NSFW)

Locker Room Liaison

Harley and Heat Lightening (NSFW)

Party of Three (NSFW)

What Dating Would Include… (Mildly NSFW)

What Parenting Would Include…

Rumor

Daddy-Daughter Duty

Bob Saginowski:

Birthday Boy Bob (NSFW)

Birthday Boy Bob Pt. Two

The Grind:

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

 Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Liv & Colton- One Shots

*Contains some spoilers if you haven’t yet completed The Grind*

Special Delivery

The Grind- A Wedding (Part 1)

The Grind- A Wedding (Part 2)

Hey, Jealousy

Turning The Tables

Reggie Kray

Little Bird

A Taste of Home (Chris Evans X OFC Series)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

#fics #Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tommy conlon #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #chris evans #chrisevans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x ofc #fanfiction #tommy conlon fanfic #tommy conlon imagine #chrisevansfanfic #chris evans oneshot #chris evans imagine #Elizabeth Olsen #lily james

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 29

I helped clean up the dishes, and he emptied all our trash into the dumpster behind the shop before we journeyed to the next stealthy location on his to-do list. I made sure to cork the pricey wine bottle so I could take the last bit home to sip on in bed with him, not wanting to waste a drop of the bittersweet goodness. Colton peeled off his jacket to drape over my bare back since the evening temperatures had chilled noticeably, then we locked up and he offered his aid to the car, considering my acutely inebriated state.

Instead of following the traffic further into the eventful side of town, we made a left and headed off towards the outskirts. It was a part of Pittsburgh that normally would have me on edge consider the late hour, but with Colton at the wheel there was truly never any reason to fear. He wasn’t a certified superhero, or a proclaimed savior of humanity, but I felt he was my own personal, daunting vigilante. I was independent, and capable on my own, but with him I could be fearless.

I looked out the side window as the streetlights and skyscrapers became scarce, and felt the dizzy aftershock of the merlot floating through my veins, creating a warm blaze over my cheeks. Rolling the window down a crack for some cool breeze to chill my alcoholic hot flash, we turned on the very familiar street where Mac’s gym used to sit. I stretched in my seat to get a good look around, continuing the trend of confusion.

“You okay, Livvy?” Colton tested as he parallel parked directly in front of the cloudy, dust stained windows of the unoccupied building.

“Yeah, just a little hazy from the wine is all. And wondering what we’re doing here.”

He only half-smiled and opened the door, gesturing for me to follow suit. Checking carefully for any oncoming vehicles, I slung open the passenger side to meet my offered escort on the sidewalk. The “A” of the sign above the doorway was cracked and barely hanging on by some sketchy wires, and the street number that was stickered on the glass was pared and faded. I felt instantly sad for Colt seeing the current state his once second home. In fact, it had probably been more of a home to him than the old, dingy apartment he was held up in when we first met, considering the innumerable hours he spent training here.  As our steps accidently synced in speed toward Mac’s, Colton tore away a graffiti marked “For Sale” sign heftily tapped to the glass. He disconnected our hands to pull a key tucked away in a pocket of his wallet…

Shards of broken glass from the overhead lights furthermore shattered as we walked over the polluted floor of the abandoned gym. Most of the equipment remained intact and the ring still stood in its place, only now stained a bit with the passing year of lacked maintenance. A red-wrapped box, taped with a black bow had been placed in its center, which I gathered was exactly where Colton was dragging me. He gaped the stretchy, leather-like ropes open and grasped my forearm to keep me from woozily face planting. From side glance, I watched him drink in the sight of my leaning figure, and the spilling out of cleavage as I did so.

“I hate seeing the place like this. I know it has to be pretty brutal for you too, babe.” I weakly slurred in a sympathized manner.

“This place got a lotta memories, for sure. For the both of us, hm?” He approached me from behind covering me in a bear hug, kissing the crook of my neck, and inhaling in my most customary scent. A reminder of the first night we spent together standing in that very spot made the echo of our moans, and the feel of his hands on me play back like a fantasy in my mind, and I sunk further into his body.

“Be careful talking about such things, Ritter. I might just be drunk enough to let you take advantage of me right here again.”

“As much as I need to get my hands on you, you should open ya’ present first.” He suggested, nudging me onward with a pat to the behind.

I squatted to lift the box, and felt the barely-there weight of its contents. Colt remained in observance over my shoulder, quietly inspecting for a reaction as I worked my nails over the knotted, silk bow closure. It fell to my feet, tickling over my exposed toes in the stilettoes I wore, and I then dropped the cardboard lid shortly after. Lined with tissue paper inside, the black gloves Colton wore to fight Danny Mendez were laid next to each other. The grained leather was softer than when I had first gifted him with them, now broken in and loose due to the blows thrown, and punches blocked.

“Colton. These belong to you, babe. I don’t even deserve a pair this nice. And besides, they have your name on ‘em, silly.” I reasoned, turning slow to face my one-man audience.

“I think I can maybe do somethin’ about that little name issue, pretty girl.”

Suddenly, the crisp box and its contents crashed to the floor, falling buoyantly from my now numb hands. Instead of spinning around to meet his smiling eyes, I had to sink my sights to discover him knelt a few feet from me, caressing a square velvet case.

“Colton, what ar-.”

“You listen, ‘n let me talk this time, baby.”

Uncontrollable outlines of mascara black tears initiated abruptly, and the white noise of passing traffic, and distant sirens ceased.

“The second I looked into those bright emerald eyes of yours Livvy, a fuse kicked inside me. All those emotions that I had turned off a long time ago, fuckin’ came roaring back. The typical me, woulda walked right out that morning with a coffee to-go, without a second thought. But it was like every time I looked back at ya’, I swear I could literally feel my heartbeats inside of me. I coulda counted them out loud, Liv. You had me in this… this trance or somethin’. You know I ain’t gonna say all this the way you deserve to hear it, but I need you to know what you are to me, Elliott. How much you mean t’ me.”

I could hear his voice crack under the pressure he had put on himself, and the lump of tearful release he was trying to choke back into his throat.

“There’s a billion damn reasons why I don’t deserve ya’. We both know that. But there’s another billion reasons why I want to. You’re the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, and the only one I know who could get me laughin’ like a damn idiot the way you do. I love that you always have a little smudge of leftover makeup unda’ your eyes when you wake up every mornin’, and that you can have me beggin’ in desperation the second you put on a pair of those shoes like the ones ya’ wearin’ now. And don’t even get me started on how thrilled I get seeing you strapped into a pair of sparring gloves. As nervous sick as it gets me, I love it all the same. I ain’t never wanted to be a better man, babe. For myself, and sure as hell not for anyone else. But the man I am with you, the man you turn me into, is a far better one that I ever thought I could be. C’mere, Livvy baby. I ain’t gonna bite.”

Following the suggestive direction of his nod, I weakly closed the distance between us, and he took my chattering hand into his. He laughed, and tried to still the very obvious nervous, euphoric emotion coming through my skin.

“You are such a beautiful, loving, kind heart. Not to mention sexy in the most subtle ‘n real way. You’re strong as a fuckin’ ox, inside & out, and you sit my ass straight in line every day. God knows I need that. I want to spend the rest of my life being ya’ sidekick, and watchin’ you succeed with whatever your heart wants. I can’t promise I’ll be as perfect as all the otha’ men you truly deserve, and I need ya’ to be patient wi’ me when I get all caught up in me head. There ain’t nobody else I’d rather have nursin’ my wounds after a fight, or eatin’ a whole gallon of ice cream with on a cheat day. You���re my only light, and any chance I have at bein’ a decent man is only because of you. So, Liv Caroline Elliott, will you marry me?”

The flawless solitaire sent iridescent beams of sparkle bouncing across the ceiling as the light caught it in Colton’s suddenly shaking hand. The stone was impressively hefty in carats, and was uniquely chiseled into the shape of an octagon. I knew that little quality wasn’t just a coincidence, and Colt had made this purchase with careful consideration and lots of preparation. His dedicated search for the perfect diamond to join the two of us together was a thoughtful sentiment no one could refute.

He bore his soul without question, so unnaturally against his nature, and let his every emotion spring forth for me to potentially criticize and dismiss. The metamorphosis I had witnessed overtake him the last months satisfied my hearts every yearning, and I knew fully that Colton Ritter was the only man who would ever fill the shoes of my true love. As tears began saturating his soft, bristle-like eyelashes too quick for him to conceal and rub away with his shirt sleeve, I wordlessly nodded an accepting, smiling ‘yes.’

“You ain’t gettin’ off that easy 2-1. A man’s gotta hear you say it.”

“Yes, Colton. Yes, yes, yes! A hundred times over, yes. I will marry you. Only if you promise me, to stop selling yourself so short and trying to convince the world what a monster you are. When it comes to the cage, sure you’re unforgiving and dangerous. But otherwise, we both know that’s so far from the truth. Whether I’m the only lucky individual who gets to see it behind closed doors or not, you’re so kind. And you’re the most loyal man I have ever met. Any time I’ve been lucky enough to spend with you, have been the best minutes of my entire life. And when I happen to think about the time passed without you, I cringe at the memories we could’ve made. I want nothing more than to spend whatever life I have left by your side.”

The feeling of the cool silver band as he slid it with ease over the knuckle of the proper finger sent a tsunami of wedding color schemes, and potential venues flooding into my train of thought. Never was I the girl for fairy tales, and tulle and princes riding in to rescue the damsel, but the countless possibilities of marital bliss with Colton had birds chirping and singing around my head.

My newly crowned fiancé lunged in to seal the celebration with a deep kiss, pulling me into him by a hand on the back of my neck. The sticky tears wetting his face mixed with my own as our faces touched in embrace, and Colton dipped me like the closing move of a Salsa dance, laughing when I yelped in surprise.

“What is it about this little place, I wonder? It seems Mac’s has been pretty important to us over the last years.” I pointed out, as he kissed the fine jewelry now situated on my finger.

“Yeah…… Well, uhm... About that…”

I looked at him through slit eyes, and cocked a quizzical, suspicious brow at what had him so apparently tongue tied.

“You’re right. This shit hole has been pretty damn important t’ me. And a’ course, to us too. I can’t stand to see it just sittin’ here. Rotting.”

“I’m sure if there was anything Mac could do, sweetheart, he would’ve already. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the next owner will give it a good makeover, y’know? Freshen it up.” I attempted to cheer him up with positive outlook, and cheery suggestions.

“Oh, I think you right. The next owner is gonna get this place back on its feet, and back to it’s roots. Some new bags first thing, and a definite fuckin’ fumigating.” His nose crinkled as he looked around at the mildewed ceiling.

“It sold? Someone finally bou-“

I froze, and Colton’s instantaneous smile furthermore proved my suspicions. He had torn down that weathered ‘for sale’ sign before we came inside, and the little key tucked in his wallet should’ve been my tell-tale.

“COLTON?! It’s yours? You bought it? How? Whe-“

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Take a breath, ya’ crazy chatterbox. Yes, I bought it. And yes, it’s OURS.” Colton annunciated the significance of ‘ours’ in his confession, assuring I understood that this cherished little corner of a rickety, dark corner block in Pittsburgh now belonged to us. Together.

“I was thinkin’… How does 21 Punches sound to you? I mean, I’d like to have Mac maybe be a manger for me, y’know, when I can’t be here ‘n stuff. But I do wanna change that sign out front.”

Invisible atoms of a tranquil fog consumed the every corner of being, and my legs felt insubstantial on a cloud of celestial contentment. This stiff as cement man, who seemed to turn to near wet, molding clay in my presence wanted to name his most prized possession after a silly, what I viewed as irrelevant, high school basketball number from my ancient days as a Westfield Warrior. I half expected a hidden crowd to jump out into a surprise party, or a horse drawn carriage to wheel up outside to seal the finishing touches on an evening of unadulterated shock and romance.

“I think you’re the best thing about this smelly, foggy, freezing city. And I think you should take me home right now, and let me show you exactly how amazing I think you are.”

Forgetting any class or feminine daintiness, I grabbed firmly around the bulge of his thin, extremely well-fitting slacks and parted two buttons of his shirt to tickle his beating chest.

“Home? We own the place now, ya’ naughty lil’ thing. I could just take ya’ right fuckin’ now if I wanted to.”

“Slide your hand under this dress and get to it then, Mr. Ritter.” I sighed fervently into his ear, sloppily sucking his neck just under the line of his beard.

The lack of undergarments he discovered as he used two fingers to crawl up the side of my leg caused him to groan out hauntingly.

“Your wish, is my fuckin’ command, Mrs. Ritter.”

tags: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #tom hardy fanfiction #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 21

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of actions related to a sexual nature. 

A/N: Since I punished you all with that painfully short chapter yesterday, I felt it only right not to make you wait for this load of story. Buckle down kids, this is a lengthy bit!

The tense way our bodies snuggled to each other as we traveled now down a quieter four lane highway, was an immensely warm consummation I had grown addictively accustom to. Occasionally, he’d drop one hand from steering the bike to pet over my arms clutched to his waist, stroking a thumb to the skin he found there. I smiled in secret at the chills that arose at his feverish, yet boyish touch, knowing he was smiling himself at the reaction his contact triggered.  The greenery and much clearer air, free of the industrial, city smog, painted a storybook picturesque view of rural Pittsburgh. Where in the blazes could he be dragging me? Not saying the lushness of the apparent countryside didn’t lull me into a satisfactory coma of contentment at the slight similarities I found of Westfield.

I saw his wrist twitch letting off the accelerator, and our speed decreased turning near a lot with a simple painted sign reading “Duquesne Inlcine.” The location seemed maybe vaguely familiar, like I’d heard it mentioned in a passing conversation sometime or another, but I couldn’t say I was properly acquainted. The vast variety of parking was well, strangely a ghost town. The weather was sheer sunshine perfection, it was the weekend, so where were all the people? He pulled off his helmet, revealing the heat of the sun that had been trapped around his head causing his locks to appear spritzed with sweat, and a whimper of surprise at his exterior escaped me. Was I ever going to grow suitably acclimated with just how gloriously handsome he was in entirety? Judging by the current timeline of events, he would only grow more attractive with age, and I would become even more vulnerable to his refined features. Time was on his side, and only a mere year or so had passed since I’d seen him up close. Only now, that particular day, his eyes weren’t nearly as bright with blue, and their usual glint absent when I looked deeper. Was he... nervous? 

“Bet no one has drug you up here since you moved?” He shook my ears to attention.

“You’ve got me there. Where, where are we exacty?” I returned his question with one of my own, pulling off the helmet. Silently praying my hair wasn’t as out of place as the ones his head. Messy, tangled bedhead wasn’t a look that suited me as it did him. Why are you staring, Liv. You’ve seen the man naked and you’re shook up by some disheveled hair? Get laid, you pathetic hag.

“Ya’ gonna love it, Livvy,” his accent making me smile serenely. It appeared to thicken under three particular emotions: excitement, anger, and.. arousal. Three emotions that the brash drawl worked with ever so dangerously perfect.

“Colt, hey, uhm, where is everyone though? Like where is anybody actually?” He only let go of my hand to graciously hold a door open before returning the smile to a young man behind a counter in the lobby. He was younger than Colton and myself, only by a few years, and had a build similar, however much less intimidating to my date for the day.

“Allen, how are ya, you little shit?” Colton’s hand was settled around my waist squeezing lightly over my hip as he addressed the kind leer of this Allan character standing at a register. They shook hands briefly, and I felt oddly like an intruding bystander gawking about while the two men exchanged hellos.

“I’m not doing too bad, Ritter. Not as good as you clearly, beating all those asses in the cage these days.” He complimented in a congratulatory, yet envious voice.

“Don’t even start, bro. You been doin’ damn good for yourself, I ain’t blind.” Colt argued. “Hey, this is Liv, by the way, Al,” he winked at me with is introduction.

“Very nice to meet you, Allen. Clearly you guys know each other?” I giggled gesturing a handshake over the counter to his accepting palm, still utterly clueless to what we were indeed doing here.

“Yeah, babe. Allen’s a fighter too, I busted him a couple times when we were first starting out.” I saw him side eye towards his friend gauging a reaction to his snide comments. “His his family runs the place here, so I called in a favor with an old friend to bring ya’ here.”

“Smug bigshot here rented the place out for you, Liv. What the hell do ya’ have on ‘em?” Allen burst out quickly, then lost his smile once realizing that little detail may have been intended to remain a secret.

I lifted a hand to tug at Colton, my eyes yielding a flood of gratitude, confusion, flattery, reserve at how much this ordeal had to have cost him, and scolding him for going to such unnecessary, yet deeply appreciated lengths.

“Let’s go, babe. C’mon I wanna show you what were doin.” His own hand outreached to touch my reddening cheek with his battered knuckles.  

I followed to a windowpane, gazing out to discover a machine resembling some sort of cable car, tucked carefully into the tree sprinkled hillside. Then, farther left, trailing down the funicular built to carry the car, the wide spans of what seemed to be the entire south side of Pittsburgh was nestled comfortably inside the bosom of the Ohio River. My cheerful face began to hurt from the extended upturning of my expression. Hot rays of the sun were gleaming reflections off the rippling water, whose color closely resembled the one in the eyes I felt staring at me from the back.

“OK, it’s ridiculously beautiful up here, Colton. God!”

“You like it, do ya’? Just wait till you see it all from the trolley. Dad used to bring me here every year for the 4th of July so we could see all the fireworks around the city.” He nodded to his right, indicating we take our places so he could show me the view he so apparently loves of his city.

The motor operated car doors slid open in unison reveling a wicker basket placed alone in the center of the empty box lined with seats. The lid of the picnic basket closed, displaying a ribbon tied bundle of pink peonies, of course. This batch however more conservative than the hefty dozens from my birthday. He thankfully read my mind, carefully stepping up behind to take me into his warm embrace, resting his prominent chin on the shoulder next to my ear.

“Whaddya think, Livvy?” His hot question shivered down my neck. Literally hot, his own breaths nearly incinerated my eardrum like some sort of well-trained dragon. The pattering of his pumping heart in the middle of my back was like the unsung lullaby I never knew I needed. I almost internally feel the cadence of my own heart catch up to sync with Colton’s.

Kiss him. Now. RIGHT NOW. Who needs pride anyway?

I loved and feared all the same the effect he had on me always. A new emotion enraptured me every time he was near, each more overwhelming than the last, and I felt him willing me to lose control. But, the pangs of heartbreak seized a friendly reminder when I felt I’d give in to those wet, desirable lips, and I held off. For now.

“You did.. ok, I guess,” I shrugged fighting to remain stern, stifling a smile behind cherry flavored lips.

“Damn, tough crowd. Ya’ little critic.” The man huffed out with an exaggerated roll of his smiling eyes. “Well, it worked for all those other girls I brought up here….”

Counter, Colton Ritter. Two could play those games, seemingly.

I threw a rear jab with my elbow to his still closely pressed abdomen, choking a goofy giggle of pain, and pleasure. He loves any fiery reaction he suck out of me.  

“Easy there, slugger. I’m kiddin’. You know that!” He defended lowly. “Besides, you know there’s only one particular green-eyed girl I have eyes for.”

My God. Usually, that sickeningly, derivative come on would’ve sent me gagging a mile in the opposite direction, running for the hills around me. But, things I normally viewed as stupid, and cheesy, and even.. unintelligent coming from most, made me feel so utterly warm with affection coming from him. I think it’s because I know when they come from his particular mouth, they’re genuine. He doesn’t have a plethora of douchebag pick-up lines tucked away in the rolodex of his mind. He’s never needed it. Girls crumbled at his very feet, which was much, MUCH to my dismay. I can’t recall how many times precisely that I worked myself into a jealous frenzy over some harlot trouncing her perky bust brazenly under his nose, grasping for one lingering look from him.

“So, what’s for lunch then? My breakfast is wearing off.” I inquired as I slowly walked around the empty car, mentally tucking away snapshots of this utterly astounding view resembling something from a post card.

 We ate quietly seated next to each other towards the front of the car, the Pittsburgh skyline painting a backdrop of pure beauty. Colton had kept it simple with his picnic basket, stuffing it with fresh fruits, some light sandwiches, and much to my satisfaction, a stockpile of my favorite truffles from the bakery neighboring The Grind. He had the memory of an elephant.

When he had pulled out the stashed box of dark chocolates from the bottom of the basket, he giggled with a shaken head at the child-like gasps and eager hand claps from me, instantly recognizing the golden, polka dot box. I still wanted to kiss him. Deeply, kiss him. The desire to do so hadn’t subsided a single inkling since his arrival to retrieve me. Matter of fact, it probably tripled. And the unintentional, habitual way he always licked that perfect pink lower lip of his after pulling it between his top row of teeth was only persecuting me all the more. I want to bite that lip. Let me! let me do it!

“Thank you, Livvy babe.” He chimed randomly, shocking me from the salacious thoughts of him that were currently running on an endless loop in my head. 

“For what, exactly?” Tucking the third truffe shamelessly in my mouth. “I should be the one thanking you. For all this..”

“Thank you for agreeing to come with me today. Ya’ didn’t have to, and honestly I didn’t fuckin’ deserve it.” His head dropped and his hand went to the back of his head, a worrisome practice of his own, I’d noticed.

I couldn’t bare the weighted sadness shown over his tightly drawn in mouth. A year ago, maybe. Maybe it would’ve felt like a sweet reward of revenge, after the hasty, crushing things he said to me. But now, it was like a bullet wound festering through my belly. Why couldn’t he see what I see in him? Yes, he is violent. Yes, he’s very much possessive and crude, and sometimes demented with anger, but he’s much more. I see his kindness, the genuinely raw way that he’s so ferociously protective over those he cares for. Colton is intelligent, he’s fearless, he’s the most brutally dedicated man to his career. Maybe all too much. He was extremely gentle sometimes, too. So innocently, childishly so. Physically, and verbally as well, if the particular moment called for him to be so.

The other hand, he was darkly passionate, almost fearfully passionate at times, actually.  And I do love those passionate moments. Damn it. But surely. Surely if he didn’t see all those interior, loveable characteristics I recognized, he had to know he was beautiful. He was a human being with color changing, blue/gray/green eyes, for goodness sake. He was picturesque sex, truly. The way he carried his shifty, built shoulders, and the way he always slid his hands in his pockets when he walked. Agonizingly accentuating his ink plastered biceps, the biceps that could probably crush steel beams in the company of Superman himself.

I took his hand, succumbing to my screaming desire to do so. “Colt, don’t. How long are you going to beat yourself up over it? I’ve forgiven you, okay? I have.”

“I’ll quit beatin’ myself up when everything is back to the way it fuckin’ should be!” He was growing frustrated internally the more we dwelt on the topic. “It shoulda never ended to begin with.” I felt his grip on my hand becoming tighter along with the tension of his jaws now. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, but it seemed his was molding his own hand to mine, afraid I would somehow vanish if he let go.

“Then.. why did it? Why’d you do it, Colton. YOU made that choice. Why?....”

He took a large, hesitated deep breath, like he was trying to inhale some imaginary courage floating through the air.

“For starters, I’m a brainless, ignorant twat, with shit for brains. And, it was the loss, Liv. I’m ashamed to say that I was blaming you for it. Or, I tried to blame you at least. I couldn’t man up and admit that Danny was just… better than me. I had to find some concrete excuse to caudle my pathetic fuckin’ ego.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it. I never pulled you away from your training, Colt. I would’ve liked to, yeah. But I wasn’t about to get in your way. I knew what the fight meant to you,” my voice was accidentally defensive.

“And I know that now. Hell, I knew it then, baby. I was just.. I don’t know.. God, Liv. I was just so in love with you. You made me mental, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I felt like I was losin’ control of myself.” His eyes said he wanted to touch my cheek, or kiss my forehead. I didn’t know what exactly, but it was clear the hand holding wasn’t dispersing his hunger for something.

“It was scary, babe. I understand that more than anyone else, Colton. The things you made me feel took the wind right out of me. Our love was a continual high, ya’ know? I’d be lying through my teeth if I tried to deny I don’t still feel that with you.” scooting closer to his tense body,  I felt that sensation of heat radiate onto my clammy skin making me shudder.

“I wanted to come to you so many times. I wanted to crawl to your damn doorstep and grovel, babe. I would’ve, too. Pride aside, if I thought it woulda made a difference. But, the shit I said to you, Livvy? I knew you hated my guts, and I couldn’t take the idea of havin’ the door slammed in my fuckin’ face.”

“And what about now, hm? Is that groveling bit still on the table or?” I winked, taking a note from his book, using one of his favorite forms of defense.

“Say the word and I’ll drop to my knees, gorgeous.”

Could he hear my panting? Was I panting aloud right now? I didn’t let my hungry stare falter, never unlocking the heated eye contact. Please kiss me, God. I can’t take it anymore! Take my mouth right now.

I could sense my brows knitting as my mind shouted soundless pleas. I wouldn’t have the nerve to make the first move and seek out his kiss, would I? Plus, I needed him to cave first since it seemed he always had me at a seeming disadvantage. He needed to break first. Even the score, if you will.

“Tempting offer, Mr. Ritter. I think I might very much enjoy the site of you on your knees.”

WHAT THE HELL, LIV ELLIOTT? Who are you? Did that just come out of your modest mouth. You deviant.

He loosened the twining of our fingers, only to drop it to the inside of my bare thigh. His touch. There. Oh, we like that spot, yes. The next bold move left his mouth meeting mine in an unhurried, calculated fashion. The breezy grazes of his lips felt like the soft flutters of a butterfly’s wings. At first, he was frozen there, a warm, handsome statue molding his lips to me. Once he collected I wasn’t going to protest, he began to lick hungrily over the seal of my mouth, letting out a throaty, male growl when I accepted his entrance. One hand remained placed still on my thigh, the other now snaked to rest on my neck, willing me closer to his kiss. Our tongues danced together quite chaotically, the insatiable desire within the exchange was an emotion neither of us could control properly. Oh, and I bit him. Yep, just like the hot swell between the apex of my thighs told me to.

I had the middle of his shirt wrapped around my fist, clenching even tighter when I opened my eyes for a brief second to find his shining back at me. There was something so, erotic about it. He seemed to be committing the exchange to his memory. I’d never been kissed while glaring open-eyed in my partners watchful pupils, and for a moment I felt I should think it strange. But it was feverishly opposite. It’s incredibly sexy, and debilitating, and I want him to do it more often. Still, I was curious.

“What’s wrong? What is it?” I pulled away, noticing the wrinkled, stretched cotton on his shirt where I was heedfully tugging at him.

“I just can’t believe I have you. I can’t fuckin’ believe this is happenin’. I missed you, Liv. I really, really did.”

Sensory overload. In every manner of the phrase. He smelled of a pungent musk, like trees and sweat. Sweaty trees? The inside of his mouth was coated in the juices from the fresh pineapple he’d eaten with lunch, and it tingled when I swallowed it down. Oh, and strawberries too, maybe? Yes, definitely some strawberry. His lips were sleek like the most elaborate silks, and wet too, making them stick to mine ever so slightly when we parted. My heart, and the sensitive place between my legs fought to steal the stimulation from the other, and I still can’t tell you where the victory laid. How was that possible though? How did a man stimulate the emotions of the heart, and the sexual tension of my sex at the very same instant? Just from a kiss, mind you. I wanted to shed tears of unadulterated bliss, and mount the length between his legs in at same time, in unison.

“Colt, you know I missed you. It goes without saying. How do you just, sweep me back in like that?” I laughed, but it was a rippling clandestine of wonderment I genuinely wanted solved. I needed a concrete, logical, palatable explanation.

“Because you never left me, baby. Not really, y’ know?”

I did know, and apparently he had known it too, contrary to hiding away from him in my little corner of the city.

“You were gone, but I know you felt what I’ve felt over the last year. I know you had to wake up fuckin’ hysterical in the middle of the night because you dreamt about me, Liv.”

I had done exactly that. At least 10 times, I’m not sure though. I lost count. The heartbreak was ineffable and haunting. Why had we tortured ourselves living life without the other? Pride? Fear? Did he feel like he deserved some sort of punishment for hurting me? Hurting us? I wanted to talk now. It was my turn to chime in, to toss my hat in the ring. But, he just kept going. I opened my mouth to interject, and he’d cut me off.

“I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you, sweetheart. I’ve never needed anything but myself, and to hell with everythin’ else. But with you… fuck. I hate my life when you ain’t in it. And it’s all just fast, and it happened so soon too, y’ know. But, I’m so sick in love with you, Elliott.”

How can he make the work ‘fuck’ fit into any sentence like it was just a casual, common word in the English language like ‘hello’ or ‘blanket’? We should have a chat with him about his etiquette soon. Or should we? We might like that word.. Especially in the bedroom.

“Can I talk now, handsome? Care if I get a few words in?” I smiled and buttoned the tip of his nose. His perfect, straight nose. How did it seem to still be in tact? He literally got punched in the face for a living? Thank you, God for keeping that incredible face unscathed.

He heaved a sigh, like the words he’d spat out had drained him in some way. And they may very well have! This is the most he’s spoken since.. well… ever.

“Sorry, baby. Yeah, you go now.”

“I love you.”

He was obviously confused when only 3, one-syllable words came out of my mouth. His head tilted wearily to the left like a curious dog, and a haze passed through his eyes, but no words.

The sun had fallen lower now, some lights began to flicker down below us in the city as we rode the car continuously down, ad back up the track. Even though we had drawn close to the water likely a hundred times now, I still felt giddy each time we reached near the edge of shore.

“That’s all I know, and that’s all the matters, Colt. I love you, and I don’t want to be without you.”

I wasn’t this person. I had always been the type to be entirely exasperated at people who said things as such, I found it unrealistic and dramatic, yet there I was. Confessing I was lost without him next to me, and I wasn’t sure how I lived before he came into the picture. Maybe I hadn’t. Not really lived. “What you did to me was cruel, and I didn’t deserve it. But I know you see that now. You made a mistake and like I said before, I forgive you.”

I was half expecting more talking since he seemed to be on such a wordy roll today. Instead, he used his lips this time. His hands. His eyes. But no confrontations. He’d used up his word limit for the day. I felt my head rush backwards at the attack he made on my lips. It was carnal. He breaths hitched from his nostrils. Breaths he seemed to be sucking from the pair of lungs inside my body. I was blindsided completely, and relishing in the upper hand he always had on me. The inside of his mouth was warm like the rest of his thick body. His hand was cupping between my legs now. In one faultlessly executed motion I was straddling his lap, clawing at the back of his neck, and I felt bare hands slide underneath my shorts now gripping on the curve of my behind lewdly. Am I about to orgasm just from the friction of his jeans?

“My God, Livvy. You smell so good, baby. I fuckin’ love that smell.” He mouthed with his lips still partially connected with mine.

The smell was his favorite perfume. He would lift the bottle off my vanity when I was doing my hair at the mirror, smell the top after popping off the lid, then generously spray it in the crook of both sides of my neck.

I felt almost sea sick with lust for him. Between the constant motion of the tram, the rolling of my hips in his lap, his hot exhales into my ears as he muttered into them. I was entirely rapt. The thin lace of a cupless bra I wore beneath my outfit had painted a high definition display of the pert buds of my breast, making it irresistible for the man not to gently tug between a hard-skinned index finger and thumb, imbibing a breathy squeak of his name from my throat. Let myself crumble hastily to the desirous high, and let him take me on the floor of this glassy box for all the world below us to see?  I’d have a very long, very disagreeable chat with myself about it later, but I couldn’t fall into that, sex, with him just yet. Although the raunchy idea of my bare flesh being trapped between his hearty torso and the cool glass windows here was mind-blowingly riveting. A little self-control was healthy, whether I internally agreed or not. However, that very scenario would be added to the growing list of X-rated fantasies involving Colton Ritter.

“O-okay, okay, Colton. Wow, hold-hold on.” I pulled away from his burning kiss, placing hand over my now seemingly chapped lips from the friction of his beard, and noticed a faint rash down my neck, leading down to my cleavage where he had suckled and scraped, and bit my tanned skin during the exchange. “As much as I don’t want to, trust me. We should pump the breaks here for a sec.”

He was stroking both opened fists across the small of my back, like you would do to soothe an upset newborn. A much lighter contrast to the way he was just pawing me like a ravenous predator.

“Shit,” he said in a barely there, seemingly embarrassed whisper. “I’m sorry, baby. I got outta control…” He wouldn’t let me see his eyes then.

“Woah!” I eagerly replied. “I wasn’t looking for an apology, Colt! I wanted that every bit as much as you.”

The electric, waterproof acquaintance that lived in my night-stand had almost run it’s race, and I needed this living, breathing, very stimulating man in front of me. Soon. ASAP. “But, I just think we should hold out, ya’ know. We need to work up to that a little.”

He was nodding in agreement now. What I believed to be honest agreeance, and not him trying to pacify me with what I wanted to hear.

“I get it, 2-1. As painfully fuckin’ irresistible as you are right now, I do get it. Him? I think he may have a little harder time acceptin’ though.” He shifted slightly upward reintroducing me to his still solid length underneath where I bestrode him, and smiled the most hellacious, satisfied grin I’d ever seen. The one he knew lit my every internal flame and sent me reeling with desire. “But the longer we wait, baby….” The sentence was left unfinished of actual words, but the drawn out moaning hum he gave, punctuated the thought exactly how he intended it to.

The lack of a touch from each there over the four hundred something days had been unrelenting, but once the ache settled a bit, it became manageable. However, now, with the blistering¸ very fresh reminder of just how pleasing and breathtaking the feel of our bodies felt when joined together, I was certain I would come undone. Sooner than later.

I squeezed over the muscle of his arms and gave him a look of warning at his crude comments. I had come to terms with the fact he was simply a sexual person. Sex was something he wasn’t ashamed to discuss, and it was something he verbally admitted his enjoyment for. I’d worry about developing the thick skin to deal with that tidbit at another time.

“You’re like a horny 15 year-old boy, Ritter.” I chortled with a blush.”

“That’s all your fault though. I can’t help it my girl is a so damn sexy.” Colton retorted with his thumb grazing the corner of my wrinkled eyes.

I wanted to ask him to paint a picture of me then. What did he see when he looked? Really looked. Physically, I mean. Sure, the new muscles from my training were settling in nicely, but otherwise, I was so… just so typical. Green eyes, small in stature, and an average dirty blonde head of mostly unruly hair. I couldn’t even stand next to the beauty of a woman that society would deem suitable for him. I blended in like camouflage amongst a crowd of women, but evidently looking from the point of view of one Colton Michael Thomas Ritter, things were much different.

I wanted more. Needed it, actually. Whatever detail he hadn’t shared with me yet, I’d find a way to pull it from him. I was all in, indeed.

 After lingering for an hour or so more, tucked away above the hustle of summertime in the city, and dropping for a quick to-go cup at The Grind, we journeyed back to my place. Andrew had given silent eyes of gleaming approval when he saw the two of us enter the shop, fingers interlocked securely, and I exhaled in relief briefly. But, a tightness quickly drew back into my shoulders once Tia’s very disapproving, fuming blue pools fluttered through my thoughts. I’d have to settle things before somehow our reuniting made it back to her. Soon. But for now, for the night, I just wanted to selfishly bask in him. In us. Our long, cold nights apart now only a painful recollection that I never wanted to think of again, nor experience.

Now, in the mostly silent concrete parking lot of my home, standing settled between his opened legs still seated sideways on his bike, I never wanted to move. Crickets sang harmoniously as we lingered in a warm hug, and the flickering street light playing as spotlight. Several moments passed without words. Awkward silence to most, but a fulfilling moment of sensual security to us. The feel of his hand caressing the small of my back right below the twin dotted indentions about my firm backside, gently rubbing left to right, and sporadic kisses touching where my neck curved into my shoulder. I closed my eyes to think of those indulgent, teasing kisses along the ticklish hump of my ribcage, then across my pelvis to meet each protruding hipbone punctuated with a wicked nip of his teeth, and I felt a sweat arise in the crease of my breasts at the idea.

“Come upstairs,” a throaty demand wafted over my lips before I could practice any tact.

He instantly halted all movements seeking the truth behind my eyes. And I noticed a flash of seemingly confusion, mixed with hopefulness.

“What?”

“Come inside with me. Spend the night…” I proposed, fully aware of what I was offering to the very hungry man draped around my waist.

I kissed him fervently, and journeyed a wandering hand to his member standing half staffed, eliciting a groan of liking from his gaping mouth. His legs tightened around me, and his fingers crawled up to wrap his grip around my tousled braid.

“Liv, baby… baby, c’mon. Hold on…hold..” A tangled string of efforted protests met my eardrums, but his hands continued to nearly squeeze right through my flesh.  Then finally, he sought out below to halt the erotic massage I was giving through the confines of his now growing jeans. “Stop, baby. Okay? Talk to me for a second.”

I felt my eyes expand when he had actually stopped my bold foreplay. Was he turning me down? “You don’t actually want to leave? Do you?” I probed.

“Hold up right there, Livvy. Don’t give me those puppy eyes,” he scolded shakily. “I know what you’re thinkin’, and you are so, so damn far off.”

I wasn’t thinking he didn’t want me. Not really, anyway. But I kept silent, wondering sincerely his reasons for declining my bed for the night.

“As bad as I want to throw you over my shoulder right this minute, and take you upstairs to see whatever sexy little lace number you’ve got on under these clothes, then fuckin’ tear it off your ass, I just think we should cool it. For tonight.” He confessed earnestly.

I was truly even furthermore enamored with him after that. He read my actions didn’t really wield my exact feelings, no matter how persistent my advances on his crotch may have been, and he resisted nobly. But, his desires shined through the ocean blue of his eyes.

“We’ve got plenty of sleepless nights ahead of us, gorgeous. I promise you that.” Colton said with a dark intonation behind his words. I believed that promise too, no hesitancy, and I looked forward to all the lost time he planned to make up for, knowing he’d execute every encounter flawlessly.

“I’ll be sure to get my rest tonight then.” I purred into his mouth before I snaked a tongue inside.

“Oh, I’d highly advise that. I prefer you well rested. And besides, I can’t have any girlfriend of mine walkin’ around with bags unda’ her eyes.” He smacked me on the tail end.

“Girlfriend?”

“Hell yes, girlfriend. You ain’t gettin’ rid of me now.” 

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 19

The newby fighters thankfully handled media horrendously, answering questions in choppy six or seven word responses. Sure, it limited the material and made the story vulnerable to the writers embellishing devices, but the speedy conclusion of the often clock-stopping, boring event was never one complained about amongst the journalistic world.

When I stepped outside in pursuit of the strangely near empty bar, I pulled the sleeves of my blazer off and draped it over my forearm, sliding my clutch between my bicep and ribcage. The crisp, white silk of the tank top swayed with the calm, cool breeze of the nighttime air, mixing with my nervously sweating skin, creating an array of chill bumps over my flesh. An exiting patron held the door open as I swept inside the dimly lit sports bar. There weren’t many tables, only 3 tv’s, and no blasting music. Hence the lack of customers, I’m sure. Colton was easy to spot, hunching at a high-top near the glass front of the building. He hadn’t ordered a drink yet, once again, trying desperately to execute that military like, gentlemanly manner his father Michael, had instilled in him, presumably. I dropped the weight of my tired body in the un-cushioned wooden seat, and huffed aloud in the relief. “That didn’t take too long,” he stated first.

“Those two were complete media virgins. They didn’t have much to say.” I confirmed as I massaged in the sanitizer I applied to my palms, and scanned over the sparse clients.  

“Want me to grab you a drink or somethin’? I didn’t know if you were still a martini girl, so I held off.” Had his accent become thicker with his hair?

“Actually, I’ll just take a seltzer. Lime on the side too, please.” Tia would probably be able to sniff out the scent of alcohol in my sweat like a hungry hound dog, and have my tail for drinking while training.

She had graciously granted me a pass on my birthday, so I didn’t see it wise to push my luck any further. Come to think of it though, when in the actual hell had I become the girl to drink seltzer water and lime?

My ex now turned waiter for the moment returned with a small square tumbler filled with fizzy, clear liquid, and a long neck in his other hand. His black shirt painted over the ripples of his back, the muscles there moved like thickened water down the spread of him. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when he shops for himself. I can only imagine his decision-making unraveling something like, “yeah, black t-shirt. I can always use another black t-shirt.”

“Thank you,” I said between lengthy sips. “And thanks too for, um… the flowers. They were stunning. You really didn’t have to, but it was a sweet gesture, Colton.”

“So I did okay, huh? They’re your favorite?” He hoped with questioning eyes, taking a quick pull of his sweating beer.

“Yes, Colt. They’re my favorite. You did well. Extremely well.”

“I owe you another 50 dozen more, Liv….”

Here is comes. The conversation was about to take a dicey dive into the abyss.

“It’s not flowers I need, Colton. I think you know a million dollars’ worth of pretty bouquets won’t fix, this.” I drew an invisible line through the space from me, to him, “It’s not gonna fix us. Or, whatever us there was, I guess.”

He sat his half empty beverage on the scuffed table tap, and I noticed the glass chatter against the surface. He was shaking. This wasn’t the angry, poked bear shaking though. This was the abused, cowering, wounded bird shaking.

“Yeah, Liv. I get that, okay? I just didn’t know where to fuckin’ start, ya’ know? I didn’t wanna get too pushy..” he began, while drawing nervous figure-eights with his callused finger tips along the cracks in the table top.  “But, I gotta know. I ain’t tryna put you on the spot or nothin’, but is there any fixing it, babe? I have no right to asking you this shit, I realize that. But, just give me somethin’ here, Liv. Should I just write us off?”

The million dollar question. How was I supposed to give him the answer his desperate eyes so anxiously desired, when I didn’t have it myself? I loved Colton Ritter, no matter how blindly I wanted the fact to be untrue, there was no refuting it. But, I couldn’t shake the reluctancy I felt towards him either. That apprehensive, yet yearning brew filling up my gut. The next words I spoke to him would be the defining moment of what my future held, so I hesitated. Taking as long as I needed to sort through the perfect retort.

“You act like that’s such a simple question to answer, Colt. You have no idea what you did to me for Christ sakes,” my fist gently, but effectively smacked the table, clinking the glass beverages there. I refrained from chewing his hide in nagging anger, but I wasn’t about to hold back on what I truly needed to say. “I was a literal basket case. As damn foolish and weak as that may sound, it’s a fact. I missed work, I made myself sick from the unrelenting crying. Like, seriously, there was actual vomit, Colton. I wore your fuckin clothes around the apartment like a lost mutt!” I could see him tense entirely, almost wincing aloud in shame and heartache. And I half wondered if maybe he’d done some of his own shameful grieving during our time apart. “Every day for nearly a year felt like one big, constant punch to my gut, making it almost hard to even catch a decent breath. I’ve been better for a while now, but every single day, your stupid, smug face finds its way into my head….” I allowed myself a pause to try and extinguish the burning tears I knew were about to come loose, but there was no use. Once the first fell, I just opened the watery dam. “If I’m being honest, part of my really just hates you. A big chunk of me, as a matter of fact. But I know the love is still there, as much as the hate. Probably more,” snubbing through my tearful fit. “I don’t think I’m ready right this minute, Colton. For us, I mean. I think I might be at some point, but who’s to say… I can’t name the day and time. So, if that isn’t enough for you, and you feel like I’m a waste of your time, then yes, you should just move on.”  

Th brawniest, hard as stone man I’d ever known, raised a hand to wipe dry his weepy eyes. It wasn’t a hysterical, sobbing outburst, and an actual tear may not have fallen free, but they were there. The glazy sheen over his blue toned eyes tonight gave him away. He blew out the breath he’d apparently been holding in before his mustered the composure to speak back.

“I’m on your time, Livvy, alright? I’ll just stay outta your way, and if ya’ want me, you know I’m here. I fucked up. Royally, to say the least. There is so much I wanna say, and I hope you gimme the chance to piece it all together for you someday in the near future. I’m sorry seems to be the most important thing right now. And I’m gonna say it every day I have the chance. I’ll hang back as best I can, okay? And if someone else so happens to come along, for either of us, then I guess that’s that, huh?” He reached forth his hand to graze as gently as a summer breeze over my resting fingers, a current of G-force energy rattled through my every internal organ. I didn’t jerk away from his touch this time, instead allowing myself the loving awakening I had longed for the past days without him. He’d be the death of me, whether it be in happiness or misery, I wasn’t sure.

“I think that sounds like the best way to handle it, Ritter. I can work with that,” I sheepishly smiled, curling an auburn strand behind my ear. “Now, I better get home and get some sleep.” Picking my clutch up first, then swallowing the last mouthful of my drink, I stretched my petite legs searching for the ground below me. Before I could drop on my heels, he had swiftly came to my side, offering his hand out to steady my drop from the heighted stool. The man was so full of these sickeningly, syrupy sweet courtly gestures, and I might as well have been licking the plate.

“Let me walk you to the car this time. Please?” he almost begged holding my jacket open for me to slide my arms in.

“How about I walk you to your bike, and we’ll call it a night.” It wasn’t a question. I wanted to seem as independent as I could to him, while also establishing again that I’d be okay without him if things didn’t pan out with our relationship.

I went out on a wobbly whim and locked my arm through the empty crease in his elbow, while his hand was snuggled deep into his jean pockets, and out of a side eyed glance, and detected a half smile on his lips. “My bike is right here on the corner. Is you car close?”

“Close enough. Don’t you worry about me, kid,” I winked before breaking my clutch on his arm as we reached his black bike parked by a ticking meter.

“Hey listen, Liv. I’m thinking about sticking with Temple Fitness. Y’know like, staring up a membership to train there and stuff. But if you’re not good with it, then I’m out.” He remarked strapping his helmet around his bearded, calico chin.

“I think I can handle it, Colton. Just stay outta my way, big guy..” it was clear by the playfulness of my high pitched, girl giggly that I was testing the waters with some flirty banter. The saluted “yes, boss” he tossed back told me he was aware of my joking tone. When I took a couple slow paces in exit, bidding him a goodnight, he met my steps, and leaned in for a hopeful kiss to my pert cheek. \

“Not yet, Colt. Not yet, okay?” The dangerously close presence of his lips to me could’ve shot me a million feet in the air above us. But, I had to keep the line drawn, for now anyways. He wasn’t out to the woods yet.

When I gave him my back in search of my own car down the sidewalk, he yelled my name, muffled through the visor of his helmet.

“Hey 2-1!” I turned slightly, never ceasing my footsteps, careful not to lose my balance while walking backwards in my strappy shoes. “You look better than ever, babe. And I’ll happily take my punishment for sayin’ it.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, and I curled my lips up with brows raised in disbelief, yet satisfying pleasure, winking with no words, and went on my merry way. I heard his bike fire up with an almost lion like roar, and he sped off in the opposite direction. Revving his accelerator, no doubt in teenage like, hormonal ego.

 The next morning, all too bright, and much too early I entered the office hanging my sleepy head, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events the previous evening. Through groggy rasps, I served my morning hellos to passing co-workers, determined to reach the noiseless four walls of my office and downing the contents of my Styrofoam cup. If I timed it just right, I thought maybe I could even sneak a 30-minute powernap sometime around the 10 o’clock hour. When I crossed the concierge desk, Layla, the awkward, mousy receptionist waved a hand to halt me.

“This package came to you this morning, Ms. Elliott.” The box rectangular box, wrapped in wrinkled brown paper had apparently been delivered early morning to the office.

I thanked Layla the messenger, and stepped over the threshold of the empty elevator. The package was unmarked, only adding to the quizzical allure, but I held my eager hands from slashing through the wrapping until I got into my private office. I blindly flipped on the single light switch, my purse thudding onto the neatly organized desktop calendar. I ripped the first corner of the box opened before I was even sat into the swivel seat, when a small folded sheet of paper fell into the floor.

Livvy,

Thought you may need this. The other one seemed little ratty. I think I cut it just how you like them. There’s plenty more where this came from.

Love,

Colt

I dropped the lid of the package, peeling back a translucent layer of tissue paper to find a white, slightly dingy colored Pittsburgh Pirates t-shirt. One I very much recognized as belonging to the gift giver himself. A weak smile had instantaneously crept across my face as I ran a thumb over the fading of the smooth polyester blend. I pondered, and settled on a decision in that second, that I was going to unapologetically relish the games he’d be willingly to play to win back my affection. I wasn’t wholeheartedly dreadful though, and I knew sending him thanks for the thoughtful efforts was the right thing to do, so I sent him a text to extend some reserved gratitude. Giving him the impression I was appreciative, but wasn’t eating out of his veiny hands just yet.

Tia was distant as of recent. Cold as a sparkling Pittsburgh frost before dawn. The conversation we had about my exchanges with Colt weren’t half as pleasant, and supportive as my phone call with Sara. Tia hated the man, not saying I blamed her. No matter what he said, or didn’t say, the gifts he gave, or the groveling that arose, she wasn’t forgetting the past. Colton Ritter was blacklisted indefinitely in her book. So much so, I even had to gulp down concerns that fizzled for my own friendship with her.

Climbing the steel steps of the cage with her was never too terribly intimidating before that night. I always knew no matter how repetitive she’d  be with her promising that she wouldn’t take it easy on me, I could always sense the restraint of her moves. Yet again, before that night… The trifling stomps of her bare feet across the mat would’ve signaled danger, if the haughty shove passed my shoulder hadn’t already. “Chew that rubber, Elliott,” she yelled unkindly, instructing me to hurry with my mouth piece so we could get the session underway.

She was bouncing upward, shoving her knees into her chest, stretching to shatter my thighs with one of her categorical back kicks. Willow was crouched in the floor beside the metal confines, arms crossed about her chest in curious observation, Tia’s harshness not unnoticed by her and the onlookers in the workout room. We danced the usual mirrored waltz across the octagon from each other, each waiting for someone to stretch forth searching for the first connecting jab. Before my mind had a single minute to strategize an assault, Tia lunged lowly to bearhug my legs right from beneath my own body, and my elbows nearly ricocheted off the canvas floor. The sweat of my attacker was already profusely flowing, more so from the rumbling anger, and probable resentment she was feeling for the likes of me. We wormed around on the patched ground, she grabbing a lock around my legs, me tugging on her extended forearm. Amongst our grunts, and gasps of pain, a very confused and scratchy voice sung out above all else.  

“The fuck? Liv?”

My eyes beckoned toward Colton’s wide stance next to Willow, but Tia didn’t let up. The more I fidgeted for release, the tighter she wound her meager form around me. When the match between us didn’t halt, I heard his intrusions slice the room again.

“LIV!” But this time, it wasn’t a questioning tone. He was demanding acknowledgment, and more importantly an explanation.

My “friendly” opponent loosened her vice, and I lunged a swift, fumbly kick to shake her off. If my face wasn’t already reddened from the efforts of the spar, it sure would’ve been painted with  a bright shade when I stood to see the concerned contortions of his always tempting mouth. With his hands raised in dumbfounding confusion awaiting his answer, I rushed towards the cage door to meet him in the corner he was heading to.

“THIS is what you’ve been doing here, Livvy? What the hell?” He was lazily scratching a hand through the brown of his beard.

“Not that it’s a single ounce of your business, Colt, but yes. Started a few months back, Tia suggested it.” My feet firm and solid under his disapproving stares.

“Oh, c’mon Liv. I don’t mean to sound like a bossy prick about it, ok? It’s your life, you can do what ya’ want with it. It just… I dunno.. scares me, I guess…” I turned to notice his restless hands, squirming in fists at his side, and his teeth visibly grinding behind closed chops. “I hate myself for hurting you. How did ya’ think I was gonna take to seeing someone smash a fist to those pretty cheeks, babe?”

My gloved fingers didn’t hesitate to seek out his own, stilling his concerns. I intertwined our digits, and I swear I felt the life creep back into me.  His eyes closed under feathery lashes, and there was no denying the husky exhalation that purred from him at our connecting flesh.

“I’m not some.. some weak kitten, Colt. I know you think I’m just a lowly damsel who needs a constant eye watching over her, but, that’s not the case.”

Although maybe very “me: Tarzan, you: Jane” to the outsiders perspective, Colton was very… well, male. He considered his place as my partner to be one of the valiant knight, shielding me from any oncoming harm. My humble opinion? It was all part of his blue collar, endearing charm. But, he’d have to reel it in on the aspect of my fight training.

“It’s not that I think ya’ need it 24-hour surveillance, kid. As a matter of fact, I think it’s just a shot to my ego that you don’t need it, ya’ know. I just wanna protect ya’, alright? Damn it, you’re always makin’ me… makin’ me talk so much, 2-1.” He enfolded my small hand tighter under his grip.

“I appreciate that. My very own lethal prrotector, huh?” I winked and wet my bottom lip catching his eye. “Ask Tia though, I hold my own with these gloves, big shot. Be careful, or you may have to find out first hand.”

Cool it, hormones. You might as well just jump his bones right here.

The flirtation went crawling like a cold shutter obviously over his roasting skin, and his eyes were swirling through shades of blue. “I would happily take that beating, sweetheart!”

Walk away. Now. Go liv, you’re drooling.

“I gotta get back to her though, or I’m gonna pay the price. See ya’ around?” I was securing the gloves assuredly, ready to bid riddance to him before his animal senses detected my feminine excitement, and he held me back.

“I’ll be around, yeah. Oh, hey girl! Nice shirt, by the way..” I went for a drink of my room temperature sports drink and nearly gagged on it. No way he couldn’t notice I was sporting the package he’d delivered a few short hours ago.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #tom hardy fanfiction #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 28

The eve of fight night fell, and Colton was exhibiting extremely peculiar behavior. Not a bad type of peculiar necessarily, but the man just wasn’t his usual self. When I woke up to head for a swim at Temple, the bed was empty on his side and he hadn’t left a note, or word with my parents as to where he disappeared off to. In fact, according to mom, he must’ve left the house before 6 a.m. when she and dad left for their walk. It was a routine they had with the dog back home, and they had been continuing the morning exercise while on their visit to the city.

When I got to my locker at the gym, there was a single Peony taped to the handle, and a square yellow note tied to it’s stem. The easily identified chicken scratch belonged to the missing man in question, so I tore it open jaggedly to gather some answers.

   Livvy,

Enjoy your swim, & don’t you dare think of doing anything in the weight room. I told Cal to watch you. You have a noon appointment with that girl who does your hair, & a 10 a.m. massage too. I have some stuff to take care of today but be at home and dressed by 6 tonight. Wear that white dress I like.  The one from that party at the Pilot a couple months ago. And don’t eat. I’ll check in later. I LOVE YOU

C

Colton had been a lot of things the last year, but romantic was a new side. He rendered me speechless from heartbreak, pleasure, and laughter on a fair amount of occasions, but this was unfamiliar lands.  Never did I believe such a cynical, wild, tormented soul like his could conjure up the cleverness or the desire to throw together whatever plan he had in the works. But I’d obey the orders, and call mom to steam the crisp white, ankle-length, summer gown he referred to from the office gala event he suffered through as my plus-one, and it’s also the first instance he suckered me into bathroom sex in the family stall. The thin, flesh-hugging stretch of the drapery curved into me, and the low-cut of the back allowed him a subtle peep-show during the owners speech, which had him nearly feverish for a taste of me before the main course was served. I was chatting with Ryan who was seated at our dinner table, when Colton told me I looked a bit peaked and needed a few minutes of good ol’ fresh air. Thoroughly confused, I followed his lead as he took my hand guiding me through the bar area into the public pavilion of the venue. The details are a bit foggy, but I can’t forget the memory of his thirsty tongue licking a bead of summertime sweat from the valley between my breasts.

I concluded on returning to my natural blonde look at the salon, and sang the praises of the on-staff masseuse at SJS Salon on my way out the door. The unwind of my slow laps in the therapy pool, and the exceptional massage had me exuding peaceful relaxation. After the continual sessions’ day & night at the gym, in the cage, in the weight room, at the Pilot, some self-love and spa time was the perfect prescription for a Zen Liv. And I wanted all my tensions free and clear before I met up with Colton for this mysterious evening ahead, so I could fully enjoy the company of my perfectly imperfect companion. Wherever the pathway of our evening led, I knew I’d retire home once it was said and done feeling cherished, and probably horny.

I was puckering to smooth out a plentiful layer of rose-shaded smudge proof lipstick at my lighted vanity when I saw my mother peep around the unlatched door. I looked away from my own reflection to see hers smiling back at me from over my shoulder, as she brushed my hair back curious to discover my earring choice. This overly-feminine, lady-like and sophisticated side of her only child was a glimpse of the daughter she wanted 10 years ago when I was wearing sweats to school every day, and only wore heels for prom or homecoming dances. Mom stayed dressed to the nines every day of the week whether it be a run to the post-office or even a check of the mailbox, so seeing the vision of herself even more so in me now with sleek hair, and a posh taste in stilettos was probably the proudest she had been in a decade.

“Honey, you look excellent! Your little nose healed up just perfectly too, I see.”

Of course, mother. That’s what most important, ay’?

“Yep. It feels fine now. Thanks, mom.” I pursed my mouth, tucking both lips in a stark line and misted a lavish amount of Colton’s favorite perfume onto the exposure of my neck.

“Do you have any ideas what Colton has planned for you? You’re dressed awfully formal.” My mother asked turning her head to survey the final touches of accessory to my ensemble.

“He told me what to wear, and when to be ready to go, so that’s about the most I’m aware of. He’s been pretty shady today. And we both know he’s developed a keen talent for lying lately, seeing as how he managed to get you and daddy here.”

The last text I received from him at 2 o’clock that afternoon was a strange selfie of he and Andrew at the forefront of an impressive Styrofoam cup pyramid they’d apparently built on the display counter at The Grind. Those two had become quite the odd pairing lately, but I was happy Colton jived so well with at least one of my friends. I assumed he just went by the shop for his usual black coffee to-go, and Drew simply asked his assistance on a new merchandise display, which turned into the two of them goofing.

Mom checked her waterproof, step counting watch for the time as she followed be into the bedroom I shared with Colton. “It’s 5 minutes to 6 right now, Livvy. Have you talked to him?”

My heels clacked when transitioning from the carpet, to the tile down the hall. I clicked the unlock button of my cell to place a call to the very man sitting on an arm of the couch in an open stance, with those hefty forearms pushing in his knees. He stood upon hearing the soft tick of my heels step over the rug under the coffee table, and I was able to get a much desired, exploratory look at the very, very surprising dapper two-piece suit he sported. It was an oxford blue, atop a slightly wrinkled button-down shirt that he left casually, and very appealingly gaping open just enough to taunt me with his pecks. He was explicitly, lethal and delicious in the foreign dress of any sort of formal attire. Maybe more so even than those perfectly snug gray sweats I pulled off him on many an ‘afternoon delight’ occasion. That is, assuming I have to have him clothed at all.  

“Well hello there, Mr. Ritter. Someone is looking exceptionally handsome tonight, I see. I must say you wear this look well, babe.” I admired, pulling on the lapels of his jacket to situate the wrinkle of his shirt. I tenderly grazed a manicured nail over the freshly shaved goosebumps of his neck, and smiled romantically looking up to him under extended lashes.

“You two enjoy yourselves! Tony and I are going to grab some dinner, and we’ll lock up when we get back. I’m sure it’ll be a late night for you guys,” mom spoke up, still standing behind me undetected. Colton tilted around me to smile appreciatively at her before she turned in pursuit of the spare room where dad was napping.

“Will you ever walk into a room ‘n not instantly have me wantin’ to rip off whatever you wearin’, baby? You look…you look fuckin’ perfect, Liv. I mean that.” He fiddled with the every-day, dainty, gold letter pendant I wore as he spoke, then touched his pointer finger to the heart-shaped opening at the center of my satiny lips.

I wondered reasonably if we’d ever even make it passed the 4 walls of our bedroom seeing the adamant, alluding examinations we were trading in the silence of our family room.

“As long as you promise to replace whatever it is you just have to rip off, then be my guest by all means.” I popped one shoe-covered foot into the air, and boosted up on the other desperate to touch myself to his mouth.

“Get. The hell. Out. That. Door. Now. With ya’ teasin’ little ass.” Colton palmed the front of my dress to clutch over the warmness of my womanly center.

We altered his plan a bit, and decided my car would be the most practical option for transportation considering the height of my designer heels. Once we exited the driveway, I couldn’t help but blast him with pestering questions, and chatting.

“Just sit tight, ‘ight. We ain’t far. You can hold out a few minutes, Livvy. A surprise here ‘n there ain’t gonna kill ya’.”

I unhappily sat tight as advised and waited a drawn out 10-minute car ride that steered us to a parking meter on the street near The Grinds’ entrance on the sidewalk. The white light of the ‘open’ sign that would’ve typically been plugged in the window was powered off, along with the appearance of any other lights, or evidence of business behind the door.

“Colt? What are w-“

“No more questions, okay? Hold on.”

I watched him shove my keys from the ignition inside the pocket lining of his coat, to jog around and assist me from the passenger seat onto the concrete walkway.  I smelled something fishy, but I couldn’t place a sure finger on it just yet. With one arm clinging around my average size waist and the other holding my hand, we waited for the street sign to change then scurried along the crosswalk. Colton confirmed the time on his watch just as he gestured me to enter the strange darkness of the generally busy coffee shop.  

I couldn’t move much passed the entry mat laying in front of the doorway due to the pitch darkness of the room, so I waited intriguingly for my next instructions. Colton moved in behind me and stepped straight for the location of the light switch he was apparently familiar with. Rather than the hardwired overhead lights of the café igniting with the flipping on of electricity, twinkling, warm garden decorations on green strands taking their place. The dusky glow hanging over our heads bared a table for two waiting empty in the middle of the open floor, and some sort of urbane, bubbly beverage sweating inside a tin bucket of ice. Calm, lazy melodious music struck up, and I finally escaped my confusion to scan for Colton.

“These a’ for you, baby. The best, for the best.”

He offered me a familiar a pink, fluffy bouquet which had become his apparent staple over the last year, and I could smell the odorous fog from gift laying in my arms. Taking a closer look over his face, I noticed he’d groomed up exceptionally precise, and his beard had been combed and trimmed. Colton Ritter may have even been wearing hair product, Ladies and Gentlemen. His matured facial lines, and the barely detectable softening sag around his eyes added a story-telling detail to his aging mug, but I admired every frown line, and ghosting scar.

I rested my arms over his shoulders, dangling the hefty bouquet in my hand behind his back to settle in for a lengthy embrace when a begging, muffled reverberation of hunger grumbled from my empty stomach.

“Well, you did tell me not to eat, silly!” I patted over my angry insides to stifle its interruption.

“I got just the thing to fix ya’ right up. Here. Let’s get you in a seat and I’ll be back.” He took my hand, and I took the seat he offered up, placing the flowers in a waiting vase at the center of his table spread.

Colton lit four small tea-light candles with a zippo frim his pants pocket, and kissed the crown of my freshly washed hair.

“I like the blonde, by the way,” he winked dragging his feet backwards to disappear into the back kitchen.

A few clanging plates and some ruffling feet could be heard as I sat legs crossed, and chin rested on my elbows. Mother Liz always cut my arms with a slap when I would prop my elbows up onto the tables, chastising my etiquette or lack thereof. I repeatedly listed off a careful list of the ‘important dates’ to mark the many milestones of our relationship to assure I hadn’t forgotten some crucial event on this day. There had to be some reason Colton had gone to such odd, starry-eyed measures, and my nosey, sharp-witted journalistic side was beating me to death to get to the real story hidden under wraps.

STOP IT! Let the man have this. Don’t ruin it because you’re a meddlesome pest who can’t just enjoy a surprise.

Just then, a smell so aromatic and reeking of garlic wafted like a puffy cloud of deliciousness into my nose. I inhaled deeply through my nostrils to trace the yummy culprit, and found the man exiting a revolving door that hid the kitchen. He had two enormous, blotchy, grease-stained pizza boxes marked from my very favorite deep-dish joint stacked in one arm, and a covered Dutch oven dish cradled in the left arm. Colt’s tongue peeped like the head of a snake from the corner of his mouth, walking strategically careful so not to drop the hot contents of his clutches.

“So, since you trained so hard, and it nearly killed ya’ cuttin’ out all those carbs, I figured you’d maybe want some’n downright filthy ‘n covered in cheese to hit the spot. Drew tried to tell me I should get some fancy takeout from that place you two are always goin’ to, but I knew this would suit ya’.”

He opened one of the boxes to reveal a cheese deep-dish smothered in sliced, tender black olives.

“You want me to eat the whole thing?” I chuckled with a large goading laugh, and quarter-sized eyes.

“One fa’ you,” he answered sitting himself to open the other cardboard box in his place setting. “’and one fa’ me.” Colton rubbed his hands together anxiously, like a giddy boy about to dive into an ankle-deep mud puddle.

“But you may wanna save a lil’ room for this too, baby.”

I watched as he pulled the sturdy lid from top the black dish, and fluffy, warm steam rolled from the inside. Peeping over the edge in anticipation, I discovered a dark chocolate, gooey treat, topped with whole praline pecans and stringy caramel drizzles.

“Colt, you made that? All by yourself?!” I smiled adoringly when the look of utter pride beamed from his coy face.

It was a turtle dessert my mom taught me to make, and my absolute favorite. Colton had stayed been at my old apartment one night, back before the fight, and said he needed a ‘sugar fix’. The city was covered in powdery snow and muck, with temperatures reaching their lowest degree all winter. Neither of us could stand the thought of leaving the warm solace of my couch, so I whipped up that same dessert for him. We demolished the entire contents straight from the dish, sharing a spoon for vanilla bean ice cream on the side.

“Liz wrote the ingredients down for me, but I remembered pretty well how you made it that night. Don’t be gettin’ all wound up before ya’ even taste it now,” he tittered taking his first bite of pizza.

 We ate majority of each cheesy pie, (him asking for a slice of mine) then hysterically cackled for a good half hour after he sampled (and gagged on) a swig of my favorite merlot from a local winery. When our favorite Bob Dylan tune struck up on his iPod, I asked him to dance, and he obliged hugging me tightly with one arm, and gnawing on the last piece of pizza he clutched to in the other. The raw, real-life imperfections of the moment that would’ve had most females curling a lip in disgust, and trouncing far, far away from a man with such qualities as Colton Ritter, only had me needing his presence in my life more so.  

“How’d you pull this off Ritter? I must say, I didn’t know you had it in ya’, babe.” I muffled with a full mouth of his well-made chocolate cake as I dabbed the corners of my mouth.

“Just called in a favor to my pal Andrew, no biggie. The bastard only made me pay him 200 bucks to make up for his ‘lost profit.’” Colton used his most sardonic air quotes to underline Andrew’s no doubt tantrum for his role.

“You been workin’ so damn hard, Livvy. And I just wanted to do somethin’ to make you feel special. Help ya’ relax and take the edge off of a lil’ about tomorrow night. ‘N judging by those sexy, heavy little wine eyes you been givin’ me, I’d say I did a fine job.”

The excellence of the entire evening, hand-in-hand with now a present buzz of red wine after so many months, made the air around me feel as if it touched my skin like expensive cashmere. My insides felt as if they were humming with muggy decadence, and no unkind thought weighed on my mind.

“Oh God, stop it!” I covered my face, ashamed of his insinuating light-weight insult.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Liv. I ain’t just sayin’ shit right now. I mean that. You’re perfect now, jus’ like this. And ya’ perfect on the couch with your face painted in one of those goopy masks you put on before you check your work email at night.” He leaned over the round table, mazing through the empty boxes, and melting candle wax staining the tablecloth to encase my fingers. Any fool could see there was nothing but earnest passion in his eyes, and a blatantly truthful, sureness in his voice.

“I love you. And don’t sell yourself so short! You are the perfect one. Even with all those demons, and whatever else is hiding in that head of yours.” I wanted to caress and pet his always warm cheek, but the distance between us caused me to settle for a tight squeeze of his hand, and a kiss to his scarred fingers.

“A perfect man wouldn’ta let somebody like you get away, baby.”

“Stop with that! We’re here now. Together. And we’re happy. Plus, there are more important things going on right now we should be worryin’ about.”

I knew I could back out of my fight right now, even the night before, and Colton would support my decision without hesitation, and anyone else who didn’t, would suffer at the hand of his consequence. The reality of what I knew I’d be doing only a few short hours from now, was a frightening one. But, one that I had agreed to for myself at the hands of no ones’ force. I wanted to make Colton proud of me for something more than just having my nose shoved in front of a computer screen 10+ hours a day. I had to prove to him, the world, my parents, and mainly myself that I was capable of greatness. That I had the potential to step out in faith, and achieve something like this with some courage like the old Liv.

“We’ve done everything in the gym we possibly coulda, baby. You’ve done everything. You need t’ believe in yourself like you were always tellin’ me. I’ll be there standin’ in that corner for you, I promise. And if ever you wanna cut it, just say the world ‘n we’ll walk outta there first round. You can do this, 2-1. Clear eyes, remember?”

“Thank you, Colton. For being the man that you are, and sticking with me through this even though we both know you hated the idea. And for all this God, it’s incredible, really. I’ve desperately needed some alone time with my guy.” I scooted to the front ledge of my chair, resting on the table to wink suggestively at the tantalizing specimen opposite my gazes.

“Calm ya’self, you dirty girl. I know wha’s goin’ on up in the head o’ yours. I got one more place I need to take you. Then, I can assure you…. I can really fuckin’ assure you, that I’m gonna get real good and close to every piece of your creamy skin under that dress.”

tags: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #elizabeth olsen #tommy conlon #thegrind

[alitheamateur]

The Grind- Chapter 22

(gif by @vanessacarlysle)

All my perpetual fretting over Tia’s reaction to the news of my reconciliation with Colton was all for…well…. It was all 100% necessary. She yelled phrases such as “if you wanna let the asshole back in your bed, you can clean up the mess he’s gonna make,” and “what did the dickhead do to convince you?” Both valid, however brutally honest they may have seemed. I made up my mind not to push it on her just yet, but to tip-toe through the tulips, if you will, until she warmed up to him. The two of them were quite similar in more ways than one, so they were bound to fall into at least a civil relationship sooner or later. Or, there unpredictable, combusting similarities would eventually just explode like the boom of a nuke. 

As for progression on the Ritter/Elliott home front, things were moving along nicely. We were back to our morning coffee routine at The Grind, and our running schedule had been carefully decided for Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. One of those particular Sunday workouts had navigated us to the new home Colton had purchased as of late, so he could give me the tour. He’d met me at my apartment that morning, carless, but I hadn’t considered where he’d began his run from.

He’d moved in a little over 5 months ago, and judging at first glances the deposit was heavy for a place like this. The brick front, two story structure must have been newly built on the street because the miniscule grassy path he did have in his side yard, was just ever so slightly sprouting from the clumpy, muddy surface. He led me up a black painted front porch through the front door, seemingly eager to show off his purchase from a successful years earnings.

“Home sweet home. Here we are!” He remarked before breaking the plain into his den. “Whatddya think?”

I thought it wasn’t the place I pictured him in, for starters. Not in pessimistic manner or anything, the space was merely more modern, and suburban for what I imagined his quarters to be like. The cabinets of a kitchen just to the right of the main entrance, were bright white, and stealthy black appliances accentuated more bleach white on the walls. Upon trailing deeper into the area, we entered a hardwood floor living room, where the navy of his leather couch shined under the natural light blazing in from a large window.

“It’s super nice, Colt! You keep it so… clean.” Seriously, there wasn’t a stich of the rug out of place. No molding take-out boxes on his countertops, or discarded shoes strung wildly about.

“Give it time,” he pointed at me with a wide smile. “I ain’t been here long enough to destroy it yet.”

“Don’t expect me to come over and clean the place, mister. This girl is no maid,” I said overlapping my arms in a forewarning.

“You could be. Hey, we could get you one of those little outfits and everything,” Colton said wagging his eyebrows in suggestion. “I’m gonna go shower real quick, then we’ll take the bike back to your apartment. Just hang out here, and give me 20. Unless of course, you’d like the tour of my shower too..”

Okay, yes please! I need to get a good luck at the tub. Inspect the plumbing, and the drains or whatever..

“I don’t have a change of clean clothes, silly. But, you get all squeaky clean, then I’ll take you on the tour of my new place. The bedroom is to die for...” He dropped his head back in a cantankerous huff as if I was torturing him for my own pleasure.

While he left me unsupervised, fidgeting on the couch, I decided some friendly, not at all psychotic girlfriend snooping would be harmless. Wandering aimlessly in my sock feet about the sitting area and kitchenette, something in particular sparked my interest plastered on the double doors of his refrigerator. In carefully executed newspaper snippets, were all of my published works from the last three years held up on display by small, coinlike magnets. One piece I’d written on an injured All-American local boy who had withdrawn his commitment to Pitt due to apparent substance issues. Various tidbits from the usual Steelers coverage, and my article from his fight with Mendez.

Thin, chalky newspaper nearly covered the entire spread of the left side freezer door. He appeared to have saved nearly every published work that had my name attached to it. What made the gesture even more monumentally romantic, was that The Pilot wasn’t available for subscription, nor a newsprint you could grab at any local convenient store on your morning milk run. It was only available for purchase at two outdoor newsstands in the city, one being a small cart on the sidewalk at the front entrance of our main office. The other was easily a 20-minute commute from any of the local businesses he frequented. Neither spot being one he’d cross by coincidence on his morning jog through downtown, or even the closest grocery store, or Mac’s. Meaning the man had made a specific trip, every Thursday morning to spend $3.75 on a paper that he could’ve searched the internet for. I sketched a feathery finger over the printed words, hearing a single dolloped tear drip below at my feet to the crisp tile of his kitchen floor. He really had never sincerely left me, just like he said only a handful of days ago.

“There’s more in an old cardboard box on the rack under the coffee table.” His stealthy, barefoot approach behind me was completely undetected, or I had just been so preoccupied with my discovery that any background noise was hushed.

I faced him, startled, carelessly forgetting to wipe the still running stream of tears, and hiccupped to repress audibly weeping.

“Oh, woah. Woah, baby. Hey, what’s wrong?” Colt stepped once to reach me, and cloaked me into the embrace of his grey tee, blotched with undried remnants of his shower. He placed both hands to my cheeks, leaving my face trapped between his scuffed, worked palms. Eyes searching over my face, like he was looking for the reason of my tears written somewhere across my forehead.

“I’m fine, seriously. It’s nothing.” I nearly snorted to sniff the running of my nose. Yeah, that was convincing. He’ll be right off your back now.

“Talk to me, Livvy. What’s goin’ on, huh? I know tears when I see ‘em. Especially yours.”

“You did this? You kept them? All, of them?”

A hesitant, “U” shape danced over his lips at my question. “Of course I did, babe. Well, I almost missed one week, but I told the guy at the stand I’d give him 20 bucks if he could get me a copy.”

It drew a laugh from both of us, mine still mixed with some joyful tears.

“It’s got your name on it, Liv. Hell, I woulda paid all the money in my wallet if you had written the alphabet down and had it published. I told you once I was proud a’ ya’, and I meant it.”

“I just didn’t… I never thought… I didn’t know you cared this much. I’m surprised you went through that trouble, especially since we weren’t even together for over half of these.” I looked back for the tenth time over the collection marked with my signature.

“I think that’s when I started to care so much. When we weren’t together, I mean. Because y’know, that’s the weird, twisted fucker I am,” he said rolling his eyes.

His hands departed from my face, and one was now pinching the bridge of his masculine nose in frustrated contemplation. I didn’t see the normal abundance of equanimity in his eyes now that normally dwelled there, and I was well aware that he was struggling for the words he sought. “I’m a head case, Liv. I find the love of my life, and talk to her like dog shit, because that’s obviously what a sensible man would do? God… What fuckin’ sense does that make?”

“Honest? It makes perfect sense, actually.” I comforted him, trying to distinguish the fires of aggravation, and self-loathing I could see kindling behind his eyes. “It’s the typical reaction of a man who’s never been in love before, and doesn’t have a damn clue how to handle all the things his feeling all of a sudden.”

“I know exactly how t’ handle it now though.” Colton said snatching me like a flimsy sack of potatoes into his grips, and reaching for a sly kiss.

When his arms outreached though, one of the tattoo additions I had been suspicious of when we bumped into each other at the Temple that fateful day, revealed itself like a shiny penny catching the beams of the sun.  Carefully placed on the tender, hairless skin of the underside of his bicep amongst his dedication to the Andy Warhol bridge, and a Latin phrase “Fortis Passioni deditus” translating to “strong willed”, was a small 21 needled in varsity print.

I immediately locked a grip around the evidence in question, raising it further into the light to investigate whether my eyes had been viciously deceiving me. He didn’t dispute, either from downright perplexity, or for the simple fact that he knew exactly what had won my attention and wanted me to snoop it out a little more closely.

Once I had wiped sternly over the numbers with a thumb, seeing they were indeed permanently etched onto his smooth skin, I looked intently upward to his waiting face. I wanted to smile in cheesy satisfaction, I wanted to cry in earnest adoration, and I wanted to claw the very ink out of his skin as backlash for his silly, erratic decision. But no, not really. The sensible, rational Liv rallied admirably to find a way to veto what he had done and hammer him with venomous disapproval. Thankfully, my fanatical love for the man eclipsed the once “safe” nature I carried, and all I wanted to do was fall at his feet.

“Took ya’ long enough, 2-1.” He smiled barely showing a top row of teeth.

“Wh..when?” I tripped over my tongue.

“Few months after the Mendez fight, I think. Was gonna put it on my chest, next to ma’s date of remission. But my guy down at the parlor said here looked better.” The man explained so coolly as if a shrine to my basketball number, and his pet name for me drawn onto his flesh was just something people did so commonly. Seriously, it sounded as if he was just reading off the lottery numbers in the Sunday paper.

“A few months? So, you did this after you dumped me? We weren’t even together and you got this tattoo?”

“Are you mad? Like…seriously upset with me, Liv? I mean, yeah, it was a little reckless, but that shoudn’t surprise you, baby,” he snickered. “But I knew I’d get you back, Livvy. Or I was gonna damn die tryin’. The way I saw it, it would either end up being something meaningful to our story that we could tell our babies in 10 years. Or, if I didn’t win you back, I’d have to look at it every fuckin’ day and think of the colossal mistake I made.”

10 years? Babies? DON’T FAINT. DO NOT.

“Lucky for you then, huh? Your plan played out for the better, I suppose.” I stretched on my small toes to pat my nose to his.

“So, you like it then?”

I didn’t bother to reward him with praise, instead just sucked a hearty kiss from the thin part in his opened mouth, humming sensually.

“Colton?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Take me to bed. Now.”

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfiction #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

[alitheamateur]

The Grind- Chapter 22

Warnings: NSFW. Explicit sexual content. Language.

The deep valleyed cut of his abs smashed to my own femininely toned core as he carried me around his waist in meaningful steps toward what I assumed was his bedroom. I loosened my boa constrictor like clasp around his torso, thinking for a moment I may have a heard him choke for a deep breath before we he kicked open the unlatched wooden door. Once we entered the light gray walls of his private room, he turned blindly and my protruding vertebras rolled on the unforgiving drywall beside his dresser. One palm petted my backside over the stretched latex of my black shorts, while its mate balanced him flat to the wall slightly above my head that was swirling erratically with the rhythm of his mouth.

“I have thought about this every damn day for the last year you wasn’t around, Liv. These legs squeezin’ the fuckin’ life outta me…” Colton looked at me with the same fiery fury he exhibited when entering the cage. 

My shirt discarded somewhere on his kitchen floor, and his now being pulled almost angrily over his head by me, allowed our sweating flesh to mingle into a sinful concoction.

“You sure, baby? I swear to God, I wouldn’t rush you into anything,” he politely contested.

“I’m sure, Colt. So, so sure.”

The three words were his vivid green light. I lightly closed my lids as my eyeballs rolled delightfully into the back of my head when I hit the feathery top of his assumingly expensive king size mattress. Strangely, he chose pulling my probably terribly smelling hair from the confines of an elastic hairband as the first item on his current to-do list. I shook like a wet, freshly bathed retriever, trying to beautify my hopeless locks, wanting to appear as sexy as possible for him in our first bedroom reunion. The last remnants of deodorant after our run, and the “vanilla” solid black bikini panties I wore, already miserably crashing that party, however.

Colton didn’t seem to be bothered one bit though, as his sucked raw, red teeth marks along my ribs, suddenly surprised at his meeting with my own tattoo from our break from each other.

A grazing, splendid finger traced the length of the black, sharpened pencil illustration down the side of my body starting due west of my breast. “It suits you,” he whispered through licked lips. “And you suit me.”

He hiked a hand up my southern cheeks, to duck into the waistband of my bottoms, and I slightly eased my weight from the bed to assist him in sliding them off from the back. My running shorts thrown to the side, left me now shivering in only thin underwear. Colton looped thru the leg holes, then looked to me, and tore the material in half right off my trembling body.

“Hope those didn’t cost ya’ too much, baby.”

A whiny moan of pleasure jumped from my chest when I felt strong, manly hands instantly probing the searing entrance between my thighs. Colton’s left hand massaged woefully slow on the space of my hip subtly, while the right painted careful strokes amid my aching lips.

His own hot breaths matched the temperature of my sex when he brought his nose level to it. “Can I kiss you, baby? Here?”

Unable to fathom any display of appropriate behavior at this point, I nearly yelled a scratchy growl of approval, and pulled him by the cold, damp strands of his hair to the midpoint of my gaping legs. The talented darts of his tongue, and teasing pecks of his lips two familiar feelings I never wanted to live without ever again.

“Colton, yes! Damn it..” I hissed through grinding teeth. He was like craving that could never become fulfilled.

“Open your eyes, Liv. I want you to look at me. Watch me make you come.”  He said through gritted teeth. His directions were stern, and darkly delicious in every way. Leaving me no other choice but to do exactly as commanded.

After what seemed like several unsteady, panting fits, Colton kept to his word, and rendered me with a paralyzing release, punctuated with his own smile of pride and perversion.

“That never gets old. I missed your taste, girl.”

“I need you, baby. Right this minute, please. I need to feel you.”

Did you just…beg? You begged like a detoxing fiend. Let’s try and hold on to a shred of dignity here, Liv.

My hands instantly pawed searchingly for the traps of stone that sat like mountains at the base of his neck as he predatorily crawled atop my still writhing body. They were my favorite place to hold onto as I rode him out like a hurricane wave. In an instant, graceful kisses fell down the crook of my neck, and around lobes of my ears, inhaling me, and I heard his precious admittance of love and longing spew like the Trevi fountain.

“I love you, Livvy baby. I don’t know how I ever let myself live without you. Fuck, I would die right here, and I promise I’d die with a smile.” He voiced hissed like the smooth smoke of a wildfire.

Boy, oh boy was he spreading it thick like smooth, buttery cement. I planted my hand over the sensitive skin where my awarded tattoo rest on his arm, savoring the fact that it, along with every other notion from Colton Ritter, meant that he was mine. The man was explicitly, unforgivingly, unashamedly mine. No matter what conniving demons dwelt within the darkest slums of his very being, he belonged to me, and nothing would change that. He wouldn’t allow it, and neither would I.

As we fused and curled into one thrashing mound of flesh and he pushed inside my walls, a tear rolled from the duct of my eye to soak into the comforter beneath my sticky hair. He filled me emotionally, mentally, and so pleasingly physically. His hands weaved deeply into my mane on both sides of my head, as he sank his lips into the fleshy globes on my chest. Feeling his perfect fingers all over my body like this felt like a cherished return. His body was built to destroy any enemies that may arise, and inflict painful chaos. Yet, here he was hovering over me so tenderly as if my body was fragile, fine china. Delicate touches and warm caressing hands molded against all my edges.

Colt bit over the throbbing pulse of my neck, and his paces increased with the cadency of my heart. He closed his eyes every so often, and I smiled at the way his long lashes shadowed onto his cheeks. White noise overtook the room as our words halted, and only breaths and thrusts made us look alive. I shuddered as he looked downward to inspect the way my slit looked hugging his length in entrance, and exit. The more he grunted, and murmured my name, the more I wanted to milk his own release from him, and if he kept grazing my deep walls in that same treasured spot, that’s exactly what would happen. His member felt like steel, sewed into plush velvet.

“Right there, Colton. I’m almost… mhmmm..”

“I love watching what my cock does to you, baby. You look so fuckin’ perfect when that face gets all blushed and soft after I make you come. Kiss me. ” He told me, but proceeded with the very action himself before giving me the chance.

That “blush” on my face is partially from the downright obscene things you so casually say to me, Colton. This Indiana girl needs a minute to process your boorish slang! But you love it, don’t even deny. You’re a scoundrel now, Elliott.

The chaste brush of a singular kiss ended almost as rapidly as its beginning before those predicable curses of orgasm screamed out of him. “Fuck… fuck! Livvy, your body is so… damn it. Every single… damn it. Fuck.”

Shouldn’t that be offensive? Liiiiiiike, I at least deserve a complete sentence of obscenities, Ritter.

I felt as if every particle of energy I had in me exited through the explosive orgasms he so kindly gifted me in our sexual homecoming. My spirit felt bright like the yellow of a daisy, or the perfect pink of a ripe watermelon. It was a revival of spirts that shocked my heart back to life.  

“Do you just challenge yourself to see how many expletives you can shout during sex?” I snickered, rubbing my hand over the tread marks of sweat rolling down his back over my claw marks.

“What can I say? My girl just brings out the best in me.”      

 I slept at his place that night, the open-house tour at my new apartment would have to wait. Almost smothered into the bear-hug embrace of his unbreakable muscles, I slept unmoved all night long. Aside from the drawn-out bathroom break around 3 a.m. that predictably led to him being woken by my blind stumbles in the dark, and needing another dose of his addiction between my legs. I didn’t startle from a deep sleep with hallucinations of his ghostly form sleeping next to me, or wake up and yearn for his warm body next to me under the sheets. I had both of those things. In fullness of reality, in the flesh. No more visions or dreams of fond memories, or nightmares of what could’ve been. We had found that road back to each other, and there were more memories to make.

I awoke, nude, alone in a tangled array of passion-soaked sheets, to the sound of a grinding blender, and an aroma perhaps to be eggs cooking. Checking the mirror briefly for matted, morning eye gunk, I adorned myself in a crumbled t-shirt I found in the arm chair beside his bed, then let my nose follow the scent of my probable waiting breakfast.

As I walked barefoot through the morning lit halls, a tingling yet, enflamed throb pulsed with my steps. It was the familiar ache of a night spent with Colton, and I smiled euphorically, welcoming the sensation.

“There she is! I was about to come wake your lazy ass up. You gotta eat so I can get you home and changed for work. Hope you don’t mind, I texted Ryan from your phone tellin’ him you’d be a little late to work this mornin’. I wanted you to sleep.” Colton turned away from the stovetop, serving up a healthy plate of scrambled egg whites, and two tomato slices.

He was covered only in thin shorts, and apparently a pair of tight-fitting briefs that peeked out around the waistband.  His eyes were a bit puffy, and still glazed from sleep, and again, freshly showered I concluded from the smell of his mountain musk soap. He smell was an unforgettable aroma of home. “Dig in, and I’ll put your protein shake in a cup for you to drink on the way.”

“Colton Ritter. Domesticated. I never thought I’d see the day. Should I buy us matching aprons?” I bit into a piece of the ripe tomato, catching an explosion of juice from running down my chin.

“Domesticated in the kitchen, maybe. The bedroom? Another story.  Isn’t that right you filthy, begging girl?” He sarcastic chided as he stood behind my chair, lifting my knotty hair into a fist, then kissing the back of my now exposed neck.

I recalled then the embarrassing amount of times that I’d whispered “please,” or “don’t stop,” the night before in our torrid exchanges.

“You created this monster, babe.” My head relaxed into his standing body behind me, and I winked up at him, menacingly.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

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[alitheamateur]

The Grind- Chapter 27

Warnings: Violence. Language.

I had put it for a week time of vacation from the office beginning three days from fight night. I wanted, more so needed, to spend hours upon hours at Temple Fitness racking up as much ring practice as possible, making time with my parents slim while they visited. I was barely maintaining weight, so lavish dinners were out of the question, and I had no intentions of slacking to attend a game, or other local sights with them, no matter how much I fought myself internally. However, with The Pilot being one less worry for a few days, I could work out early, notching several devoted hours under my belt, then cut out around late afternoon for some family time with Colt and my visiting parents.

Today, despite my steadfast arguments, they came in to observe how my routine played out with training. Tia was available for the day, so the crew and myself decided it’d be best apt for my now crucial preparations to let her play into the role of sparring partner. Stepping in with Colton was better suited for educational, phycological reasons seeing as he was the most seasoned member of my corner roster. But with Tia, a fellow female, things could get more physically involved, and squaring up with her would simulate more relative to the possibilities with my unfamiliar opponent.

“Well, were you surprised when you saw your parents? You had to suspect him doing all that.” Tia spoke while mirroring some of my stretches.

“I was absolutely clueless, T. I’m actually sorta glad they’re here, to be honest.”

“The fucker pestered me all week about ‘making sure I do this’ and ‘don’t forget to say that.’ He was wound tight, I know that.” she rolled her eyes with a puffing exhale.

I was warmed at the realization of how seemingly decent the usual ignitable pair had worked together to execute the planning without a hiccup. But, I strategically kept the sappy gushes inside my own private thoughts, knowing Tia would whine and baulk at the subject. Throughout training, Colton and she kept on their most polite behavior (well, ‘best behavior’ for those two thick-skulled, impetuous individuals, let’s say) and only nearly killed the other once. The tumultuous exchange was something vaguely involving the weight of gloves, and Colton wanting to trim the bout down to only 3 rounds. Cal snarled that the two of them should just have it out in the cage and settle things the only way they knew how, and end the ongoing ‘dick measuring contest’ as he put it, for everyone’s sanity.

“Well thanks, Tia. For helping him out and doing your part. I’m sure he’s grateful.” I assured her lightheartedly, turning back to face her as she followed me under the dipped open ring rope.

“He gave me 50 bucks, and he may’ve even said ‘thank you’ or somethin’. It’s whatever. I did it for you, LC. Not him. So, don’t start with those doe-y eyes.” She spat lightening defenses behind baring teeth.

Tia and I danced our usual relaxed waltz around each other when Willow gave the go-ahead, Colton standing arms crossed on the outside of the ropes, and my parents seated in cushioned stools from the therapists’ office. Riled grunts, and the forceful air whips of efforted swings fell upon listening ears as my partner tested me with slivered eyes. I kept my hands fastened meticulously near my nose to protect it from any unforeseen assaults and ducked quickly to try and take Tia’s legs. With my face now downward turned and arms opened to attack, my skull was only for a fleeting second left unprotected, leaving me to suffer the costs.

The bridge of my nose was met to Tia’s apparently very solid kneecap, and my teeth nearly gnashed my gummy-like tongue in half. A black explosion resembling an abstract firework filled my retinas, and suddenly I got the irresistible urge to nap. Unconsciousness threatened me, but by some luck I only teetered the line and never fully fell into its’ caress. Once the haze cleared and colors were recognizable again, a crimson flow dispersed like melted butter underneath my rested, near lifeless body.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, TIA?!! FUCK!! Have you lost your damn mind?!” Colton’s stinging shrieks echoed through the entire gym like a wild, murderous banshee.  

He verbally attacked Tia with persevering hysteria, spitting venomous strings of saliva into her detached, cold face. I couldn’t swear to it, but I was pretty certain those thumping veins on both sides of his neck were almost rupturing beneath his flesh. This was the wicked, sinful anguish that he always cautioned me was living inside him, and it had clawed it’s way to the light of day for the world to see.

“She’s gotta be more careful than that, Ritter. I was just trying to make her understand what could happen to her. She needs to understand that Katrina wants to hurt her, she’s gonna be out for blood. It was harsh, but I’m not sorry.” Tia shrugged haphazardly upon her explanation. Her words resonated just enough to piss me off to extreme measures, and make complete, and total sense.

I’m not even sure Colt comprehended her controversial explanation, nor the fact that she was even talking at all, as he hurled his weight in entirety to the ground beside me. He pulled off his t-shirt, doubling it as a rag to soak up some of the blood pool I was gurgling face down in. I sat up without assistance and felt undeniably woozy trying to hold up my head that now felt like the weight of a bowling ball. This instance was the closest I’d ever came to being knocked out, and I tried to process all the strange aftereffects while my fiercely concerned boyfriend gently moved my noggin around by the chin to observe the motion of my eyes.

“Livvy, baby? Hey, look at me, okay. Do you know where ya’ are? What’s my name, sweetheart?” He stroked repetitively on top of my head, clearing the hair from my eyes.

“I’m fine, Colt. Calm down, I don’t even think it’s broken,” I faked a smile hoping to lower the intensity of his brimming adrenaline.

Upon rising onto my own two very unsure feet, I fell dizzily into the wall of Colton’s warm-fleshed chest, and heard a gasping wince come from my perceiving left. Mom was standing at the foot of the ring, resting one hand there to balance her alarmed body, and the other squeezed over her mouth to try and kill the desire to sob. A collision with another player on the court, or the routine ‘floor burn’ to the knees had been common happenings throughout my childhood. But, seeing their flesh and blood, only child being unforgivingly rocked to the face by a bare, violent knee was a sight any parent would struggle with.

“Cal, grab the doc for me, will ya’?” Willow gestured a thumb to the direction of the Temples’ on-staff physician’s office down the hall. “Think we oughta go ahead and have her checked for concussion symptoms.”

“Ah, for fucks sake. Everybody needs to calm the hell down! She’s fine. Just give her a minute to get her bearings. You feel ok, Liv. Right?”

Was she trying to convince me, the other obviously concerned witnesses, or herself? My thoughts may have moved through my head at the speed of hot glue oozing stubbornly from the tip of a gun, but moving, nonetheless. I tried rationalizing with Tia’s abrupt, reckless attack, and the more I searched for some sense on the moment the angrier I grew. My match was one hand count of days away, and she thought reasonable to risk breaking my nose, or giving me an unnecessary concussion? It was irresponsible, thoughtless, and frankly downright asinine. Fury, combined with the pulsating echoes of pain from my throbbing nose, and the effort it took just to try and use simple brain power had me feeling like a smashed bug on the grill of a semi.

“Take me home, Colt. Please… I need a bath, and a bottle of anything to put me out for 36 hours.” I whined, erratically batting my eyelids trying to adjust to the seemingly now high voltage lighting of the room.

Any healing wounds I may have recognized up to this point between Colton and Tia was a very distant memory now. My fearless mate would shred anyone who he may have viewed as even a potential enemy, much less an individual he just witnessed almost knock me needlessly unconscious.

“We gotta have doc check ya’ out, Liv. He can probably get ‘chu somethin’ for the pain, too.” Colton answered softly, continuing his attempts to clean the crusting, web of blood all over my face and crane of my neck. “Then, I promise I’m gonna take you home and put you straight in the tub for a soak in some’a those fizzy things you always buyin’, ‘ight?”

The hurt of my swelling nose was too much of a distraction for me to completely bask in all the ways I knew my loyal man would be coddling me the upcoming days.

 Amidst the doctors’ perpetual astonishment, I passed his exam and questioning with flying colors, and he dismissed me that night with the green light to go about my evening as normal. Thankfully, despite my nose not being in fact broken, he instructed me to ice as much as I could physically stand and prescribed me a gentle painkiller for the soreness and headaches to come. Tia lingered idly in the training room until I packed up for the evening and let my panicked with concern mother hold my hand through the exit. I didn’t so much as bother her with a second look nor give her the satisfaction of a goodbye, still feeling grudgingly nauseous with her very inexistence.

The nose injury came with barely noticeable plum-shaded bruising in the corners of my eyes that covered easily with a thicker application of concealer. The swelling had ceased due to the repetitive regime of icing and anti-inflammatories, so I didn’t have to see the light of day looking like a complete ogre. Weigh-ins were the first excuse I had to force Colton to allow me out of the house after remaining under his watchful, loving eye, and the smothering care of my parents as well. I not dare complain or push aside their gracious concerns for me, so I politely smiled, thanked, and kissed the obvious appropriate party and focused on the fight.

The event of my weigh-in was no where closely related the ones I was used to writing about for work, and probably wouldn’t even be categorized as an event to begin with. There was no hype or advertising buzz floating around the streets for the fight between Kat and myself, so a big to-do with our weight checks seemed definitely unnecessary. Colton suggested a simple meeting at Temple Fitness with a well-respected referee from Pittsburgh, my team, and my opponents the Friday  evening before we were scheduled for a dance in the cage.

My parents arguably agreed to wait back at the house after I reasoned we’d only be gone for a couple hours, give or take. Mom insisted on concocting my favorite pot of always delicious jambalaya for a late dinner after my numbers had been approved for competition. My mouth seeped in anticipation with thoughts of the steaming pot as we made the turn into the gyms’ lot around 7:00 that evening.

“What the hell is she doin’ here, Liv. Did you tell ‘er to come?” Colton scowled and spat seeing Tia’s car parked near the street light in the parking lot. I felt his grip under my fingers stiffen at the mention of her name.

“She’s probably just here working out. Or, Willow mentioned it to her. Either way, just let it be, babe. Please? Let’s just do what we came here to do and get out calmly in one piece. Deal?”

His silence amongst bull like puffing from his nostrils alluded those weren’t exactly his intensions if Tia decided to make herself known tonight. A short-film of the two hotheads beating each other bloody looped in my mind.

“Ritter………” I pressured him sternly, demanding he agree to my terms.

“I hear you, baby. But, I’m tellin’ ya, if she starts that mouthy shit I ain’t promisin’ ya’ I can control myself.”

We parked, and I marched straight for the locker room for one last bathroom break before stepping up to the scales. I felt confident in the discipline I kept with my diet, and my dedicated hours on the weights, but now that the moment had arrived, self-doubt rolled in like a spring thunderstorm. I shed whatever bladder continents I had left, my windbreaker, and the capri sweats I was wearing before heading to join the waiting bodies.

The cranked temperature of the A/C caused me to shudder off a cold-chill as the spandex shorts and sports bra exposed me to the cool air. Amongst Willow, Colt, Cal and regretfully Tia were four unrecognizable faces. Everyone chatted informally, broken into a few swarming huddles except two. The two pouting bodies stood caddy-cornered from the other, wide-stances and hands crossed into their armpits. Tia and Colton were so much alike, and both too blindly obstinate to see it.

I went trembling with nerves to Colton’s side, as Willow quickly hastened to him as well.

“Bex wants us to take the first weigh if that’s alright with you guys?” She asked kindly and professionally. She had played a hugely important role in my fight-preparation, but upon his re-entering to the picture, let Colton somewhat run the show knowing I probably felt most comfortable in his molding hands.

“Up to you, Livvy baby. If you want her to step up first, just say the word and I’ll make it happen.” Colt turned to face me, warming my chilling arms with his enormous heater like hands.

“I mean, I guess it’s alright. I… I don’t mind.” I looked to smile crookedly at the murmuring bodies across the room.

Colton approached who I concluded to be the official he invited as the unbiased party in the matter and shook his hand kindly with a relaxed meeting. The two men nodded their heads with words I couldn’t make out and parted ways with Colton returning to my nervously tapping feet, and the ref stepping to Katrina and her coach.

“’Ight, it’s nothin’ to get all fuckin’ antsy about, baby girl. All you gonna do is step up on the scale, he’ll call out your official weight and we’re all done. Simple as that, okay? You were at 129 or so this mornin’, right? So nothin’ to worry that big ol’ head about.” He gestured with his hands, steadily explaining the cut-and-dry process to come.

My bare feet treaded lightly towards the smile of the friendly man planted next to the upright standing physicians scale. My shoulders tensed and appeared to coil higher into my stiff neck as every set of eyes in the room landed on me. Mimicking what I had seen Colton and many other competitors do, I pushed the airy content from my lungs, and stepped upon the scale one foot at a time. He tapped gently on the pointer, careful to ensure his reading would be accurate before announcing the crucial number.

“Looks like you’re set at 129.5, Miss Elliott. You guys wanna come take a look?” He offered a firsthand sight at the scale with me standing on it for Katrina, wanting no speculation of funny business on fight night. But, she passed the opportunity and instead began shedding any extra clothing weight she could.

“Way to go, LC. Even down at couple pounds since we started this shit. I see you, girl!” Tia was on my heels with empty praise, talking towards the back of my head since I refused to give her the satisfaction of acknowledgment.

Colton stood at attention holding open my jacket and sweats, as Willow gave my shoulders a quick squeeze of support.

“What’s on the post weigh-in menu, Liv. All fighters got that craving while they’re training. Whatcha’ gonna reward yourself with, babe?” She smiled proudly.

“Oh, it’s gonna be somethin’ fulla’ carbs knowing this girl, Willow,” Tia butt in. Willow only looked with a blank, awkward glance, still very much sensing the tension within the Ritter-Elliott-Larkin camp.

“Tia, just fuck off, ‘ight. Liv may be too nice to say it, but we both know I sure as hell ain’t. She don’t wanna talk to ya’, and frankly, I don’t know why the fuck you’re even here.” Colton held off best he could, bless his heart. But her forced comments into our conversation only amped him further to unleash on her.

Tia’s smile turned to a sneer in an unapproving reaction to her once again mortal enemy’s comment, and eyeballed me searching for some sort of back-up, or teammate in the matter. Normally, I’d be the ‘Switzerland’ regarding matters of the heart between she and Colton. But, the desire to defend her right now just simply wasn’t present.

“Willow mentioned it to me. And if Liv doesn’t want me here, I think she’s grown and perfectly capable of telling me that herself. Asshole.”

“I don’t want you here.”

My quick snap admittance looked to hit her like a sack of bricks. The flesh tone of her face heated like the igniting of fiery embers and her nails seemed to pierce the inside of her palms between clenched, wrathful fists.

“I don’t want you here, and I think it’s best of you just stay out of my corner Saturday night, too. Willow and Colt can handle it just fine.”

Truly, I wasn’t as fitful with her as I let on, but for my mental sanity on fight night, I figured it best to just squander any possible altercations between she and Colton now. The two of them intently bickering outside the cage would only distract me, and I’d end up with double the damage that Tia caused. This time, Colton was genuinely lacking fault, so it indeed wouldn’t be fair to shove him from ringside.

“You don’t fuckin’ mean that, LC. This whole thing was my idea to begin with.” she protested with gritty objection.

“Hey Colt, you and your girl wanna come check the scale before she steps down?” The ref interjected.

“Yeah, that’s be great. C’mon, babe.”

I slid into my shoes, and disregarded Tia wholly.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

#Tom Hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind