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debbiechanclub · 4 years ago

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Best Two Out of Three, Part 17

SURPRISE! So I didn’t think this was gonna be done until sometime next week, but @what-does-mine-say sent me a whole bunch and then I became a woman possessed.

Just FYI, the setting for this jumps back and forth between Philly and Virginia, and I sincerely hope it’s not too hard to follow.

Oh, also... there’s a little bit of smut in this. Enjoy.

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 17/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x Cash Wheeler and Adam Page x OFC

Warnings: Language; angst; explicit sexual descriptions.

Word count: 7.4k

Catch up on previous parts here.

Alex stepped off the elevator, her vision blurry with tears. She took a left, realized it was the wrong way, and turned around, trudging down the hall. Their room was a little more than halfway down. Her arm felt weak as she raised her hand to knock.

It was only a few seconds before the door opened. Chuck’s face instantly creased with worry when he saw her. “Alex? Why are you crying?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he pulled her into the room. He led her over to one of the beds. She sank down onto the mattress and folded into him, her shoulders shaking.

Chuck didn’t ask any more questions. He just hugged her and let her quietly cry, soaking his t-shirt with tears. The adjoining door to Trent and James’s room was open, and they both came in—first curious, and then just as concerned and confused as Chuck.

“Can—can I stay here tonight?” Alex eventually choked.

“Of course,” Chuck returned. He pulled back so he could look at her. “What happened? Did he hurt you? Because I swear to God—”

She shook her head. “Cash and K-Kenny got in ano-other fight.”

“What?” Trent moved across the room and sat down on her other side. “When? Just now?”

She nodded.

“Why?” Chuck asked.

A second wave of guilt and sadness overtook her, and Chuck pulled her back into him. She clutched his shirt and said, “Because I kissed Kenny.”

None of them said a word. Chuck squeezed her tighter. Alex could only imagine what they thought of her. Cheater. She wished she could curl up into a ball and disappear.

“Did you tell Cash?” Chuck asked.

She nodded into his chest. “Of course. I had to. And he—he ran to Kenny’s room and pu-punched him as soon as he o-opened the door. The B-Bucks had to come pull him off of him.” She let out a pained sob. “I’m a fu-fucking cheater.”

“No,” Chuck firmly returned. “You made a mistake and you copped to it.” He pulled back again and looked her in the eye. “You hear me?”

Alex’s face screwed up. She couldn’t even nod that time. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such good friends.

Trent put a comforting hand on her back. “Did Cash say anything to you?”

She sat up and wiped her cheeks with her t-shirt. “He gave me an ultimatum. And then he told me to—to sleep somewhere else tonight.” Her lip quivered. “All my sh-shit is still back there. I just grabbed my phone and came straight here.”

Trent shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get it for you.”

“I’ll go get it in full gimmick,” James added. “I don’t care.”

When she heard that, a fresh surge of sobs rose up Alex’s chest and she started crying all over again. “I don’t de-deserve friends like you…”

“What?” Chuck pulled her back into him before she’d even finished her statement. “Shut the fuck up. Yes you do. And you know what? You’re coming to Philly.”

“What?” she asked.

“You heard me. You’re coming to Philly, and we’re all gonna get drunk and stupid like the good ol’ days. I have a bottle of The Rock’s tequila with your name on it.”

Alex didn’t say anything for a few seconds. And then she asked, “And Sour Patch Kids?”

“I’ll buy out the fucking factory,” Trent said.

“Shit; Sour Patch Kids-infused tequila,” James suggested.

Chuck grimaced. “Vodka.”

James pointed a finger at him. “Yes.”

Alex fought back another surge of emotion. “You guys would do that?”

“Duh,” Chuck returned. “We love you, Alex. And we miss you, too. It’s been way too long since you’ve gotten into shenanigans with us.”

That gave Alex pause. It had been a while since she’d hung out with them, she realized. She’d been so wrapped up in her own chaos-filled bubble that’d she’d forgotten what it was like to just have fun. She thought back to that night when they’d had the get-together in their hotel room, when she’d made Chuck and James compete in those ridiculous challenges for her accompaniment to the ring. Just over two months had passed since that night, but it felt like a lifetime ago. That version of herself felt like a lifetime ago. She missed that version of herself. She needed to get back to that version of herself.

She sat up and mustered a smile. “I would like that. I miss you guys, too.”

Chuck squeezed her shoulder. “Go get cleaned up and take a minute. I’ll find something stupid for us to watch.”

Alex nodded. She stood and moved into the bathroom, shutting the door with a gentle click behind her, and walked over to the sink to turn on the faucet. She actively avoided looking at herself in the mirror as she washed her face. She didn’t want to see what she looked like right now. She knew how she felt, and that was bad enough.

She reached for a fresh towel from under the sink, and her phone pinged from where she’d set it screen-down on the vanity. Somehow, she knew it was Kenny before she flipped the phone over and saw the message.

Where are you? Are you alright?

Alex stared at the text, emotion stinging her nose again. Somehow, she was both angry and touched that he’d asked. And either way, she couldn’t leave it unanswered.

I’m in Chuck’s room, she typed. Cash kicked me out. She hit “send,” set the phone back down, and waited. Kenny’s response was both quick and unsurprising.

What? Come stay with me.

Even though she’d expected the offer, it still made her stomach flip. She chewed her lip as she typed back. I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Again, his response was near-instant. Why? Cash made his bed. He doesn’t deserve you.

Alex bit down on her jaw. No, she’d made her bed. But before she could say as much, another text came through.

I’m worried about you, baby. I want to hold you.

She let out a breath and leaned back against the vanity. Why did he keep calling her that? He knew she wasn’t his baby. He knew it tugged at her heart. Her fingers flew over the digital keys of her keyboard, gently clicking through the silence of the bathroom. It’s not a good idea, Kenny, she returned. And then, after a second’s hesitation, she added, Are you alright?

He took a little longer to respond that time. Yeah. Just a busted lip. Same thing I gave him last week.

Alex frowned down at the screen. Part of her wanted nothing more than to go to Kenny. Cash had ambushed him; she could only imagine how he felt right now. But she couldn’t go to him. Not without choosing him.

I had to tell him, she sent back. She waited, staring at the screen until his response popped up.

I know. I’m glad you did. I can’t hide the way I feel about you, Alex. Not anymore.

She let out another sigh. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say to that. But then he started typing again.

If you change your mind, you know where I am.

She bit her lip again. I know, she sent back.

She backed out of their conversation and looked at the rest of her messages. Her text chain with Cash was third from the top, after Kenny and Adam. She stared at it, debating whether or not to at least tell him where she was. If anything, she just wanted him to know she wasn’t with Kenny. But then she thought: if Cash assumed she’d gone running straight back to Kenny, then he didn’t know her at all.

So she didn’t text him. Instead, she switched her phone to silent and stepped out of the bathroom to rejoin her best friends, trying to ignore just how badly she was hurting.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Adam and Callie packed up to leave earlier than they usually did. They were both feeling out of sorts and just wanted to get back home—especially Adam. He’d replayed last night’s match in his head over and over again, wondering if he’d made a mistake leaving with Cash and Dax; if their team would have won if he’d just stayed; if Kenny, Matt, and Nick resented him for it. He hadn’t spoken to any of them since leaving the arena; he had no idea if they still expected him to join them for breakfast like usual. He pulled out his phone as he and Callie stepped off the elevator into the hotel lobby, intending to send a text in the group chat letting them know that they were leaving—but it turned out he wouldn’t need to send it. Kenny, Matt, and Nick were checking out, as well.

“Hey,” he nodded at them as they stood huddled in a circle just to the left of the reception desk. They stopped talking as soon as they saw him. It gave the distinct impression that they’d been talking about him. But he swallowed the suspicion down as best he could. “You guys heading out early, too?”

Nick nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready to get back home,” he commented. “I think we all are.”

“Tell me about it,” Adam breathed—but then Callie let out a gasp.

“What happened, Kenny?”

Adam’s brow furrowed in confusion. But then he looked at his tag team partner and his eyes widened. The left side of Kenny’s bottom lip was bruised and scabbed, like he’d been punched in the mouth. Adam’s stomach dropped. He had a horrible feeling he knew exactly what had happened.

Kenny shrugged. “Oh, you know. Someone’s jealous boyfriend ambushed me in my hotel room last night, no big deal.”

“What?” Callie and Adam simultaneously gaped. “Cash ambushed you?” Callie added.

He gave her a sarcastic look. “No, Callie, Kip Sabian did.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Why?” Adam asked. “What happened?”

A corner of Kenny’s mouth quirked up. “Alex told him that we kissed. He didn’t like it.”

“What?” They both repeated. Adam looked to Matt and Nick, expecting some sort of reaction; but their faces remained stoic. They’d obviously already been downloaded on everything that had happened. Adam was the only odd man out. Again. “You mean you and Alex recently kissed?” he asked.

Kenny nodded, all too casual. “Yeah. Last week. And yesterday.”

Adam gaped back at him, his eyes wide and stunned. He was halfway unwilling to believe him. But before he could grill Kenny about it, Alex appeared in the lobby. She was flanked by Chuck, Trent, and James. Cash was nowhere in sight.

“Speak of the devil,” Matt muttered. Kenny shot him a glare.

Alex caught sight of them. She stuttered, her sneakers squeaking against the lobby floor and her eyes wide with surprise. And then she started walking faster toward the exit.

Adam hurried after her. “Alex, wait!”

“She doesn’t want to talk, Page,” Chuck said as they all went out the automatic doors. Adam’s brow lowered.

“Why don’t you let her speak for herself?”

“I don’t want to talk,” Alex confirmed with a look over her shoulder. It made Adam stop for a second. But then he kept walking after her.

“Are you alright? I just found out what happened last night.”

“No, I’m not,” she answered, not breaking stride.

“Where’s Cash?”

“I don’t know.” She stopped then, turned around to face him. “He gave me an ultimatum last night and kicked me out, so we’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”

Adam frowned down at her. He didn’t need to ask her what the ultimatum had been; he could fill in the blanks well enough on his own. At this point, all he wanted was to reassure her as best he could. “I’m sure he—”

But she didn’t want to hear it. “Save it,” she breathed. “I just want to go home.”

She looked up at him with glassy eyes. There were dark circles underneath them like she hadn’t slept all night. Her voice was weary. He recognized the distraught on her face all too well. It broke his heart.

“I’ll talk to you later, alright?” she said. And with a final sad look she turned and started off again, Chuck leading her to the car.

* * * * * * * * * *

Friday evening, music streamed through the speakers in Chuck’s apartment in Philadelphia. Alex had made the near six-hour trip from Roanoke earlier that day, and she felt like Chuck, Trent, and James had been falling over themselves to make sure she was happy ever since she’d arrived. Chuck had ordered in cheesesteaks for dinner from her favorite local spot. Trent had bought her not one, but two two-pound bags of Sour Patch Kids. And James was watching her drink like a hawk, waiting to fill it back up as soon as she was done. It was kind of unnerving, especially since he was wearing his sunglasses and she couldn’t see his eyes.

Not that she needed another drink at the moment. She and Chuck were playing beer pong against Trent and James—and they were getting their asses kicked.

Alex closed one eye and poked her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, aiming for a cup in the center of the triangle on the other end of the table. She shot; and it bounced off the rim.

“Come on,” Chuck breathed. “You’re the only one of us who went to college, you should be good at this!”

“You’ve only made one!” Alex returned with a motion to James and Trent’s nearly intact triangle of cups. “That’s just one more than none!”

While they were arguing, Trent took the opportunity to sink his ping pong ball into their last remaining cup.

“GREG!” Chuck shouted.

He smirked. “Drink up, buttercup.”

“No!” Alex proclaimed. “We get to shoot until we miss.”

“Why bother?” James remarked.

“Oh, you’re dead.” Chuck said. He picked up a ping pong ball and tossed it. It landed in the cup on the right bottom corner of the triangle. He threw his arms into the air. “YES! DRINK, YOU LITTLE BITCH!”

James just smirked and took a sip of his alcohol.

Trent rubbed his hands together. “Alright, Alex. It’s all on you.”

Alex got in her shooting stance. She wasn’t sure if closing one eye was helping or hurting at this point; she’d already had a few and was starting to feel it. She aimed and fired. It started to go in a cup in the middle—but Trent used his finger to flick it back out.

Alex’s eyes widened as she let out a gasp. “Oh, you’re never gonna get to see my tits now.”

Chuck choked on his drink. Trent’s eyebrows arched. “Were you gonna show them to me?!”

She gave a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t know, maybe. I know you’re jealous that Chuck and James got to see them when they walked in on me that one time.”

“He totally is,” James said.

Trent sucked his teeth. “Man…”

Alex just smirked and took a sip of her drink.

“And on that note,” Chuck said. “It’s time for shots.” He walked over to the kitchen and pulled out four shot glasses. “What flavor does everyone want?”

That was another thing Chuck had done: he actually had made the Sour Patch Kids-infused Vodka. And from what Alex understood, it had been a pain in the ass.

“Blue raspberry,” James answered.

“I’ll try cherry,” Trent said.

Chuck filled one shot glass with blue-colored vodka and another with red-colored vodka. “Alex?” he asked. But she wasn’t paying attention.

“Where’s my phone?” she asked. She looked around the room. She thought she’d left it on the arm of the couch, but it wasn’t there. She patted her pockets, making sure she hadn’t picked it up and forgotten like a dunce; but they were empty. She started to search the cushions of the couch—but Trent walked over to her.

“Your phone? Yeah, I hid it.”

She whirled around to look at him. “What?”

He smirked. “You shouldn’t have left it just sitting out in the open when you went to the bathroom.”

“Trent,” she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Give me my phone.”

He shook his head. “No.”

She put her hands on her hips. “I’ll show them to you.”

His eyes flicked down to her chest. He seemed to consider it; but then he looked back up. “No.”

“Trent…” she whined.

“Alex…” he mimicked.

She pouted. “Why’d you hide it?”

“Because.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “One, it’ll keep you from spending all night glued to your phone waiting for whoever to text. And two, it’ll keep you from drunk texting whoever, which I’m guessing you’re about one and a half drinks away from wanting to do.”

Alex fidgeted under his gaze. He wasn’t wrong. She’d been incessantly checking her phone ever since she’d arrived, each time hoping to see a text from Cash—and each time being disappointed. They hadn’t talked since that night at the hotel, and each hour that went by without hearing from him seemed longer than the last. She knew he was hurt; she didn’t blame him for not wanting to talk to her. But she just wanted to know if he was even thinking about her. And each time she looked at her phone and didn’t see his name, it was like another papercut on her heart.

“He’s right,” Chuck said. “Forget about your phone, and anything else going on outside this apartment, just for tonight. Alright?”

He offered her a shot glass full of bright green vodka. Lime. She thought back to two nights ago, remembered how she’d missed the person she was two months ago. Tonight was a chance to be that person again, even if just for a night.

She took the shot glass from Chuck’s hand. “Cheers,” she said, and she kicked it back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ever since their fight the week before, Callie had wanted to do something special for Adam. She wanted to show him how much she loved him, how much she appreciated him, to prove to him that he would never have any doubt that she’d always be there for him. But now that it was time to enact her plan, she couldn’t have been more nervous.

“I don’t know; I’m starting to chicken out,” Callie frowned at Britt over FaceTime. She’d tried to get in touch with Alex first, but her messages had gone completely unread. So, in desperate need of some encouragement from a friend, she’d turned to Britt instead. “What if he doesn’t like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” Britt shot. “You looked hot in that picture you sent me. I’d do you”

“What?” Adam Cole called from somewhere off-screen.

Britt rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it!” She looked back at Callie. “I hope that stuff wasn’t expensive because Hangman’s gonna destroy it.”

Callie smoothed her hand over the silky black robe that covered the lacy red lingerie set she’d bought. She wanted to believe Britt, but what she didn’t know was that Adam hadn’t touched her in weeks. And if he didn’t respond to this… Callie honestly didn’t know what she would do.

Britt must have seen her anxiety written all over her face, because she said, “Just take a deep breath. You’re going out of your comfort zone, but he’ll appreciate it. Trust me.”

Callie’s brow furrowed. But she nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna go hunt him down before I completely lose my nerve. Wish me luck!”

“You don’t need it. Go get him!” Britt waved as she ended the call. Callie set down her phone on the bathroom vanity and checked her reflection in the mirror, making sure her blonde waves were perfectly placed. She grabbed the glass of wine she’d poured herself earlier, took a deep, calming breath, and slipped out the bedroom toward the backyard.

* * * * * * * * * *

Adam sat in front of the fire in the backyard, a whiskey glass in one hand and his phone in the other. He wanted to talk to Alex, but she wasn’t answering his texts. So, he texted Cash instead.

Hey man, how are you? Just wanted to check in.

He took a sip of his drink and set his phone on the cushion next to him, gazing into the flames in front of him. Admittedly, he wasn’t just “checking in.” He’d gotten Cash’s side of the story after he’d tried to talk to Alex at the hotel yesterday morning, and he wanted to know if his thoughts had changed at all over the last twenty-four-plus hours. In other words, he wanted to fix it. He wasn’t sure why Alex had kissed Kenny, but he was sure it had been a mistake—he’d seen the guilt and hurt in her eyes as she’d left yesterday. And if he could mend things between her and Cash, maybe it would make up for everything else.

His phone chirped and he picked it up. Cash’s response was surprisingly vulnerable. Hey, man. Honestly, not great. I haven’t heard from Alex and it’s driving me insane.

Adam’s brow furrowed as he typed back. Not since the night at the hotel?

Cash’s reply was quick. No. Not once.

Adam frowned. Honestly, it surprised him that Alex hadn’t reached out to Cash yet. But if Cash cared about her so much, then he should just swallow his pride and text her. And he told him exactly that. Just text her, man. She’s so broken up about this.

He took another sip of whiskey as he went back to his texts with Alex. The messages he’d sent were still unread. It was starting to worry him. But then Cash responded.

Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But SHE kissed Kenny. I can’t get that out of my head. And as much as I want to talk to her, she needs to figure out what she wants on her own.

Adam sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He saw Cash’s point. But he also couldn’t help but think that, if it were him, he’d be doing whatever he could to get Alex back.

The sliding glass door to the backyard suddenly opened. Adam set his phone aside and kicked back the rest of his liquor as Callie walked outside. He expected her to come sit next to him, but instead she walked around behind him. She ran her hand down his chest as she leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek.

“Hey,” she purred.

“Hey,” he returned.

She hugged him, leaning her head against his. “What’re you doing out here all by yourself?”

Adam tensed. He knew she wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He could hear the need in her voice, feel it in her touch. But he wasn’t in the mood. “Nothing. Just talking to Cash,” he answered.

She pressed another kiss to his cheek. “About Alex?”

He nodded, slowly. “Yeah. Have you heard from her?”

Callie pulled back from him and stood back up. “No.”

A frown pulled at the corners of his lips, his worry increasing. But before he could dwell on it, Callie walked around in front of him. His brow furrowed. She’d done her hair, and she was wearing a short, slinky black robe he’d never seen before.

He watched as she set the wine glass in her hand on the table. “She probably just needs some time to herself,” she said. “I think we could use some time to ourselves too.”

She tugged at the sash on the robe, undoing the tie, and the fabric slipped from her body to the ground, revealing a lacy red bra and panties that he’d definitely never seen before. She looked amazing. But he didn’t feel aroused. He just felt… confused.

She moved to perch herself next to him on the couch. She ran one hand up his shoulder and the other over his thigh. “We haven’t been close in a while, so I wanted to surprise you.” She leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I thought maybe you could take out some of your frustrations on me.”

He whipped his head around to look at her, taken aback by the suggestion. “What?”

Callie blinked. That obviously hadn’t been the reaction she’d expected. “I just thought it would be nice to try something new.”

Adam was at a loss of what to say. He didn’t know how he felt about what it sounded like she had in mind. And, right now, he didn’t want to think about it. “I need another drink,” he said, and he stood and grabbed his whiskey glass and went back into the house.

He walked over to the bar in the den and poured himself another glass. He took a sip just as Callie appeared. The robe was secured tightly around her body again.

“I’m trying here, Adam,” she shot. “It’d be nice if you tried, too.”

He let out a sigh. “Cal, I’m just not up to it, alright?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Trust me, I’ve noticed. You haven’t been up to it in weeks.”

Adam set his glass down on the bar. That was a low blow, but she wasn’t wrong. It had been a while since they’d been intimate. But, admittedly, he hadn’t really thought about it. He’d been too stressed to think about it. He still was.

Callie scoffed and shook her head. “No answer for that one, huh? You know, it’s really starting to seem like you’re more interested in fixing Alex’s relationships than you are in fixing ours.”

A sadness crept up Adam’s chest when she said that. Guilt twisted his stomach. It was a heavier sadness and a sharper guilt than he’d felt this whole time, and he needed to say something. “I just don’t want you to see me like this.”

Callie’s brow creased with confusion and hurt. “What?”

He sighed. “Don’t make me explain myself.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “You don’t need to explain yourself. But you need to let me in, Adam. Don’t you understand that? Shutting yourself down and pushing me away isn’t how a relationship is supposed to work.”

She was getting upset—physically upset. He could see it on her face and hear it in her voice. But before he could even think of anything else to say in return, she added, “I know opening up is difficult for you. But we’ve been together long enough that you should be able to open up to me. And right now, it feels like you don’t even care to try.”

She turned and walked away, disappearing back through the house. And Adam stood there alone, left with his whiskey and sadness and guilt.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex woke up with Trent’s arm draped over her waist atop the blanket they shared. He must have rolled over in his sleep and flung it across her. She gently grabbed his wrist and picked it up, trying to place his arm down on the air mattress in between them; but he pulled it back and snuggled with his pillow, dead asleep. She smirked to herself. She’d always been jealous of how he could sleep like a fucking rock.

She twisted on her back and strained to see the time on the cable box. It was after 2 a.m. What time had they gone to bed? She wasn’t sure. She’d been drunk and half asleep as Chuck had inflated the air mattress for her and Trent; James had already claimed the couch. She couldn’t have been out long; she still felt woozy from all the alcohol she’d consumed. Her mouth was dry. She needed water.

She pushed herself up from as gently as she could, trying not to disturb Trent as she stood from the air mattress and padded over to the kitchen. She opened a cupboard and pulled out a cup—and, lo and behold, revealed her phone.

She snatched her hand out to grab it but bumped her funny bone in the process and let out a silent yelp. She nursed her elbow, looking over to the living room to make sure James or Trent hadn’t moved. With the coast clear, she reached for the phone again more carefully, pulled it out and unlocked it. She had several texts from both Adam and Callie, as well as one from Trent that said, If you’re reading this give me your phone. But none from the one person she’d hoped would text.

There was, however, a text from Kenny.

I’ve been thinking about you, baby. How are you?

Alex couldn’t help but laugh to herself. His choice of words couldn’t have been more ironic. All she’d wanted to know all night was if Cash was thinking of her—and here was Kenny, telling her that he was. She looked at the time stamp. He’d sent it a couple of hours ago, but she was willing to bet he was still up.

She moved across the apartment to the balcony. She kept her eyes trained on James, fast asleep the couch, and pulled open the sliding glass door as quietly as she could. And then she slipped out into the dark, closing the door behind her.

Chuck didn’t have any patio furniture, so she sat down on the concrete with her back against the brick wall. She typed back to Kenny. Are you still up?

She sat staring at the screen. Half a minute passed; and then those three dots popped up.

Yeah. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard. Wanna talk?

She wasn’t sure what she wanted to talk about. She just knew that she wanted to. A few minutes passed, and she started to get anxious. But then her phone rang. He was calling her through FaceTime.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She scooted closer to the railing, trying to find some light, and she took her hair down out of its messy bun, combing it out with her fingers, hoping it looked halfway decent. And then he answered. Kenny popped up on the screen. He was sitting in his gaming chair. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. He grinned.

“Hey, baby.”

She let out a little sigh, not intending to. “Hey.”

His brows knit together. “Where are you?”

“Chuck’s,” she answered. “The boys wanted to take my mind off things, so they threw me a little party. Trent hid my phone so I wouldn’t drunk text anyone. I only just found it.”

Kenny smirked. “I thought you looked a little buzzed.”

She gave him a surprised look. “What?”

His grin widened. “Whenever you drink you get this sort of lazy look of contentment on your face, like everything in the world is perfect. It’s cute.”

Alex’s stomach fluttered. She wondered if Cash had noticed that about her. “Well, what are you doing up so late?” she asked, trying to change her train of thought.

“Playing video games,” he sighed. “Thinking about you. Wishing you were here.”

Alex chewed the inside of her lip as she studied his image. His curls were unkempt and loose, like he’d been raking his hands through them in frustration, and his beard was scruffier than usual. Maybe it was the alcohol still running through her veins, maybe it was the moonlight in the humid late summer air, maybe it was some combination of both, but she wanted to run her fingers through his hair, over his broad shoulders and down his bare chest, lower. And before she knew it, she curiously asked, “What would you do if I was there?”

He gave her that crooked grin of his. “Oh, so this one of those calls?”

Alex’s cheeks burned at the husk in his voice, and she was suddenly grateful for how dark it was on the balcony. She hadn’t intended for this to be one of those calls. She’d never even had one of those calls before. But, suddenly, she wanted it to be one of those calls.

“What would you want me to do?” Kenny asked.

“Everything,” Alex said. The immediacy of her answer took her by surprise and there was a sudden surge between her thighs. She rubbed them together, squirming against the brick wall. Her eyes darted toward the door, praying Trent and James were still asleep.

“Be specific, baby,” he gently urged.

She let out a sigh as her eyes fell closed, tilting her head back. Her mind was dirtier than her mouth, and she was too shy to say what she wanted. But it wasn’t anything Kenny wasn’t used to. He knew how to coax her out of her shell. He was good at it.

“Would you want me to go down on you?” he asked.

She let out a little whine and nodded, imagining it. His tongue was magic. “I’d sit on your face so you could eat me out until I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Mm,” Kenny groaned. “What else?”

She pulled up her knees and arched her back, looking for some sort of friction. “I’d want you to fuck me.”

“How?”

“Hard,” she breathed. “I’d want you to pin my hands over my head while you made me scream. Give me bruises.”

“Fuck.”

She opened her eyes and looked back at the screen. He’d moved to somewhere else in his house. His eyes were clouded with desire. The muscles in his arm not holding the phone flexed, slowly pumping. She couldn’t see it, but it was obvious what he was doing.

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” he ordered.

Alex hesitated again, suddenly all too aware that she was having phone sex in the middle of the night on her best friend’s balcony. But then Kenny let out a sharp breath and there was no possible way she could ignore the flood between her legs. She slid her hand inside the waistband of her pajama shorts, underneath her cotton underwear, and slipped two fingers inside her wet flesh. Her head fell back, eyes closing again. She bit back a moan as she stroked in and out. It felt so good already.

“Are you wet for me?” Kenny asked.

She just nodded, her lips parted in pleasure.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Your dick,” she breathed. She slid her fingers up and pressed her clit, gently messaging the bundle of nerves. A cry escaped her throat. “Fuck. I want it so bad right now, Kenny.”

He growled. “Have you missed my dick, baby?”

“Yes.” She sunk her fingers back inside and stroked faster. She couldn’t stop herself from saying what she said next. “You’re bigger than him.”

She opened her eyes to see his reaction. He flashed a cocky smirk. “I know.”

She let out a moan, louder than intended. Something about him knowing just how fucking big he was damn near finished her. She curled and uncurled her fingers inside herself, rubbing her knees together, writhing against the wall. Her breathing grew shallow.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” Kenny breathed. She could tell by the neediness his voice that he was getting close.

“Yes,” she moaned again. She spread her feet wider, gently rocking her hips as she pumped her fingers in and out. She circled her clit again and bit back a cry; if she wasn’t careful, she might alert all of Philadelphia to exactly what she was doing. And that only made it more arousing.

She plunged her fingers back in as deep as they could go—right as Kenny let out a groan and breathed, “I love you so much, Alex.”

That pushed her over the edge. “Oh, fuck, Kenny.” She arched her back and curled her fingers as every muscle in her body contracted, an electric shock of pleasure shooting through her—and then sweet release. She cried as she spilled out into her underwear, whimpered as she came down from the high. She heard Kenny let out a curse and a moan, and Alex shuddered as the sound of him finishing sent an aftershock of pleasure through her core; and then she collapsed against the wall, spent.

Kenny could barely speak. “Fuck, baby,” he breathed. “That was… fuck.”

She breathed out a laugh as she pulled her hand from her shorts, still trying to collect herself. “I’ve never done that before.”

“Yeah?” he grinned. “I’m glad you wanted to.”

She bit her lip. She had wanted to. And the way she’d felt when he’d told her he loved her, the way her body had reacted… it had to mean something. But she couldn’t think about that now. Her brain was far too fogged with sex and alcohol. “I should probably go to sleep,” she said. “The last thing I need is for any of them to find me out here and ask what I’m doing.”

Kenny smirked. “Fair enough. I can’t wait to see you again. The next few days are gonna be torture.”

She bit back a smile, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, baby,” he returned.

They ended the call, and Alex sat on the balcony for a few minutes longer, still flush with what they’d just done. And as she came down and sobered up, she felt more confused than she ever had before.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie didn’t want to get out of bed the next morning. She just wanted to sleep and stay unconscious for as long as she could. That way, she wouldn’t have to think about how her relationship with Adam was falling apart at the seams. But by the third or fourth time she woke up to see light streaming through the window, she rolled over and grabbed her phone. It was after 9 a.m., and she had a text from Britt.

How’d it go? I’ve been dying to ask all morning but wanted to let you sleep because I’m sure you’re exhausted.

Callie pursed her lips at the winky face emoji Britt had added to the end of the text. It seemed to mock her as she typed back. It didn’t go as expected. I’ll just put it that way.

She rolled over onto her back and looked at Adam’s side of the bed. It was empty. She wasn’t sure when he’d gotten up; but before her thoughts could get away from her, Britt texted back.

What happened?

Callie let out a sigh. As much as she appreciated Britt’s concern, she wasn’t up to talking about what had happened just yet. She needed to wake up first, collect her thoughts. Figure out what she was even thinking at all. So she texted back: Can I call you later? I just woke up and need coffee.

The dots indicating that Britt was typing back appeared instantly. Yeah, of course.

She didn’t bother with a response. She climbed out of bed and moved toward the door when she got another text. She assumed it was Britt again; but when she looked at the screen it was Alex.

I’m SO sorry! I’m with the boys in Philly and Trent hid my phone last night. Is everything okay? Did you surprise Adam like you wanted?

Callie stared at the message. And, slowly but surely, a familiar feeling took root in her gut. Jealousy. Adam’s words from the night before replayed in her head. I just don’t want you to see me like this. But she was sure he would have opened up to Alex. He’d proven he would. She opened the message but didn’t respond, purposefully leaving it on read.

She padded down to the kitchen, hoping she’d find Adam there, sitting with a cup of coffee and a warm smile when he saw her—but he wasn’t. She checked the living room, the den, the backyard. He was nowhere to be found. Worry gripped her as she moved back to the front of the house and looked out the window into the driveway. His truck was gone. A weight dropped into her stomach as she texted him.

Where are you? I woke up and you were gone.

She set her phone on the kitchen island and busied herself with brewing a cup of coffee. Sooner than later, her phone chirped. She nearly jumped to pick it up and read the text.

I went for a drive.

That was it. No apology for leaving, no explanation, no “don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.” He’d just gone. Callie let her phone drop to the island with a hard thud. She felt abandoned. And, for the first time, she understood why Adam drank.

* * * * * * * * * *

Adam had just wanted to clear his head. Driving had always been good for that, going down the back country roads with the windows down and the music turned up. He hadn’t had a destination in mind. But he’d been driving for almost thirty minutes when he realized he was on the route to Alex’s house. And instead of turning around, he pushed the gas pedal harder.

He needed to see her, to know she was okay. It wasn’t like her to not return calls or texts, to not even read them at all. He tried not to let his thoughts go to a dark place as he drove down the road, picking up speed. She probably just decided to unplug for a few days, he reasoned. She’s okay.

He was nearly halfway there when his phone rang through his truck’s speakers, interrupting the music. He looked at the center console display and let out a relieved breath at the name on the screen. Alex Hawthorne.

He pressed the button on his steering wheel to answer the call. He didn’t bother with a hello. “Jesus Christ, Alex, do you know how worried I’ve been about you?”

She didn’t immediately answer. Her shock was evident in her silence. “No?” she returned, blindsided.

He let out another breath. “I’m literally driving to your house right now.”

He felt somewhat vulnerable, admitting that. He wanted to add that he hadn’t intended to drive to her house, but then she’d probably ask what he had been doing and he’d have to explain what had happened with Callie last night and he really didn’t want to get into all that right now. But then Alex let out an apologetic sigh.

“God, I’m sorry. I’m in Philly.”

That confused him. “Philly?”

“Yeah. The boys wanted me to come up to get my mind off things,” she explained. “Trent hid my phone last night so I wouldn’t drunk text anyone.”

Adam gave a small laugh when he heard that. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she laughed in return. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He let his head fall back against the headrest, suddenly feeling stupid for being so concerned. “No, it’s not your fault,” he said. “Did it work, at least? I mean, did they get your mind off things.”

She let out another sigh. “Not really,” she admitted. But before Adam could ask if she wanted to talk about it, she changed the subject. “How are you, besides worrying about me? Callie sent me a text asking for advice about something she wanted to surprise you with last night. Obviously I didn’t talk to her but… how’d that go? I asked her before calling you, but she hasn’t responded.”

Adam’s hands tensed on the steering wheel. He didn’t want to talk about this. But it wasn’t Alex’s fault she’d asked. She was just being a good friend; trying to dodge her own uncomfortable subjects. “It… didn’t go as she’d planned,” he returned, hoping she’d get the hint from his tone that he didn’t want to discuss it any further.

“Oh,” she said. Hint taken.

The silence dragged on for a few beats until Adam asked, “When will you be back?”

“Probably tomorrow,” she answered. “Why?”

“Just wondering.”

More silence. And then Alex asked, “You aren’t almost to my place, are you?”

“About halfway,” he admitted.

Another breath. “I’m s—”

“No,” he cut her off. “Stop. I needed the drive, trust me.”

She didn’t say anything in response, and Adam wondered what she was thinking; worried she would try to get him to talk about why he needed the drive. But, mercifully, she didn’t. “Well, I’m gonna go. My head is killing me and Chuck ordered greasy breakfast burritos to try to help.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. Even if Chuck and co. hadn’t managed to get her mind off things, he was glad Alex was in Philly with them rather than sitting at home by herself. Stewing in her thoughts. Like he had been. “Okay,” he said. “Feel better.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah. Later.” He hung up, and the country song he’d been listening to picked up where it had left off before Alex had called. And as he turned his truck around and started back home, he wondered if worry was the only reason he’d been on his way to Alex.

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mertronus · 4 years ago

Text

Secret Mission

Chapter 3

Read it on AO3 or FFN

M for language and innuendos. (No graphic smut though. Not on this one... So maybe T? I'm still learning. Feel free to comment or message me what you think, I'm saying M to be safe 🤷🏾‍♀️)

----

Hermione lay back on the bed and smiled up at the ceiling, thinking back to those early weeks of the mission. Merlin, her and Ron fought daily...several times a day if she was being honest. He wasn't exactly an arse; on the contrary Hermione found him to be quite humble and he even seemed to question himself and his Captain's overall faith in him as a competent leader for the team. But he contradicted and questioned everything she said. When she tried to inform him and his team on normal Parisian culture, he teased her and cracked jokes in an insultingly awful French accent. When she suggested locations where the gang of wizards they were to track down may frequent, he implied that a fair British-turned-French maiden such as herself couldn't possibly know where the rugged and dark population would frequent. When she suggested reading material for Ron and the team, he used the books as a pillow for a kip.

He had horrendous table manners, talked with his mouth full, his language was appalling, his hair was too long and always unkempt, he brandished his wand with an utter lack of finesse, and he did it all with a silly slanted grin that made Hermione feel infuriatingly flustered.

There was no denying it; Hermione fancied Ron Weasley.

After a few days of staying in the Ministry's secret bunker, Ron's team was moved discreetly to Le Chateau Cache, "The Hidden Castle", in the south of France. It was secured by the French Ministry's Unspeakables, and thus the only ones who knew about the castle, where it was located and who was being housed there were the two Unspeakables, the nine British Aurors, Hermione, and Head Auror Besson.

It was a beautiful spacious home with room for the seven men and three women (Hermione and the two female British aurors "Dora" Tonks - who refused to give her full name and demanded to be simply called Tonks - and Padma Patil). Tonks and Patil bunked together, so Hermione took a room to herself that she soon realized shared the small, cozy sitting room with the bedroom Auror Weasley claimed for himself.

It was on a quiet evening, three weeks since the start of the mission, that Hermione found herself in the sitting room reading by the fireplace, when Auror Weasley strolled into the sitting room from his bedroom.

"Granger, what are you still doing up?"

"Reading up to reacquaint myself with -" Hermione looked up as she spoke and her voice caught in her throat. Weasley was fresh from the shower. He had a towel wrapped low on his waist, gripped only by his large left hand at the hip, while he used his right hand to dry his hair with his wand. His muscular shoulders and chest were glistening in the light from the fireplace and her eyes took a second to follow a thin line of ginger hair that trailed down from his belly button only to disappear behind the white towel. He was stunning. "uh...erm," Hermione cleared her throat and shook her head.

"With Nice?" he offered. The team was scouting locations in Nice where they thought some of the dark French Wizards may be hiding out. Hermione nodded as she averted her eyes. She tried to gather her thoughts and steady her breathing. Merlin will he go and put some clothes on! Weasley came over by her perch on a chaise and peered over her shoulder at the books. "These are all in French," he scowled.

"Did you expect them to be in Russian?" she scoffed. He rolled his eyes, giving Hermione a moment to glance over his chest once more. He's standing so close. Mon dieu...he smells delicious. Delicious? Pull yourself together Granger!

"Obviously not but maybe some English would be nice. How are we," he motioned to himself and his team, "supposed to get anything from your ruddy books if they're all in French?"

"I think you're forgetting, Auror Weasley, that's what I'm for. I'm your team's translator. For French language, culture and geography."

"Well, yeah, but what about when you're not with us?"

"I'll always be with you," she sat up straighter and tensed. She knew where this was going.

"The hell you will. You're not going anywhere near these dark wizards we're rounding up. Especially not if they're auror trained. I have to look out for my team, I can't look out for you too!"

"I am highly capable of taking of myself Weasley, I will have you know. I received top marks in my defense classes at Beauxbatons and have been trained specially by Monsieur Besson himself." Hermione was standing now and her voice was raised and getting higher with each word. Hermione noticed him cast a wordless spell on the room she could only assume was a silencing charm. She squared her shoulders and stood to her full height, ready for tonight's row.

Unfortunately, Weasley's full height towered over hers. And he used that to his advantage as he stepped closer and literally talked down to her. "You think that good grades in sodding school classes or a week of 'specialized' so-called training is going to help you when one of those bastards pulls his wand on you? Or worse?! No, Granger. You are to stay here, out of harm's way," he practically growled through his teeth. "I will not be held responsible for a Ministry intern getting injured or...not on my watch." He emphasized the word intern, Hermione noticed, as an attempt to belittle her. She would not have that.

"I am a paid employee of the Ministry of Magical Affairs of France who happens to hold the respect and complete faith of the Minister himself as well as the Head Auror and the Head of the entire Magical Law Enforcement office! They would not have sent me otherwise!" Ron scoffed. "Do you expect to keep me locked up here? Like a-a little French damsel in distress locked away in your tower?"

"If I have to, yes!" he bellowed. "You're not an auror, Granger! You're not trained for combat and you will not go scouting with us!"

"And the nine of you are not trained on French culture and only two of your team know just the very basics of the language! They admitted themselves they can ask for the loo, order food, and, as they so eloquently put it, 'catch a few French birds'! You would give yourselves away immediately!"

"That's why you brief us before we leave!"

"Yes, I brief you before you leave." Weasley nodded at her, satisfied. But she wasn't done. "Then I accompany you - as Head Auror Besson assigned me to do!" Her voice rose again at the last words to cut off his attempt to interrupt in protest.

Weasley got close to Hermione once again, clearly exasperated, but this time he bent low to her face. "Fine. You want to tag along and play little French auror with the big boys, be my guest. But you're on your own. You think you can protect yourself so well, go right ahead!"

"Fine."

"I-we won't protect you."

"I don't need protecting."

"If you get hurt-"

"I won't get hurt.

"Fine."

Silence. Neither moved, their faces so close his long nose practically brushed against hers. She glanced at his full lips then looked back up at his eyes only to realize they were on her own mouth.

It happened in slow motion, but so quick she barely saw it coming all at the same time. His lips were on hers and she gasped in surprise. As if by instinct her eyes fluttered closed and her fingers found their way up his soft yet hard chest and shoulders to the back of his neck, sliding into his still damp hair. His right hand pressed against her back pulling her into him, his left hand still had to keep his towel at his waist. She swallowed his moan as she sighed against his mouth. The tension of the past three weeks had built up so quickly, Hermione felt as if she would burst.

They kissed for what felt like hours, but was only a minute before they finally pulled away. Hermione's chest rose and fell quickly at her stuttered breathing. Ron Weasley just kissed me, she thought to herself as she stared into his blue eyes. And now he's looking at me like he wants to devour me. Merlin I'm in trouble.

As Hermione dozed off to the memory of her and Ron's first kiss, she didn't hear the hotel room door quietly open and shut as the tall redhead let himself in then leaned against the door watching her sleeping form in their bed.

----

Merlin, she's so beautiful. Ron leaned against the door and took a moment to stare at his sleeping wife. Her long hair sprawled across both pillows in a mass of brown curls, her gorgeous little mouth slightly open as soft snores sounded through her lips (although she swears she does not snore), one hand tucked behind her ear, the other - her left - across her stomach. Her ring glittered in the bit of moonlight seeping through the windows and Ron was reminded of his own ring. He lifted his left hand and his wand in his right, tapped his third finger and wordlessly lifted the concealment charm from his matching wedding band.

He sighed and wondered if he should hope she would stay asleep when he crawled into bed. Being away from her all day meant he really wanted her to wake up. He wanted to talk to her, hear about her day, then treat his wife of just two weeks to a proper rogering. But, he knew that this meant telling her about his day...

And telling her that he did not, in fact, tell his mum or family about her yet.

Somehow Ron had the feeling this would lead to a lonely shower instead of bedding his wife, something he'd rather avoid if you asked him.

He sighed resolutely as he removed his trainers, socks, trousers and shirt, littering the floor as he made his way to the bed - she would fuss at him in the morning no doubt - and crawled onto the squeaky mattress in nothing but his pants. As she stirred to the motion in the bed, Ron took a deep breath. Here we go.

He moved in and put his arm over her as her eyes fluttered open. "Ron?"

"Were you expecting your other husband?" he teased as his lips brushed against her temple, her nose, her lips. She hummed in response, her arms snaking around his neck.

Suddenly she pulled back, clearly wide awake now. "You're very late," she said with a scowl.

"I know, Love, I'm so sorry. My dad walked me out to leave two hours ago," she raised her eyebrow at him, "but then at the last minute just had to pull me into his work shed to show me a new toy he was tinkering with. That led to an onslaught of him showing me all his newest muggle toys. I couldn't get away to come back to you fast enough." He moved in to kiss her again, hoping he could distract her. Perhaps get some action before the row. Although, our make-up sex is quite explosive too.

"Ron," she murmured against his lips. "Ron," she said his name again and more firmly as she pulled back. Shit... "Did you tell your family? Did you talk to them?"

Ron sighed and sat up to lean back against the headboard. Hermione followed suit. "I couldn't Mione. There was just so much going on today with my return." Hermione tsk'd her disapproval. "I know! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. But you don't understand, I can't just blurt it out to them. This is huge, my mum especially will likely be devastated she didn't see her youngest son married off. I really want to tell her first, and have her come meet you alone. Give her time to adjust and accept before the others find out."

Hermione watched him deep in thought, then actually nodded in understanding. "I think I get that. From what you've told me about your mum, she keeps you all close. You're right, this will be a big deal for her." She paused. "So, you'll tell your mum privately, bring us together to meet, then tell the rest of the family?" Ron winced and Hermione bristled. "What?" she groaned.

"Well...what I didn't realize...there's also the added issue of Harry."

"Your best friend?"

"Yes. And Ginny, my sister...his fiancee."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well...Step one is to tell my mom alone. But I think I need to add a step two - tell Harry and Ginny alone. I have to break it to them gently." He looked at Hermione's puzzled face and turned to face her. "Mione, Harry proposed to her a year and a half ago. They waited all this time, refusing to get married until I returned. He said he couldn't get married without me by his side." Ron looked at her pointedly until realization passed over her face.

"And yet you took the step without him at your side," she breathed out understanding the dilemma. "You're worried how he'll feel about that." Ron nodded sadly. "Do you think he'll be angry?"

"No...not necessarily? Gin might. She's a bit of a hot head."

"Wonder where she gets that from," Hermione mumbled.

Ron pushed her shoulder gently and scoffed. "Anyway, I know for sure Gin will feel put out. But it's harder to say with Harry. He'll be thrilled, not doubt, but he may act thrilled and try to hide his disappointment in me. Especially if he finds out with the whole lot. At least, if I can sit with him alone or just us and Gin, he'll be more honest about if he's hacked off about it or not and I can hopefully take a moment to smooth things over with him."

"Well...okay. Step one, you tell your mum, tomorrow, so she can be the first to know and meet me. Step two, you break the news gently to Harry and Ginny, so you can talk to them about your decision and make sure they don't feel left out from this major moment in your life. Then...am I okay to assume that step three will be the remainder of the family? Or is their an owl who needs to hear about us first?" Ron took her joke and chuckle as a really good sign.

"Well, yeah actually... Pig may feel a bit put out as well."

Hermione guffawed. "Ronald...your owl's name is...Pig? Really?"

Ron laughed. "Pigwidgeon actually." Hermione looked at him deeply puzzled by the name. "I know! Ruddy ridiculous name! Ginny named him after Sirius, Harry's godfather I told you about, gave him to me. Before I could consider an actual, proper name for him, that was all he would answer to! Silly little owl he is. So, I call him Pig for short."

By the end of his story Hermione was laughing. Ron joined in then tucked a curl behind her ear as their laughter subsided. "Merlin I love your laugh," he said quietly.

"Well it's a good thing you're relatively funny then," she said. She gave him 'the' smile as she sank back down to the pillows. Ron was so overjoyed that she was not upset with him that he almost missed it. He caught on as her fingers began to play with the ginger hairs that made a trail down into his pants and the bulge immediately began to grow.

"Why, Mrs. Weasley," he cooed softly as he rolled himself to hover over her, "I thought you were tired. You were already asleep when I came back." He ran his index finger softly over her eyebrow and down her cheek to trail along her jaw.

"Oh no, that was just a power nap Auror Weasley. You see," she tucked her chin and looked up at Ron through her lashes, "I have a special mission tonight."

"You do, do you?" She nodded with an almost inaudible 'mm-hmm'. Ron chuckled. She is going to be the death of me. "And what might that mission be?"

"Well," she lifted her leg to wrap around his muscular thigh, "I've only ever been bedded in France. I am quite looking forward to adding England to my list of countries where - umph!" Ron interrupted her with a deep, passionate kiss.

#auror ron weasley #ron weasley #romione #ron and hermione #hermione granger #auror harry potter

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

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6. Which scenes did you cut, and which were added in Gentle Rain? (for @janetm74 )

Okay, I can cheat somewhat with this one as I routinely keep a file for chunks of text I cut out of fics while writing. So I actually have a few of the scenes this question asks about (probably a good thing since my memory is useless).

One thing I must say is that the clincher scene where Virgil collapses in Thunderbird Two in Chapter Twelve didn’t originally happen there. I knew he was going to collapse from about Chapter Two or Three onwards, it was a target scene I was writing towards. However, he was originally supposed to collapse in Two’s hangar and be found later. The problem with that was the condition he developed (which evolved as I wrote) would have killed him if that happened. He needed someone there to save his life (sorry, Gords). So he didn’t make it back to Tracy Island before he found he couldn’t breathe.

As for scenes cut out, there were several, most of which don’t make much sense reading them now and some are just lines, but here are a few.

One of the initial challenges was finding a way to get Em and Scott to actually meet beyond the initial incident. Initially, I had Scott eager to meet her, but realised pretty quickly that the eldest Tracy wasn’t going to be that easy.

Scene: Em’s hospital room shortly when Kayo initially introduces herself.

The woman opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a beep. She sighed. “Yes, I am Kayo. Please excuse me.” And she turned away, holding her wrist up.

There was a flicker of light and a familiar voice spoke. “Kayo, have you found her yet?”

“Scott, have patience.”

“Kayo-“

“You are aware that she can hear everything you are saying?”

Em had to smirk.

“I would be if you had told me.”

“I would have told you if you hadn’t interrupted me before I could say anything. And no I haven’t asked her yet.”

“Kayo-“

“Patience, Scott.” And there was the click of an ended transmission. Kayo turned to face Em again. “My apologies. As you can hear, he is recovering well.”

“Still an argumentative brat apparently.”

“It’s one of his strengths.” She took a step back towards the bed. “He was wondering if you would be willing to meet with him. He wants to thank you for everything you did.”

Em blinked. “What?” She shifted her shoulders. “Um, er, okay.” Oh so confident and professional of you there, Emaline. She kicked herself internally.

But then she realised exactly what she now looked like. She bit her lip.

-o-o-o-

Em initially reacted completely differently to Kip’s sudden presence in the Tracy’s living room.

“What you be doin’ here, honey.”

“It’s Em, as you well know. And I’m here as a guest. What are you doing here?”

“Same.”

And the conversation ended there.

The silence was ominous. The Tracys in the room stared at each other.

Alan arrived on the scene a few moments later having secured Tracy Two. He stared at the tableau. “Okay.” He held up his hands. “I’m just going to back away quietly.”

Penny stepped around Em. “Crispin, dear, have a seat. Emaline, I advise you to do the same.” The aristocrat walked calmly into the sunken lounge and took her own chair. “Alan, do be a dear and find us some tea. I am absolutely parched.”

Alan appeared quite happy to play Parker if it would get him out of the room. Grandma and Kip took a seat together almost directly opposite from where Em came to a halt inside the circle.

Scott made a note to create a space in the lounge for ease of access, for either TB imPatient or Em’s hoverscoot. He himself pulled up beside Em and reached once again for her hand.

She responded and shot him a worried smile, her fingers curling around his.

The motion did not go unnoticed, but frankly Scott didn’t care.

Penelope, of course, was a picture of respectability.

-o-o-o-

At some point Gordon was appreciating his brother, but I’m not sure exactly what scene this was cut from. has some good lines though.

Virgil was the kind of guy you could tell your deepest problems to and he would simply listen, no judgement, no censure. Sure, get him before his coffee and you may leave minus a body part, but the man would sew it back on for you later.

Gordon and Virgil were so different, yet it was what made it work.

Of course, everyone raved about the ‘bond’ Virgil had with his older brother, sure. But Gordon liked to think that he had something with the Tracy bear, too. Something a little different, a little unique. And he knew Virgil trusted him, despite the pranks and the jokes and snide remarks. They were brothers and it went beyond all that.

So when Virgil sat down beside him at the helm looking like death that hadn’t been warmed up...

-o-o-o-

Originally, when Kay left Virgil’s hospital room when she told him she couldn’t handle him giving his life to IR, Virgil lost it and had to be sedated. This proved to be completely ridiculous and OOC and was dumped (I think one of my beta readers nabbed me on that one). The scene I have has been partially rewritten, but the remnants are there.

“What the hell was I supposed to do? If Brains dies, International Rescue dies with him!”

Kayo had tears in her eyes. “And what do you think would happen to International Rescue without you?”

His heart stuttered and it had nothing to do with his injury. He reached out to touch her but she stepped away. That hurt even more. “Kay? Please?”

“No, Virgil, you have to understand this.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Without you, there is no International Rescue.” She swallowed and another tear drifted across her beautiful skin. He so wanted to touch her. “It shouldn’t be that way. I can’t share you that much. I want to share your life, you...you can’t give it all to iR. Please, Virgil.”

He reached for her again, desperate to touch her. “Kay!” She took another step back. Her head was shaking ‘no’, tears running freely. “Kay, no, don’t, please don’t!”

“It has to change. Things have to change. I can’t...I can’t...” Whatever she was trying to say dissolved into a sob and she turned away. “I can’t.” She ran from the room.

“Kay, no!” The machinery monitoring him screamed as he tried to get out of bed. A mob of nurses came running and he was buried under a sea of medical white.

“Mr Tracy, calm down!”

“Kay!” His face was wet. He struggled against hands. “Kay!”

“Mr Tracy!”

“Kay, please!” But his heart was hammering in his chest and he was gasping for breath. Spots danced in his vision. He couldn’t.

Please, Kay, I’ll do anything...anything...

“Mr Tracy, if you don’t calm down, I will be forced to sedate you.”

He stared at the blonde haired nurse so opposite from his Kay.

He let all his muscles go, falling slack back against the bed. A sound far too much like a whimper passed his lips.

Kay?

God.

Anything for Kay.

-o-o-o-

Words passed over his head, he ignored them, he needed to get to Kay.

But something flooded his system, a calming, sleep inducing cold. It wrapped around his mind and pulled him down. “No! Kay!” His voice was fading. He had to get to Kay. Please, Kay, I’ll do anything...anything...

But the cold seeped into his mind and took it away.

-o-o-o-

The Epilogue was rewritten a couple of times. I had an argument with it. In the process I killed off an entire original character, Frederico. Poor Frederico. I should revive him in another fic.

“Virgil’s a target?” Scott’s whisper was fierce. They were standing outside a meeting with the Colonel Casey, Lauren Davis and a representative of both the Western Australian Police and ASIO.

John bit the inside of his lip. “Kayo tagged Em with one of Virgil’s trackers. The timing was just too perfect, too coincidental. Either the bombers were after Em or Virgil. Probability puts Virgil at the top of the list.”

“How did they get the frequency?”

“Unknown.”

“Re-scramble everything. I want everything changed. Start with the frequencies, but speak to Brains, I want everything upgraded, even the subcutaneous.”

John gave him a single nod. That was going to hurt. “Already in progress.”

“Have you told Kayo?”

“No, but I have no doubt she is fully capable of putting the pieces together.”

Scott nodded, but his expression changed, even more concern deepening his frown. “If they wanted Em or Virgil, why bomb a bridge?” He swallowed. “Why not just kill or capture? And it would have been obvious it was coming from Em not Virgil.”

The knot in John’s gut only twisted tighter, his brother was thinking out loud. “Perhaps they wanted to see how we would react? How important Em is to the organisation?”

There was so much anger in Scott’s stance, John fought the urge to take a step back. “Goddamnit.” He clenched a fist. “I want to know who, how and why. Full resources, John. Get Kayo and Penny on this. I want it fixed and I want them found.”

“FAB.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil found her in her office, hissing at one of their agents. “Frederico, so help me, if you don’t take this seriously, I’ll strip you of your IR credentials and throw you in the Atlantic.”

“Is that a death threat?” Virgil couldn’t help but smile. Frederico never took anything seriously, much less a death threat from his boss. He did, however, do an exemplary job at finding information to not be serious about.

-o-o-o-

But one of the scenes I had to cut quite hard was the scene where Em and Scott woke up in the same bed. Apparently, they were ready to take their relationship much further than I was and I had to draw their amour to an abrupt halt before it got entirely out of hand.

God, she was beautiful. Breaking off, he kissed her jawline, tracing it around to her ear and nibbling on her lobe.

Her fingers teased the hair on the nape of his neck, while her other hand slipped under his jacket, brushing across his shirt, around his ribcage to his back, fingertips digging in at his ministrations.

“Scott Tracy, you know how to drive a girl wild.” Her voice was rough and he took it as permission to continue a trail of kisses down her neck, nuzzling her collarbone.

His reward was a gasp at his touch. His left hand had found the bare skin of her back once more and was denting that softness enough to hold her close. His other hand was at her waist, satin between his fingers.

“You are one gorgeous man.” And her tongue was in his mouth again, urgent against his.

-o-o-o-

Please keep in mind these are all trash can scenes and were cut for good reasons.

I hope they provide a little amusement.

As for what was added to the fic...I write very haphazardly and by the seat of my pants most of the time. The whole fic was added after the first chapter really :D

Thanks for asking and for reading all that :D

Nutty

(Who should write more Em, I miss her)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #gentle rain

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darlinrogue · 4 years ago

Note

Having played hockey for years, Kenny is certainly agile. Having wrestled for years, Kenny, again, is certainly agile—quick and light on his feet. Dancing, however, is something else entirely. Similar to ice skating, but much more precise. Similar to wrestling, but you’re probably not supposed to hurt your partner. But Page had asked him for a dance, and how could Kenny say ‘no?’ “Real romantic, cowboy.” One of his hands intertwining with Page’s, the other at his shoulder. “You lead, then.”

Slow Dancing

|| Adam and Kenny // @ofgrief

The phone screen blurred. A flick of his finger sent text bubbles flying. The group chat brimmed with messages and notifications he wasn’t ever going to read. Adam opened the settings. His thumb hovered over the ‘leave group’ button, scrawled in red text. Instead, he closed the app and opened Spotify. He chose a playlist labelled ‘relaxing.’ Softer country music, more folksy shit, some slower Led Zeppelin. A lot of Bruce Springsteen sounding sad. The work of slower tempos that wouldn’t grate on his nerves. Made an unfamiliar space more his own.

Adam hooked his leg up on the bar stool spindle. He rubbed his hand over his jaw and dragged his fingernails through the beard stubble. The nice lady who did hair and make-up trimmed it for him today. The ice shifted in his drink, two fingers of whiskey. Week-to-week the bars changed. The scenery shifted with the ever traveling road shows of AEW. Some constants remained like the cheap chairs, the bland decor, the warm lights. Every bar had a different style of glass, some taller, some thinner, some clear, and some clouded. After hours, the bar was always the quietest spot as wrestlers escaped the halls for hotels and the production crew packed-up shop. Most important, no one Adam was avoiding ever came to the bar. It was a guaranteed retreat. At least in Jacksonville he could drive home tomorrow morning. Cuddle his dogs and be a homebody for a week. Silence the group chat, put his head phones in, and run until he didn’t know where he was anymore.

The holidays were a brief respite and a greater blessing. Adam returned to his childhood home as a jaded man seeking shelter from the shit storm just off his family property. He drank eggnog with his mom and helped her set up the Christmas tree. Caught-up with his sister and went riding with in the nipping cold of late-December. Shared the traditional whiskey shot with his father by the kitchen sink. Distant relatives filtered by for dinner. Cousins that patted Adam on the back and told him they saw him on TV. Grandparents that just didn’t get why Adam stopped being a teacher, even years later. Grandma made pies for Christmas morning and Adam’s mom got him cool cowboy themed pajamas. For a second Adam forgot about what waited outside the front gate. Then he arrived in Jacksonville, New Year’s Day, and it all came around.

The door opened and Adam glanced over his shoulder. Kenny peaked around the corner, his hair fallen over his shoulders. When he spotted Adam, he smiled, teeth flashing. Kenny walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Hey, hey, there you are Pizz!” Kenny greeted, he snapped his fingers rhythmically as he jaunted over to Adam. Kenny slid onto the bar stool and his eyes darted over the room. Kenny wiggled his hips, the leather creaking, as he situated himself in his seat. There was an easy grace to his movements but a tight tension in his shoulders. “Been looking all over for you.”

Sweat stains darkened the fabric across Kenny’s chest and arms. His hair was damp but drying, curls fluffed and unruly. The match earlier left his cheeks flushed from exertion. Kenny sighed as he leaned back against the chair, face tilting to the ceiling and eyes fluttering closed. Adam bet that was the first time he’d sat down all day. Trapped in a ring with Rey Fenix, Pentagon, and PAC, Adam counted it lucky Kenny stumbled-out with all his attached pieces.

“You good?” Adam asked, he tapped the volume down on his phone so the melodramatic singing dropped to a low purr. ‘Drive me—crazy’ “You guys had a good match out there tonight.”

“Yeah, we did, a great start to the year if you ask me,” Kenny said. He looked at Adam and he grinned again. Something flipped in Adam’s stomach. “Can’t ever complain about a mark in the win column, especially against PAC. I feel good, like I’m getting my feet under me.”

To emphasize his improving condition, Kenny shook-out his arms and shoulders. A jitter that extended all the way to his fingers. He interlaced his hands and stretched-out his shoulders with an arch of his back. He settled his grip on the counter edge. Kenny chewed on his lip and there wasn't anything playful in his eyes.

“You know, it would’ve been nice, if you came and joined us, after?” Kenny admitted. “Matt, Nick, Cody, myself, we all would’ve loved to celebrate with you. You know, like a family. None of us thought AEW would last to the New Year, this was a big deal, a big night. Something we couldn’t have done without you.”

Adam breathed a laugh, shaking his head. He sought the last bit of comfort he could wring from his glass. “You know, I’m just, trying to get some space. Get my shit sorted-out before I hand it all to you guys. I just don’t think— I just didn’t think it’d be a good idea to go down to the ring.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” Kenny said, and Adam doubted it. Because the next thing he said was, “Matt and Nick miss you. I miss you.”

“Yeah, I— I know,” Adam said. He investigated his glass, the intricate pattern of cut crystal and how the light played between the facets. The pale press of his white, scarred knuckles. He attempted to make new friends, to branch-out, hadn’t worked-out too hot. Adam’s glorious single’s run, hadn’t worked-out too hot either. Hell, next week he even had a match with Kenny. So, evidently his bold proclamation that he was leaving the Elite, was not heard. Maybe he hadn’t been loud enough. “Like, I said, I just, need some time.”

“That’s fine, but, Adam? We’re here for you. We’ll always be here for you,” Kenny said.

Adam’s eyes snapped-up to meet Kenny’s gaze. The sound of his name so foreign in Kenny’s mouth. The Bucks called him ‘Hangman’ and the comms ‘Adam Page.’ Kenny favored ‘Page’ or ‘Pizz,’for some reason. The only time Adam heard just his name was when he talked to his mom. Those two syllables, in Kenny’s mouth, set a fire in Adam’s chest. It was a spell. Kenny could ask for literally anything and Adam would say ‘yes.’ A totally unfair advantage. Kenny left Adam helpless and weak; But Adam let Kenny hold all the cards.

Kenny, unaware of his power, patted Adam’s thigh. His palm rested against Adam’s jean and his nails worked against the fabric. Adam heard his pulse in his throat. “So, whenever you’re ready to come back? We’ll be here, waiting. Don’t think we’re just going to forget about you, or that you’re not welcome. The Elite, us, we’re something special, and it’s always going to mean something. Yeah, we can fight and have our disagreements, but that’s okay. We will always come back together.”

Adam grinned, the corner of his mouth curling. “You have been feeling better, lately, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I have,” Kenny breathed with a laugh. He patted Adam’s thigh and knee once more before retracting his hand. “I took those first few losses really hard, I’ll admit that, but I’m back! I got my feet underneath me and I’m ready for the new year. I felt it tonight, Kenny Omega, is back, and I think the crowd felt it too. They were a live wire tonight, oh, I could feel it in my toes. Did you see it?”

“You uh, definitely seemed, happier?” Adam managed.

Kenny nodded and smiled approvingly. This Kenny, with his easy grins and ‘Power of Friendship’ speeches was a helluva a lot better than whatever the hell was going on in October. A few months ago he was barely functional. His voice muted and dulled over the phone. Adam wasn’t going to pretend that their way-too-late at night phone calls had anything to do with Kenny’s improvement. Kenny just needed someone to vent to that wasn’t Michael Nakazawa or a Young Buck. So, that left Adam. Adam also wasn’t going to pretend that his willingness to stay-up way past his bedtime wasn’t an act of pure devotion. Any excuse to talk to Kenny. Any excuse to have something special with Kenny.

Even when Adam knew he shouldn’t be talking to the Elite —for their collective good— Adam made an exception for Kenny. What puzzled Adam the most though was Kenny’s willingness to listen back. To hear-out Adam’s side of the story and all his twisted anxieties and fears. About the more wretched parts of Adam he couldn’t even tell his mom about.

For Kenny to hear about the worst aspects of his past and personality, and decide to keep talking to him— that part confused Adam.

“So, uh, about next week, I saw on the graphic we have a match?” Adam interjected. “Against Private Party? When did that happen?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Kenny asked, his brow furrowed and creased but it melted off in a heartbeat. He shrugged, “Yeah, TK booked it for us. We got two wins, and in a young company like ours? That’s pretty notable.”

“They’re shitty wins, Kenny,” Adam pointed-out.

Mox and Pac did not qualify as a tag-team. They worked like two Rottweilers shoved in a sack together and then told to get along. All Kenny and Adam had to do was stand back and watch the duo implode. Kip Sabian and Shawn Spears were a mess, in the worst ways. Of course those two flimsy wins, was before Adam factored in their two losses. Both against legitimate tag-teams that knocked Kenny and Adam down a peg. Kenny and Adam may’ve been in the same stable for close to four years, but it’d been that long since Adam shared a corner with him. It absolutely showed too. Adam had watched the tapes back and he bet Kenny didn’t appreciate the bruises from his so called partner.

“But wins, nonetheless,” Kenny retorted. He bunted his knuckles against Adam’s shoulder. “Shitty wins count. We take those.”

“Private Party is a real tag-team,” Adam said, but he shrugged, nonchalant. Smacked the back of his hand against his palm on each word for emphasis. “But I guess I can whoop their asses.”

“That’s the spirit,” Kenny said.“Yeah, Private Party beat the Bucks. They’re good, but not that good, I think we can do it.”

“Mhmm, you have a lot of faith in me,” Adam grunted. He placed his glass down and leaned against the counter. Regarding Kenny with a quick sweep of his eyes.

“Of course, I do, I told you, we got something special, I can feel it.” Kenny smoothed the word feel as long as it would go.

The music changed on Adam’s phone and his mind drifted from Kenny. Kenny launched, undeterred, into theorizing strategy. An Orville Peck song, with gentle string, a soft melody, singing about nostalgia and dreams. Adam grinned to himself, medicated just enough to consider something dangerous. For a guy lovesick with Kenny Omega these thoughts were perilous. It’d been a year now and Adam had sat on his hands like an idiot, pinning away. Hell with it, it was a bad idea but following bad ideas through was his modus operandi these days. Adam hummed low in his throat, cutting Kenny off as he waxed about Mark Quinn’s right leg.

“Dance with me,” Adam murmured, voice soft, barely a whisper. Like his throat was trying to strangle the words before he uttered them. Not at all the gruff confidence he had hoped to seduce Kenny with.

Adam pushed-off the bar stool and offered his hand. He grinned, bashful, feeling as awkward as he had when he was at Junior prom. This wasn’t weird, right? They’d done weirder, this was fine. More than fine when Kenny took Adam’s hand and Adam felt the press of Kenny’s callouses against his.

“Real romantic, cowboy.” Kenny breathed and the last of Adam’s confidence melted. Cowboy, that was new, and Adam liked it. He really liked how Kenny said it. “You lead, then.”

Adam laughed and ducked his chin to his chest. With his free hand he turned the music up on his phone. There was lightning at his finger tips as he ran his palm over Kenny’s hip. Kenny put his hand on Adam’s shoulder and grinned obnoxiously as he obviously felt-up Adam’s bicep. A couple inches between their chests and warmth flushed Adam’s throat. Adam whispered ‘okay,’ and his heart thudded. Kenny had to hear it. Feel Adam’s pulse in their joined hands. Terrible, stupid, perfect idea— when Kenny rejected him for being a lovesick fool it wasn’t going to be so great.

“It’s just some team building.” Adam preempted and placated Kenny. With his hand on Kenny’s hip he nudged the other man to sway with him. Nothing but a little stutter step. “You know, so we’re ready for next week.”

“Ah, yeah, team building,” Kenny chuckled. Adam met his eyes, and swallowed hard. Their noses a hair’s breadth apart. Adam wished he had brushed his teeth so his breath didn’t smell like alcohol. “You slow dance with all your partners?”

“Yeah, actually, Jason and I learned to waltz when we first started tagging,” Adam admitted. Kenny gapped at him. Clearly his question had been rhetorical and now Adam regretted bringing it up. “I mean, for the foot work and all that, it was just a good way to get in sync, you know?”

“Right,” Kenny said, and Adam wondered if his lack of enthusiasm meant something.

Two high fliers like Jason Blade and Adam Page needed immaculate tandem offense. It was a process, to get used to each other’s rhythms. To know when the other had taken too much damage and needed that blind tag. When to slow down, or speed-up, as the match dragged on. It worked, they got used to each other’s rhythms. Eventually they didn’t need the waltz at all, it was just a crutch. Adam had only suggested it as a joke but it did wonders for their footwork. Less so for their teamwork as they quibbled over who would lead.

(Adam eventually got the role because he was better at it than Jason).

Adam lifted his arm and after a second to process, Kenny twirled underneath. Adam pulled Kenny back as Kenny stepped in. A little too much momentum and Kenny stumbled into Adam’s chest. The heel of Kenny’s loafer drove between the two delicate bones on Adam’s big and second toe. If this was skee-ball then Kenny just scored the 100 points. Adam cussed and hissed, jerking away from Kenny. He rubbed the top of his boot over his calf to diminish the pain.

Kenny hissed between his teeth, “Yep, that was my bad. Sorry. You good?”

Adam kicked and shook his leg to return feelings to his toes. “So, was that payback?”

“Maybe,” Kenny teased. “Can we try again though?”

Kenny’s grin was rueful as Adam returned to him. He placed his hand back in Adam’s offered palm. Despite his sore foot, Adam was eager to have Kenny back in his arms. To feel the firm strength of his hip and lat underneath his hand. Back to their awkward little shuffle step and this time, Kenny pulled Adam closer. Chest-to-chest, Kenny rested his chin in the crook of Adam’s shoulder. His nose brushed against the wisps of Adam hair. A soft whisper of Kenny’s breath against Adam’s throat. Adam tried not to stiffen, as if his tension would scare Kenny away. Tried to find Kenny’s heartbeat, his rhythm, but when he did he couldn’t bring himself to fall in lock step. Wondered why he had to follow at all.

Except, Kenny had asked Adam to lead.

Adam experimented and lifted his arm again. This time Kenny unfurled and laughed each step of the way as he twirled underneath. Adam guided Kenny back to him, chuckling as their grip changed and Kenny’s hand flattened against his chest. The song ended without flourish. Gunmetal blue, the details of Kenny’s iris, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Shirts rucked, hands joined, and the slight huff of their breath in tandem. The playlist rolled to the next song. Adam and Kenny broke, then stepped away together. Hands lifting to rub at the back of their necks in mirrored gestures. Adam had an apology at the tip of his tongue.

“That was nice, Page,” Kenny said, his voice soft “We should definitely do it again sometime but—”

“You have to go?” Adam guessed.

“Yeah, Cody, the Bucks, and I are going out for a late-dinner,” Kenny admitted. His fingers twisted with the front of his shirt. “I won’t— I won’t ask you to come. I know how you feel, but I wanted you to know we were going out, and that if you wanted to join us? We’ll always save you a seat.”

Adam nodded, his thumb hooking in his belt loop. He licked his lips and studied the floor. “Thanks, Kenny, I appreciate it. I really do.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later,” Kenny said. He walked backwards to the door, chewed on the inside of his mouth. “Do you think— Can we meet early, like a couple days before the match, it’s in Mississippi, right? Maybe we can fly down early, get in the gym, and just, you know, work on stuff? Private Party is a real tag-team, we gotta be ready.”

Adam hesitated, thinking of the phone calls he’d have to make to get his flight changed. Packing early, a couple days less home. Finding someone to take care of his dogs while he was gone. The logistics crowded the forefront of his brain and yet all the back latched-onto was Kenny. His hopeful, shy blue eyes, and his little half smile. It was such a terrible idea, this was going to be beyond inconvenient but, two days with just Kenny, working-out, figuring out this tag-team they were evidently doing, and—

Shit.

“Yeah,” Adam managed, “We can do that.”

“Alright! I’ll see you in Mississippi, then, cowboy,” Kenny cackled. He backed-up and rested his hand on the door handle. He pointed at Adam. “Text you details later. Just you wait until we break-out some tandem offense on Private Party, it’ll all be worth it. Catch ya’ later, Pizz.”

The door closed behind Kenny and in his absence, Adam sighed. He worked his hand over his jaw and wondered if he was going grey early. Somehow, someway, Kenny had slipped the rug out from underneath him and made them a tag-team. Adam had agreed to tag with Kenny versus Mox and PAC because they both needed it, but this had become something more. Something Adam was not prepared for. It was a commitment but also an opportunity.

If they were doing this, Adam realized, he had to commit. He couldn’t half-ass a tag-team with Kenny Fucking Omega. Even if he felt like this was a terrible idea that was going to screw them both sideways. Not now, not even soon, but in a few months, maybe a year, when all of this unraveled and Adam slipped in a pool of his own blood.

“The point BJ, is that when the moment presented itself to him, he did grab it with an iron grip.”

Years of practice, months in the gym, days spent at Jimmy Valiant’s training camp, drilling counters, perfecting the snap of his hips as Adam flipped into a high bridge. Pressing onto his tip-toes, all his weight leveraged down on a bigger opponent. Adam Pearce had two inches and forty pounds on Adam. One opening was all Adam needed, though. The shock in the room on the three count had been palpable. The audience’s collectively gasped and it was a pure adrenaline shot to Adam’s veins. Shock erupted into open cheers. Adam on his knees, grinning with pride and surprise, like he wasn’t even sure he had won. BJ ruffled his hair fondly. He was not supposed to win this match but he did. Jimmy Jacobs, the entire crowd, the commentators, they didn’t believe in Adam Page, but Adam did. Back then that was enough to pull out a miracle.

“He did put a vice around it, BJ! And he won the match!”

Adam Pearce popped Adam Page’s confidence like a balloon. Pearce’s right palm smashed across Adam’s cheek so hard he tasted it. Adam won the match, he won the battle; But Jimmy Jacobs point was clear: he did not win the war. And Adam was at war. This was a no-holds barred beatdown and he was on the curb. Blood in his hair, eyes shot, and fingers shaking. The Bucks at his throat. Kenny with his back to a ledge, grinning at him with unrestrained excitement about a match next week. Next week, against Private Party, a real tag-team. Not the shitty ‘teams’ they had been fighting. Not a fight he could check into for the sake of Kenny or the peace.

“It doesn’t matter, because that was the test you failed.”

Pearce’s finger jabbed into Adam’s face. He went cross eyed trying to look at it. Felt and suppressed the tremble in his bottom lip. When Adam was a little kid he watched wrestling on the TV and felt a bone deep need. A wrestling ring was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had to get in that ring. Nothing else mattered, and for a time the trampoline in the backyard would do, but that ring called to him. He wanted to feel the give under his step, the flex of the ropes. Smell the sweat and blood that’d seeped into the mats over decades, decades of history, legacy, and war. A written history Adam longed to inscribe his name into. When Adam was a child he didn’t care about belts or titles, if he just got into a wrestling ring, got to stand in one, he’d be happy.

It was a simple, unambitious dream, but for a kid from rural Virginia is was his dream. Well, he got in one, and it was like a drug, he had to do it again, and again, and again, and he got good at it. So good that he won more matches than he lost. He had to feel the thrum of a crowd in his ears. Test himself on an opponent, stretch the limits of his ability. Once, Adam had thought to himself, while running the the apron to a moonsault, pushing off his leading leg, his back arched, and his heart grazing the ceiling, ‘I wish I was actually this strong.’

That the confidence of Adam Page, professional wrestler, The Hangman, carried over into his day-to-day. That the power of his chops translated to an unflinching voice when he spoke. That the technique of his flip was as impressive as his social prowess. Adam never second guessed himself before a suplex but he did in everything else. It shocked him he had the spine to ever even get in a ring in the first place, to go to Japan, to enter the G1, to join an upstart company like AEW, or to even go outside.

An opportunity was presenting itself to Adam Page. Kenny Omega, the best bout machine and a great visionary, already saw it. Adam saw it too and he suspected its appearance was not accidental, not a luck of the draw. He wanted to call Kenny and tell him to cancel the match. His stomach twisted with the thought. This was a bad, bad idea, to step down a twisting path that he couldn’t see the end of. Going back to tag-teams, tagging with the leader of the group he was trying to leave, and the man he’d been totally lovesick with for over a year. Adam hesitated, his hand hovering over his phone.

“At some point, the both of you will have seen everything there is to see. Have been able to do everything there is to do, and when the moment presents itself, you won’t hesitate to reach for it. Because you already know that you grabbed it before it presented itself. Time will do that for you.”

Adam’s hand flattened against the bar counter, pinned like a taxidermy bug to the board. He grabbed it when he rolled Adam Pearce through to the bridge. He grabbed it when Matt offered a spot in the Bullet Club. When he hung Chris Sabine and became the Hangman. He grabbed it when he snatched the title from Jay White and held it above his head like it could be his. He grabbed it when he won the battle royale. When he rode a horse to a ring that belonged to a legend to whom he would serve as a footnote. Most of the time, it slipped his fingers, because his grip was slick with sweat, and he was a young man, lacking time. But Adam had never missed, never hesitated, and if he was going to do this—

If he was going to walk into next week, take that match with Kenny and fight Private Party. He was going to commit.

No more half-assed bullshit. No more ducking away and avoiding a future he dreaded. They were going to do this and it was going to suck, and the effort was probably going to kill him. It’d probably would mean that by the end Kenny hated him. And that would also suck, but Adam wasn’t going to spend his whole life pinning for something he could never have. Not when there was something he could have and it was gold around his waist. An accomplished career that he could die happy with. The Bucks patting his shoulders and arms, telling him he did great, they’re proud.

It was going to suck, it was going to kill him but at least he got to pick his poison.

#ofgrief #‘The Hangman’ || Adam: IC #‘Deals with God’ || Adam: Verse

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divagonzo · 6 years ago

Text

Knight’s Side Castle - Ch. 4 of Beloved

Ch. 1 - Bishop’s Castle Ch. 2 - Pawn Ch. 3 - Knight

Ao3 // FF.net

A/N: In light of the lovely Ace followers, this is the PG-15/15 version of the story. Ao3 has the unedited version for appreciation.

Tagging Tagging @xweasleyfraserx, @remedial-potions ,@weasleymama @kingronw @vivithefolle @austenpoppy @melimelrockswell1204 @ashleopardd @hillnerd since people asked to be tagged when this first went around. (Sorry @justsaya for the extra tag.)

Tags: There’s some serious rowing in this one. So if you’re easily upset at intense arguments, you might want to IM/ask me so I can summarize for you.

“We came as soon as I heard,” Percy and Audrey slipped into the room with the rest of the family. “How is he?” Audrey kept back, looking splendid in her pale blue mind healer robes. “If I’m late for work so be it,” Percy spoke up.

“Alive, thankfully,” Arthur stood up first and went to give his middle son a hug. It wasn’t as awkward like it was years prior but tension filled the room. He hugged Audrey too, smiling at her. They hadn’t been engaged a month yet. “But that’s all we know for now.” Percy bent over to hug his Mum firmly, whispering something in her ear before she said something back too quiet for the others to hear.

“He got hurt on the mission,” Harry added. “We were out chasing a werewolf and – “

“The Healers will try to wake him later,” Molly interrupted, dry washing her hands on her lap.

“The Healers don’t know if he will wake,” Hermione wiped her eyes, for what looked like the hundredth time this morning. “It’s bad, Percy.” Audrey came over and hugged Hermione, whispering in her ear before the younger witch nodded back.

Percy turned and took a long, hard look at his youngest brother. He took his glasses off, pulling a kerchief from his pocket and cleaned his glasses. “How? I mean, how did he get hurt?”

“Our forth was on loan from the Welsh office. He cocked up,” Harry spoke up.

“You never said that git Trowbridge was on loan from the Welsh office.” Hermione’s dark eyes turned towards Harry and he felt the first instinct to recoil. She turned back to Percy. “That git hurt my husband accidentally.”

“Well, he was and it was, Hermione. He screwed up his wand movements and misaimed. It wasn’t intentional. We knew he was not the best but he was all we had available at that time. It’s not like we can ask a loose werewolf to go curl up and sleep while we try to scare up someone more competent than a troll.”

“And you just now thought of telling us, that Ron might die because you couldn’t be arsed to speak up and say, No, that git isn’t going with us.” Some of her hair escaped the wrap around her hair, covering her face before she tried to swipe it away before falling back in her eyes.

“It’s not like we have a choice in the matter, Hermione. It was a werewolf on the loose in a mostly muggle village. We took who we had and went with it. How was I supposed to know that he was completely incompetent? We thought he was only half-way incompetent.”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe tell that witch Jones that you’re not having someone who could kill my husband going out on the mission with you. Did you ever think of the others on your team?”

“This isn’t some cushy desk job where you sit and write legislation all day to protect others,” Harry snarled.

“Enough!” Audrey’s firm voice interrupted. “Harry, take a walk. Go eat something but go take a walk.”

Piercing green eyes turned on his eventual sister-in-law. “I am not – “

“I’m not asking, Harry,” Audrey kept her voice light and jovial but the edge was underneath it. Everyone in the room was watching, much like when he first faced the Norwegian Ridgeback way back when.

“Fine,” he stood and grabbed his jacket. “Rowing with Hermione isn’t how I want to spend my hours worrying about my best friend,” he slid past Audrey and to the door. “But I’ll be arsed if I’m the one to blame for this whole fucked up situation.” He slipped out, leaving it ajar.

“I’ll see if I can sooth his ruffled scales,” Arthur got up, “Maybe get some tea and scones for us,” He slipped out of the room silently, leaving the others behind.

An audible sniff broke the tension in the room.

Percy bent over the end of the bed, holding his head between his hands, saying something under his breath. When he stood up, he pushed his glasses back on. His eyes were puffy and red. “I can’t stay but I’ll be by after work. If anything changes before then, someone let me know,” his eyes fell on Hermione and she nodded in silent agreement. She sniffed before raking the back of her hand across her face.

Percy went to the head of the bed and leaned over, making sure to not touch his brother’s head. Cracked lips were an inch from the Quidditch helmet covering the bandaging around Ron’s head. The contusions on his face clashed with the bright ginger hair on Percy’s head. He spoke quietly, so quiet that no one could hear him before he stood up and went to give hugs for the others. “I’ll let the Minister know,” his voice was rough. Percy found Ron’s size 12 feet and squeezed them once. Percy left the room, leaving the women behind.

“Healer Cattermole, how long have you been on duty?”

The junior healer looked up from her expansive parchment at the older woman. “Since 8 last night. Things have been touch and go since Midnight with Auror Weasley.”

Audrey glanced around at the others. Molly was looking at Ron, trying to hide the tears leaking down her face with the handkerchief from her housecoat before tucking it back in and then pulling it right back out. Hermione had her head in her hands, shaking without making a sound.

“Why don’t you take an hour and grab a bite to eat or take a kip?”

“But I am supposed – “

“I’ll cover for you for an hour.”

“But Healer Greengrass and – “

“Nonsense. I can cover for an hour. I don’t want you exhausted and make a mistake. I promise to wake you if anything changes.”

“Yes, you’re right,” She slumped in the chair. “I’ll go get a kip.” The junior healer left her parchment and quill on the desk. She slipped out of the room, leaving the Weasley wives behind.

Audrey picked up the parchment and scanned it. She stopped, looked over the top of it at Ron in the bed and then went back to it, scanning it again.

“What does it say?” Hermione asked.

“Most of it is medical jargon. It’s quite boring,” Audrey looked back at the parchment.

“Rubbish,” Hermione spoke up. “What does it say?”

“Hermione, I – “

“Audrey, my parents are dentists. I read their medical books as a child. I have some understanding, even if it’s not as detailed as you might have.”

“You would,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re not going to like it.” The two women shared a long look, not bothering to look at Mrs. Weasley.

“Please,” Hermione begged.

Audrey pierced her with a hard look before relenting. “Don’t say I didn’t try to protect you.”

“That passed years ago and you know it.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “The Healers, including the junior healer, laid out their diagnoses and what they hope they can accomplish.”

“And?”

“Everything in this says to keep him comfortable and pain-free. They,” her voice broke a moment, “they don’t expect him to wake and eventually succumb to his injuries.”

“They did not,” Molly interrupted. “They said he would wake.”

“They said he probably would,” Hermione spoke over her. “I can’t believe they fed us a line of rubbish.”

“They aren’t, Hermione. What this is discussing is what reasonable outcomes they consider. Of course they want the best outcome. We all do. They aren’t going to give up on him. And it also discusses options when he does wake. You’re getting bent over normal medical information.”

“But that’s not what the junior healer wrote there.” Hermione came over to demand the parchment.

“I can’t let you read it. If you did she would be fired immediately and I would too. I can’t share this.”

“But you said – “

“I can discuss generalities. I can’t discuss specifics.”

“Bullshit,” She snapped. “This is all bullshit. I want answers and you’re feeding us Dragon dung. We need some Neurologists brought in. I’m going to call my parents and get the name of the best one in London.”

“Hermione,” Audrey tried to calm Hermione down.

“No, I won’t. We need them. We need another opinion. Or three. I will not stand by waiting for him to perish when I could do more than sit on my arse waiting on him to wake when it’s not guaranteed, much less expected.”

“Hermione, please, he’s getting – “ Molly tried to quell her.

“No,” she screeched. “He has to get better.”

“Hermione, I’ve read everything on the page, including what happened to him. The prognosis for what they had to do to save his life, it’ll be a bloody miracle he will wake.”

“He has to wake!” She shouted. “I’m not going to sit on my arse and do nothing to help.”

“Hermione, hush. That’s enough. I know you’re -”

Hermione cut across Molly. “No, I won’t. I can’t lose him. I refuse to sit idly by when he’s in this state. He’s come so far,” she yelled. “We’ve come so far.” She turned and yelled his way. “Don’t you dare leave me, Ron Weasley! You promised!”

“Hermione, yelling at him won’t make him wake.”

She turned, snarling. “Yes, it will! It worked for me.” She went up near his head. “Ron, wake up! Ron!” She grabbed his larger than life hand, dwarfing her own. “Ron, please, wake up!”

Molly went to hug Hermione from behind. She shrugged her off, twirling on her. “Don’t you tell me to calm down.” She turned back to Ron and pulled his hand to between hers, squeezing off and on. “He got to wake! I can’t do this without you!”

“Why do you think you’re alone in this, Hermione? We’re here. It’s not like – “

Hermione huffed, trying to regain her composure and failing. She turned on Molly. “Oh, like how you had no qualms listening to liars trying to cause strife and not asking me? How you were more than happy to send Harry and Ron monstrous amounts of sweets at Easter and barely anything for me, all because of that dung beetle Skeeter writing rubbish about me.” Hermione started shaking. “How about when I sent my parents off to Australia and when I arrived at your home you barely acknowledged me for the first week and only when Harry arrived that you deigned to speak with me? And I won’t even discuss how you intentionally kept me apart from Ron then, when nothing was happening between us, thinking me a scarlet woman already?

“If anything did happen to Ron, I would not be welcome anymore. You’ve shown me that time and time again.”

“That’s not true,” Molly hissed.

“Really? I remember you screaming at me to not hurt George when he was pissed at Harry’s birthday party, or how you branded me a scarlet woman, chasing me off because you couldn’t cope with Ron choosing me over you. And let’s not forget you telling Ron to abandon me to come live at home with you and Arthur and Ginny when he’d already told you what he was going to do and it wasn’t that. Or don’t you remember those terrible things you told me the week before we left to go to Australia to find my parents? Don’t you remember those horrible things when we came back? Or how you didn’t give a damn about me, only the rules of your home?”

Audrey stepped between the two witches, feeling the animosity bouncing off of her. She chose to focus on Molly. “Molly, how about I join you for some tea and then you run home to get changed? I know you want to be here today and wearing your housecoat and slippers won’t be that comfortable.” how about I join you for some tea in a moment and we can leave Hermione here with her husband a bit?”

Molly ignored her sodden handkerchief and focused on Audrey’s suggestion. “Yes, I think I will do that, and come back in an hour or so too.” She stared past Audrey, seeing Hermione falling apart. “Maybe having some tea and toast this morning will help.”

When she turned back, Hermione was bent over the edge of the bed, slowly soaking the white blanket covering his feet. Audrey understood that the two witches with her were on edge but the two of them would break if they kept at it.

Molly wiped her face before stuffing the linen handkerchief back up her sleeve. “Tea and a shower would be nice. Yes, I think I will.” Molly picked up her purse and slung it up onto her shoulder. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it, shaking her head in grief.

Audrey went behind Molly, closing the door yet leaving a crack. “Hermione, you’ll call us if anything changes? I will be back in five minutes.”

She ignored them when they left the room.

Hermione moved to the side of his bed, taking his left hand and rubbing her fingers over the hand-carved goblin silver band that he never took off. “Please, come back to me.” Hermione knelt down at the side of his bed, holding his hand. “I can’t lose you.” She kissed it gently before taking his hand and placing it on her face.

“Ron, I’m going to be late!” Hermione tried to throw Ron’s arm off of her but he held her tight, snuggling closer under the covers.

“Ten more minutes. I just got here.” His face was muffled in her hair but she learned to understand him with a mouthful of her hair in his face.

“It’s been two hours, Ron. I have to get up.”

“Call in, Hermione. I’ve not seen you in a week.”

“And I’m in the middle of a project for work.” She slid out from under his arm to the edge of the bed. “I’m due to present it Friday morning. I’ll take off after and spend the next few days at home with you. I’ll take off three days for you.”

He groaned. “Don’t bother. I’m being sent out Wednesday on a mission and don’t know when I will return.” Ron pulled the pillow over his head. “I get it. Isalright,” he mumbled before drifting off to sleep, missing her stricken expression and a tear falling down her face.

Hermione collapsed on top of him, completely satiated. It had been a week since they’d done this and her heavy breathing betrayed how much she did need him that way.

An enormous hand worked its way down her spine, resting low on her hips. “Do you have any idea how much I needed that shag?”

“Probably more than I did,” she replied back, trying to gather her wits about her from such an energetic session and failing miserably.” Hermione looked up at the blue eyes she loved and saw mirth dancing over his face. “Then again, I did miss your hands on me.” She blushed and turned away from his face. “They are amazing hands, so talented.”

She lifted her head and saw his other hand pulling the hair away from her face and threading it behind her ear. “Oh so you liked that earlier when I - “

She looked away. “That was different, absolutely.”

His eyes creased. “You, you didn’t like that? But I saw you reading in that book and – “

“That? And you read it too?”

“Well, yeah. I even made note of the bookmarked page so I could read that. Last Mission was bloody boring when I wasn’t on surveillance. So I thought I’d pluck up a copy and see what was so fascinating to you. Once I read that, I said why not try it and see?”

Hermione blushed hard. “It wasn’t like that, Ron.”

“It wasn’t?” His voice cracked and blanched.

“No,” she dropped her eyes to his chest and toyed with the smattering of gold hairs cresting his chest. “I was reading up on it because of something Gi – “

“Please don’t mention anyone in my family right now,” He groaned. The pillow exploded under his head, compressing down. “It’s not that I don’t know you compare notes with the others but damn, that’s barmy.”

“Anyway, someone we both know mentioned something interesting happened and it got me curious so I found that book at the local library and was reading up on it while you were away the last time. I found it academically interesting, not necessarily something I did want to try. I thought about it and discarded the idea. I didn’t realize that it might be something that would interest you.”

“So I nicked that book and read that rubbish, thinking that was something you wanted to try and it wasn’t?” He tossed his head back into the pillow, groaning from what happened. “And it was your curiosity to get you to read it? Merlin, I’m such a tosser.”

“Ron, it’s fine. It surprised me. That’s all.”

Ron lifted her arm off of his body to sit on the edge of the bed, shaking his head. “No, it’s not. I should have asked instead of trying to surprise you with something like that.” He looked at her, sitting on the edge of the bed with him. “I know you aren’t fond of surprises or anything you don’t bring up first.” He got up and went to the loo. Moments later, the shower turned on, leaving Hermione boggled at what just happened.

“Oh good, you’re still here.” Ron popped his head into her workspace known as an office. Books and parchment were stacked everywhere. “Want to pop over to the Leaky for a bite before I go on shift?”

“I’d love to but I have to finish this report tonight. We busted an elf smuggling ring and brought in a dozen elves that had been trafficked in from Belgium. My report to Cutcliffe is due in the morning.”

“Oh.” Ron’s face fell.

“But I can bring dinner by for you once I finish with this. It won’t be but an hour or so.”

“No, it’s fine.” He sighed. “Jones has us out for a training session tonight. I dunno when I’d return so don’t wait on me in the morning.” Ron disappeared before Hermione could move her chair back from the desk. By the time she got to her door, knocking over half a dozen sheets of parchment Ron was already in the lift at the end of the hallway, looking forlorn before the doors closed with a thud.

“Ron?”

“Hmmm.”

“We’ve been invited over to my parents for brunch today.”

“Hmmm.”

“Would you come with me? I don’t think I can handle Mum right now. She’s on a tear and I dunno if I can cope with her criticism today, not after the week I had. At least with you there, you know when it’s time to fake an emergency and we have to go.”

Ron put down the morning edition of the Daily Prophet, scanning the Saturday Quidditch scores. “Sorry, Hermione but I can’t.” He picked the paper back up and continued to read.

“Why? You actually love my Mum’s cooking. Dad enjoys spending time with you, too.”

“I promised George I’d be at the shop at 10 to work today so he could take the day off. He’s not had a day off in three weeks.”

“Ron,” she whigned. “An hour then?”

“I can’t, Hermione. I wish you’d have asked me Thursday. I could have told George no or made other arrangements with him.”

“I didn’t find out until Thursday evening. It slipped my mind until this morning.”

“Sorry, love, but I promised.”

Ron got up from the couch, pointed his wand at the wireless to turn off the Quidditch recap. He folded the paper back up the way she liked and put it on the coffee table. “Maybe next time, perhaps?” She was left standing in the living room, wondering where she went wrong.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Harry kept writing, trying to finish his thought for the report due in an hour.

“Harry, when is he coming back?”

Harry kept his eyes on his parchment, writing while also considering what Hermione asked. “I dunno, Hermione. He was called into Robard’s office along with Williamson and they were in there a while. When they did come out, Ron went home, was gone maybe ten minutes tops before returning with his Ruck. They left this morning and I’ve not heard a thing since.” He kept writing, hoping to finish with -

“It’s not like him to not tell me when he’s sent off on a mission.”

Harry finally looked up, tossed his quill down on the desk and pushed his chair back. “These things happen from time to time.”

“But he always tells me when he’s sent off. He knows I go mental if he leaves without saying something.”

“I dunno what I can tell you, Hermione. I don’t even know what he was sent off for. It’s not like they run every mission by me, you know? I’m only a junior Auror myself. I have no control over who is sent off on a mission, much less knowing everything happening outside of this department.”

“Yes, I know,” she huffed. “I wish he’d at least have sent me a memo.”

“Maybe there was no time? They did leave in a hurry from the portkey office.”

“Maybe,” she looked over at his desk, seeing how organized it was and tidy, too. “It looks like he won’t be back for a while, the way his desk looks.”

He saw Robards starting out from his office. He was on a short leash today it seems. “I dunno, Hermione. Sometimes we plan on being gone a month and its two days. Sometimes it’s 2 days and turns into weeks. We just don’t know until we get into the situation. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

She sighed again. “Dinner then, after work?”

Harry grimaced. “Sorry but Ginny is back from Berlin and I promised her a fancy dinner date in Soho. Who thought being a professional Quidditch player would change your tastes in food?”

“Oh, ok. Well, have a good time tonight.” She picked up her briefcase and walked out of the department while trying to hide the tears that were falling down her face.

Hermione jumped into Ron’s arms, peppering his face with a plethora of kisses. “You were gone so long,” she cried into his neck. “You never sent word while you were away.” She burrowed into his neck absorbing the sweat, stink, smoke and just how Ron naturally smelled.

Ron lowered her to the ground and buried his nose in her hair. The weight of the cocked up mission fell off of his shoulders. “I couldn’t. Robards forbid us from making any contact with anyone who wasn’t an Auror, and even then, only him or Jones. I couldn’t even tell Harry about it.”

Hermione pulled back from his jumper and looked at him with concern. “Ron, you smell of fire and of blood. What happened? Are you hurt? Is Harry hurt?”

“I… I can’t talk about it.”

“But I’m your – “

“Mission orders, from Kingsley himself.” He slumped slightly. “Merlin knows I want to tell you. God knows I do. But I can’t talk about it. I just can’t.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah, it was.” Ron threw his cloak and jacket off. “And I need a shower. It’s been too long without one.” He pulled the jumper off and grimaced.

“You’re hurt.” She looked up at him, studying his face.

“Yeah, I am. But I’ve been checked out by a healer and I have a few days off. It’s nothing a few days of rest won’t help.”

“Well, let’s tend you in the shower and see how badly you’re hurt.” She reached her hands to the vest on his body and he caught her hands, holding them like you’d hold a baby kneazle. “As much as I’d love a leg over tonight in the shower, I’m completely knackered. So if you want to scrub my back and let me sleep the next sixteen hours, I’ll make it up to you in the morning.”

Hermione bit her tongue to keep from screaming. But if that’s what Ron needed, she’d do that for him, even if it meant missing him for another week.

She couldn’t bear to tell him that she was leaving in the morning for a conference in Florence and would be gone until Friday evening.

Audrey held two cups of tea, one fresh and one tepid. The day old scones, freshened up slightly for crème tea were her second favourite for breakfast but in this case, anything is better than nothing. She bumped the door with her hip to quietly slip into the room and froze for a moment, thinking that everything went to hell. Hermione was laying her head under his hand, crying. “I can’t lose you. I need you. We need you. You have to come back to me, to us.”

#Dragon's Fic #hpfic #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #harry j potter #Molly Weasley #arthur weasley #percy weasley #Audrey Reeves #OCs #Rated T for Tumblr #Ao3 has the unedited version #This goes way beyond bickering and nit picking #tw: domestic rowing #Queue Up for the Dragon

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forzalando · 6 years ago

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Keeping It Professional - Remus Lupin | Part Three

hello friends :) I am super excited about where this fic is going! please enjoy part three :)

Y/N: Your Name Word Count: 1138 Warnings: language!!!

permanent tag list: @thoseofgreatambition @thephelpstwins @hermione-who @siriusoricns @yourslytherinprincess @moonlitdiggory @wutheringweasley @weaslcywheezes @starlitfawkes @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy @fcavalerro @sskidizzle

KIP tag list: @chlxv @acciorinn @ihatenewusernames @the-apple-princess @peachyypotter @madformoony @emi-loser @kazzish @coolepowersthings @whompingwillowy @magicalydelicious @thomas-queen-hiddleston @dedellia @blackloveangel13

Remus tag list: @weasley--girl

(if your name has a strikethrough, I wasn’t able to tag you! let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list!)

Part 1, Part 2

“Lily,” you cried out, stumbling a bit over your feet as you searched for your best friend, “you have got to try this drink I made. It’s fantastic.”

After Sirius had left you alone feeling confused and pissed off, you downed the drink he had handed you and walked straight to the makeshift kitchen bar to pour yourself another.

“Y/N, what the hell?” Sirius asked as he successfully steadied your stance before you toppled to the floor. “I leave you alone for a half hour and you go and drink half the liquor cabinet. How many drinks did you have??”

You turned around and smiled while holding up three fingers, which caused Sirius to bust out laughing.

“Oh, good, so you didn’t drink an entire bottle, you’re just a lightweight. That makes this a little better. Are you alright? After your spat with Remus?”

“I don’t want to think about Remus,” you mumbled. “He hates me and I have a crush on him the size of Jupiter, but it’s fine, I’m fine.”

“Y/N, love, he doesn’t hate you, I swear,” Sirius said as he placed a comforting hand on your cheek.

“I don’t care; I want to forget about him. Let’s dance,” you shouted as you grabbed Sirius’s hand and led him into the living room.

You slipped one hand around his neck and had the other clutching your drink, occasionally taking sips and offering some to Sirius.

After countless songs and a few more drinks, you and Sirius were dancing wildly, along with everyone else at the party. More people had eventually arrived, and it finally looked like the rowdy college parties that you and Lily were used to.

You could hear Sirius laughing in your ear as you danced with him; his hands on your hips guiding them to the beat of the music while your arms were clasped around his neck. Your eyes wandered around the room and eventually landed on Remus standing off in a corner.

He was watching the two of you; you and Sirius, and although his stance was rigid and sober, his eyes held sadness and longing.

Remus’s gaze made your stomach do flips and your mind lose focus on everything around you except him. Your movements stalled and you quickly left Sirius alone to escape Remus’s eyes.

You found refuge on the back patio yet the breezy night air did little to calm down the redness of your cheeks or the bubbling feeling in your tummy. You slumped to the ground and placed your head between your knees, willing the nauseous feeling taking over your body to go away.

Suddenly, you heard the door open behind you. Expecting it to be Lily, you began to drunkenly ramble on about your night.

“Well, Lily, while you were off making googly eyes at chemistry boy, I was, once again, being treated like shit by psychology hottie. I’ve never known an adult man to act so childish, especially when I have done nothing wrong and I…and I…I think I’m going to throw up.”

You leant forward and felt the familiar lurching feeling in your abdomen while one hand gathered your hair into a ponytail and the other rubbed soothing circles on your back.

After emptying the contents of your stomach onto the grass in front of you, the comforting hands lifted your body off the ground and carried you bridal style into the house. Your eyes remained closed; the energy it would take to open them at that moment wasn’t worth it.

“When did you get so strong, Lils,” you slurred. “We work out together, how come I’m not reaping these same benefits? ‘ts fucking bullshit.”

Your savior chuckled, the warm vibrations lulling you into a trance like state as you ascended a staircase.

“I wish I didn’t have a crush on Remus,” you whispered. “He totally hates me. Probably thinks I’m too young and immature while he’s the one acting like a child. Men suck. Except chemistry boy, he really likes you. And Sirius. He’s fun. I wish I liked him instead.”

You felt the softness of blankets and pillows as the pair of arms gently laid you down. You curled up into the fetal position and sighed; breathing in a familiar and calming woodsy scent that you just couldn’t place.

“Goodnight, Lils,” you whispered as sleep began to overtake you.

Once your breathing slowed and soft snores escaped you, your savior gazed longingly upon your peaceful form before slowly closing the bedroom door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Remus whispered.

He had barely taken three steps down the hallway when a drunken Sirius stepped in front of him.

“You,” Sirius snarled as he poked Remus’s chest, “are the dumbest person I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Remus huffed as he tried to walk away.

“No, no, you’re going to listen. Stop fucking walking, and pay attention. That girl, is a sweet girl. She doesn’t deserve how you’re treating her because of some brilliantly fucked up solution you’ve concocted in your head.”

“You don’t get it, Sirius, I could lose my job. I could lose my scholarship, which would jeopardize my degree. You don’t get it.”

“What I get is that you’re treating her like she’s nothing.”

“I just held back her hair while she vomited and tucked her into bed, Sirius, she’s not nothing.”

“Oh, right, so helping her while she’s drunk, and thinks you’re someone else, just lets you off the hook, is that it? You know she thinks you hate her?”

“Yes, she might have mentioned that while I was carrying her upstairs,” Remus sighed sadly.

“Look, I’m not asking you to risk your job, your scholarship, or your degree, I’m demanding you start being nice to her or I swear you’ll regret it.”

“Why do you care so much?” Remus asked cautiously while eyeing his friend.

“I don’t want to see my best friend act like a royal dickhead and hurt an innocent girl because he can’t control his feelings, you absolute moron.”

Remus shoved his hands in his pockets and looked sheepishly at the floor. In his desire to keep you at arm’s length, he had gone too far and hurt you, which was the last thing he would ever want to do.

“She likes you, you know,” Sirius said matter-of-factly.

“I know she does. She mentioned that too.”

“So, why don’t you just tell her? I’m sure she would understand your situation.”

“It’s more than just the ‘situation’, Sirius, I’m not good for her. She deserves better.”

“I think that’s up to her,” Sirius retorted.

Sirius shook his head and sighed before walking past Remus to enter his own bedroom. Remus descended the staircase in order to spend his night on the couch, while you slept soundly, and unknowingly, in his bed.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #marauders x reader #remus lupin au #remus lupin fic #marauders fluff #marauders angst #marauders fic #marauders au

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anxiety-trademark · 4 years ago

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The week in review:

Raw 10/05 NXT 10/07 NXT UK 10/08 Smackdown 10/09 + Main Event 10/08

Raw:

“This Asuka reign has been spectacular thus far,” d e b a t a b l e

Is Asuka continuing her feud with Zelina? If so, why? If not, why is this 6 woman match happening? Just spinning your wheels some more?

It’s been an interesting experience watching Dana grow throughout the years. Also nice flip by Nattie off of Dana’s headscissors takedown.

Love to see Dana and Mandy matching colors. Tag teams matching gear is my jam. Next is a theme song/name.

Lovely delayed double suplex by Dandy.

Small mistake in Mandy nearly falling over, but I mostly want to compliment the slide her boots did against the mat lmao. That was probably unintended, but looked super smooth.

I actually like Mandy now that she’s not imitating a stripper, but I’d really appreciate it if she could learn new trash talk that isn’t just, “who do you think you are,” repeated ad nauseam.

I don’t watch Main Event, but they should consider having Mandy and Dana wrestle more on there if they don’t already. Those are 2 that can use the consistent practice.

There’s so many minor things Natalya does to keep matches together with greener women. She deserves more respect.

Man these women work incredibly well together. Asuka, Nattie, Dana, Lana, Mandy... so cohesive. Loved that entire ending sequence from the moment Lana and Asuka tagged in. Lana has really increased her speed as well.

I am here to dole out positive praise for the blondes that nobody gives any credit to. Remembering where Dana was in 2016, Lana was in 2017, or even Mandy was in 2018, and seeing them all now? They get my applause. The midcard on Raw is entertaining, sue me. Fun match.

pppfffftttttt love how Zelina just slowly slinks outta the ring like, “yeahhhh have fun with that, this ain’t my fight peace.”

Alright ngl, I am now starting to get sad that Lana is getting rekt nearly every week. rip. First match of the night btw and the commentators are losing their desk lmao.

Does KO have to spell out everything happening in wrestling? Sir I actually pay attention to the stories y’all be telling me. Can I get a condensed version?

“He’s everywhere,” Alexa is creepy and compelling, I’m gonna keep singing her praises til she gives me a reason not to.

I personally just hope Fiend uses new gloves for every new victim, what with covid and all.

“Bury a body together in the woods,” SIR.

I like that Alexa is kept separate from Bray and is solely attached to Fiend. I know that’s going to change, but for now, I like that line being drawn in the sand.

Omg he shed tears. Whew.

Why y’all allergic to showcasing Bianca against people who I fucking recognize lmao.

Again, I know she’s a college graduate. I know she’s smart on some fucking level. Telling me why the sky is blue (cept not really as it just appears that way) AIN’T IT THOUGH.

Put her in a match, that’s where she needs the most work. Jesus.

Oh good we get to hear Nia’s music on the way to the ring. She has the superior theme.

Nia body checking Ruby in the corner. I felt that.

I like Shayna’s joint manipulation, I only wish she’d wear down her opponents before she started in on it, cuz it drastically slows down the pacing of the match. There’s a spot for it if you get the momentum of the match going first, but she almost always just jumps straight into this.

Ruby getting rekt. What Riott Squad need is a good showing. Not to be damn near demolished. I doubt anyone actually expected them to win this match, but come on.

At least Shayna sold the tornado ddt well.

Meh could’ve been a better showing for RS. Kind of disappointing. Liv didn’t even use any offense to break the Kirifuda Clutch, just yelled dramatically af. Tears galore.

Highlight: Seeing Lana/Mandy/Dana improve & work cohesively with veterans in Nattie & Asuka

---

NXT:

Isn’t nxt supposed to be the brand that hides a performer’s weakness? Why does Ember Moon have a mic in the middle of the ring? Have her do a quick interview in the back, or better yet wrestle. Hello??

Don’t thank them, they are your coworkers, and only one of them even said welcome back. sigh.

GIRL I’M SHOCKED THEY LET YOU TALK ON THE MIC TOO like for what reason???

This is why Ember Moon will never be a champion on the main roster jfc. At least she can get away with being nxt champ if she refrains from speaking.

Well damn I was actually interested in Rhea’s promo, thanks a lot Raquel smh.

Io’s like “...nah, I’m good right here.”

Io is a woman of few words, but they are always flawlessly spoken and drenched in logic. Still a huge fan of her as champion.

Storytime. Becky Lynch has named 2 people as potential break out stars that could reach (close to) the heights she has reached. Sonya Deville was one, whom I believe Becky was right on the money with, and Toni Storm was the other. Now I don’t see whatever the hell Becky sees in Toni, but damn it if she was right about Sonya, I want her to be right about Toni as well. So I hope this heel turn actually brings the fire, decent acting, and passable promos from her.

Toni has a swagger you can’t teach; she has an aura and confidence to her. There are just some pieces that have been missing. We’ll see though, I’ll give her a clean slate to win me over.

*The Garganos receive a gift* No.

I kind of like that there’s an unspoken agreement between Raquel and Dakota that Dakota is the star who should win the title, with no lingering feelings of animosity or resentment between them.

Anyway Dakota you lost to Io, plz lol.

*The Garganos see potential in Indi Hartwell* No.

I hate Shotzi’s entrance and dialogue so damn much lmao. She’s so annoying, I’m not sorry. I’ll give her props in the ring where I see fit, but her personality is such a turn off to me.

Such a short match that I have nothing to say about it. Good for Shotzi gaining some momentum. Still waiting to see where Xia Li goes with these losses amounting.

Cool one of the best themes has been changed :/ rip Ember’s og theme.

Sloppy, sloppy attempt at a standing crucifix by Ember. oof.

Ember is short but she can sure jump high, this is true.

Ember plz sell.

Jeeze I nearly forgot how good Ember’s suicide dive is. One of the best, truly.

Great bump onto the floor by Rhea.

Flat landing by Dakota. Bravo. Love how Dakota bumps Rhea’s bench press.

No excuse for Dakota not tagging in when Ember got the tag. Awkward.

Looked more like a modified flatliner rather than a uranage, but sure.

Love watching Dakota and Rhea work together. They have great chemistry.

LOVE Dakota’s Kairopractor. One of my favorite moves in nxt.

Great save by Raquel, great ddt taken by Raquel.

Sloppy “powerbomb” from Ember to Dakota... that’s a yikes. Ember indeed has ring rust. Eclipse is still a thing of beauty though, so there’s that.

I just want to say, I really like Rhea as a babyface and I hope wwe doesn’t turn her heel when she moves to the MR.

Highlight: Dakota & Rhea working together is always a treat

---

NXT UK:

Tell me why the beginning of Dani’s theme reminded me of White Wedding by Billy Joel? The lack of lighting in her entrance does her song a disservice.

Really like Nina’s theme... irritating how they cut off Amale’s theme so quickly to introduce her, though.

HAHA Xia tried kipping up out of the leg scissors and she got popped on the midsection.

Lovely escape...? Alright well, fill the dead air with meaningless comments I guess. No, don’t pipe in applause for that.

Twisting her arms in reverse and then forward accomplished nothing.

I appreciate Dani’s underrated strength.

Decent reverse suplex by Nina.

Deadweight suplex by Dani. Nice.

Amale is... abysmally green.

Took a beautiful German suplex, though.

Do not like Xia’s finisher.

This match wasn’t a mistake, but man talk about lower card.

Much like I did with Toni Storm, all I see when I look at Piper now, is when she cried during the match with KLR lmao. Round of applause for KLR making all of her opponents cry kekekek.

“[KLR] better watch what she says, or else..” or else what? More of y’all gonna cry in her direction? oof your champ is HEAD AND SHOULDERS above everyone else on that roster, plz.

Sure she’s held the title for a year cuz of the pandemic, but if we remove all of that time UK spent isolated, she should still hold that title for a year minimum. Whenever someone wants to exhibit possessing the full package she has, they can step up. Even on the mic, KLR is untouchable.

Lol y’all can waltz out pissy all you want. I laugh.

“We've got witches that can't cast spells, Valkyries that can't fly, and these two can't even get along long enough to challenge me. And here she is, the worst of them all, the ultimate letdown... a piper that plays to my tune.” LMFAOOO. This is such a good promo, I can’t.

Knowing NXT, they’ll throw them in a battle royal to decide Kay Lee’s next opponent. Should run a tournament though.

KLR makes that title prestigious, goodbye.

Highlight: Fantastic KLR promo

---

Smackdown:

Alright real talk, why did Sasha get a title shot here? Why would Bayley give it to her without a struggle when she damn well knows Sasha could easily be the one to take it from her? When was it even accepted by Bayley?

Tbh I kind of hate this feud unless they’re in the same room/arena together. They work magic together, truly, but all of the inbetween stuff was garbage.

Love how Sasha just wants to beat the crap out of Bayley. Solid stuff.

Lol Bayley goes to leave lololol.

These are some clean counters and roll throughs. Always give props to Sasha for her counters.

See, cool, Sasha and Becky’s hiac match was set up with a chair, too... cept they had a great match for 15 mins and then brawled all over the arena. This could’ve all been set up SO much better. Then again tbf, it doesn’t even make sense for Bayley to accept this match with her to begin with, so I get the intentional dq as quickly as possibly on Bayley’s behalf. Would’ve been better if a gm had set this match up instead.

Great acting by Sasha.

How long til KO just pops Bliss across the face? No I’m kidding, wwe would never do that. Setting fire to someone, on the other hand...

Nothing about this promo felt genuine to me; the delivery was subpar.

When does Alexa receive an upgrade from ‘supportive mistress’ to ‘queen that helps fuck up Fiend’s victims’? I do appreciate them taking their time with her arc, it’s rare to see them do such a slow burn and not drop the ball with it.

Highlight: Sasha’s aggression in the ring

---

*BONUS*

Main Event:

The sheer hatred I have for Peyton’s theme. Awful.

Peyton vs Billie matches reminds me of the type of stuff I used to skip back in the late 2000s.

You watch best friends Sasha/Bayley, and you see some innovative, impactful moves. You watch best friends Becky/Charlotte, and you see 2 people beating the absolute shit out of each other with vitriol. You watch best friends Billie/Peyton, and you see 2 people who are afraid of hurting one another :/

Nice roll through pin by Billie.

Positive: there’s no crowd to boo them.

Just noticed the bottom row of monitors are behind the barricade, and I just want to know why tf they exist lmao.

Oh perfect, the second I began to regret turning this on, it ended. Okay anyway.

---

*NXT shined the brightest. Love how they utilized their women’s division, even if some of it was a hit or miss. Also love seeing Dakota and Rhea work together.

#wwe #issa review #feel free to ignore these #cuz who tf cares lesbihonest #today's props goes to:#dakota kai

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 7 years ago

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Until you’re resting here with me (Love Actually AU) - Part 1

I’m incapable of keeping anything on my hard drive without posting...Hopefully I will have it all posted before Christmas :)

He couldn’t believe he was back here. It had been just over ten years, years where he’d been able to push it from his mind and now he was back, partly, no mostly against his will. He had a vague memory of some annoying kid from his brother’s wedding but nothing more than that. It had to be some kind of cosmic joke that he’s ended up getting engaged to Robert’s best friend and the party was being held back in Emmerdale. From what he could see as he pulled the car to a stop, nothing had changed.

He’d changed though. Back then he was a mechanic, sleeping with his brother’s fiance, not much else going for him. Now, he was reasonably successful, even if selling agricultural machinery wasn’t the most glamorous job in the world it paid the bills...and he was in love with his best friend’s fiance. Ok, so maybe not everything had changed.

He wasn’t going to do anything about it, he had grown up that much. If it was anyone else, he might have, but he wouldn’t do that to Luke. He’d been there for him for years. He’d met him not long after he left the village, letting him kip on his sofa for a while until he got himself sorted. He owed him everything, which is really the only reason he was here. If it had been anyone else he would have made an excuse, got out of it somehow but not Luke. Taking a deep breath he gets out of the car, convinces himself it’ll be fine, and heads inside.

The first thing he notices is that the pub has changed. He’d heard of course about the siege a few years before, he’d even called his sister to check on everyone. He wasn’t that heartless. He sees her first, heading through the back, arms full of food platters. She’s grown up, of course, reminds him so much of their Mum. He misses her. They’ve been closer since that phone call, chatting every couple of weeks, texting a lot even if this was the first time they’d seen each other in person for years.

“Alright mate, you made it!” He cringes slightly, had wanted to see the lie of the land before drawing any kind of attention to himself. Then again that’s just impossible with Luke, he’s loud and annoying especially when you don’t want him to be. “Wasn’t sure you’d turn up.”

“Anyone but you, and I wouldn’t, you know that. So, where’s Aaron?”

“He’s here somewhere, hijacked by his family. Listen, about that, would you, in your position as my almost definitely best man, do me a favour?”

“Almost definitely? Well that’s a compliment and a half.”

“Yeah, yeah. There’s probably gonna be speeches and one of Aaron’s lot is meant to be filming it but they’ve been at the bar since it opened so could you, you know be a backup? You know, posterity and that?” Robert can’t help laughing, can only guess how many drinks he’s already had, but he nods, patting him on the back as he spies Vic making her way back into the bar.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get it all. I’m, er, gonna go talk to Vic.” She’s already seen him, is heading over to him at speed.

It feels good hugging her, he’s missed her. Whatever reasons there were for leaving he’s always regretted leaving her. There’s no peace for a proper chat and he has to promise her that he’ll hang around the following day for it before she’ll let him go. He’s booked into the B&B anyway, against his better judgement, and he promises her breakfast at least. After that he’ll see.

The party is fun, considering, and he watches as Luke and Aaron make their way round the pub, all smiles. He’s not used to seeing Aaron like this, dressed in a smart blue suit, shirt collar open, and he’s having a hard time taking his eyes off him. He has to keep forcing himself to tear his gaze away in case anyone notices. In the end he busies himself filming and taking photos on his phone trying to do as he’d been asked and capture the evening.

He finds himself watching Aaron again, he’s all smiles, laughing and joking with his family and their obvious good natured teasing. He’s not normally like that. There’s more likely to be a frown than a smile. He can’t really pinpoint when he knew he was attracted to him. Luke had introduced them on a night out and for a reason he can’t remember Aaron was in a mood. The first impression hadn’t been great but even then there had been an attraction.

“They seem happy. Aaron’s been smiling a lot more when he’s come back to visit.” He jumps as Vic sits beside him and the phone has to refocus itself.

“You know him?” He knew Aaron’s family lived here but he himself lived in Leeds, it hadn’t occurred to him that his sister would know him well.

“Yeah, we were good mates until he moved to Leeds, still are I suppose. I hear from him more than you anyway!”

“Alright, I know I’m a terrible brother, no need to rub it in.” She’s joking he knows, at least partly. He could be better of course. She was forever asking him to come back, telling him that Leeds wasn’t far, disappointed to know he had been that close all those years and hadn’t been in touch. He had a lot to make up for, still.

He glances back at the screen of his phone, still videoing. He can tell she’s looking, can see what he’s recording but he can’t make himself stop. He hates himself for it, it’s his best friend for God’s sake but he just can’t help how he feels. “Which one?”

“Hmm?”

“Which one of them is it that you like? I’m not stupid, Robert. You haven’t taken your eyes off them.” She knows he’s bisexual, had for a year or so, had seen a picture on his facebook that he’d been tagged in, kissing some guy from way back and asked him outright. Vic had never been one for subtlety after all. He was glad she knew though, it felt good, even if she did still stick her nose in a bit too much for his tastes.

“What? No! Luke asked me to video the speeches and that.”

“Hmm, well they’re all done and dusted and you’re still filming. So come on...I’m going with Aaron because you’ve known Luke long enough that you’d be over it by now or at least done something about it.” He just shook his head in disbelief. “Robert! What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m doing nothing, alright. So just forget about it.” He looks at her until she nods. “They look happy, don’t they?”

He’d hoped maybe stupidly, that seeing them together again so happy, he’d start to feel less, that somehow his brain would compute that there was no chance for them. If anything it was the opposite, the more he saw him the stronger it was and he had no idea what to do.

*****

“How long?”

“How long what?” He stops, piece of cake halfway to his mouth. Breakfast had ended up being lunch and now they were in the cafe and he’d barely even sat down before she started in on him. He’d hardly slept, too busy thinking about Aaron, wondering what to do.

“You know what. How long have you liked Aaron?” He can’t help the nervous glance around, checking no one is within earshot before he answers her.

“Will you keep your voice down? It’s nothing to do with you.”

“Got a queue of people you can talk to then have you?” He sighs, she’s got this thing about him only having the one really close friend. It doesn’t bother him, if anything he prefers it that way. “You know nothing’s going to happen don’t you?”

“Expert now huh?”

“Aaron’s my mate, like I said, so yes...I am. I don’t want to see you get hurt Rob, or him.”

“I told you, I’m not going to do anything. It’s a stupid...crush if you like, I’ll get over it. I just need to keep my distance until I do.” It’s all he’d thought about, laying awake all night. If he just stayed out of their way, avoided their usual weekly drink then surely this ‘thing’ would fizzle out. The downside to all that was his friendship with Luke might end up damaged by the time he was over it. Then again it’d be destroyed if he did anything else. “Let’s change the subject, yeah?”

*****

He doesn’t see either of them for a few weeks, he’s busy at work and trying to avoid them, the guilt of how he’s feeling beginning to overwhelm him. Then they’re off on holiday, a pre-wedding honeymoon of all things because they want to stay at home for Christmas. It gives him some space, time to think, even if he doesn’t come to any kind of conclusion. He needs to work something out or he’ll lose the best friend he’s probably ever had.

They’re away for two weeks and the pictures on Instagram keep him more updated than he really wants but he can’t bring himself to stop checking, replaying every video of Aaron willing himself to not feel like this anymore, but nothing works. He shoves it to the back of his mind as best he can until his phone rings at work one day.

“Rob, it’s me.”

“You’re back then?” He leans back in his chair, keeping an eye out to make sure his boss was nowhere in sight. The man had been on the warpath recently and Robert wasn’t about the get on the wrong side of him, not even for his friend. “How was the pre-wedding honeymoon thing?”

“Brilliant. Listen, we wanted to have you over for dinner next week, to say thanks. You free Saturday?” He sighed internally, that was the last thing he wanted, spending the whole evening with Aaron, at least not until he got over whatever this was. Not that he’s going to say no, he never has so far, isn’t going to start now, knows it’ll look suspicious.

“Yeah, should be. Haven’t you got better things to be doing than inviting your sad single friend round?” Please say you have, he thought over and over. He didn’t know how he’d get through it.

“Nah, not really.” Comes the teasing reply. “Listen I’ve got Aaron on the other line, he wants to talk to you. Be nice, yeah?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just be less you, yeah?”

“I’m hurt! Go on, I’ve got a couple of minutes before getting back to the exciting world of tractors.” He doodles absently on the diary in front of him while he waits, the two of them obviously having a conversation.

“Robert?”

“Finally. What’s up?” He can’t help sounding fed up, he’s trying so hard to get over himself and having to see and hear from Aaron isn’t helping in the slightest.

“I, er, I’ve got to go and buy my suit, for the wedding. Well, I’m not one for suits and none of my mates are either. Luke suggested I ask you. You might be a big headed prat but even I can tell you’ve got some taste.” He’s panicking because he can think of nothing worse, spending the whole day with Aaron should be a dream come true but not like this, not buying his wedding suit.

“I’m pretty busy, work, you know...is there no one else?”

“If there was do you think I’d be asking you?” He sounds so put out that Robert wants to laugh. “Look, will you help me out or not?” Well he had no choice really did he? It’d look suspicious if he didn’t.

“Fine. It’ll have to be Friday though, only day I’m free.” That gave him three days to think of a way to get out of it because there was no way this wasn’t ending in disaster.

“Don’t sound too enthusiastic will ya. Friday then. I’ll pick you up at your place at 10.”

He agrees and Aaron’s hung up within seconds, leaving Robert just staring at the phone, pretty much regretting getting out of bed.

#robron fanfic #love actually au #indulge me it's christmas

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pendragonfics · 7 years ago

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Hotter Than Hell

Keep Holding On: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Paring: Newt/Reader

Tags: female reader, set in The Scorch Trials, angst, canon compliant.

Summary: Reader loves Newt possibly more than anything else. And so does he.

Out in the scorch, there's nothing worse...

Word Count: 776

Posting Date: 2016-06-07

Current Date: 2017-08-29

You used to think that those rare sunny days in the Glade when it got to that stinking hot humid way where the boys had to peel of their shirts to work comfortably and you sitting in the shade watching Newt work was hot.

You were so completely and utterly wrong.

Hot was your tongue, thick and dry in your mouth.

Hot was going to sleep with your mouth closed and the skin on your lips fusing together.

Hot was the intense sun, beating down on your back, heating you up like a pot of Frypan's special soup, eating you from the outside in.

All the time, you were looking to Newt in hope that he had an inkling for what the group was supposed to do, go, be - now they'd all escaped, you couldn't shake the feeling of what was happening to you all. Zart, turned into that monster they called Cranks. Everyone falling like flies where they walked from exhaustion.

"You're still awake, _________, aren't you?" You heard Newt whisper to you. It was day, and after Thomas' good idea for walking in the night, everyone was taking a kip. Well, except for you and Newt.

"I can't sleep in this heat," you whisper back.

He hums in agreement.

Turning, you see his angelic face, watching you. "I can't snuggle with you in this heat," you add, "I can't think in it, I can't eat in it. It's like hell, Newt," you shake, thinking to all the horrible things you've seen lately. Gally, Chuck. The man who looked like a rat, Group B, the nightmares that come when you finally do sleep. "What if we're already been killed, and this is hell?"

He shakes his head. "That's absurd, __________, we haven't died. We're survivors, you and I. We'll get out of here." He reaches out to trace patterns on your palm. "I promise."

If it wasn't so humid, you'd be crying hot tears now. But you aren't, and your voice hitches anyway. "How can you?" You whisper.

Newt smiles that kind smile that only he can do. "Trust me."

That night, it falls quicker than any of the other days before. And so do you. It seems tonight, your body is too tired for this. Head over heels, down the dunes, you fall, with the boys chasing after you. You can tell they want you to be left behind. But Newt doesn't allow it.

Minho and he help you walk.

As days pass, they find more water. You grow stronger.

Thomas disappears.

It's so hot.

Hotter than your feet inside socks that feel like they're swimming in sweat.

Hotter than your brain, which boils in your skull.

It's so hot, and you know everyone's feeling like this.

"Leave me here," you tell Newt after a bad collapse. "I'm useless. All my tag said was Group A, 'the air'."

Newt refuses, and Minho gives you a piggyback ride for as long as he can the rest of that night. "We need you, ________. To breathe. Without you, we can't be Gladers. We're just boys and Therese all fighting to stay alive." He pauses, and kisses your brow. "If anything, nobody needs me. I'm just a limping excuse."

You wanted to tell him no, no, Newt, you're not that, you're the one who I love, who everyone looks to. You're not worthless. I am.

But you fall asleep.

In your dreams, it isn't hot. It's...normal. You don't have memories of before the Glade, but you think they are from then. There's a screen door and a little doggy door, and an inflatable pool on the grass in the yard. In the kitchen, making the world's best grilled cheese (you wonder what that is, and how you know this food's name) is Newt, dressed in an apron. He turns to you, and passes the sandwich.

"Where's Lia?" He asks.

You frown. Lia?

A little girl runs from nowhere, and flings herself toward Newt. "Daddy!" She screams. "Sandwich, sandwich!" She chants. She's no older than three.

You can't shake it. This can't be real, it's - by the stove, Newt drops the frying pan on his foot, and you run to it, and grab the pan with your hands. It's hot, hot, hot, so hot, too hot. Hotter than hell.

You don't cry. Newt doesn't either.

"Mummy?" The little girl flickers where she stands, like a candle in a windy room. Or a hologram. "Daddy?" She looks at your hands, his foot, and screams. "Hot! Hot! Hot!"

You wake with a start.

"___________?" You hear Newt whisper. "Nightmare?"

You're not sure. Either one seems to be one.

<< PREVIOUS CHAPTER

#newt tmr #newt tst #newt the maze runner #newt tmr x reader #newt the maze runner x reader #the maze runner #the maze runner x reader #the scorch trials #newt the scorch trials #chaotic--lovely #pendragonfics #Female reader

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fafsernir · 7 years ago

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Rules: List the first lines of your last 15 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors! (*sweats nervously*)

Thanks @plume8now for tagging me, that's so sweet!

I put the ones I most recently added words to, not the ones I last started, although for some it's the same. (Most of the fics are Friends fics, don’t be surprised) Sorry for the No Titles (I warn you now, 9 don’t have titles), but I’m not going to find them now ;) And the untitled are the unpublished, so they might change.

1. No Title #1 (Friends, it’s a highscool!AU (well, more like, “they’re young” AU) that I wrote solely to write about the impact of the divorce of Chandler’s parents on him when he was younger)

The air was thick and humid, as a promise of rain. There were clouds, but still no rain, and it had been going like this since the morning. Students were chatting, laughing, sharing... going on with their lives, mostly.

Chandler was bored, as usual.

2. No Title #2 (Friends, shameless Rachel who’s spying on Chandler & Monica because she needs to know more but they’re still secret)

Rachel grinned evilly as she opened her door enough for her to hear everything that happened in the living-room, and even to peek in the apartment, if needed. It would probably be needed, for her own dying curiosity.

Joey was the most useless gossiper she had ever met.

3. No Title #3 (Friends, just Chandler & Rachel being friends and bonding over their parents’ divorces because he’s the only one who really gets what she’s going through)

The gang – minus Chandler who was working late – was sitting in Monica's apartment, trying to cheer Rachel up. Her mother had introduced her to her new boyfriend – her first since they had heard about her parents splitting up – and the whole thing made her feel really down.

“Is he a bad guy?” Ross asked, trying to understand why Rachel was feeling like this.

“No, he's nice.”

4. No Title #4 (Friends, how nine-year-old Chandler started smoking)

There was always yelling, that hadn't changed, at least. Not much had actually changed. Except that now, Chandler knew. He knew his parents wouldn't be together again. Not that he had really expected them to stop yelling each time they were in the same room, but as long as they hadn't said the words, they seem to retain some of their anger for each other. At least when their son was in the same room. Now, they didn't. They simply started raising their voices every time they saw each other, and Chandler fled more and more rapidly the room.

5. No Title #5 (OCs, Jack (no, not Jack Harkness, but you might find similarities) and Kyle live together with other young people, and they had sex (just Jack and Kyle, not everyone ;D) and now Jack can’t stop thinking about it.)

Jack looked around but soon shook his head with a sigh. He saw nothing that he liked, and settled for staring at his drink. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He liked what he was seeing – when did he not, really? – but he didn't feel like hooking up with a stranger. Being with the group was exhausting, especially because they weren't even all sure of what they were supposed to do or find. They didn't even really have a choice. They had been told to be here, to do that, and they did. Jack didn't like it, most of the time.

6. No Title #6 (OCs, still Jack and Kyle, the moment Kyle realized he was in love with Jack)

Jack cursed as he lost at his phone game for the umpteenth time. He growled, throwing his head back, although Kyle's stomach prevented it from moving much. He stared at Kyle, who was reading a book in silence, and half turned, poking him to have his attention. He barely glanced his way, and kept reading.

“I'm boooored,” Jack sighed.

7. No Title #7 (Friends, just some Monica/Chandler talk with Monica worried that he would cheat on her)

Monica couldn't sleep. Everyone had found out about her and Chandler's relationship and they could finally be out in the open – although she'd probably miss some of that sneaking around period, she was glad it was over. Their first night together, without having to worry about being quiet, or waking up early to go back to the apartment across the hallway.

Perfect, one might thought.

(Spoiler alert: it was not perfect. XD)

8. No Title #8 (Friends, some pre-Mondler (and pre-series) with Chandler worrying and taking care of Monica because Kip is being a huge jerk)

It was already raining when Chandler left his workplace, so he stopped at the Iridium on his way back, in the hope that the rain would stop while he talked to Monica. It was fairly late for Chandler to go home, so the restaurant already had a few customers, and he asked one of the waiters if Monica was around. She walked to him shortly after, glad to take her break with him for once. She didn't have long, but he talked to her a bit and made her laugh, which was more than enough. He loved making people laugh.

9. No Title #9 (Friends, when Ross lives with Joey and Chandler, and Chandler is grumpy because Ross can easily be angry, and he’s exhausted because his relationship with Monica is still secret)

Chandler closed the door harshly, not slamming it, but almost. After Ross had torn the tickets in two, Chandler had tried to continue arguing, just because now he was upset and wouldn't go to the game – not even alone – but Joey had told them that he wouldn't write anything if they kept talking to each other like this, and Ross had kicked Chandler out. He had been kicked out of his own apartment! Ross wasn't paying any rent, Joey rarely was, and he was the one being kicked out?!

He hit the ground with his foot, pouting. This sucked. Living with two roommates sucked.

10. Irrational fear (Friends, Chandler dealing with his fear of dogs)

Chandler doesn't like walking in crowded places that much. Actually, he doesn't really enjoy walking outside. It's not that he wants to stay inside all the time, but being outside always puts him in an awkward position. Particularly when he walks past a dog. His heart fastens in his chest, his stomach doesn't look happy, and his mind wanders to crazy places, with thoughts like “What if that dog suddenly jumps at me?!”

11. Orlesian Fries (Dragon Age: Inquisition, just some fun with the Inquisitor dumping 4 of the companions in Val Royeaux and they’re bored)

Cassandra grunted, clearly annoyed – but then again, when was she not? Varric was writing in a notebook, inwardly smiling because he knew that Cassandra wanted to read what he was writing. Dorian was busy looking at stalls, being really judgmental about most of the clothes he saw. Solas just looked really bored. Big cities weren't his strong suit.

None of them really knew what they were doing here, why they all were here, or even where the fuck was the Inquisitor.

12. Right time, right place (Crossover Harry Potter / Friends, with Remus in the US bumping into Chandler)

The man entered the Muggle bar, surprised that it wasn't as crowded as he would have thought. It was probably due to the fact that it was the middle of the week, and still pretty early. Remus scanned the room, trying to guess if there were any wizards. He relaxed a bit when he saw no sign of magic, and ordered a beer. He ignored the few looks people gave him, now having understood that people couldn't instantly guess that he was out of place – by being a wizard, or a werewolf. He just looked like a hobo, for both Muggles and people accustomed to the Magical Word.

13. The Great Lake (One Piece, Hogwarts!AU with Luffy being Luffy, basically)

Law walked fast in the corridors, easily avoiding the other students. One of his books almost fell but he tightened his hold on it and finally walked out the castle, breathing freely. He slowed his pace, even stopping when he saw someone sleeping on the grass. Flashy green hair sticking out of a dark green cap? It could only be Zoro, Luffy's best friend.

14. Rivals (Naruto, some Gai & Kakashi friendship after Sakumo’s suicide)

As Gai turned at another corner, he stopped. He had been following Kakashi for more than half an hour, but his classmate didn't seem to be here anymore. He frowned, looking around, checking other turns, but he found nothing.

“Why are you following me?” a voice said behind him.

15. Wish You Were Here (Torchwood, good ol’ angst after the end of Season 2 with Ianto feeling alone because why not make him suffer even more)

Ianto closed his eyes, letting the surrounding noises fill his mind, hoping it would help him relax. It worked for a few seconds, then he felt exhaustion wash over any relaxing thoughts. He sighed, thinking about how hard work had become. They were only three to handle a job that had already been a bit out of control when there were five of them, and Ianto single handled most of it. Not that the other two were doing nothing, but Jack relied on him for a lot of things, and Gwen still had enough free time to go on dates and have a married life.

Sometimes, Ianto just felt lonely, both in his job and his life.

I already know what my pattern is; it’s starting most of my fics by a character’s name. That’s a strange pattern. But I don’t like description, I just directly dive into the action.

Well, that was... fun and interesting, because I sure thought some were older than others.

Do I even read 10 different authors whose Tumbler username I know? Probably not. So I'm going for the ones I remember and love to read! @panto-x @gmariam321 @trashlord-watson @avaantares @fabricati-diem-punc If you guys feel like it, of course :) (That’s not 10, but leave me alone, I love those 5 :D)

#writing tag #tag meme #honestly of all the tags i thought about #i never thought i'd be tagged with this tumblr #anyway #that was interesting indeed #now i want to write #bye world

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