#and kentucky would just more but sigh horses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beautifulfuckup99 · 1 month

Text

“There are different kinds of soulmates. 12 to be exact." Ms. Whitehurst says while sat with MBG. "When we think of that term, we think so one dimensional. But no matter lover or friend or partner... We are all connected on a spiritual level. And therefore... We can all have a soul mate from the past that will find us one day, again."

Fourth type of soul mate: The Soul Mate

"The Soul Mate: When you think of the term 'Soul Mates', this is the usual type of Soul Mate your brain jumps to. Unconditional love follows these souls through each life. It is always a sudden and strong sexual and romantical attraction that is unexplainable to outsiders looking in. It just feels right to be by their side, and after each last breath comes a promise to meet again. In the next lifetime."

Warning(s): Smut and Fluff!

Author's Note: You want more? Here's more.

**************************************

September 8th, 1950 Kentucky...

"Just count your lucky stars we're sending you..." Your boss says from over the rotary phone placed in front of you at the ticket booth right outside of the Kentucky Derby. You roll your eyes at the backhanded compliment. You were hoping your first writing project for this damn newspaper would be a... Serious one. There were bigger things happening in the world than some damn horse race!

"This man you're talkin to is a real big deal, you know. Won every race he's been in, and now he's tryin his ass at jump racing. You're gonna capture it all on that fancy camera of yours, and write up a nice little article about his win, or a sad one if he loses." Your boss says, as if you didn't know your own objectives for the day. You sigh and reach into your purse for your pack of cigarettes, but get pulled from your addiction by the man running the booth.

"Got people waiting to use the phone, lady." The man says and you nod, putting on a polite smile.

"Sorry. Sorry. I gotta go, Bobby. I'll be back in the office tomorrow." You say before hanging up, the hot summer air blowing past you as you fix your hair to keep it in place. "Damn hot country air..." You mutter to yourself as you fix your long tan skirt and red blouse tucked into the waistband.

Had to always dress nice...

You walk through the metal gates and scan the large horse track before your eyes land on the stables. Gripping the leather of your purse strap, you embark on the route towards your new story...

Walking into the stables, your nose fills with hay and sweat and iron and horses. So many horses...

"Excuse me?" You ask a random man who's walking past you with a large stack of hay in his grasp. "Do you know where I can find Kim Taehyung?" You ask, nose scrunched a bit to show just how clueless you were.

"Uh... Right over there, I believe, little miss. What brings you here? You his girl?" The man smirks and you hum with false pleasantness in your tone.

"Not exactly..." You mutter before walking off to the section the man had nodded towards when talking to you. When you walk into the stable, you see nothing at first.

"Uh... Hello?" You ask before stepping closer and seeing a young man dressed in jockey gear hiding behind the large brown horse between you two. You pause.

"Taehyung?" You ask and he peeks over the horse slightly to smile sheepishly at you.

"Depends on what you need." He teases quietly as you stare at him closely. You couldn't help it. He was a handsome man.

"Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you, Mr. Kim. Um... Last second jitters?" You joke as you motion to where he'd been hiding. He stands up straighter and laughs nervously at that, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Me? Jitters? Nah, never." He nods certainly and shakes your hand slowly.

"I came to interview your before the big race." You inform softly, but don't pull your hand away. It felt good in his grasp.

"Oh? Well... I'm on a time crunch, but... I can happily tell you all you need to know... After the race. Say... Over dinner?" He asks hopefully, and you eye him up and down.

"Mm... Depends." You say finally.

"On?" He asks, straightening up at the look of consideration on your face.

"If I find you interesting or not." You shrug before you walk out of the stables, blushing slightly.

What the hell just happened?

*****************************************

September 12th, 1950 Kentucky...

“Hey. You okay?” The question rings through the night air as you keep pace with each other. You wrap your arms around yourself a bit as you try and fix up your posture.

“Yeah. Don’t I look okay?” You try jokingly. You’d fallen into a peaceful silence as you walked back to your place from your night out at the town’s bar. It felt nice to be around this man, and a part of you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hums softly. “You look cold.” He jokes as he slips off his jacket and puts it on your shoulders effortlessly.

“Oh. Tae…” You try as you softly push it off your shoulders.

“No, no. Don’t you dare give that back.” He says simply and you blush a bit before fixing the jacket back on to your shoulders. It smelled strongly like him, and it did protect you from the chilly night country air.

“Well… If you insist.” You tease and he chuckles.

“Yup. That’s right, little lady. I don’t play when it comes to being a gentleman.” He jokes. “You will accept my jacket.” He smirks and you giggle as you look down a bit at your heels that step precisely on the pavement under you.

“Did you enjoy tonight?” He asks finally, gazing up at the stars with his hands in his pockets as you tuck some hair behind your ear. You hum and nod fast as you spot your house coming into view.

“I’m glad. Been awhile since I was… Able to go out with someone. Glad I’m not rusty.” He says and you smile a bit. Ain’t that the truth. You haven’t been out in awhile, but this just felt so right. Better than any other date you’ve been on.

“Here we are…” He finally says and you can’t help the frown that forms on your lips. You guys ascend the steps and get to your front door. You sigh softly and eye the door before leaning against it, looking up at the 5-foot-10 man standing in front of you.

“This is the part where I’m supposed to say goodnight, right?” He whispers and you gaze into his eyes softly.

“Are you going to?” You whisper back and he chuckles a bit, sheepish.

“Why do you ask?” He challenges playfully, voice a mumble as you smile up at him.

“You just… You’ve got this… Look. In your eyes…” You whisper back and he looks at you. His eyes were open books. You could see he didn’t want this night to end just like you…

“Oh? And what kind of look… Would that be?” He asks quietly and you bite your lip while you slowly reach up to touch his tie.

“The kind of look that says… You don’t wanna leave just yet…” You whisper as you gaze at his tie instead of his eyes because then he’d see that you wanted that too.

“Oh, really?” He whispers and then looks at your door before looking down at you again. “Are you gonna take pity on me then?” He asks and you finally look up at him, your cheeks hearing up only a bit as you shift slightly on your feet.

“Maybe just… To get some water for the road. It is the nice thing to do…” You say softly as you stand up straighter.

He nods. “I’d appreciate that. Yeah, water… Water sounds real nice…” He smiles.

“Just water.” You say as you point a finger at him, and he holds up both hands innocently.

“You’ve got my word.” He says and you only hum before letting you both inside.

The conversation flows nicely and freely over two glasses of water as you sit at your kitchen table. You each enjoy some fruit as well to nibble on as you focus more on each other. The time passes by so effortlessly and when you finally catch sight of the time, you see it’s almost one in the morning.

“Goodness sake…” You chuckle as you shake your head. Taehyung looks over and is also stunned by the time. “Look at that. Holy…” He trails off as you get up and start to gather the dishes and glasses.

“Getting late.” You note bashfully as you head over to the sink, mind wondering of what the night can hold for you two. As if reading your mind, Taehyung walks over to the sink too.

“Is this goodbye?” He asks quietly as he watches you start to wash the dishes. You look at him.

“What do you want?” You ask finally as you watch him smirk at the question.

“What do I want…” He mutters, as if thinking. “Can I be straightforward?” He asks and you can’t bring yourself to talk so you just nod.

“Well. I want… you. I want you… Under me. Legs wrapped around my waist. Nails digging into my back. I want you… To be absolutely… Lost… In pleasure.” He whispers as he looks you right in the eyes. You feel your entire body heat up at just his words and slowly turn off the water before you turn fully to face him.

“And how do I know you… You’re gonna stick around come morning?” You ask sheepishly. You wanted to give in too, so bad. But… What if this was all some game? He chuckles quietly at your question and shakes his head as if amused that you’d even ask that.

“There is… Nowhere else… I’d wanna go.” He whispers honestly and you feel your heart race as you grab his face and crash your lips into his, kissing him deeply as he quickly grabs a hold of your hips.

The make out is hot and heavy and he pulls away for a split second to catch his breath. “I can’t wait. Here. Now.” He pants before turning you around, so your back is to him, kissing along your neck and biting the cork of your neck as you shut your eyes in pleasure, gasping at the suddenness of his need for you. He makes quick work of unzipping your dress, groaning at the black lace set that makes you blush. You were hoping for something, that much was obvious.

With your dress now looked around your feet and his lips working your shoulders and back, his rough hands roam your body as you moan softly, enjoying being taken care of like this.

“Tae!” You moan out finally. His hand slides into your underwear and you gasp sharply only to be held between the counter and Taehyung while he rubbed your clit firmly.

“Oh! Oh!” You moan as you press right against his hand while he groans at how wet you are. You couldn’t help it. And thanks to him pressing against you, you didn’t have to worry about your legs giving out.

“Oh. What is it, darlin? Hm?” He teases quietly. “Tell me. Tell me what is it…” He encourages in your ear quietly as you grip the countertop, gasping out his name in response. It’s the only thing that could come to mind at this point.

“Mm… Lean back.” He orders and you do just that, your head falling back on his shoulder. “Look up at me…” He pants and you force your eyes open, looking up at him as you whine quietly against his lips, grinding against his rough hand…

“There you go…” He praises quietly. “Hi.” He teases and smiles softly before kissing your forehead tenderly. “What do you want, Y/N?” He whispers and you feel your mind racing. You wanted so much all at once, honestly…

“Tell me what you want…” He encourages as you start to kiss his neck and up his jawline while you shiver softly at his attention.

“I want you…” You manage to breathe out as you continue rocking against his hand, your clit throbbing for release.

“I can tell. You’re so damn wet down here…” Taehyung pants as he presses firmly against you and you feel how hard he is.

“You’re one… To talk…” You moan quietly, eyes shutting again as you grind your ass back on the bulge. He groans lowly.

“Fuck, Y/N…” He groans as his other hand roams up your body to grip one of your breasts through your bra.

You feel his finger tease your entrance before his other finger follows. You breathe in sharply as you feel him start to slowly finger fuck you, his thumb rubbing your clit. You cry out, head back against his shoulder. You felt trapped in the best way possible.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want…” He whispers in your ear as you start to trample in pleasure.

“I-I can’t… I can’t w-wait!” You whine. You needed more and you couldn’t wait for it. You needed to feel full now.

“Can’t wait? Can’t wait for what, hm?” He taunts quietly as his hand slips under your bra and starts to tweak at your nipple, making you arch your back.

“I’ve got you. Feel good for me…” He whispers in your ear and something just snaps in you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You kiss Tae hotly and grab the back of his neck, turning in his arms. He doesn’t even have time to react before you’re both falling on the kitchen floor, you straddling him. There’s no pain, just a white-hot need for more. For him. You blindly make quick work of his clothes, basically ripping open his tan vest and yanking at his tie as you make out.

********************************

April 19th, 1952 Kentucky...

"There you two are..." You say as you hop down the wooden steps of the farmhouse you'd gone to enjoy the ceremony in. The silk white wedding dress hugged your body like a dream, and the long sleeves helped protect you from the cool evening air.

Taehyung and your father look over at you as you run over to basically tackle your husband, enjoying the feel of his body against yours.

"You found us." Your father snickers as Tae kisses your forehead softly, an arm coming around to hold you tight to his side.

"Am I needed inside?" He asks you softly and you hum quietly.

"Not exactly." You say back bashfully.

"I think you're needed for husbandly duties." Your father jokes and Taehyung laughs softly as he eyes you playfully. "I'll leave you two love birds alone." He continues and you move away from your husband to hug your dad before he heads inside.

With you both alone now for the first time all day, you can't help but grab his face, kissing him deeply. He laughs against your lips but wastes no time in kissing you back. "Finally." You joke quietly against his lips, your hand going to play with his tie as he smiles bashfully at you.

"Come on now. We've got forever to kiss like that." He snickers softly as he grabs your waist firmly, holding you against him as he looks deep into your eyes.

"Not long enough." You taunt quietly as you wrap your arms around his neck. He hums and kisses your forehead sweetly.

"Imma make you eat those words, Y/N." He threatens jokingly as he sways with you ever so slightly, as if he couldn't help but move with you under the night sky. Your heavy head finds home against his chest, eyes shutting as you smile peacefully. This is what you needed...

"Do your worst." You whisper finally, eyes opening only to watch the way your gold band shimmered in the moonlight, hand gripping his tie more. You've never seen something look so... Perfectly placed. Like the ring was made specifically for you to wear as his wife. A title that was so accepted wholeheartedly.

"I hope we get more forevers..." You whisper, eyes shutting once more so you're fully drowned by the feeling.

*************************************

September 8th, 2023 South Korea...

"Just count yourself lucky, Y/N..." Your boss says as you hold your cell phone between your shoulder and ear as you walk through the spinning glass door of the recording building you'd been told to go to. You roll your eyes at the backhanded compliment. You were hoping your first writing project for this damn blog would be a... Serious one. There were bigger things happening in the world than some K-pop idol enlisting in the military!

"This man you're talking to is a real big deal, you know. Part of the biggest boyband in the world. You're gonna write up a nice little article about him, and then be on your way." Your boss says, as if you didn't know your own objectives for the day. You sigh and reach up to fix your hair that had gotten messy from the wind, but you're pulled from your conversation by some intern approaching you slowly.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" The man asks, and you nod, putting on a polite smile as you hold up a finger, silently asking for one more second on the phone.

"Sorry. Sorry. I gotta go, Bob. I'll be back in the office tomorrow." You say before hanging up, giving full attention to the intern as you fix your tan slacks and red blouse that was tucked into the waistband.

Had to always dress nice...

"Mr. Kim is upstairs? Fifth floor." He says before beckoning you to follow him. You grip the leather of your purse strap as you embark on the route towards your new story...

#bts #bts fic #bts army #bts imagine #taehyung imagine #taehyung smut #bts taehyung #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyun x reader #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #yoongi imagine #jungkook imagine

33 notes · View notes

leftnotright · 5 months

Text

A TEXTBOOK EDUCATION

"This will be a skill-building experience. You've had it too easy. You've had your Family name to back you, and your Right Hand at your every call. It's time you learn to carry yourself, to build from the ground up." Dino Cavallone, the Cavallone Don, fresh out of high school.

Reborn, the deadliest hitman of the modern era, has a special kind of torture up his sleeve for his dear struggling student. Dino will have to see how well he handles alienation, isolation, and worst of all, class participation. “Now, go on, my useless student Dino. Let’s continue your education.” (Or: Reborn sends Dino to Australia. It goes better than he could have ever hoped.)

Parings: N/A Characters: Dino (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Vic Hunt (OC - Original Character), Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Romario (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Cavallone Famiglia, Enzo (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Original Characters Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, University, Pre-Canon, Financial Issues, Fluff And Angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

CHAPTER 5: EVEN IF WE GOTTA RISK IT ALL

Dino’s coffee table was covered in papers, every page of debt he had available on display with their numbers highlighted and circled. Open on his computer was an internet window with several tabs all squashed together along the top. Dino reached over and moved his cursor across the words: ‘MELBOURNE CUP 2022 WINNINGS FIRST PLACE: $4,400,000’.

“A bonus of $500,000 for the owner, if their horse won the group one Irish St. Leger run the previous September,” Dino uttered slowly, reading the details of the Melbourne Cup with slow, careful eyes. He penned it down.

The Melbourne Cup didn’t have the largest purse in horse racing, just a bit of skimming had told Dino that. On a notepad, Dino had written down: ‘ DUBAI WORLD CUP $7.2MIL, KENTUCKY DERBY $1.8MIL, THE EVEREST $6.2MIL (IN SYDNEY!)’

But out of all the horse races, especially in the catchment of Australia, the Melbourne Cup had, by far, the greatest reputation. ‘The race that stops the nation’. What a title.

If Dino were to try and get more bang for his buck, he’d have been wiser to go for the Everest or Dubai. However, Dino wasn’t trying to be a one-hit wonder. With the Melbourne Cup came fame, a name backing his horses and the Cavallone brand. If Dino won the Melbourne Cup, it would only make enrolling in richer races all the more simple.

A meagre four million wasn’t going to put much of a dent in the Cavallone’s debts. No, winning one race wasn’t going to pull them out of the red. Dino was going to be in this for the long haul, participating in one race after another.

He needed numbers. As many hooves on the track as possible to increase his chances of winning high positions if not first place. The more horses Dino had in the races, the more prize money he could rake in - and hopefully, break even.

Racing costs money.

Training, for both jockey and horse. Transportation, feeding, accommodation, equipment and uniforms. All of that came after the original enrollment payments, and for the Melbourne Cup, there were rounds of it. Three to be exact.

And that was just the Melbourne Cup.

Dino grimaced and sipped a cup of water, blessedly cold after Dino had found the ice rack in the freezer. He put the glass against his temple and sighed.

There wasn’t much more he could do by himself. Before Dino ran off with this idea, with all his hopeful ‘what if’s and ‘we could’s, Dino would have to present his case to the Family. And since this was going to involve the horses and a whopping portion of the Cavallone funds, he was going to have to talk to the Stable Master and the Vault Keeper.

That was a full-blown Family Meeting, Dino had never called one of those before! The last time Dino had even seen the Vault Keeper was-

Dino took a slow breath and concentrated on the feeling of cold perspiration dripping down the side of his face.

The last time Dino had seen the Vault Keeper was the day of his succession and within the hour of his father’s death.

The Stable Master, at least, Dino knew quite well.

“Okay,” Dino murmured to Enzo who peeked out from under the coffee table. “For a formal Family Meeting, who do I need to call? Right Hand, Stable Master, Vault Keeper, probably the Head of Housekeeping to keep them in the loop and-” Dino winced, “Available Guardians.”

The Cavallone Don groaned as he flopped back on the couch, still holding that glass to his forehead to try and ward off that headache he felt creeping up on him.

It wasn’t working.

☁ ☁ ☁

The first thing Vic noticed when Dino stumbled into class was that he was all but dead on his feet. The poor guy was slumped over in his seat, resting heavily on the desk in front of him.

Vic came and found her seat next to Dino at their group’s table. She unpacked her laptop and produced a folder, full of the handouts and the straws and blu-tack for their activity.

“How’re you doing?” Vic asked, and gave Dino a gentle nudge.

Dino’s arm slipped out from under his jaw and his head hit the desk with a ‘ bang! ’. Vic cursed as heads snapped around and quickly moved to scoop up Dino’s head, hissing at the red mark on the boy’s forehead.

“Fuck,” she wheezed and Dino blinked widely, very much awake now. “You’re in a fucking state! When did you go to bed?”

“Uuuh,” Dino squinted as he rubbed his head, “The, uh-”

Vic had the sudden and horrible feeling that this boy hadn’t actually gone to sleep that night. She looked to her folder, then to the lesson’s tutor who was setting up the projector for the day’s rostered presentation: Social Class.

Oh fuck.

Where the hell was Jess? Vic looked at her phone and saw a text in the group chat.

Jessica Cheng

Hi guys, really sorry the trains are being replaced by buses, I’m gonna be like 10 minutes late.

Jessica Cheng

Can we just move the activity after Vic and I’ll come in last?

Jessica Cheng

I’ll sprint it, I promise

Vic twitched and looked at the clock. They were only required to speak for three minutes each. Dino looked like he could speak for less.

She groaned and rubbed her head before sending a text back.

Vic Hunt

Sure, we’ll buy you time.

Jessica Cheng

Kk see you soon

Jessica went abruptly offline then and Vic only hoped she was able to get across campus fast enough.

“I will be okay,” Dino grumbled from inside his pillow of arms. “May speak, uh, slowly. But it will be done.”

Vic looked to Dino and then slumped in her chair. She took a breath through her nose and out her mouth, her feet pressed hard into the carpeted floor.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, we’ll be fine.”

“Dino, Jessica and Vic,” the tutor called and Vic grimaced.

By the end of their tutorial, Jess had scampered off to catch her bus home and Dino and Vic had chosen a sunny patch of grass by the Macquarie University's lake to wallow on. Vic was laid out on her back, her limbs still throbbing with nerves after public speaking adlib with Jess coming not ten, but fifteen minutes late to class.

Vic was sure she had covered the same point twice with multiple stutters and ‘uh’s.

“That sucked,” Vic whined loudly.

Dino appeared in her peripheral, sat at her side, and gave a weak smile of agreement. Vic had no idea what he was talking about. Despite his loose hold on English - that was only getting better, she kept reminding him - he had spoken with some kind of damning confidence in his voice that made Vic want to kick him in the shins for making her think he was going to all but faint on her. He spoke like he was used to presenting to groups of people! The bastard!

Vic frowned at him severely, before rolling over in the grass and burying her face in her backpack.

“I believe we- we did very well!” Dino assured and Vic huffed when he gave her a pat on the back. Then under his breath she heard him whisper, “How are you not sweaty?”

“Not everyone had pores like a waterfall,” Vic answered before turning her head and asked, “And what the fuck Dino? You were acting like you were going to die when we got up to speak but as soon as we got that slide up you might have well have been Steve fucking Jobs releasing the new iPhone!”

Dino blinked, and then he curled in on himself. His ears flushed red and Vic had the sudden and intense urge to ask if he had put sunscreen on them today.

“I, uh, hesitated a lot.”

“No more than I fucking did,” Vic pointed out, “And dude your projection. The teacher had to ask Jess to speak up -- and asked me to slow down. Your pacing was spot on!”

Once again, Dino ducked his head and Vic was reminded of Enzo recoiling back after bumping into her thermos during a study session.

“You know what? Fuck it, you’re helping me with my public speaking skills from now on. You could sell water to a drowning man.” Vic demanded, before reaching out and poking at Dino’s cargo shorts’ pocket. “Now, release the baby.”

Dino laughed and unpacked Enzo from his pocket, the little turtle stubbornly hiding in his shell even when he was placed on the grass between them, safely in Dino’s shadow. Vic grinned and rolled over to her side, cooing happily as the presence of Enzo soothed her academically injured soul.

“Hello! Oh hello,” Vic chirped, a complete one-eighty flip from the grumpy, huffy mood she had been in before. “He’s not coming out.”

“Too much sun,” Dino offered, gesturing to the heat that bathed the whole lake despite the students that spotted the valley.

Vic hummed, it didn’t feel too hot to her. But then again, Enzo had spent most of his life in Italy with Dino. Then she poked Enzo’s shell and saw an eye peeking out at her in great disgruntlement.

“Wait,” Vic sat up and stared at the lake. “Wait, he's a turtle, he can go in the lake! A nice swimmy!”

Dino’s head snapped around.

“After being in your stuffy-ass pocket, a good swim must be exactly what he needs!” Vic insisted, grinning with teeth again.

Dino snatched Enzo up off the ground before Vic could grab him, a nervous smile on his face and a whole new sheet of sweat going down his neck.

“No! No, uh, Enzo is a- a saltwater turtle! I do not know if the lake water will agree with him.”

Vic paused. Fuck he was right. She winced and scratched the back of her head, feeling bits of grass and leaves come out.

“Right, sorry, didn’t think about that.”

God that was a dick move. What was she going to do, grab someone’s emotional support turtle and dump it wherever? Think it through Vic!

“It is okay,” Dino assured, and Vic nearly jumped when he touched her arm -- wow, his hand was moist. “It wouldn’t have hurt him. Enzo is a strong boy.”

Then he reached across and gently placed Enzo in her lap, still once again in his shadow.

“I don’t think he is liking how warm I am,” Dino laughed.

Vic looked down at Enzo in her lap, then to Dino’s open face. She tucked her chin into her chest and bit down on her smile.

Vic spun and flopped back onto her back with a huff, relaxing all over as she lay in the sun. On her stomach, she felt Enzo shuffle around until he settled on the soft, pillowy space of her stomach.

Dino reached into his pocket and fed the still-hiding Enzo a pellet at a time.

“So, what were you even doing for the whole night?” Vic asked.

Dino shrugged, “Uh, I’ve been investigating. Learning about horse racing, and dealing with some Family issues.”

Vic hummed lowly, “You’re really keen on that racing idea.”

Dino smiled, and leant back on his hands, voice quiet as he said, “If we can race again…It may save my Family.”

Vic blinked, then tilted her head as she observed him. Vic had only known Dino for little over just a month now, but she felt like she had a loose, if not a reasonable, grasp on one of Dino’s core values: Family.

To Dino, family always comes first. In fact, most of their conversations had at some point turned to family. Dino, at this point, could list off all of Vic’s cousins, aunts and uncles, and Vic was sure she would have to fight Romario for adoption rights.

The ‘Dino Adoption’ debate had become a rather hot topic in the Hunt Houses, a split between factions: To-Adopt, and Not-To-Adopt. Not-To-Adopt was dwindling in numbers, however, with every Dino or University-centric rant Vic sent home. Robbie’s crown was slipping, and Vic’s mum had started a guest bedroom Pinterest inspo-board.

Vic, her mum and her grandma had been steadfastly ignoring Robbie’s screaming voice messages that ‘we don’t even have a spare room!’

Her dad had always liked carpentry, Vic was sure he’d come up with something. He was always rather smart with his hands — something Vic’s mum liked to sing praises of until someone begged her to shut up over a sea of gagging children. Maybe he’d build a barnyard style granny-flat. Speaking of barns—

“So, like, you’ve been breeding horses for years. You got any cute ones? Like, ones that are fluffy?”

Vic felt like she had at least a loose grip on Dino, and nothing got ‘horse girl’ Dino talking like his horses. Only ask for photos if you’ve got the next few hours free. Dino’s Econ tutorial had been cancelled, they had the whole day.

The things Vic did to keep her soon-to-be-adopted Dino happy.

Dino was already fumbling for his phone by the time Vic had uttered the words ‘fluffy’.

“We have this Przewalski Mongolian! Ah! Beautiful coat! So good to brush, and when she’s freshly bathed!?”

Dino turned his phone and Vic wheezed at the horse, covered in thick packed fuzz and fur.

“Oh God, hugging that? Fuckin’ bliss,” Vic all but swooned. “I wanna be squished between two.”

Then she paused, sat up and squinted at the corner of Dino’s screen.

“Gimme that.” Vic took Dino’s phone despite the squawk of alarm and zoomed out to see what Dino had tried to hide.

In the background of the photo was an early highschool-aged Dino, sporting braces on his teeth and several bandaids all over, and being dragged by the waist of his pants by some huge stallion. The panic and flurry of multiple stablehands and Romario himself attempting to save Dino, a direct contrast to the peaceful grazing of the Mongolian in the foreground.

Vic snorted before wheezing out her whole lung capacity. Enzo gave a disgruntled click and slipped off Vic’s jumping stomach as she continued to laugh, only fuelled by Dino’s betrayed and indignant babbling.

Dino lept to take his phone back, but their squabble of hands shifted and zoomed until baby-Dino’s face, crumpled and folded in unflattering fear, took up the screen. Vic doubled over again, cackling with belly and teeth.

Dino huffed as he stole back his phone and moved the picture on screen safely back into his camera roll. He crossed his arms and waited for Vic to be done.

She took a huge breath, glanced at Dino's face, and then promptly let out another belt of laughter.

“It was not that funny!” Dino scolded, helping Enzo up into his lap.

“It was!” Vic gasped, and Dino gave her a smack on the arm.

“Ah! Abuse! In front of the child!”

“Enzo has seen worse.”

“No, my baby,” Vic cried quietly, and rolled over to mourn the sweet turtle’s lost innocence.

Dino huffed and shifted on the spot, phone in his hands.

“...We also have a new Haflinger foal,” he said and, this time with an iron grip on his phone, showed Vic the knobbly-kneed foal beside its mother.

Vic snorted and settled down in the sunbathed grass to be once again regaled of the Cavallone’s prized herd. As always, Dino spoke rapidly. Stumbling over words, ‘ahs’ and ‘ums’, repetition and mistakes not slowing him down in the least as he raved about the last Spring’s yield of four new foals. What Vic couldn’t understand through a thick accent or patchy English-Italian half-words, Vic could fill in with the side gestures Dino made. Vic had heard that Italians spoke with their hands, and Dino was only supporting that stereotype as he drew the shape of a massive mare.

“Nearly two me’s!” Dino exclaimed.

Vic imagined a horse that stood well over her own height and immediately felt the need to climb on one. She’d never ridden a horse before, but surely you just, like, clamber up and hold on for dear life.

Dino’s great tale was interrupted, however, when a shrill, aghast voice cut through the afternoon.

“ What the fuck is that!? ”

Dino’s head snapped around and Vic sat up as she saw a girl break off from her group and come storming over. The rest of her group were calling out to her, one of them tried to grab her by her bag.

Vic blinked slowly as the girl came to a stop at Dino’s side, her hackles raised with some kind of righteous anger in her eyes.

Vic glanced to Dino and asked, “Ah, this your ex or something?”

Dino looked to Vic with wild confusion, “I do not know, I-”

“This is illegal!” The girl snapped and Dino let out a yelp as her hand lashed out and scooped up the still-tucked Enzo.

In an instant, that warm calm that had utterly steeped Vic’s body flushed out.

“Oi!” Vic bellowed and sprung to her feet, fists clenched. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

A hot anger boiled in Vic’s blood, Dino’s horror-struck expression only fueling it as he tried to organise himself and ask for Enzo back.

“This!” The girl shouted again, shoving Enzo in Vic’s face, and then Dino’s. “Is an incredibly invasive species! It is illegal to have a Red Eared Slider turtle in Australia!”

“He’s not a Red Slider, you fuck!” Vic seethed, “Enzo’s a Sponge turtle!”

“Look at this shell-”

“Look at his fucking face! ”

“It's invasive!”

“He’s the wrong fucking species! ” Vic shouted and went to grab Enzo back.

The girl backed out of reach and held Enzo to her chest, loud, angry clicking coming from inside his shell.

“Red Eared Sliders are aggressive and utterly destroy Australia’s natural freshwater habitats! It needs to be handed over to RSPCA so they can ship it out or put it down!”

Dino gave a sharp gasp of alarm and Vic saw red.

The hold she had on her temper snapped like a thread pulled taut and with heat in her skin, she lunged forward. Vic went at the girl with nails and elbows. She swiped and poor Enzo went flying in a direction she blindly hoped was Dino’s, a soft ‘aaaaaaaaaaa’ emitting from the shell as it disappeared from her tunnel vision.

The girl screamed as Vic got her hands on her, and threw her whole body weight to send the girl head over heels. She hit the water with an almighty splash, and a flock of ducks noisily took flight.

Vic breathed ragged through her teeth, fists clenched. Her temper, white-hot and utterly boiling her blood, was only slightly settled by the sight of the shell-shocked girl sitting, drenched in the lake.

“Who’s the fucking ‘invasive species’ now, bitch!?” Vic bellowed.

"Got to go, got to go!" Dino chanted near hysterically as he grabbed Vic by her arm and started running.

Vic with gritted teeth and tense shoulders, let Dino drag her across the field and towards the Village. She huffed when she nearly crashed into Dino’s back as he came to a sudden, slow walk. Dino, casually, innocently, walked with Vic passed Campus Security as they sailed passed in their little golf carts.

Vic snorted through her nose and gave Dino’s back a scrutinising look but couldn’t be bothered to see past her own heat haze.

The gates of the Village came into view and Vic stormed forward, taking heavy, stomped footsteps all the way through to her shitty five-bedroom dormhouse, with her shitty roommates, who didn’t respect her fucking personal space-!

Vic hit her bed facedown. Calm down, calm down, calm fucking down!

Faintly, in the far back of her awareness, Vic heard Dino sit in her creaking desk chair and the thump of him dropping their bags. Dino was such a good boy - what was he doing when Enzo was taken she didn’t look - he was so nice and warm - he walked passed the security didn’t even flinch knew what to do-

Vic rolled onto her back and took a breath in through her nose and out her mouth. In and out, in and out. That girl had said to put Enzo down. Dino’s support animal, someone he took everywhere with him no matter what - Dino needed Enzo and that girl said ‘put down’.

Vic took another breath in. She clenched her fists. A breath out and clenched her forearms- Why wasn’t it working-

There was a roar in her ears, a thundering thump in her chest.

Then a weight dropped on her stomach, just substantial enough that Vic started out of her rambling spiral. Vic lifted her head and craned her neck, Enzo’s big, beady eyes stared back up at her.

Enzo looked around slowly, before his feet popped out from his shell and, slowly, he plodded up to find a comfortable place on Vic’s chest.

Just behind Enzo, Vic could see Dino, his hands still outstretched from where he had dropped Enzo on her.

Dino smiled a bit, an awkward, lopsided thing, and said, “Enzo, he, uh, helps me be calm.”

Vic blinked, before she let out a puff of breath. She dropped her head back and used Enzo’s weight to try and sink that rising heat. She felt that familiar rumble in her chest swell and grow, and she let it out in a long, gaping yawn.

Vic hated getting angry, she was always tired afterwards.

Vic sniffed and scratched her cheek, her body heavy right down to the core like her bones were waterlogged.

“You wanna eat somethin’?” Vic asked.

Dino paused, startled, before he lowered himself to sit on the edge of Vic’s bed and said, “Yeah, what would you like?”

“Chicken nuggets. So many chicken nuggets.”

☁ ☁ ☁

Greasy wrappers and stray grains of salt littered the foot of Vic’s bed as the two of them sat up against the wall, Vic’s phone playing music in the background. Dino heaved as he slumped against the wall. He had eaten an obscene amount of nuggets and sweet and sour sauce.

Vic, somehow, was still going. 40 chicken nuggets, and so far 17 of them were sitting in the seemingly bottomless chasm of Vic’s belly.

Dino slurped on his cola as Vic, unflinchingly, ate her 18th and reached for another.

“How’s Enzo?” Vic asked through half a mouthful of nugget.

Dino looked to the turtle that, more or less, had put them into hiding for the foreseeable future — or at least until the blurry video of ‘bodily yeeting entitled Karen into lake’ stopped popping up on Dino’s feed every time he refreshed it. It had become a meme template. The speed of the internet was terrifying.

Vic, hearing the grainy sound of her own voice hollering “Who’s the fucking ‘invasive species’ now, bitch!?” shoved her 20th nugget into her mouth.

Dino winced and closed his phone.

“Enzo is fine. I told you, he is hardy.”

Vic grumbled and reached to pet Enzo, who paused his munching on a bag of mixed leaves Vic had pulled from a cooler - an ‘esky’ - in the corner of her room. There were three, all stacked on each other and full of chilled foodstuffs.

Dino glanced at Vic and saw the 24th nugget disappear. He had already seen a fridge in the shared kitchen on the way up to the room. Now, maybe, wasn’t the best time to ask.

Nonetheless, Dino stored it in his memory, another conversation starter!

Vic’s phone suddenly stopped playing music, and the screen flipped to an incoming call. Vic sighed and shoved her last nugget in her mouth before answering the call from ‘Robbie’.

“What?” She asked, muffled around her chicken nugget.

Dino took another sip of his drink as Vic leant her head on his shoulder.

Casual touch. Dino hadn't experienced that in… Weeks. It had only just dawned on him how much he had missed it after leaving home.

Dino shifted a bit to make sure he was comfortable - both for him and Vic. He almost felt like someone priming their lap with blankets, hoping the family cat would choose them for the foreseeable hours.

Dino's rather cosy trail of thought was interrupted by the caller on Vic's phone.

“You fucking threw someone into a lake!?” Robbie screeched from the other side of the phone.

Vic made a lazy, noncommittal noise as she slowly chewed, completely unhurried by the state her brother was apparently in.

“Vicky, I thought you were over this!”

Vic proceeded to mutter something vaguely mocking through her chewing. Dino snorted a bit despite how he tried to send her a scolding look. Vic ignored him.

“Jesus Christ, Vicky- Why’d you even do it!?”

Vic took a sip of her frozen coke and simply said, “Bitch tried to take Dino’s turtle.”

There was a faint bang, and then a distinctly loud bang. Then came the scream of Robbie being tackled and the fight for the phone.

“Bitch did what to Enzo!?”

Dino glanced to Vic. He had been wondering where she had sent all those turtle pictures — evidently, a good bulk had gone to Bec, her cousin.

“Crazy cunt fucking stole Enzo out of Dino’s lap like he was a Woolies apple and started going on about ‘invasive species’ and ‘putting him down’ and like fuck was I gonna let her talk shit like that!” Vic ranted, waving her cup at the far window like her cousin was standing before them.

There was a pause, before there was a chorus of approval in the background. At least four voices all chipped in with their opinions and Dino was hit with the sudden realisation that there was a roomful of Hunts on the other end of that line.

“You should have thrown her deeper, Vicky!”

“Strengthen those little chicken wings! You’ve gotta start going to the gym!”

“Don’t support this!” Robbie yelled over the cheering and was met with a round of ‘boo’s.

“Oi, we always back family! Even if they’re doing something kinda stupid — we always back our family!”

Dino stared down at the bubbles patterning the sides of his waxed paper cup. Family always backs each other.

“Dino and Enzo are my babies, I’m not letting some half-cocked bitch make ‘em sad,” Vic scoffed and wrapped an arm around him — tipping a bit of ice down the back of his shirt as she did. Not entirely by accident, if Vic’s snicker meant anything as he frantically tried to get it out.

As Dino finally got the last of the ice out from the waist of his pants, Dino saw Vic grin up at him with the usual amount of teeth. He huffed and couldn’t resist smiling back at her.

Romario was going to be so proud of him. Everyone was going to be proud of him!

Family backs each other, even in their riskiest of endeavours.

“If you wanna adopt the bastard, you’ve gotta stop being violent in public!”

There were jeers and the bellowing of a crowd of people and Vic slipped off Dino’s shoulder and back onto her bed, phone pressed to her ear.

Dino looked down at Vic as she listened to her family through the phone. She looked the most relaxed he had seen her in — probably ever. Distinctly, it wasn't that strange, almost sedated calm that followed Vic around usually. This calm was the most human he had seen, the most natural.

Dino looked down at Vic, who laid with her eyes closed and her family screaming in her ear, and found himself wondering what kind of Flame she had hidden dormant.

Then, there was a loud crash from Vic's phone and the line went dead, someone had obviously slapped the end button with their elbow or face in the scuffle. Vic scoffed as the music on her phone resumed and she let it drop to the side of the pillow, already pawing around for her frozen coke.

Dino watched her fingertips graze the edge, collecting droplets of perspiration. He nudged it slightly further out of reach.

"Cunt," Vic hissed and Dino laughed as she uncoordinatedly smacked the side of her calf against his head.

Vic gave a heave of great effort and distress as she rolled onto her belly, finally grasping her slushy drink in hand. She took a long slurp before she craned her neck to look at Enzo, only his little tail visible as he dug deeper into the pile of leafy greens.

"I will not be able to bring Enzo out of my pocket for a time," Dino sighed and saw Vic blow disgruntled bubbles into her slushy.

"Yeah," she bit out, keeping whatever loaded rant she had shoved deep away.

Dino smiled weakly and took another drink of his cola, a loud, empty slurp that rattled the straw. Then Dino looked around at Vic's room, the cramped desk, the stacked eskys.

"If you want," Dino started and leant back on a hand, trying to be nonchalant-

Vic's body pillow didn't take his weight and Dino gave a gurgled yelp as his arm gave way and he fell. His head connected painfully with Vic's bony knees, Vic gave a gasp of pain and Dino clutched his head.

Soon, the two of them sat on the bed, two young adults curled up in groaning pain.

"What the fuck, Dino?" Vic wheezed, holding her knees as they throbbed.

"Sorry," Dino whined as the beginnings of a headache settled deep in his right temple. "I wanted to ask you if you would like to meet at my house. Enzo cannot meet you outside for a while."

Vic massaged her knees before she kicked Dino in the side.

“Fucking oath I am! Thought that was a fucking given!”

Dino winced as Vic kicked him in the side again, before, tentatively, Dino lightly thumped his foot against the back of Vic’s thigh. There was a distinct, fleshy ‘thwap’.

A pause hung in the air, and Dino had the familiar sensation of social-faux-pas-dread settle in the bottom of his stomach—

Dino heard something akin to an elated warcry from the other end of the bed, and all seventy kilos of Vic’s weight came crashing down on him, twenty-four nuggets and all. Dino wheezed and the two became a brawling wrangle of slapping hands and kicking feet, all up until Vic rolled and kicked Dino off the side of the bed.

Dino shrieked and clawed at the sheets until he went tumbling, shoulders-first to the floor. He gasped, splayed out on his back on the dorm’s musty carpet and stared up at Vic’s ceiling, dotted with weird marks.

Vic’s face appeared from over the edge, a smug, vindictive curl to her grin.

“Cunt,” she said.

Dino grabbed his cup, sloshing with half-melted ice cubes, and grabbed Vic by her beloved oversized band-tee and dumped it.

Vic shrieked and Dino couldn’t help the belly-deep cackling that burst out as he watched Vic frantically scoop at her bra under her shirt.

☁ ☁ ☁

It had taken a bit over ten days and several nervous breakdowns, cushioned by either Enzo or Vic, but Dino felt like he was ready to call for a Family Meeting of the Cavallone. Or, well, he wasn’t seconds away from cardiac arrest at the thought of it, now.

Dino wheezed a bit. Now, he just needed to get in contact with Romario and set it up.

Dino reached for his phone. He hadn’t tried to contact home in a while. Between university, Vic, races, and his bi-weekly laying-on-the-floor-in-crisis time, Dino hadn’t had the chance to call home in…nearly six weeks now! Going on seven! They were fresh into April, nearly mid-semester break, and Dino hadn’t called since February.

This was probably, no, definitely, the longest Dino hadn’t gone without contact with the Cavallone.

Seeing Vic listening to her family, had reminded Dino of just how much he missed them. Dino just wondered if anyone would pick up, or if Reborn’s contact-ban was still in place.

Dino withered and dialled Romario’s quick-dial, and uttered a short prayer. It rang once, twice—

“Boss!”

Dino suddenly understood why Vic had just laid down and listened. He could hear so much through the phone. Familiar songbirds, the chatter of Cavallone stablehands and the bray of horses. Suddenly, Dino was hit with the smell of the stables in early Spring; the fresh sand and straw they laid on the muddy ground, the lavender and wild rosemary that grew outside, the sweat and manure.

Dino wanted to be like Vic and just curl up on his side and listen.

“Boss! How have you been!?” Romario asked and Dino heard the clammer and cacophony of news in the background: the Boss had finally called home.

God, Dino had missed the sound of Italian; a good Sicilian accent.

“I’m fine, Romario. I’ve still got all my fingers and toes,” Dino assured with a laugh. “I’ve got some killer tanlines, though.”

“Good! After your exams you were far too pasty looking!”

Dino rolled his eyes, this wasn’t the first time Romario had feared a potential vitamin-D deficiency.

“So, tell me, what have you been up to?” Romario urged, and Din could just imagine him leant up against the gates of the stables in his singlet and jeans.

Dino relaxed into the couch, Enzo snoozed in his luggage-enclosure.

“Class is hard,” Dino admitted, “I’ve gotta use Google translate and listen to lectures twice as long. If I didn’t have Vic to help me, I would have absolutely bombed on the vocabulary mini-test!”

At some point, the update had turned into Dino’s whinging time - but could you really blame him? For months, Dino had been left to flail alone in this strange country, and he didn’t even have the English skills to vent properly to his one friend—

“I’ve-!” Dino started loudly, a rush of pride returning when he remembered his shining achievement. “I’ve made a friend!”

There was a beat of silence, before someone far away gasped, “ What?”

“I’ve made a friend!” Dino repeated, “Her name’s Vic!”

“A woman!?”

“She’s really nice! She loves Enzo! She threw someone in the lake for us! And she bought us chicken nuggets!”

Dino grinned as he regaled Romario and their menagerie of eavesdroppers about the many adventures he had been on with Vic around the university and to the nearby shopping centres.

Dino decided to omit the part where he got lost in the Kmart homewares section, and had to go to the front desk so they could call for Vic over the announcement system. ‘Attention customers, could 'Vic Hunt' please come to the front of the store to collect your…child?’ was still engraved in Dino’s head, along with the stares from the staff. Vic had all but run through the store to get him. By then, Dino had been offered a snake-shaped lolly, half of which Vic stole, and held his hand the rest of the shop so neither got lost in that department store maze.

Instead, Dino moved onto how he and Vic met almost daily to study and chat, and how she liked to listen about the horses — Dino nearly flung himself off the couch when he snapped up, suddenly reminded of what this phone call was about.

“Romario,” Dino said and heard the excited chatter fall silent at his tone. “I want to call a Family Meeting.”

Romario’s shift was immediate.

“What for, Boss?”

Dino could hear him move away from the stable and the working hands.

“I’ve been thinking about the state of the Family and the few resources we have. Being so far from home has, well, it’s given me a new perspective.” Dino said slowly, knowing he was about to broach a sensitive subject. “The Cavallone need to use our horses again. The Cavallone need to race again.”

Romario took a sharp, hissed breath in through his teeth. Racing was taboo.

“Boss,” he began shakily, like some part of him expected the ghost of the Eight Boss to enact vengeance upon them. “The Cavallone have been banned for nearly one hundred years!”

“In Italy,” Dino pointed out, looking down at the list of races all around the world. “And only in Mafia circles.”

“You want to race civilians?” Romario asked, the disbelief clear in his voice. “Our Cavallone horses, against civilians? ”

“Yes,” Dino responded, “Our horses. Our… untrained horses.” Dino suddenly felt that cardiac arrest creeping up again. “We need money. Racing is lucrative.”

He gripped his trousers until his knuckles were white. “Please, Romario.” Dino’s voice was quiet in the empty, dark living room. “I believe this will work. I believe this, our horses, can save our Family.”

Romario was silent.

Dino let him work through his thoughts. He knew he was asking for a lot, and for Romario to stick his neck out for Dino. Romario was the one who would have to act as proxy and call everyone to the Meeting, and in doing so, show complete faith in Dino’s plan.

Romario’s voice came through the speaker. “Very well, Boss. I’ll organise the Meeting. Will tomorrow suit you?”

A relieved smile broke out on Dino's face. “Whenever. We’ll have to work with timezones, anyway.”

“Ten hours, right? I will see what I can do.”

Dino let out a long sigh, feeling nearly lightheaded. “Thank you, Romario.”

“Of course, Boss,” Romario hummed, “Get some rest, it must be late.”

Dino looked at his clock, 2AM. He needed to go to sleep, he had class at 10AM.

“Boss, you should send us photos now that we can talk again. Is Australia really all just desert and city?”

“What? No, there’s plenty of greenery and water here!” Dino laughed, “But it’s hot. A different hot to home. Vic has been busy making sure I don’t get heat stroke.”

“Sounds nice, it’s still cold here. But by the time you’re home, it’ll be warm. You come at the end of your semester, right? June?”

“Yeah, June to August, Winter break. Vic will be miserable, she loves warmth. Like a lizard.”

Romario laughed and Dino let himself flop across his couch. They had just said Dino should have gone to bed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to hang up. Not after so long without his Family.

“So your friend, Vic, is she a local?”

“Yeah, Vic’s from Australia,” Dino hummed, and grabbed a pillow to cuddle, sleep beginning to press against the back of his eyes. “She says she was born around here, actually. But her family has moved to, uh, Castle-something. Has a new baby cousin she wants to see.”

“And you said she’s been keeping you alive,” Romario chuckled and Dino gave some kind of senseless whine of indignation.

“Only- Kinda, yeah, but like, leave me alone maybe?” Dino grumbled, before rolling over on the couch, “How’s everyone at home doing?”

Dino cuddled into the throw pillow and listened as Romario recited the usual reports on the comings and goings of the Cavallone estate. It was the usual chaos, with a bit of a curve ball thrown in with the Boss away. But Romario, as usual, managed to wrangle everything under control, especially with the Stable Master acting as the Cavallone regent.

They were still receiving their local import of barley and hay at a steady pace, and the farmers had offered a ‘loyalty perk’ after generations of working together. Dino nearly teared up as he heard how they had reduced their prices by 10%. He made sure to make Romario write down the family name of every farmer, the Cavallone would always be loyal to them.

The Ninth’s Guardians were still responding to messages, but only enough to assure that they weren’t dead. Even then, only Croix was handling correspondence. Really, the only evidence that the rest of the Guardians were still around was Croix’s word and the Cavallone delivery boys that dropped off supplies to them. Getting them out to the Family Meeting was probably going to be the hardest, they hardly left the Ranch anymore.

Dino frowned and clutched his pillow. He had been worried about his uncles. Losing a Sky was never easy, and Guardians could only outlive their Harmony with so much grace.

One of the younger Cavallone wards had finally been able to manifest a Flame expression. Though, it was scratching some heads with its Frequency. It was probably just a weird expression, maybe some kind of strong Secondary coming through. They hoped the kid settled down soon, it was causing their carers concern.

Well that was concerning, Dino hummed and sleepily instructed that the child would be put under watch.

Brutus got bit on the ass by a mule that morning. It was his own fault, he should have known better than to be off-guard in the presence of one of the biters. The Stablehands had a good laugh out of it and everyone had a good look at the pattern on his boxers.

Dino snorted and relaxed, listening as the accounts became less and less important, Romario’s reports devolving into mindless updates on the little things Dino missed around the place in the time he was gone. He closed his eyes and opened his ears to the sound of Romario and that far off island of Sicily he so missed.

The next morning, Dino received the notification for the Family Meeting’s appointed time: 8PM. 10AM on the Italian’s side.

He spent the time between classes preparing, making notes, practising his delivery. Anything to get rid of the shake in his knees and the quiver in his voice. Vic had noticed and had offered Dino a sympathetic hiss when she had heard the abridged summary.

“Hey,” she said, giving Dino a gentle shove with her elbow. “If you want, I’ll drop by after the call? We can hang out, get some food?”

Then she had bought him something sweet from the student cafe to perk him up before they parted ways. Dino was always grateful that he managed to make a friend all the way out here.

Dino nibbled on the frankly monstrously-sized cookie as he went about setting up his computer and space, trying to hold his treat in a way that wouldn’t melt the choc chips. He moved a bag of takeaway wrappers out from behind his couch and finally made the trip to the bin, taking a few wrappers and packages of assorted socks.

He fluffed the couch’s throw pillows and quickly brought that random, dying succulent to the back porch. He was in the middle of gently encouraging the fake Monstera plant to sit right when the chime for the meeting rang out.

Dino gasped and vaulted for the couch, completely overshooting it and slamming face-first into the narrow space between the couch and coffee table.

“Good to see the boy hasn’t changed.”

Dino’s face went red and he began his squirming crawl to try and get his feet out of the air and back under him.

“I thought you gave up trying to do handstands when you were little Dino!” Came that teasing, smoker-rough voice and Dino finally flipped himself right-side up.

“I wasn’t trying to do a handstand, Uncle Croix!”

The Rain Guardian to the late Ninth Cavallone and Dino’s Uncle in every sense but blood grinned at him through the screen. He was a jovial man that was going well grey, with a short-boxed beard lining framing his jaw and crows feet pinching the corners of his eyes.

“Young Romario tells me you’ve been good and roasted down there in Australia! Remember to keep away from the sun, or you’ll end up looking like Anvil, all patchy and leather skinned!” Croix powered on and Dino resisted the urge to sink into his chair, knowing that once Croix was rolling, nothing short of an all out gunfight could stop him.

“Let the boy talk, Croy,” the Stablemaster groused, and Dino looked to the second panel where the rest of the Meeting’s attendants sat.

The Stablemaster, the Vault Keeper, the Head of Housekeeping, and Romario all sat around the one board table they had left, and were turned in their seats to face him. The Vault Keeper sat there, nearly unmoving. If it weren’t for the rest of the room, Dino would have thought the camera was frozen.

Dino started to sweat. The last time he had seen all these faces at once, his father had been a cooling body in the next room.

“Whenever you’re ready, Boss, we can begin,” Romario urged, and Dino snapped to attention.

“Right,” he said, and looked at his notes just to the side of the computer, written on a little notepad.

Vic at some point had drawn a small dick on the corner of the first hundred or so pages. Up until literally just now, Dino had thought it was a lop-sided heart.

Dino let out a short snort. He took a breath, and with Vic’s supportive presence in the form of a collection of penned dicks, he began.

“I believe it is safe to say that we are all aware of the state of the Cavallone,” there was a grumble of consensus. “We are sinking, with the last of our furniture reaching their final bid, we have no way of keeping up with the debt.”

Romario winced, and the Stablemater frowned. Croix didn’t utter a sound, and watched through the screen with a solemn expression.

“At the rate we are going, our Cavallone will succumb to debt and be bankrupt within five years.” Five years. Dino would barely be twenty-three. “We need a way to stop this, our Family, from falling apart.”

Dino glanced at each face on his screen, “We need to race again.”

The Head of Housekeeping went pale. Croix shifted back in his chair, and the Stablemaster’s expression became utterly stormy.

Romario looked at Dino through the camera and nodded, as if to say, “go on.”

Dino pushed on, referring to his notes, and those little dicks, whenever he felt his resolve waver. He recalled the great success Cavallone horses flaunted during their golden age, referenced the sheer profits the Family had turned from racing, and how the Cavallone could enjoy the same today. Dino highlighted articles, winning and race purses, and the prestige that came with it. He pointed out budgeting, and plans, and week's worth of fervent research and study.

Dino pushed that all of this was within grasp. Outside of the thin borders of Italy. Outside of the influence of the Mafia. That the Cavallone’s retribution was there for the taking if they just reached for it.

Faces were grim.

The Vaultkeeper had turned her head away.

The Head of Housekeeping smiled like he was in pain. He probably was. He had been young, but he had been there during the reign of the Eighth. He had been there to watch him break.

“You want us to race?” The Stablemaster asked, gravel in his tone. “You want us to gamble away the last of the money keeping us afloat?”

Dino took a breath, “That money is time we bought ourselves by selling our history. Do you know what the other Families call us? A Family selling off their pride.”

“Pride will not pay out our debts-”

“In a starving house, pride is all we have left,” Dino rebutted, “Pride, and spite, and a vindictive Will to live. Is this not all we have left to heat our halls and till our fields, and feed our horses — who sit stagnant in their stables, because of men who were too weak to beat us!”

Dino sat straight, his shoulders squared and seethed.

“Since I was born, I have only heard smuggled whispers of the glory of the Cavallone horses. Our trophies sit in dusty, moulding boxes! Instead of taking us on fairly with dignity, they hide behind one another and slash at our ankles! Our right to race was just the tipping point, our trade with merchants and businesses have been undercut by the same hands! How long do we intend to cower at the echoes of the Eighth’s tantrums, and the descendants of tiny men!?”

The Stablemaster, everyone, had sat up at Dino’s tone, the furrow of his brow, the square of his shoulders. The Vault Keeper turned to Dino slowly.

Dino unclenched his jaw and breathed, long and slow, out through his nose.

“I know I’ve only been Don for not even a full year, and I know I am asking for more trust than I may deserve. But I believe that our horses are our key to survival. I am willing to bet on it.”

The Stablemaster narrowed his eyes, “What are you betting?”

Dino smiled.

“What is the Cavallone if not my life and head?”

Croix sat up sharply, “Dino!”

“If the Cavallone fail to pay off their debts, our ‘benefactors’ will expect to be paid in blood,” Dino frowned, “At least this way, you all can renounce the Cavallone name.”

“Like absolute hell would we let you take the fall!” Croix boomed, peeking his laptop’s microphone and leaving a static buzz.

Romario stood from his chair, “I cannot agree to those terms! Even if the Cavallone falls, I will not leave you, Boss.”

“Unless you have some secret Cavallone blood in your veins, you won’t be much of a prize,” Dino huffed, “But thank you.”

“Okay, I’m in,” the Stablemaster said, and Romario’s head snapped around.

“You can’t be serious! On those terms!?”

“No, dumbass, those terms are utter horseshit, but he’s proved his conviction. So I’ll bite,” the Stablemaster, the man who called all the final shots on the horses of the Cavallone and the only one who could undermine the Don, turned to look at Dino. “The Cavallone will go down kicking.”

The Vault Keeper turned her hooded head to Dino and said in a voice all raspy and old as ash, “Little Dino, we will never leave you to pay for the mistakes we did not help avoid. Do not say as much again.”

It was cold and scolding, like the distant aunt the Cavallone Vault Keeper was. The Keeper of the Cavallone’s treasures and secrets. She would have never left her station.

“Right,” Dino smiled, feeling warm to the core. “I meant no insult. But my argument still stands.”

The Vault Keeper looked to the Stablemaster, Head of Housekeeping and Romario. Croix sat silent in his chair.

“I’ve already said my stance,” the Stablemaster shrugged, “I’m in. The boy Boss knows what he wants, and he wants to race. So long as the horses are safe, I’m happy to let them out of their stables.”

Romario huffed as he dropped back into his chair, fixing his suit jacket, “I support the Boss’ plan to race.”

“It’s a risk,” the Head of Housekeeping said softly, “Keeping up the salaries of the house’s staff will be difficult.”

“Of course, we’ll cut back where we can to keep them paid,” Dino assured, and the man nodded. Dino had always made sure their staff was paid, it was one of the highest priorities. “I’m sure there are some functions on the estate that can be put on hold. Please, make a list of what you think can be done without, and we’ll work through cutting it.”

“...Very well,” he said, slightly ashen.

Dino gazed upon the man who had taught him to button his shirts, and cleaned up after him every time clumsy little Dino made a mess.

“When you get the chance, please, get those trophies out from the attic. They shouldn’t be hidden, let them be on display again, as they should be.”

The Head of Housekeeping blinked at Dino, before he smiled, his grey, wrinkled face softening.

“As you wish, Boss.”

The Vault Keeper sat still again, utterly unmoving. Then she sighed, nearly slumped over as she bowed under the weight of her decision.

“Little Dino, I hope you know what you’re getting us into. I never wanted you to become a gambler.”

“Just this once, I promise,” Dino smiled, “And a few more times after we win.”

‘After’. When, not if.

The Vault Keeper scoffed at Dino.

Then everyone turned their attention to the last man yet to speak: Croix, the Ninth Rain Guardian and representative of all the Cavallone Guardians. He sat there, seemingly staring through the screen and far away.

Dino clenched his fists on his knees out of frame of the camera. He hated seeing his zio like this. Guardians could only outlive their Harmony with so much grace.

“Uncle Croix?” Dino urged gently.

Croix’s clouded eyes lit up with awareness as he came back to himself. He glanced around the screen, taking in those faces that were looking at him expectantly. Dino smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring.

“Whatever you want to do, Dino, your uncles will support you,” Croix said, “I’ve never seen a Cavallone horse race, either. We are long overdue — just, don’t make betting your life a habit.”

Dino grinned sheepishly, and his heart felt bright.

“That said,” the Stablemaster interjected, and something in his tone made Dino’s stomach tighten. “If we’re going to do this, we do it properly, Boss.”

Dino nodded, “Of course, I don’t plan to do this half-cocked. As you allow, I’d like to use our best-performing horses.”

The best of the Cavallone’s prized herd. Their fastest, their most enduring.

The Stablemaster crossed his arms, lined with hair and thin scars.

“Then you’ll be asking for Glory.”

Dino’s smile went thin. He nodded.

“Yes, Glory is at the top of the list. She is our best horse.”

Romario glanced at Dino.

Croix lowered his eyes to his lap, his face carefully blank. Every breath he took was slow and measured.

“Understand me, Dino Cavallone, if you allow anything to happen, or treat her anyway less than she deserves, I will withdraw my support immediately,” the Stablemaster promised, his voice laced with warning.

Dino swallowed thickly. If the Stablemaster pulled out, everything Dino had worked for would come undone within hours. As soon as the Stablemaster called for it, every Cavallone horse would come home.

All for Glory.

For a moment, Dino remembered the thundering of hooves, the frantic screams, a sick bed, the stinging scent of antiseptic.

An empty bed, the sheets clean and pressed flat. The room utterly still.

Dino let out a long breath, and pushed aside those thoughts and the burn in the back of his throat.

“Of course, Stablemaster,” Dino said solemnly, purposefully. “I assure you, Glory will be safe and treated with the best care we can afford our horses moving forward.”

The Stablemaster stared at Dino, scrutinising him down to the bone. Then he nodded, one stiff, sure nod.

“On your head, Boss,” he said.

“On my head,” Dino agreed softly.

No one in the room spoke, the silence stretching and strangeling everyone on the call. Dino shook his head and sat up to address the Head of Housekeeping.

“Please organise that list on the estate budget cuts, and send it to me as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Boss,” the elderly man said.

“Vault Keeper, please keep an eye on our finances throughout. Alert us immediately if you notice something awry. We can’t allow for mistakes.”

“Very well,” she responded.

“Stablemaster, please compile a list of our best horses, and everything you believe they will need during and after transport.”

“It’ll be extensive, they're picky bastards.”

“I’m sure we can handle it,” Dino assured, “Romario, you will be my proxy, as always. Please help where you can and keep things running smoothly. We cannot let the other Families get wind of this.”

“Of course, Boss,” Romario nodded, and Dino nearly wheezed in relief.

Where would he be without Romario?

Then Dino looked to Croix, who sat watching the flurry with a look of… Nostalgia. Pride. Pain.

“Uncle Croix,” Dino said, and the man sat to attention like all those times the Ninth had called upon him. “Please watch out for yourself and my other uncles. I want you all in good health when we hold a Cavallone-style celebration.”

Croix blinked. Then he let out a booming laugh that Dino had heard throughout his childhood.

“Right! Right! Gotta get these beer bellies fitting back in their suits! Give us some time, won’t you, Dino? Don’t go winning too fast?”

“Bah, you’ll need to cut more than the beer to get back into your suits! Dino, you should budget their cheese, too!” The Stablemaster heckled, and Croix gasped hard enough to choke.

“My cheese is lite!”

“Light in colour maybe! I’ve seen you scarf that down!”

Dino laughed as Croix vehemently defended his ‘sampling’ of the local delicacies.

“It puts money back into the local economy!”

“But Croix,” the Head of Housekeeping uttered, a concerned and amused pinch to his brow that spoke of the years he had spent herding Croix and his fellow Set when they were just young men. “Didn’t you develop an intolerance to lactose recently? The doctor said as much.”

Croix thinned his lips and refused to respond.

The Meeting wound to a close, and everyone had their orders.

The Cavallone horses would race again, under the crest of their Tenth Generation.

Dino closed his laptop with a weary and utterly stressed sigh. He slumped back into his couch and scratched his nails through his hair.

He had done it. The first Family Meeting as Don, and he had actually done it! He had convinced the Family to go along with this stupid, ride-or-die plan! Jesus Christ, Dino needed a drink. He was craving Pepsi, the kind he had drunk with Vic.

A steady thump, thump, thump sounded through the walls, the bass beat made the floors vibrate. Dino glanced to his windows — one of his neighbours had a party going.

The clock on Dino’s phone glared that it was nearly 10PM. Dino yawned and stood from his divot in the couch, scanning the floor for where Enzo had crawled off to. Then he heard it.

A soft ‘clink, chunk’ and repeat.

Dino listened to the jangle and crunch, and let out a soft groan of, “Enzo, why me? I wanna go to sleep so badly!”

Enzo peered from around the bedroom doorway with a soft wheeze. Dino picked his phone from the table and typed up a text to Romario, taking a drink from his cup as he did. Someone was trying to break into Dino’s dormhouse.

Dino put aside his glass and scooped Enzo up off the floor as he made his way back to his bedroom, turning off the lights as he did. He closed his bedroom door and felt the faintest clunk as the latch fell into place and a jimmy-rigged security system swung into activity.

Dino had been tutored by Reborn, after all. He had to learn something from the PTSD.

Dino followed his bedtime routine. He changed into some light pyjamas, washed his slightly sweaty face, brushed his teeth and crawled into bed, Enzo cuddled up against his chest. Right over the heart.

Dino closed his eyes, let out a long breath and listened. The crunch of dried gum leaves out near the back porch. The metallic groan as someone mounted the porch railing. The soft, muffled crack of glass.

Dino continued to breathe, slow and unhurried. He needed his would-be hitman deeper in his house. Dino clutched the handle of his whip, coiled under the blankets with him.

Footsteps over the tile, and disappeared on the rug. Breath outside the bedroom door.

All Dino’s interior doors opened inwards. Dino had to wait.

The door unlatched. The person peered in through a crack. The tip of Dino’s whip caught them in the eye.

Dino untangled himself from his sheets, watching the man stumble back, clutching his face. Dino almost sympathised with the guy, he had been whipped in the eye more times than he — or Romario — could count.

The would-be assailant stumbled blindly, before giving a sharp gasp as he felt a tug at his clothes. Dino had learnt much from Reborn, and from personal experience, nothing threw someone off like having the threat of indecent exposure during an otherwise serious situation.

The man fumbled with his shredding pants, hooks and wires ripping and peeling at his suit, eyes red and watering.

Dino stood — and promptly planted his face into the hard weave of the floor rug. Dino groaned. He should have known this was going too well. He heaved himself to his feet, cradling his carpet-burnt nose.

The man pulled himself free from the last of the hooks, cameo-print briefs on display and belt clinging to the last scraps of a waistband.

Dino reeled his whip back and lashed it across the man’s bared thigh. It didn’t wrap around like Dino had hoped, but it made the man buckle to the floor with a muted gasp again.

He was being quiet. Being careful not to alert Dino’s neighbours. But the beat and thump of music from a few doors down told Dino that the majority of his neighbours were either too busy partying away the last hours of a Friday night, or trying to drown it out, to notice.

Better for him, honestly. The crack of a whip wasn’t exactly covert.

The man hissed between his teeth and pulled his weapon of choice from his pocket. Wire glinted and strained in his leather-gloved hands. He lunged, wire tight and Rino pulled his whip across his face.

He could hear the wire pluck at the leather of his whip, but it never bit through. Something birthed from Leon would never buckle that easily.

Dino gritted his teeth and kicked at the man’s knees. He went down with a sickening crack and his knees bowing like a bird’s.

The hitman threw something at Dino from the floor, and Dino swallowed a cry as some kind of powder, hot and irritating, coated his face. Dino pressed his lips and eyes shut, and didn’t dare to breathe, wiping his face with his shirt. Dino fumbled and kicked as he felt hands and wire reach for his ankles.

His face burnt, and Dino tasted something acrid and bitter on the tip of his tongue. Every one of his senses begged Dino to get it off, wash it off, do something.

Dino scrubbed at his lips and around his nose, desperate to breathe again. He charged forward, palming at the walls and feeling the way to the bathroom. Something pulled at Dino’s ankles, the sound of wire pulled taut and a small, sharp pain was his only warning before Dino went toppling into the living room.

His shoulder crashed into the coffee table and the cup Dino had left to ‘future him’ tipped over and splashed directly into his face. Dino sputtered and spat, before finally taking a sweet, lungful of air. He could still taste the remnants of that powder, but he could breathe. Dino palmed at the tabletop and wiped his face with the pooled water.

He peered an eye open, and immediately felt the tear-inducing burn. He gritted his teeth and bore it as the blurry figure of his hitman crawled its way towards Dino.

Dino scrambled to his feet and grabbed his whip.

The man lunged, sprung from his one good leg. He caught Dino around the middle and the two crashed into the wall console, the dying pot plant dropped and shattered on the carpet.

Dino struggled as the man tried to press his wire against Dino’s throat. Dino kicked his knee again and felt the bone move under his toes. The man reeled back, mouth agape in a silent scream.

Dino wrapped his whip around the man’s throat and yanked tight.

#fanfiction #khr #leftnotright #ao3 #katekyo hitman reborn #dino cavallone #oc #canon divergence #alternate universe

7 notes · View notes

nancypullen · 1 year

Text

It’s DERBY DAY!!!

Late last night I baked a few cupcakes so that the little miss and I could decorate them this morning. The cupcake liners are red roses (run for the roses) and the decor speaks for itself. Here’s hoping that they taste better than they look.

After breakfast I started a pork butt in the slow cooker so that we can have a Derby dinner of pulled pork. I’m throwing together a broccoli salad and a couple of other things, keeping it simple so I can sit down and enjoy the race. Crossing my fingers that my gray horse wins. I never bet enough to get rich, but if Tapit Trice wins I will be placing a healthy Sephora order. Wrinkle cream ain’t cheap. It also ain’t working, but that’s a story for another day. Around 10 o’clock we ladies went to Easton to paint pottery. Before departing Tennessee a dear pal gave me a gift certificate to Kiln Born Creations. Painting pottery and chatting was a favorite past time of ours in Mt. Juliet and her card said to use the gift to create special memories with the grandgirl. I didn’t intend to wait this long to use it, but between Covid, kidney stones, her 4 year old attention span, etc we did end up waiting. I’m so glad we did. Today Little Miss Magic and I painted a fairy house for her garden. She believes in fairies with all her heart and is convinced she’ll have tenants. I’m going to have to order some tiny shoes or items of clothing to drop inside from time to time. She’ll know they’ve been there.

Once it’s fired those colors will become brilliant and glossy. I think any fairy would be happy to live there.

Can we take a moment to appreciate that adorable dress?

That little Peter Pan collar and the blue waist sash - swoon! My sister made that dress for her daughter twenty plus years ago. She has gifted me with dresses, a kuspuk (also handmade), dance recital outfits, scads of American Girl dolls, clothes, and equipment, and books. Aunt Cathi is an absolute celebrity in my grandgirl’s eyes. When we see a car that even slightly resembles hers, she’ll sigh and say, “I wish that was Aunt Cathi coming to visit.” She’s a fan. Me too.

Right now I’m actually home alone. The gang went off to an animal festival sponsored by Caroline County’s Humane Society. There’s supposed to be live music, food trucks, alpacas and other interesting animals, fun booths for kids, dogs doing tricks and chasing lures, and lots more. I declared that they should go on without me because I still had some meal prep to do, which I truly did need to do if I intend to enjoy the Kentucky Derby. That didn’t take long and now I’m tapping away on the ol’ blog and talking to you. I may have gotten the better end of the deal. I hope they come home with an alpaca. We can add it to the squirrel that is currently residing in our garage and refusing to leave. I’m not sure when he got trapped in there, but he tore up the blinds at one window trying to get out. Mickey cracked the big garage door, but apparently Steve the Squirrel has gotten pretty comfy where we store the bird seed. He was heading toward the door at one point and Mickey raised it which spoked him and he ran back into the shelving. When we came home from Easton and painting pottery I was assured that Steve has gone. I don’t think I believe it. I don’t want to go into the garage to grab gardening stuff or spray paint something and end up with a squirrel in my hair. It doesn’t do any good to demand that he show himself, he won’t do it. I asked Mickey why he thinks the squirrel is gone and he said (and I quote), “Because I saw one that looked just like him run across the street.” This man can’t tell the difference between Ann Margaret and Lucille Ball (”Well, they both have red hair.”) but expects me to believe he can ID a squirrel at twenty yards. Steve is probably behind the shelves raising a family right now. But I can’t think about that right now. I’ve got DERBY plans. The more I do now, the more likely I’ll be able to watch the most exciting two minutes in sports. I’m going to tune in early to ooh and ahh over the hats, listen to the crowd sing My Old Kentucky Home, and get chills when I hear the “Riders up!” call. I love it all. Even if I’m not a winner today (Forte is still the favorite), I’m having a ball. Hope your Saturday is relaxing and that you have as much fun as you’d like. That may mean a big outing or an afternoon nap. Your call. Sending out love, grab some if you need it. Stay safe, stay well, RIDERS UP! XOXO - Nancy

2 notes · View notes

pugpugpusheen · 2 years

Text

Title: The Meeting

Rated: G

Characters: Noodle and Ace

Summary: Noodle and Ace meet for the first time at the derby

Noodle adjusted her cowboy hat as she waited in the crowd. She and Ace had agreed to meet at the Kentucky Horse Derby, more so that she was in the public with other eyes around than anything else. She looked at her cellphone. Ten more minutes he has until their meeting time. She looked over the crowd. The place was practically packed, but while scouting she saw somebody tall and green walking towards her. Waving her hand in the air the person spotted her and sped up. When he reached her he held a hand out and looked down at her.

“Ace Copular. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

Noodle looked him up and down, noting that he was dressed in casual clothes and had slicked back hair. She firmly took his hand and shook.

“Noodle from Gorillaz. Nice to meet you too, Ace.”

After letting go of his hand she put her hands on her hips and stared at him. Nothing screamed to her of seeming out of place besides the fact that he was green. She could actually smell a nice scent of cologne coming off of him. It smelled cheap, but it was cologne none-the-less. His sunglasses were pointy and looked expensive. She frowned.

“Take off your sunglasses.”

Ace looked taken aback, but did as he was told and stared down at her with a smile. She looked up into his eyes. They were black just like his hair, but just as the eyes are the soul of the heart she couldn’t see an ill-will towards her. She waved her hand at him and looked back at the track. Ace looked confused, but put his sunglasses back on and looked towards where she was facing.

Ace looked down at Noodle. She had a frown on her face with her hands in her pockets as she stared out at the tracks. He had heard stories of Noodle from Murdoc, but what he imagined and what was presented in front of him were not matching up. He fiddled with his sunglasses and looked back to the track.

“Sorry doll, but the horses aren’t comin’ out yet. Too soon.”

“Never call me doll again.”

“So how do you know Murdoc?”

Ace smiled before talking, moving his hands around as he spoke.

Ace looked back at her, hands wringing together as he tried to think back on those days in jail with Murdoc.

“Oh we met back in jail. Real cool guy. Y'know he's the whole reason I started playin' bass. Big idol 'cause we're both green an' bad guys yet he still got all the fame so maybe I can too.”

As he finished talking he noticed Noodle was looking at him. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked off to the side. Noodle nodded her head.

“What else have you heard from Murdoc?”

“The know-it-all is Russel and the nitwit is 2D, who you will be answering to because he’s creating the next album.”

“Well, he said that there’s two other schmucks in the band. Don’t remember their names, but he said one’s a real know-it-all an’ the other is a nitwit.”

Noodle sighed and pinched her nose. She had thought this Ace person was lying about having met Murdoc, but what he spoke sounds just like what he would say.

Ace’s mouth dropped. Hands started moving around in a flurry as he loudly spoke.

“You mean I gotta take orders from a numbskull like that?! How can he even write an album? I was told he’s just a pretty boy cover for the band!”

“Keep your voice down or else we’re through”

Ace covered his mouth with his hands. Noodle looked back at him with a glare.

“If you’re going to be acting as a substitute for Murdoc then you will show everybody respect. Whatever Murdoc has told you about Russel and 2D throw it out because they are nothing like he has said.”

She sighed and adjusted her hat.

“Russel believes in conspiracy theories. He reads a lot. He wants to save mankind. 2D…” she paused, looking up at the clouds for a moment and then back at Ace, “2D is in his own world. He means well, but sometimes messes up, but that’s okay. He has us to help him when he screws up.”

Noodle softly smiled, hands clasping behind her back. Ace stared down at her. This was the perfect image of Noodle that he had envisioned. A small girl with a heart of gold. He nodded his head.

“Got it. I’ll treat them as best as I can. Not makin’ any promises, but for you I’ll do it.”

Noodle nodded, then heard some voice over the speakers.

“Sounds like the races are about to start.”

Ace let out a whooping sound and stared at the track. Noodle could practically feel him vibrating. Grabbing his sleeve, she started shoving her way through the crowd with Ace following. As they got to the guard rail the gates opened for the horses. Ace gasped at the sight of them. Noodle looked up at him, excitement written all over his face.

She had a good feeling this arrangement was going to work out.

#fanfiction #noodle #ace copular #gorillaz

7 notes · View notes

theevangelion · 2 years

Text

Soulmates: Chapter XIX

(Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18)

Lena felt a little guilty as she stared down at the sandwich in her hand.

Not for the morning spent teasing Kara breathless and panting but for the lie she had told after.

Then again it was straight out of Kara’s old playbook. Not technically a lie but just a little bit of missing context.

Lena didn’t go to work; not right away at least. That was the main thing she felt conflicted about. She had known for some time she wasn’t going to work because Thursday mornings had become a period for constantly reliable out of office engagement.

A short interim of time spent elsewhere, nothing salacious, sometimes an hour, sometimes four, and she didn’t really talk about it to anyone.

At first, Lena didn’t mention it because she thought it might awaken something painful for Kara. That feeling passed. It solidified and became its own secret, just for the sake of having a secret to keep between old friends, silly, fun, and little more than that.

She had been meaning to talk to Kara about it.

She just didn’t know how anymore.

“It does look like bunny ears,” Cat agreed.

“You want half?” Lena offered the other one forward.

“With respect, I would rather try and perform fellatio on a horse running the Kentucky Derby.” Cat’s eyes came to the side again, smirking at the paltry excuse of a sandwich, then back to the television. “Salmonella written all over it.”

“I know, I said the same.” Lena sighed and leaned back in the plastic chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know,” Cat sighed. “Me too.”

“You don’t want…” Lena wasn’t even sure what there was to offer. “I can’t get you anything?”

“A magic bullet to rewrite the faulty genetic code that is causing cells to uncontrollably divide and spread into the healthy tissue of my body?” Cat suggested. “Did you pack that with your sandwiches this morning?”

“Forgot it on the kitchen table, sorry.” Lena shrugged and earned a grin. “Cat?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Cat sat there, unbothered by it, in her perfectly Catherine Grant kind of way. There she was in a hospital bed drowning in the size of the gown, some inches too big, still growing bigger by the day, yet still so immaculate and beautiful.

There was this power she held in her hands, even like this, it simply exuded from her; to sit there with an IV pole, dangling chest port, with this certain pronounced thinness from the treatment, and yet she was beautiful in a way that announced itself—demanded it from the eye of the beholder.

Fierce, dignified, highlighter and blush on her cheeks because she still held herself to that standard, and Lena could tell that her blonde hair had been cut and styled, blown out, some pride put into it despite…

Lena didn’t want to acknowledge that Cat’s hair was thinner than last Thursday, but it was. Cat didn’t care, for as long as she had it, she would make the best of it, the most of it, and that was yet another perfectly Catherine Grant thing to do given the circumstances.

“Cat?”

“If you tell me that you love me again—”

“I do.” Lena nodded, solemn, exasperated, staring at nothing. “You are…one of my best friends. You are the person who was there every day, when Sam died, when I was sick and in the hospital after, you killed every hit piece dead in the water—never said a single thing in the magazine despite knowing all the big scoops. I hate things feel weird between us, I hate that you don’t call or text anymore. I hate that we’re not talking about the elephant in the room because you are—were—my best friend.”

“And yet here you are, despite all of this supposed disconnect from my end, every week, more reliable and on time than a German train service.” Cat’s eyes twinkled with amusement, though she never looked away from the television. “Lena, I don’t call or text because I’m…” She gestured at herself, at the room, as though it was arrogant for Lena to assume some priority above it in her thought processes. “Listen, I don’t know what elephant you think there is but if you want to talk about it you should talk about it.”

“Kara.”

“Nope.” Cat shook her head.

“You’re soulmates.”

“We may very well have been,” Cat quietly agreed in a way that was non-committal to the idea, then shrugged and finally looked at her friend. “Here’s the thing, Lena. We can play what if games, we can go round in circles, talk about hypotheticals where I have some long years ahead of me, where Kara is…” She shook her head, as though wanting to say something based and cruel, yet struggling to find something.

That was very unlike Cat Grant.

“She does this thing, you know.” Lena stared off to the side, thinking about it, smiling despite how sad it made her feel. “We’ll be doing something, watching television, eating dinner, whatever. I’ll say something. She doesn’t reply. Then I look and she’s…” Lena gestured at nothing. “She’s away in some daydream, with this vacant look on her face, and I know she’s playing out a different life—some life she says that she doesn’t think about despite very much, constantly, always running away from anything that makes her think about it. She just sort of comes back to life, and there’s this look in her eyes, as though she’s looking at me but seeing…”

Lena didn��t know how to say it.

She didn’t want to say it because then she would be admitting it.

But she gestured.

And Cat understood.

“Lena.” Cat gestured her hands for the rambler to slow down on her rapid, nervous rabbiting. “It sounds as though you care a whole lot more than either of us do and for that I can only apologise.”

“I am objectively the person who should be apologising to you.”

“That won’t be necessary. I sincerely am sorry that I have…become an imagined competitor in your relationship with Kara Danvers. I want you to be happy. I want Kara to be happy. I want that for you both because me?” She stared very seriously. “I have had the happiest, biggest, greatest of lives. I regret nothing. I wish for nothing. If I am supposed to be sat here, filled with regret, then I’m not.”

“I’m not Kara, Cat.” Lena pushed forward slightly. “I know you well enough, for long enough, that I know when you’re talking out of your ass.”

“Then ask me whatever it is you really want to ask me, Lena.” Cat closed her eyes and sighed.

“Did you…” Lena stopped, because she didn’t want to ask, she just wanted the answer so that if ever Kara wanted to know, one day, then someone would have answers to give her. “Did you feel some pull, some awareness? People say that but I wouldn’t know. I just, I’m curious?”

Cat opened her eyes and looked at Lena with a faint, vague expression that couldn’t be deduced. It wasn’t displeasure but it wasn’t a happy memory.

“I felt drawn to her, yes.” Cat nodded. “I think…a week after she started with the temp agency? I realised I was having to force myself to call her Keira. I knew her name, and I don’t know names, not assistants at least.”

“That doesn’t sound very romantic.”

“Because it isn’t.”

“Do you love her?” Lena blurted.

That took Cat back more than a little. She blinked, then blinked again. Lena felt guilty because the answer wasn’t for Kara. It was selfish, it was necessary, it was something she herself wanted to understand, because how could Cat possibly not love that girl?

More than that, Lena didn’t feel jealousy, just this faint sense of unselfish purpose to somehow give everyone a little of whatever they needed. Mostly because she felt greedy, as though there had been an abundance in her life, a prolonged series of habitual good things, despite the fact it wasn’t true. Her wife had died. She had grieved it then, still grieved it now, but there was joy, and her love with Kara didn’t feel like a band aid. It felt like a breath of life. It felt like this good, insular thing where she might make a home for the rest of her life.

But, Lena knew what she had been seeing as time had gone on.

She knew because she used to do the same thing, staring off, losing herself, playing house with Sam long after she passed, wondering about a life that would never take root. The trouble was that Kara still had time to know things, hold it in her hands, have moments beyond the realm of her imagination, and Lena felt it was be selfish—repugnant—to deny her of that.

To deny either of them that small moment in time to just have whatever the universe wanted to give them.

“Your lack of answer is an answer,” Lena told her straight. “I’m not asking because I’m hoping for one or the other. I’m asking because…we’re too old, too jaded, and too fucking deep into this thing not to talk about it?” She rolled her eyes at her friend.

Cat sighed and looked at her manicure resting in her lap.

“She is a very pretty girl.” Cat smiled to herself. “She reminds me of myself when I was younger. It’s not the sweetness, it’s the fury, every now and then her eyes would…” Cat imitated Kara’s expression, eyes narrowing with tension, angry and righteously laser-focused. “I know you won’t believe me but there isn’t some pointed, obsessive attraction. I don’t think I’m supposed to have a soulmate, Lena, because the truth of the matter is that I like women, a little, sure, but I have always preferred men because they are stupid and well-behaved, and Kara Danvers is neither of those things.”

“Please talk to her?” Lena shut her eyes and pleaded.

“I don’t want to make this situation any worse than it—”

“Please,” Lena begged between tight, uncomfortable lips. “Cat, please let her know you a little better. I want to spend my life with her. I want to be the woman who is rock solid and there when she needs me the most. You—” Lena felt a dampness on her cheeks because it hurt, not just for Kara, but her heart too, Cat was her true friend.

“Well go on.” Cat snarked, smiling a little. “Don’t quit just before you start blowing smoke up my ass. You were saying?”

“I was saying, you royal bitch.” They both chuckled and staved off some differing sized rocks in their throats. “You are bowing out in a way only you ever could, you know? A little too early, but still in your own time, with everyone on baited breath hoping for an encore because you are Catherine fucking Grant.” There was such fierce respect in the way she said that name. “I do not know how I am supposed to compete with you, Cat, at some point after the dust settles when she starts to put you on the pedestal. I do not know how to explain and talk about my friend, to the girl I love, knowing that she is falling in love with some version of you in the back of her brain.”

“Kara Danvers will never put me on a pedestal. I think, personally, for her to have my name on her ass cheek?” Cat lifted a brow and thought about it. “Well, she is the person consecrated by the universe to not put me on the pedestal. Everyone else does, seems only right that she wouldn’t.”

“She is twenty-three, but she won’t be always.” Lena shrugged. “What the fuck am I going to do when she’s thirty, forty, then fifty, and she stops and looks around and realises she’s closer to you than she ever was when you were alive? I mean, fuck, dude, don’t do that to me?” Lena scowled at her best friend.

“Lena,” Cat cleared her throat. “I don’t want you to worry.”

“I’m worried.”

“Then shut up and stop worrying.” Cat levelled. “Jesus Christ. Only you. Only fucking you could step on to an oncology unit and feel like you have the right to be upset and wronged by the world. Yes, fine, I will write a letter or something. Just, please can you leave now?” Cat made her laugh without meaning too. She grinned despite herself, rubbing her temples. “Go. Bring actual food next week, and champagne, two bottles, something corked before we were born.”

“Cat?”

“I know,” Cat shooed, “You too.”

#soulmates #soulmate au #soulmate marks #supercorp #supercorp au #supercorp soulmate au #supercorp soulmates #supercorp femslash #supercorp story #supercorp fic #supercorp fan fic #supercorp fanfic #supercorp love story #kara x lena #lena x kara #theevangelion #cat grant #catherine grant

5 notes · View notes

the-real-tc · 2 years

Text

Review: Heartland Season 15 Finale: Leaving a Legacy

I'll keep this (relatively) short and sweet.

I loved the finale. I cannot believe Season 15 has sped by so quickly, so thanks are once again in order to the entire cast and crew who stuck out some incredibly grueling conditions to make it happen. Your efforts are fully appreciated.

First things: I am so pleased I was right about how Amy would use her "windfall". Naming the Centre after Ty was really the only logical thing to do. Now kids like him will get another shot at a future, just like he did at Heartland. I made comparisons years ago between Heartland and another old Canadian TV series "Neon Rider", but I think enough time has passed since that show was on the air to keep up that comparison, and the Dr. Ty Borden Equestrian Therapy Centre is bound to be its own unique thing.

On a related note: the character of Logan has been a revelation this season. Drew Davis is extremely charming in the role, and I like the ultimatum Clint gave him, which bodes well for the character to return for potential future seasons.

Secondly: I've always been "Team Peter", so it was great hearing Lou say the things she said about their relationship, and it was great hearing Katie's heartfelt words about how her camping trip with her mother went down. (Baye McPherson is rocking the role as Katie 4.0!) It seems all Lou needed was someone like Rick in her life to call her out on her B.S. and force her to confront her true feelings. (Rick's facial expression when he left Lou's office to make Lou and PW finally hash it out... LOL, Aidan, you campy idiot! 🤣)

Third: I wish there had been more time in this short 10-episode season for a good lead-up to the Platinum Bow storyline. I would have liked to have felt more anxiety for the horse's race. Winning the Kentucky Derby is no small feat, but it sort of felt like any other race he might have won. But Yay, Lisa, and Yay, Fairfield Stables, and Yay, Carlos, jockey-in-the-waiting. (I imagine the photo they teased earlier of Jack and Lisa toasting each other at Heartland was a post-Derby celebration. Alas, another cutting room floor scene for JISA fans to lament... le sigh.)

Fourth: Jess has been avoiding phone calls since coming back from selling her condo in NYC, and Tim is suspicious, especially after he picks up her phone and it's a doctor calling... It's almost a replay of when Lisa had a health scare a few seasons ago. Thankfully, Jess is clear, just as Lisa was, so disaster averted.

All through Season 15, I've been wondering about the very curious choices in how the moon phases were depicted. It's like it was always a full moon, regardless of the time of the month. Now I get it: the moon is a reference to Lyndy's moon drawing, and her line that it's her Dada—Ty. The moon hanging over Heartland is symbolic of Ty's presence hovering over his loved ones, which was felt very strongly this episode with Amy's discovery of his final anniversary present. Someone started chopping a bunch of onions in my room when Amy read Ty's card, so I'm sure I missed a few important words, but it was great that Graham Wardle was able to provide some voiceover work for that scene.

Okay, I lied about keeping this short, but it's shorter than my usual treatises.

Overall, I've loved Season 15 and the "maturity" level of the stories. There were some serious issues, and I feel like several characters were *finally* given permission to say things and do things they were previously unable to do and say, either out of plot contrivance or sloppy writing.

I certainly hope we get a 16th season, because I have to admit I have long lived with the thought Heartland would call it quits at 15, if it was ever granted that long a life. There are still lots of stories to tell, because Heartland is about life, and life goes on. Life goes on even when loved ones leave or pass away. We might not like change, but change is what makes life interesting.

So thanks once again to everyone involved with bringing this show to our screens, and blessings to Jessica Steen, aka Lisa Stillman, who celebrates her 56th birthday today (Dec. 19).

29 notes · View notes

vanderlindemorgans · 3 years

Text

Cross My Heart (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings: heavy drinking, someones arm gets broken, also some very vague mentions of a shootout, reader is in denial about being in denial (so the usual pretty much)

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

You thought it would just be one coffee. One simple mistake as a result of you being extra tired, or something like that. You’d give it to him, hear his stupid little remark meant to rile you up, and then it’d be done - it would never happen again.

Here’s the thing, though: you kept making more. After that day, every morning when you woke up, you’d grab two coffee mugs and make one for the both of you - yours with extra cream, his straight black. You knew he liked to add a shot of whiskey to his, even though you pretended not to notice when he not-so-discreetly pulled his flask out. Whatever he needed to get through the day, you shrugged, watching him out of the corner of your eye. You certainly weren’t about to judge him for his drinking habits in light of your own less than stellar track record.

Neither of you dared to mention it so far. You hoped to high heaven that he wouldn’t: his little tease on that first day was barely enough to get under your skin though it had stuck to the back of your mind every morning you woke up. You’re not getting soft on him, are you?

Shaking your head furiously, you let out a low frustrated sigh as you moved to reach out for the bottle of wine next to you once more, flicking off the top and pouring almost a good half of the bottle’s contents into your glass. It was a Wednesday night but you didn’t much care - if the hangover was that bad the next morning, and it never usually was with a shiraz, you’d get some painkillers and get on with your day. The same thought as before repeated itself in your mind again, doing nothing short of vexing you further. Partially because you were worried it was true. Maybe you were getting soft on him. Maybe you weren’t as strong and stubborn as you thought if Jack Daniels had managed to worm his way back into your heart.

No. That couldn’t be it. You tossed your head back and indulged yourself in a rather large gulp of wine, letting the liquid rush down your throat in a desperate attempt to dilute the pitiful nonsense that had filled your head. What a ridiculous thought. You weren’t falling for Jack Daniels charm once more. No, you simply wouldn’t do that. You knew better than that. You knew that underneath that smooth facade was a flitting and emotionally unavailable man, the man who had broken your heart and made you suffer for what felt like evermore. You may have felt pity on him for his fall from grace, but anyone else would if they saw the state of him. Discarding the glass off to the side, you wanted to laugh at the simple absurdity of such an idea. Are you always this stupid with a wine-addled brain?

Speaking of the devil, you heard his footsteps from up the stairs, taking you by surprise as you were certain that he was asleep by now. You crocked your head to the side, your eyes travelling up the stairwell to the small part of the landing that was in your immediate vision - you couldn’t catch a single sight of him. Shrugging to yourself, you returned to your almost empty glass of wine, feeling that familiar haze descend over your brain with every sip you took. This was fine. You could let yourself be swallowed by the alcohol, maybe even enjoy the fact that your nerves were loosened for just this once. If it could take all that shit away, then you’d gladly let it. And as for Jack? You’d continue on as you were: barely acknowledging his existence, and regarding him as nothing more than a ghost from your past. That’s what you wanted, right?

You’re lying to yourself and you know it.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you stared out into the space in front of you, your mind lost a million miles away while you were in complete and utter astonishment over those few words that had crossed your mind. Things were quiet, still, even peaceful in a way, only for a second anyhow. That was before the rush came, that incensed anger that flashed across your mind for barely a moment, settling down into something resembling vague annoyance, directed at none other than yourself. Where the hell did that come from? For god's sake, get a grip on yourself. Standing up abruptly, you didn’t even stumble as you advanced back over to the liquor cabinet, dropping to your knees and scanning the tops of the glistening glass bottles under the dim lamp light. Your eyes landed on the bourbon you had stashed at the back and you reached out for it, carefully lifting it above all the others despite your intoxicated state. Resting the bottle against the palm of your hand, you let your fingers trace the grooves in the molded glass, a small bit of hesitation working its way into your mind, hesitation that was swiftly kicked aside in favour of that pesky little buzz that danced around the back of your head, that stupid little crumb of self doubt that refused to fucking leave.

Guess I’m gonna need a bottle of something stronger to kick this shit.

___

He didn’t know why he kept watching you. You weren’t doing anything particularly notable - you’d decided to take one of the horses out for a ride, practicing vaulting and the like. He remembered you’d once told him that as a young kid that you’d entered a number of equestrian competitions, and even won a few - he’d seen the trophies gathering dust on the mantle and the cute photos of you posing with your chosen horse, Buttercup, as a child. You explained years ago that you’d stopped participating in competitions but still liked to take the horses out for a spin every once in a while as a way to relax and clear your head. As he watched you now, he could already see the stressors of the day melting away from your visage, leaving only a steely focused expression in its wake as you cleared another jump.

It was the first time in weeks he’d seen you truly relaxed at all, or showing any sort of emotion other than your usual show of cheerfulness you splashed on for the customers, woven with a current of underlying stress and irritation. Seeing you like this couldn’t help but remind him of better times: you’d taken him out on the horses more than a couple of times when the two of you were together. Jack had always labelled himself as something of an animal lover, ever since he was a kid. He didn’t, and hadn’t, had any pets for a good ten years now though at some point long ago he wanted something similar to what you had - a nice ranch situated out in his home state of Kentucky with a bunch of animals and his family. That dream had seemed so close to him once that he could have sworn it would be a reality yet fate wasn’t so kind to him in that regard. The memory of it all alone hadn’t ceased to become any less painful to him: seeing the broadcast on the news of a shootout down at a local convenience store only to get the call moments later confirming what he’d already feared to have happened most.

Not a day passed where he didn’t wish he could go back to a time before that day, where even the simple idea of having a family didn’t seem so foreign and unattainable. He felt himself grip onto the wooden bar of the veranda just a tad bit tighter the longer his thoughts fixated on it, though the sound of a piercing shriek immediately brought his attention back to you, his eyes darting around in a frenzy, determined to know what had caused you to cry out in agonising pain. Upon seeing your body lain flat on the ground he rushed forward, vaulting himself over the edge of the varanda and calling out your name. “Are you alright, sugar?” he shouted, throwing open the gate to the ring and racing over towards where you were lying. The faint sounds of you whimpering did nothing short of send him into panic mode, seeing how much it hurt you to move only adding to his worry. “I’m fine, I just...the dumb horse got spooked by something and bucked me off” you groaned, struggling to pull yourself up, leading you to let out another loud yelp when you tried to move your left arm.

Swooping in to catch you before you fell, Jack gently reached for your arm and pulled it towards him, his eyes widening the moment he caught sight of the horrific fracture done to it. “Darlin’, don’t lie to me, you’re not fine. Arms are not meant to look like this!” he stressed, studying your eyes intensely, trying to gauge if you had some sort of a concussion. They were slightly glazed over, and your gaze kept wandering from him as if you were having trouble focusing. “How’s your head feelin’, sweetheart?”.

“Kinda dazed. Hurts like a bitch as well” you grumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder slightly. Every bone in your body felt like it was screaming at you like some sort of symphony, the pain in your arm being the worst of all. Your vision had also become slightly blurry and kept splitting double every few seconds, only contributing to your general haziness. Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, scattered around your brain and refusing to slow down. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and up into Jack’s arms, your head lolling slightly against his forearm as he carried you back up to the house. Running through your memory, you couldn’t really remember what had happened fully: you had just made another jump and were circling around the ring to gain speed for another when suddenly you were on the ground and your horse, Molly, was a few feet ahead of you.

Jack brought you up to the varanda and laid you down on the bench, grabbing one of the old decorative throw pillows you had to rest your head on.“Stay here for a moment, I’m gonna get you some ice, then I’m gonna call an ambulance and get ya to an emergency room” he instructed before ducking back inside the house.

“Is that really necessary, Jack?” you shouted out after him, leading him to stick his head back out the door to look at you incredulously. “Sweetheart, your arm is broken and you're clearly concussed. I think the situation more than calls for it” he replied with a deadpan tone, disappearing back into your house to find you some ice. Resting your head back against the pillows, you turned to see Molly trotting around near the edge of the fenceline, acting as if she hadn’t just thrown you off her back for no apparent reason at all.

“Yeah, just had to buck me off, didn’t ya? Thanks asshole!” you shouted out, doing your best to ignore the persistent throbbing in the side of your head and the dull ache from where your arm was rested. Thankfully, partially due to the concussion probably, it didn’t feel as bad as before, though at the same time you could have just simply become more tolerant of the pain. Not to say it didn’t still hurt like literal hell or that it was any less easy to take notice of.

“Honeybee, I get you’re in pain but yelling at the horse isn’t doing anything” you heard Jack say to you as he made his entrance once more, holding a tea towel containing several large blocks of ice in his hand. Muttering out a small ‘thank you’, you took the towel in your hands and pressed it against the swell of your arm, letting out a small hiss the second you felt the sharp sting of the cold on your skin. “I know yelling at the horse does nothing, but it’s making me feel better” you grumbled.

“Is it? Is it really?” Jack scoffed, subsequently choosing to ignore the sharp death glare you gave him after his flippant remark. “I’ve called an ambulance, they’ll be here to get you to a proper hospital in no time. You really had me worried there when I heard you scream”.

“Oh, so you do care about me after all” you jeered, your signature sarcastic edge seeping through your tone. You shifted slightly to try to position yourself up a little more so that you could face him properly yet as you moved a heavy sting of pain shot through you, causing you to yelp out a little and tense up in response. As if it were instinctual to him, Jack moved towards you and helped you settle back down. “Try not to move too much until the ambulance gets here” he directed. You didn’t know if it was your imagination or not, but you could have sworn his hand lingered on your forehead a second longer than it should have, his fingertips brushing against your skin and leaving a burning sensation in their wake, something that, shamefully so, made your heart skip a small beat. “Now, about me not caring - sugar, when are you gonna accept that no matter what happened between us that I still care about you as a person?” he asked. Shoving those thoughts to the back of your mind, you settled on glaring back at him with a quick witted quip to combat him, because that’s all he was to you: an annoyance, a nuisance, a royal pain in the ass. You were doing him a favour by letting him stay with you. There was nothing more to this.

“Try never, asshole” you snapped, one note harsher than you originally intended. As usual whenever you bit back at his banter, Jack shrugged and rested back into the wall he was standing against. For once, though, you felt bad at snapping at him like that - there wasn’t any need for it, he was only trying to help. Not knowing if you could fully coax the words ‘I’m sorry’ from your mouth, you settled on something less apologetic but still sort of the message across. “But...really, thank you. For, y’know, helping me out here” .

Jack looked at you for a moment, somewhat taken aback at what you’d said before he softened a bit.“Of course, sugar. Call it returning the favour for taking care of me a couple of weeks back” he answered, giving you that sweet smile of his that hadn’t managed to unweave itself from those old memories. And for once, you allowed yourself to smile weakly in return.

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #cross my heart #Kingsman #Kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #Pedro Pascal

65 notes · View notes

smeeboswriting · 3 years

Text

Hayloft | Johnny Joestar

❤️| Young lovers with their legs tied up in knots.

Pairing: Johnny Joestar/Reader. (AFAB, Fem reader | She/Her) I use third person and did not use Y/N in this one-shot. I didn’t beta-read this and I do struggle with english, so I am sorry for any mistakes.(Edited because I got something wrong before I think, please tell me if I get terms wrong)

Warnings: 🔞Adult NSFW content under the cut, read at your own risk. More details below the cut.

Summary: Loosely based off Mother Mother’s hayloft, excluding the part about the gun though. Reader is left alone with Johnny in a hayloft. (Established Relationship, porn with feelings, following my personal headcannon that Johnny is touch starved due to his depression)

Word Count: 7631 words

Quick Note: I haven’t written in several months, and I do struggle with english as a whole so I am sorry if any of this is sloppy. I wanted to get back into writing and this is my first attempt, I’m not very confident, but I figured I’d post this anyway.

Content Warnings: Risky Situations, Semi-Public Sex(Does Sex in a hayloft out in the open count?), Awkward situations, Use of vulgarity, Vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), handjobs, riding, cowgirl position, mentions of touch starved/depressive episodes. Please tell me if I missed anything that you would like me to tag. Or if I have done something wrong.

The ruthless sun peeked its head up above the horizon, standing just beyond the rolling fields of gold wheat and dry dirt until every inch of land was baked under unbearable heat. Johnny bowed his head, face peach pink and flushed with the sun’s burning kisses. He preferred the weather in Kentucky over the weather in Arizona. He huffed as he breathed in stale dry air that burned his lungs, raising his head to the front of his party and catching the tail end of Valkyrie trotting just a few paces in the forefront.

Gyro sat atop of his saddle with his hat tilted forward, casting a band of shadow across his eyes. “We should set up camp soon,” Gyro announced from the head of the party, riding Valkyrie a few paces beyond the rest. Though he spoke clearly Johnny could tell fatigue and the heat was getting to him as well. He caught sight of the way Gyro grit his teeth and kept his head tilted down to the ground, his shirt becoming damp with sweat at the front until it stuck to his skin. They definitely needed to rest soon. “We’re ahead anyway, we can spare some time.” Johnny grunted in turn, gripping the collar on his hood and fanning himself.

He checked the rear of the party, seeing her following loyally from the tail end as she sat atop her horse in all of her glory while her body rocked gently on the raised bump of her saddle. The girl caught sight of him and offered him a smile, before Johnny turned back around to face the dry cracked roar ahead of them.

They tracked further along the dirt road until the horses bowed their heads and huffed with flared nostrils, Johnny briefly wondered if one of them might drop. He pressed a hand against Slow Dancer’s thick neck, even her fur felt hot beneath his palm. He blindly reached down beside his saddle bag, grappling for his canteen until he pried it from its holster and held it up to his ear, shaking it only to find it was hollow on the inside. He cursed, dropping his arm by his side with his throat feeling much drier than before.

“Here,” he heard her voice from behind him, spinning his head around to face her but quickly glancing down when he saw her arm extended out towards him with her half full canteen pressing into his side. He said her name in question, “Are you sure?” he asked her, and she smiled at him with those generous eyes staring back up at him. “I took a drink a while ago, so you can have the rest.” She shook it, the sound of water sloshing inside the leather bound bottle making Johnny’s mouth water. He took it and took a swig, tilting his head back and drinking two big mouthfuls until his dry throat screamed in relief. He wiped his mouth with the back of his palm and handed it back to her, giving her a nod as she grabbed the bottle from his hand. Their fingers brushed against the other, making shivers roll up Johnny’s arm all the way to his shoulder. She put her canteen back into its holster and slipped the cap back on, not minding that it sounded much emptier than before.

She was always kind and giving.

Her touch lingered on Johnny’s hand and he forced himself to focus on anything else but that ache in his fingers. Her name fell from his lips as he thanked her beneath his breath, she only hummed back. He wondered if she was bothered by the heat at all, from first glance she was chipper and bright, but he could see the telltale slack in her shoulders and the way she hunched over to the cap of her hat blocked her eyes from the sun’s rays as her chest rose and fell in large steady breaths. Though it wasn’t obvious she was also experiencing fatigue from the burning hot heat.

“Look,” Gyro’s voice came from the front, Johnny turning back around and following his pointed digit out into the horizon line, eyes falling on the approaching figure of a large barn just a few yards ahead of them. It stood still in an open clearing where the fields of wheat halted beside a long dilapidated wooden fence. The doors on the withering gate nearly fallen off of its hinges and left wide open, leaving a clear entrance open to any weary traveler. The three came to a stop just beyond the picket and stared forward at the silent building that stood alone. “Wanna bet it’s abandoned?” Gyro hummed, snapping his reins against Valkyrie's back, the horse charging forward and stepping through the decaying fence, picking up pace just as he came to the barn’s near opened doorway.

Johnny prayed the barn truly was abandoned. It had been so long since they'd slept with a roof over their heads, and he would give anything to have shelter to lay his head down. He stopped at the open gate with Slow Dancer coming to a steady halt. She stood beside him on her own horse, the two waiting just a few feet away as Gyro hopped off of Valkyrie's back and landed on his feet with a huff. He approached the long neglected doors of the barn and pushed the splintering doors open with his palm. Johnny watched as Gyro slipped his head just beyond the open doorway before disappearing inside, there was a moment where neither of them could see their third party before he stepped outside with his thumbs held up. “Ours for the taking, no one’s been in here for years.” He announced with his gold grin, “Lady Luck is shining on us today.” he cheered.

Johnny glanced at the neglected building that showed its age with forsaken wood and withering structure, a part of him wondered if it was safe at all, but beggars could not afford to be choosers. He said her name to catch her attention, gesturing that she follow him, the two waltzing their horses through the degraded fence and joining Gyro’s side. Gyro left the barn door open, Johnny using this to his advantage to explore the uninhibited building. He lead Slow Dancer through the open mouth of the barn, finding himself in a shriveled and abandoned room that hadn’t been cared for in years. There was a ladder by the south wall leading up to a platform where stacks of abandoned hay loomed above the ground floor, there were a few stacks clinging to the walls and corners but there were three bales in the center of the room left all alone. Johnny couldn’t help but to think they conveniently looked like a couch more than anything.

“Oh, it’s a hayloft.” She said beside him, slipping her boots out of her saddle stirrups and hopping down to the floor. “I remember we had one of these back in Kentucky.” Johnny muttered, as she walked forward. She put her hands on her hips and looked around, “There’s so much, the place is covered in it.” She took three steps forward and kicked her foot out against the ground, bringing up dirt and stray pieces of what was supposed to be animal fodder. Single strands of hay covered the floor like dust. “I think it’s too old to give to the horses,” she sighed as she turned her nose up and sniffed the air, “It’s even lost its nose.” She explained as the scent of staleness filled her nose, unable to smell the sweet scent of hay fresh off the field. That was enough to tell her the age of the bales.

“It’d be like feeding them dirt.” She walked further into the loft to investigate, finding nothing more than bales and an empty bucket parked beside a broom. She grabbed the broom, inspecting it before sweeping the hay covered floor in an attempt to clean an area for camping. Johnny focused on her striding figure, watching her flutter about the messy barn and sweep with her body slightly bent. His eyes went from her torso down to her waist, lingering a little too long on the curves of her hips. His hands twitched, remembering how her skin felt when she had handed him her canteen and their fingers brushed against the other. She faced him just as he turned his head, eyes shifting to the wall.

Gyro stayed just beyond the loft, eyes facing the horizon “Even if the horses can’t eat any of the hay they got plenty of other options.” he called out to them, “There’s tons of wheat around here, and lots of grass to graze.” He pointed at the rolling fields they had been touring. “If we’re lucky there’s a well somewhere nearby.” He rubbed his hands together before tethering Valkyrie to a fairly sturdy post a few paces away from the shed. “But we can’t pass up shelter like this.”

Johnny knew Gyro was right, this was a blessing, a barn provided shelter with a roof and shade from the sun. He pressed his heel against Slow Dancer’s side, having the mare trot forward until she was at the edge of the three stacks of hay in the center of the room. Johnny untucked his legs from the saddle, rolling off of his horses back and slowly settling down on the bale below. The stack crunched beneath his weight, a few sticking him in the thighs but he couldn’t feel a thing. He rested his hands on the edge of the stack and found it uncomfortable at first, but the dried pile felt more comfortable than a saddle at the moment.

“Darling,” Her voice brought him back to her, she was standing in front of him with the broom held loosely in one hand and the other one pointing at Slow Dancer behind him. “Want me to tether your mare outside too?” she asked with a smile, “Until nightfall, that is.” Johnny nodded, “Alright.” he relented the reins over to her, letting her grab the leather harness from his hand. “I gotta tether my horse too, I bet they’re excited to get to grazing.” she hummed, tossing the broom aside and holding Slow Dancer’s reins in one hand and her own horses in the other.

“Oi, you two.” Gyro called from the door, making both of their heads turn to the front. “I’m going to go find some firewood so we can hopefully cook something up for dinner,” he explained, pointing his thumb up and out towards the fields. “You two stay here and watch the horses, and clean the place up a little so we can set up for the night, got it?” He asked. “Yeah, sure.” Johnny replied, settling his weight further down on the stack he had made his seat. “You got it.” she said, pinching her index and thumb together in an “Okay,” gesture. “I won’t be long, unless there’s just no god damn wood out there.” Gyro grumbled, stepping out into the yard and trudging through the fields of tall grass that brushed against his calves. Johnny watched his figure retreat until he could no longer see his silhouette beyond the open barn doors. They were alone now.

Alone together in the hayloft.

As she took ahold of their horses reins and brought them forward in her hands Johnny’s eyes returned to her figure, his skin itching as that heavy feeling settled into his chest, there was no denying the overwhelming feeling of need biting at his stomach. Suddenly the distance between them felt much greater than before, especially as she opened the barn doors ever so wider with their horses in tow. He felt deprived, yearning for touch now that it was mere inches from his grasp. Cautiously he glanced at her from beyond the open hayloft doors, shamefully imagining what she’d look like bent over a bale of hay with nothing but her shirt clinging to her arms, and he felt disgusted with himself for just a moment even if he was no stranger to her bedside.

He indulged himself a little more, remembering those lonely nights that turned warm and sweet in her arms, just the two of them tangled together in a tent with no one but the other. He wanted to be held by her again, his eyes locking on her soft arms that moved up and down with each knot she made in the leather straps until each horse was secure. He wanted those arms to hold him into her chest again.

She turned and met his eyes, making him tense, but she stared at him with total admiration. Admiration that he wasn’t sure he deserved.

She offered Johnny a smile, tethering their horses to a single post just beyond the barn beside Valkyrie. Johnny didn’t return it, glancing down at the floor with his hands balled into loose fists on his thighs. Would she sneer at him if she knew how badly he wanted to hold her on his lap?

She tugged the horses reins with one strong pull until she heard the wood creak in protest. “That outta hold ‘em.” She said aloud, stepping back and admiring her work with her hands on her hips. Johnny eyed the way her fingers curled around her waist, until she turned to him with that grin still on her plump lips. The sun had tinted her skin rose red, and pebbles of sweat clung to her round cheeks. “I guess we’re gonna be waiting a while.” She said, though Johnny was hardly paying attention. Instead he favored watching the way her legs moved as she walked towards him, the curves of her thighs felt much more pronounced in those jeans.

She sat beside Johnny, her thighs itching from the bale of hay sticking her through her chaps. Though it was oddly comfortable. She tilted her cap back and let her head fall forward, brushing the back of her palm against her brow. “Lord, it’s so god damn hot.” She said, reaching up and unfurling the top of her blouse, nimble fingers working on each button until more of her hot skin was exposed to the open air. Johnny swallowed, eyes quickly following the curve of her cleavage that peeked out from the open mouth of her blouse. He could nearly see the valley of her breasts.

He wanted to touch her.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, startling her as he tugged her into his side. She caught a glimpse of his hand just before it squeezed her hip, his fingers sinking into the hard fabric of her chaps. She was stunned before she was as pleased as Punch, leaning into his body with her head falling on his shoulder. He smelled like the sun, but she imagined she shared the same scent after hours of toiling on horseback, baking underneath the heat. “You feeling okay?” She asked, and Johnny felt the corners of his lips tug up into a grin. She was considerate, and kind. Something far too good for this world, and for him.

“Yeah,” He answered, drawing circles on her waist with the pads of his fingertips. “Just fine.” She lifted her head and offered him that sweet smile, and he took it with wide open arms as he hugged her tighter into his body. Now, he was glad that Gyro was nowhere near them, he knew the Italian would have teased him for the sudden display of affection. Yet alone in the hayloft he could freely hold her in his aching arms. She twisted her torso until she was chest to chest with him, her arms wrapping around his firm shoulders and locking behind the nape of his neck. Her fingers brushed against the exposed skin from the low line of his hood, leaving shivers rolling up Johnny’s back. A rush of blood ran down from his chest to the base of his stomach. That was when he glanced down, noticing the obvious bump in the front of his pants making an all too noticeable bump between his legs.

He was damn near ashamed that all it took was her hands on him to get him this excited, back in the prime of his life he was no stranger to a woman’s touch, sharing his bed with many gorgeous ladies in his life that all eagerly threw themselves at his feet. Sometimes, his bed was open to multiple girls at once, constantly warm and filled. Then the accident happened, and he had grown far too used to cold nights in an empty bed, with no one even so much as batting an eye in his direction. Thinking back on it now any women he had trysts with were obscured, their faces long absent from his mind, he couldn’t even recall their names anymore. He never had deep connections with any of the women he’d slept with, they were only there for a short time, but he didn’t care. He thought he’d never be embraced so sweetly after everyone had abandoned him in the dust.

Until he met her, and she opened her arms to him despite everything that he hated about himself, and he found himself selfishly clinging to her. His grip on her tightened, fingers bunching around tightwads on her shirt. She hummed in response, pressing her cheek against his. “This is a real surprise, you’re never this affectionate.” she teased, making the bridge of his nose burn a brighter hue of red. He responded by shoving his face in between the crook of her neck and shoulders, hiding his bashful expression from her searching eyes. “Shut up.” he muttered, his mouth scraping against her skin.

“I’m only teasing, but aren’t you hot?” She rubbed circles on his back, fingers dipping beneath the hemline of his shirt, sending blood rushing straight to in between his legs. Fuck, Johnny thought, it hadn’t even been too long since they’ve last had sex but he was acting as if he was a man who was starved. He didn’t answer her, instead favoring to use his maw differently. His lips scraped against her hot flushed skin, and he relished the way it felt against his mouth. He began to pepper hot kisses up and down the arch of her throat, pressing himself against her until the heat made it feel as if he’d melt into her body. She sighed in soft delight at the contact, tilting her head back instinctively and letting him run his soft lips over her arched throat while she tangled her fingers in his thick crop of soft hair. “Johnny,” She practically sang, encouraging him to sink his teeth into the side of her neck. She yelped, practically jumping out of her skin if not for Johnny grounding her by grabbing tight handfuls of her ass and bringing her forward until her thighs were practically draped over his lap. Her face quickly became red as Johnny’s hands slipped beneath the band of her blouse, greedily taking in the feel of her bare hips and back. “Gyro will be back soon, won’t he?” She asked, finally finding words after she caught her stolen breath.

“Please?” Johnny mumbled, his voice falling into a lower pitch, much softer than before. He planted an especially wet kiss against her sun baked skin, running his fingers from her back to her front and pressing up until he felt his palms brush against her heavy breasts, and it was then he could feel her fall right into his hands. She chewed her bottom lip until it was tucked between her teeth, Johnny’s thumbs running circles over the hardening peaks of her nipples. “Only if we’re real quick,” she stuttered, “I don’t want Gyro catching us.” She moaned as Johnny cupped her through her chaps, palming her through the thick material. Johnny dragged them both to the floor, falling on the ground on his haunches while she sat right beside him. He leaned back against the hefty hay bale that was once their seat, while she scooted over until she was tucked firmly in between his legs.

She first let her hands roam the slim but firm expanse of his chest, fingers dancing across his broad shoulders and ending at the vee of his stomach. His shirt rode up on his midriff, showing off more of his skin. “You’re so gorgeous, Johnny.” She praised beneath her breath, making the blonde shuffle beneath her and turn his head to the side. “I’m not.” he mumbled, which she responded with pecking his cheek, “You are.” she insisted. Johnny fell silent, closing his eyes and refusing to answer her but shivered and leaned into her touch as she palmed him through his pants. “I can already feel you through these,” she marveled.

She had only been a virgin before he had gotten his hands on her, but with what little experience she had with him she used to the best of her ability. She wasn’t confident as she began to reach for his slacks. She gripped the hem of his pants and slipped them down the smooth curves of his waist until they wrapped around his slim thighs. His cock sprang forward instantly, half hard but not nearly at full mast. “You were already excited, huh?” She swallowed, wrapping her hand around the thick base and giving him a firm pump. “But we gotta get you ready before we can do anything.” She could feel him becoming bigger in her palm. Johnny gave a hiss, feeling her thumb roll over the weeping head though she wore the same bashful, uncertain gaze as before.

“Does this feel good?” She asked meekly, jacking him off until he was fully erect in her hand. “Yes,” he tilted his head back into the bale of hay, groaning low in his throat while he admired her in between his lame legs. She had definitely improved since the last time they were intimate, his eyes running from her curled fingers and traveling up her arm, until he focused on her plump pair of lips that pressed down into a fine line with focus. He admired her mouth briefly, watching her gentle expressions as she pleasured him with her hands. He wanted to feel her lips wrapped around his cock. He wondered if he was being selfish, wanting more than what she was giving him now, but he wanted to greedily have every bit of her now that he had her and her alone.

He called her name, making her turn her head up to meet his eyes, still wearing that sweet face of hers as her hand came to a standstill leaving himself twitching in her fingers. “Yes?” she asked, scooting forward on her knees. It took him a moment to build enough courage to open his mouth, his tongue feeling dry as he spoke “Could you use your mouth,” he asked, his voice more timid than before, “On me?”

If she wasn’t pink before she was now, but oh how he loved the way she looked at him when her face was painted red with blush. She had only pleasured him with her tongue once before, and as inexperienced as she was Johnny remembered how he melted into her mouth. She gave a slow nod, falling into his lap as she bent over and pressed her lips against the head of his length. He was full in her hands, the tip of his cock angry and red, leaking with precum as she cautiously ran her tongue down the throbbing column of flesh. He chewed the inside of lip as she took him into her mouth, giving him an especially hard suck at the head, earning an appreciative groan from Johnny.

She had already improved from last time. “That feels so good.” He breathlessly said her name as he encouraged her, sweeping the back of his knuckles against her bangs. She hummed against his length, running her tongue over the heavy underside, before bobbing her head down and gagging as the head bumped against the back of her throat. Johnny was a good six inches, but lord was his cock fat. It was enough to fit him in her mouth until her lips were kissing the base of his waist with just the head scraping the back of her throat, but the girth made her tongue flatten against her jaw. She felt him throb, pulling her head up before going back down, coating him with her spit.

It was sloppy, and inexperienced, but to Johnny it was enough to make him swoon.

“That’s good, just like that, just like that.” He didn’t care that it was messy, he wanted whatever she gave him. She was learning as she went, bobbing her head and pumping his base all in an effort to please him. Yet he had to remember that time was short, and they had little of it to waste. He caressed her cheek and gently lifted her head off of him, his hard cock falling from her mouth with an especially wet pop. “We still have to get you ready,” He told her, brushing his thumb against her puffy bottom lip before sinking it into her mouth and pressing the pad of his finger against her tongue. “Otherwise it’ll hurt,” and he didn’t want her to bleed like she did when he broke her around his cock. She gave a nod, closing her lips around his thumb, making him shudder as he reached down with his free arm and unbuckled the loops of her belt, her chaps falling off of her hips and puddling around her knees. She sat beside him, giving him easier access as they both leaned their bodies against the hay bale. She kicked her boots off, the pair of shoes landing just a few feet away from them as he worked with the rest of her clothes. He grew annoyed with the pesky layers of her clothing, now having to remove her jeans once her rancher’s chaps were out of the way. She wriggled, kicking her legs out until the pairs of pants she wore joined her boots in a heap.

He took a second to appreciate her now bare legs, running his palm down her smooth thighs and admiring any imperfections he found in her skin. He traced his fingers against the raised bumps of scratches from the wilderness or cuts from previous fights. Her chemise shorts were the only thing hugging her hips, blocking Johnny from the prize between her thighs, but it too joined their growing heap. He untied her wild rag around her throat, letting it fall to the ground before he quickly worked at the buttons of her blouse, splitting open the fabric all the way down until it opened wide around her chest. Her breasts fell free, not being held by anything else but her shirt prior to Johnny stripping her. He kept the sleeves clinging to her shoulders, the only thing on her back being her open button-down. He tipped her cap back until the hat landed on the hay covered floor, leaving her open and vulnerable beside him. He felt breathless every time he saw her like this, but his greedy hands already began to grab handfuls of her tender flesh, making her hum appreciatively and sigh in bliss as he explored her open body that was reserved for him alone.

“Spread your legs,” he told her, using his upper body strength to switch their positions so that she was pressed back against the bale with him in between her thighs. She looked flustered, with her sweat pebbled skin glistening in the sunlight that poured from the open slots in the roof, but god she was a sight for sore eyes. She glanced back cautiously, peeking over the hay to the still closed barn doors, checking for Gyro as Johnny began to grope the flushed mound of her cunt. Johnny furrowed her brows, he didn’t like that her eyes were anywhere else but him. He responded to this by tugging her down until she was on her back, making her gasp as he delivered an especially sharp bite to her inner thigh. She yelped, her legs twitching while Johnny gave her a pout in between her legs.

“Look at me,” he muttered, using his thumb to pull her plump labia lips open, making her whimper as he turned his eyes down to her already slick core. He traced two fingers up her wet cunt, eyes narrowing as he gathered her slick “Damn, what made you this wet?” he asked her, rolling the hard button of her clit against his thumb. “Don’t tell me you got this excited while sucking me off,” He teased her, expressing slight vulgarity and making her hide her face in the crook of her arm with a whimper as he continued to toy with the pearl of her clit in gentle circles. He would give an especially hard rub every now and then to get her to buck her hips up into his hand when he wanted to see her squirm. He greedily took in the sight of her as she writhed with his hand pressed against her core.

He leaned down, mouthing her thick lower lips before tracing his tongue over her puffy clit and making her hips jump. Rusty as Johnny was, he remembered what a lady might’ve liked once, giving her clit an especially hard suck as he slipped two fingers into her tight opening. She moaned into her sleeves, her twitching legs nearly closing on Johnny’s head if not for his free arm gripping one down to the floor. Though he knew he should be rushing he took his time opening her up on his fingers to prepare her, not wanting to repeat any past mistakes and being mindful of her lack of experience.

As he scissored her open with his index and middle finger she was so soaked he briefly wondered if she even needed him to prepare her anymore, his two digits becoming drenched in her slick. He curled his fingers, searching for that tender spot at the roof of her walls until he bumped against it. She cried into her elbow, her tight walls pulsing around his digits. He relentlessly attacked that spot, with his index and middle finger working her from the inside while his thumb continued to torture her clit. As long as he got his hands on her, he was happy, and if he had the time he’d torture her until she came on his hand. He pulled off her clit with a wet pop, giving her a few tentative licks as she whined when he stopped altogether. He slipped his fingers from her wet core, rubbing her slick off on his cock. “Sorry,” He apologized, giving her an apologetic kiss above her navel for stopping so suddenly, “But you know it makes it easier.”

She gave a nod as she sat up, her thighs still trembling with the pleasant burn between them. She admired him with blown pupils and a smile on her lips, Johnny lifting himself off of the ground and out from the middle of her legs. “Come here,” Johnny said, dragging himself back against the bale of hay while sitting upright, before gingerly grabbing her wrist and tugging her forward. “I want you over me, like before.” She scooted over on her knees and swung one leg over his waist until she had each thigh on either side of his hips. She surmounted him, feeling his cock bump against her bare pussy as she sat on his lap. Johnny twirled a lock of her hair in between forefingers as she was perched on top of him. He continued to idly stroke her sensitive clit while she reached in between their bodies, gripping the base of his hard length and positioning him up until the head bumped against her wet opening.

She seemed too eager to take him, to care for him like she knew he wanted. She cupped his cheek with her free hand, lifting his head up before taking his lips into a kiss.

He welcomed the feeling with fervor, kissing her in return and scraping his teeth against her bottom lip. She sank down on his shaft with one smooth stroke of her hips, moaning into his mouth. She pulled off of his lips and separated their kiss with a huff, shifting on top him with the building pressure of being so full settling into her stomach. “I’m still not used to this, so tell me if I’m doing something wrong, alright?” She sweetly asked, Johnny giving her a nod before resting his cheek in the palm of her hand. She shifted back onto her haunches, using her thighs to lift her hips up and bring them down onto his lap with a whimper. The crown of his prick penetrated her, the wide head halting her in place as she huffed. Though Johnny had taken his time to make sure she was fairly prepared, even with their time restraints, he obviously had more girth below the belt than his fingers or tongue. He reassured her, fingers drawing gentle circles in her waist as she sank the rest of the way down until her soaking wet cunt swallowed him down from tip to base. She groaned, feeling full and heavy with him nestled deep inside of her.

Johnny knew he’s had sex countless times before, but never this intimate, with love in step. Flings and trysts could never amount to the feeling of someone caring for you in bed, and Johnny realized he had never made love to someone before the girl happily sitting on his lap. Everything she did was in devotion to him, and it made him more eager than before. He sighed as her wet heat swallowed him whole, falling back into the bale of hay while she gripped his shoulders for leverage, using him for stability as she raised her hips only to let them fall back down on his lap. Bouncing down on his cock.

“Does this feel okay?” She whimpered through a moan, rocking her body down as Johnny groaned a low, “Yes.” He only wished she didn’t have to deal with most of the work, if he had half the mobility he had in his prime he would throw her down on the barn floor and show her how badly he wanted her. He could only do with what little he had, such as saddling his hands on her waist and bringing her down to meet his hips. She writhed on top of him, letting him lift her up and down at his own pace. He chose a much rougher pace than hers, but she took it with little protest. She moaned and fell into him, wrapping her arms around his body and hugging him tight into her chest while he used all of his upper body strength to fuck her down onto his cock. Splitting her wide open on his shaft and having her take the shape of him.

A gnawing, tingling feeling began to pool in her lower waist followed by the feeling of being perfectly full, her already hot skin burning even more so now. The occasional sharp gasp and moan fell from Johnny’s parted lips, mouth open as he gasped for air. The heat from the sun and her body burned his skin and overwhelmed him until he felt dizzy, but he kept his eyes trained on her bouncing body, her hips bobbing up and down while she rutted against him. He moaned her name in her ear, earning a breathless cry of his own in turn. “Johnny,” she stuttered, tossing her head back with an especially sharp inhale as the crying tip of his dick bumped against somewhere deep inside of her that made shocks run through her stomach. Johnny relentlessly targeted that spot, knowing he had found her sweetness.

Her nerves were on fire, fried from their previous foreplay, and Johnny did not let up as his thumb found the hard peak of her clit once more and stroked it in circles. She cried into his shoulder, moaning while getting a mouthful of fabric from his shirt. “Damn,” Johnny murmured, “I’m real close.” he whispered against the shell of her ear as she fell into him. Her bare skin practically melted into his clothes as her skin became tacky with sweat. “Me too,” She mewled, beginning to match Johnny’s pace as she began to ride him with further vigor.

Johnny moaned with a sigh of fulfillment, feeding off of her excitement and titillation as he sunk his nails into her sides, leaving small crescent shaped craters in her once smooth skin. He leaned forward and scraped his teeth against the ridge of her collarbone, leaving heavy and wet kisses up and down her chest to her throat. Johnny was typically quiet during their love making, but he found himself chanting her name in small whispers that barely reached her ears.

“Please,” He begged, falling apart in her arms. “Please, almost there. Please.” he babbled and nuzzled his head just above her breast, while he attacked her clit with newfound intensity. Rolling the hard button in circles and making her mouth fall open with a sharp inhale. He felt her squeeze down on his shaft, practically suffocating his cock in her tight heat. “Johnny, if you keep doing that I’m gonna-” She raked her nails down his back, his skin barely protected by the fabric of his hood. Her expression fell into a silent scream while she tossed her head back, arching her chest forward as she trembled with her orgasm. Her climax came swiftly, and he relented his hold on her now sore clit, but Johnny continued to pump her down on his hard length as she rode through her high. She babbled something akin to gratitude, thanking Johnny for making her feel so good, but he could hardly hear her from the blood rushing to his ears. She curled over him, pressing her cheek atop of his head and cradling his cheek, “I love you,” she moaned so tenderly that it made his heart leap into his throat.

It was enough for him to reach that peak and fall right over the edge, giving her a final hard pump and settling her on his hips as he came. He gasped, shoving his face in the crook of her neck while silencing himself with the skin of her throat. He wrapped his arms around her midriff and fully embraced her as he filled her to the brim with himself. His cum flooding her tight channel while they sat on the hayloft floor, a pair of young lovers with their legs tied up in knots. He didn’t think about the consequences of not pulling out, for now he was riding that high and soaking in her warmth until it became unbearable. He was suffocating in heat, evident by his blistering red face and sweat pebbling on his brow, but he didn’t dare move.

Instead he clutched her, closing his eyes and pressing his lips into a fine line as he held her in place, effectively plugging her with his spunk as he remained fully seated inside her. Slowly the dizzying high fell and he was once again grounded, but he held still as she panted on top of him with her head bowed. He only sat in silence as the two of them caught their breath. He rested his cheek against her chest and turned his eyes up at her, admiring her as she basked in the afterglow of their end.

“You feel better now?” she asked in that reposeful voice of hers, Johnny only grunting in response and nodding against her collar. She kissed the top of his head, smiling against his star spangled beanie. He reluctantly pried himself off of her, practically peeling himself off her body. She was a frazzled mess with the look of sex on her skin, he lifted her thigh and raised her up and off of his softening cock, watching as his length fell from her well-used cunt with a slick sound. He shivered, eyes falling on a trail of his cum running from her sore pussy and down her inner thigh. She whimpered at the loss of contact, the soreness quickly settling in between her hips. Riding horseback by tomorrow morning would be hell, but she could care less, evident by the bright smile she wore as she peppered Johnny’s hot face with kisses.

“We should get dressed.” She relented with a sigh, “Well, I should get dressed.” she corrected herself, knowing all Johnny had to do was tuck himself back into his pants while she was left mostly bare save for the shirt clinging to her shoulders. Johnny nodded though absentmindedly, instead favoring to hold her hand and fall in silence. He hummed, with one hand holding hers and the tracing stars and marks on her navel, he expected her to crawl off of him and get right to changing, but he should have known better as she soon leaned down and pursed her lips for another kiss. “One more?” she cooed, and he relented, succumbing to her affection and giving her a chaste peck on the lips.

That was when they heard the telltale sounds of Gyro grousing about outside. He called their names in a sharp tone, “Where are you two?” he called out, followed by his approaching footsteps. They both fell silent, heads turning towards the barn doors in panic as they could hear the jingling of Gyro’s spurs coming closer. “Shit, Gyro’s coming.” Johnny hissed beneath his breath, turning back to her and realizing she would have no time to fix herself and act as if nothing had happened. He should have stuck to just stripping her pants down. She bit her bottom lip anxiously, “Get down, behind the bale.” She whispered hastily, gripping his shoulders and pushing him down with Johnny assisting until he sank down to the point his head was hidden by hay. “You two in here?” Gyro called again, voice raising in pitch.

She snatched her hat off the floor and tossed it back on, trying to put on as many layers as she could but realized it was pointless. Instead she favored to use the bale of hay to their advantage as she fixed her shirt, hastily and sloppily buttoning her blouse up until her cleavage was halfway hidden save for the skin that was exposed by her open collar. With The position of the hay Johnny was mostly hidden behind it, the face of the bale in front of the barn doors. She pressed her two arms down on the bale and covered Johnny’s body with her own, while he tried to sink into the floor but his head was crammed between her bust and the bale. They both fell silent with bated breath just as Gyro pushed open the heavy barn doors with his shoulder.

The tall blonde stood at the open mouth of the loft with a hand on his hip and the other resting on the wood egress, his eyes falling on the stacks of hay and noticing her sitting just behind one. He could barely see her head peeking over it. “The hell are you doing?” he asked, quirking a brow. An inquisitive frown settling on his lips. She offered an especially stiff smile to the italian, “I was changing.” she fibbed through her teeth, he took a step forward and she frantically stopped him, “Hold on, I’m not done!” she exclaimed. “I’m not decent.” She knew if he came closer he might see over the edge of the bale and see just what and who she was sitting on.

Gyro froze, and took two steps back, much to her relief. “Sorry.” he apologized, glancing away from her now that he knew she was indecent. She swallowed the sigh of relief that was bubbling inside of her throat.

He looked around the loft, eyes searching around each wooden post. “Where’s Johnny?” he asked then, “He isn’t outside, Slow Dancer is still tethered to her post, and it’s not like he can just walk off.” Johnny frowned against her stomached at that. “Oh, I don’t know.” She waved her hand, struggling to play it off as she sank down on Johnny to keep him down and hidden. Her hips straddling his stomach while he discreetly reached down and gripped the hem of his pants, lifting his slacks back up and over his waist without making a sound. On the off chance Gyro did come closer he didn’t want to be so exposed with his cum stained cock hanging out. “Maybe he just went out to the field to use the restroom?” she offered, trying to divert Gyro’s attention anywhere but the hayloft. “Could’ve just wandered out while I was sweeping.”

Gyro was silent, brows furrowed and lips pressed in a tight line before he shrugged. “I see.” He said, “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.” He turned to his side, making relief flood into Johnny’s chest as he could hear his retreating footsteps. “I brought firewood, so when you’re done getting dressed you can help start up the fire.” His spurs jingled with every step he made. “You got it.” She said, and Johnny could practically feel her heart pounding in her chest as Gyro made his leave. He stood in the open doorway, pausing just for a second to turn back and look at her with a smirk on his green lips. “Oh, and Johnny?” he called out, making him become tenser than a wire underneath her. “When you get out from under her make sure to clean up.” Gyro said in a smug tone, “We’re supposed to be sleeping here, after all.” He closed the barn doors behind him and left the two in total mortified silence.

“God dammit.” Johnny groaned against her stomach.

#johnny joestar x reader #johnny x reader #johnny joestar imagine #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #steel ball run #jojo part seven #jojo part 7 #johnny joestar #Peach's writing #Peach's NOT SAFE writing #n/s/f/w

240 notes · View notes

multifandomfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Uptown Girl

TITLE: Uptown Girl PAIRING: Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels/OC RATING: T CHAPTER: One-shot SUMMARY: Jack, as the face of Statesman, has to go to business events and at this one, he meets a girl who’s not like anyone he’s ever met before.

[A/N - Requested by @arelyhb. I hope to like this! I enjoyed writing the banter so much!]

Whiskey hated these events. As the face of Statesman, he was required to attend all types of functions.

And that included business parties.

As much as Jack loved working in the New York office (it got him away from that asshole Tequila), he missed Kentucky. Kentucky was his home.

You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy. Which is why he’d arrived dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans, cowboy boots, white button up shirt, casual suit jacket, and a bolo tie. And of course he had his signature Stetson on his head.

Sure, it made the yuppies look down on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He already stood out with his accent.

He’d left his lasso and whip at home, not wanting to draw more attention to himself than necessary. His gun was tucked under his suit jacket. He technically wasn’t allowed to carry one, but as a Statesman agent one could never be too careful.

He made the rounds, making small talk while he slowly made his way to the bar. He was going to need something stronger than champagne to get through this evening. “Whiskey,” he told the bartender. He was named after the drink, both his codename and his birth name, so naturally it was his favorite.

The bartender handed the tumbler to him and he took a sip and looked around. He spotted a pretty brunette at the other end of the bar.

She was dressed in a form fitting red dress and he could imagine she had on matching heels.

“Send her a beer. Put it on my tab,” Whiskey said.

“Sure, man.” The bartender handed her the beer.

He watched them talk and then the bartender pointed at him. Whiskey raised his glass to her.

She rolled her eyes and pushed the beer away.

Okay, now this woman had his attention. He finished his whiskey and walked over to her. “You haven’t touched your beer, darlin’.”

She turned to him with a condescending smile. “Beer is for blue collar workers. I only drink wine.”

“Then what can I get you, sugar?”

“Merlot.”

Whiskey had to stop himself from laughing. Agent Merlot was a redheaded (which is how she got her codename) firecracker who was in an on again, off again relationship with Tequila.

“A Merlot for the pretty lady.”

The bartender rolled his eyes and handed her the glass of wine.

“So, what brings you here?” Whiskey asked as she took a sip of wine.

“Same as you, business.”

Whiskey noticed the ring on her finger. “Pretty ring. Did your husband buy you that?”

The woman looked down at her ring. “I designed it.”

“Ah, so you’re a jewelry designer.”

“You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes, cowboy.”

“So, do you normally wear your own merchandise?”

“Do you normally drink your own whiskey?” She’d seen the bartender pour him his drink from a Statesman bottle.

Now normally this was when Whiskey would have backed off, sensing she wasn’t interested in his advances. But he could tell by her jesting manner that she was enjoying their back and forth.

“So, where are you from? Originally?”

“Tennessee.”

“Kentucky. We’re practically neighbors.”

“I don’t doubt you’re from Tennessee going off that accent of yours. That and you run a liquor company. How country.”

He winked at her. “I’ll show you just how country I can be in the bedroom, darlin’.”

“Let me guess this is the part where you come up with some stupid pickup line to try and get me to come to your high-rise apartment and have sex with you?”

“Hold your horses, sweetheart. I haven’t asked you to dinner yet.”

“You…? You wanna take me to dinner first?”

Whiskey took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “If you’d allow me to.”

She smiled. “If you’re going to take me to dinner, you should at least tell your name first.”

“Jack Daniels. Please to meet you ma’am.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And that’s your real name?”

“Sure is, darlin’.”

She still didn’t seem to believe him, but said, “Olivia Washburn and yes. You can take me to dinner.”

Whiskey let out a sigh. His flirting had paid off. “I honestly didn’t think we’d get here. But out of curiosity, what made you say yes?”

Olivia shrugged and took another sip of her wine. “Save a horse.”

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey/oc #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels #jack daniels/oc #jack daniels imagine #kingsman #kingsman imagine #statesman #statesman imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine

57 notes · View notes

searchingwardrobes · 3 years

Text

Not the Type: 5/7

The muse has awakened! I feel awful for keeping ya'll waiting so long (5 months? seriously?!) for an update on this fic. I actually decided to split this chapter up once it reached 2k because I didn't want you waiting any longer for another chapter. So, this will now be 7 chapters plus an epilogue. Much thanks to my beta @hookedonapirate for untangling my awkward wording and making me sound so much better! You have a way of getting what I'm trying to say and making it flow. What would I do without you? Thanks to the @captainswanmoviemarathon mods for being so patient and understanding when I had to put this on the back burner. And finally, thank you to my dear friend @snowbellewells for helping me get the muse kickstarted again on this fic. You rock!

Oh, and fun fact: The part in this chapter about Ruby’s cheer injury really happened - to me when I was a cheerleader long, long ago . . .

Summary: Emma Swan first notices him in the stands at the Friday night football game. She can tell right away Killian Jones is not the football type. Then again, she’s not the cheerleader type either, but here she is with pom poms. Life hasn’t ever gone the way Emma planned. Lately, that’s actually been a good thing. Maybe Killian Jones is a good thing, too.

My loose Captain Swan AU of the movie Bring it On

Rating: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @spartanguard @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @ohmakemeahercules @carpedzem @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockwhovian @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @itsfabianadocarmo @lassluna

Chapter Five

“You’ve got to let go of me for one second,” Emma giggled, her tone and the fact that she was simultaneously wrapping her free arm tighter around Killian’s waist completely contradicting her words.

“Do as I say, not as I do, hm?”

“I’m trying to get the mail!”

“So?”

“So you’re kissing my neck.”

“Hm, so I am.”

He flashed her a dazzling smile, his blue eyes slightly dazed, like he was drunk on love or something. Love? Emma wriggled free of his embrace as the word penetrated her lust filled, teenage brain. They couldn’t be in love or anything like that. This wasn’t a 90's rom com or something.

Killian was unfazed by her sudden distance, his hands still finding purchase on her elbow and hip; her hair still tickling his nose and mouth. She reached into the mailbox, pulled out an unusually thick stack and started flipping through it as Killian snaked his arms around her waist from behind and propped his chin on her shoulder. Emma wasn’t surprised to see college brochures; they had begun coming with increasing regularity now that she and her brother were juniors. One white envelope with blue writing gave her pause, however. It was addressed to her, and this was no brochure. It was a very official looking letter. Emma’s hands trembled as she tore it open.

“What is it?” Killian mumbled the question, far more interested in her neck at the moment.

Emma scanned the contents of the letter, and the more the words sank in, the more she trembled. So much so that the rest of the mail went fluttering to the sidewalk. Killian was finally pulled away from his obsession with her neck and spoke his next question with deep concern.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah . . . I, um,” she swallowed hard as conflicting emotions swirled in her brain. “The University of Kentucky is interested in recruiting me for their cheerleading squad.”

“That’s amazing, Swan!”

“You have no idea,” Emma said softly as she sank down onto the front step of her apartment building.

Killian gathered up the rest of the mail, then came and sat next to her. “Then continue in my cheerleading education, love.”

Emma chuckled, though she was also touched by the obvious interest he held in her pursuits, even if they weren’t necessarily in line with his.

“UK has the best cheer program in the country,” Emma explained. “They’ve won an insane number of national titles, probably more than any other college. You don’t just make the squad, you get a full ride. They’re that good.”

Killian lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “See? I knew you were bloody brilliant.”

Emma returned his bright smile with a shaky one of her own. “You’re so sweet.”

“You’re not excited about this?”

Emma bit her lip, staring at the letter in her hands until the words started to blur together. “I am. It’s just . . . this means they’ll be sending recruiters to our competitions. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion.”

Emma’s lips lifted in a half-hearted smile. Her head collapsed onto his shoulder, and he brushed his lips against her forehead.

“A full ride . . . “

She let the thought fade into the air. How could she screw up an offer like this? It would help Ruth out so much, and her brother, too.

Yeah, no pressure.

*******************************************************

“Hey, Em!”

One of Ruby’s dirty socks bounced off Emma’s head and landed in her lap. With a disgusted grumble, she batted it to the floor.

“Rubes, that’s gross!”

“Well, you’re sitting there, staring into space. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly embarrassed to put that thing on in front of everybody.”

Emma looked down at the sports bra still clutched in her right hand. They all learned early on that there was no modest way to squeeze your boobs into a sports bra, so the squad basically had to get real comfortable around each other real fast. And contrary to every teen movie ever made, there was nothing sexy about it. It was just athletes being a team in the locker room.

You know, like male athletes.

“Oh God, she’s contemplating sexism in sports again,” Ariel groaned.

“She is!” crowed Ruby. “Look how she’s staring at that sports bra!”

“You mean this torture device?” Emma quipped, waving the garment in the air like a feminist about to burn something.

“She isn’t wrong,” Mary Margaret put in.

“Well, I for one am thankful for the torture device,” Jasmine piped up.

“Here we go again,” groaned Tiana.

“It’s true!” Jasmine cried out. “I don’t want the girls flopping around. It hurts!”

“While this discussion is incredibly enlightening,” a voice said dryly from the doorway, “I’d prefer we start running our competition routine, if you ladies don’t mind.”

They all mumbled apologies to Coach Ava, along with promises to get out of the locker room as quickly as possible. Emma shed her blouse and regular bra, then struggled her way into her sports bra before slipping a cheer camp t-shirt over her head. She paused before one of the cracked mirrors that hung above a row of ancient porcelain sinks that dated back to the 1950s. Being a girls’ team that didn’t really bring in any ticket sales, the cheerleading squad was relegated to practicing in the old gym. It could've been worse, however. The seniors remembered their freshman year, before the new gym was built, when the cheerleaders were forced to practice in the atrium at the front of the school. The atrium was great for painting bust-throughs, but Emma couldn’t imagine having to practice there.

As Emma tugged her hair into a messy ponytail, she thought of the letter she had shoved in the front pocket of her backpack. She'd planned on showing it to Ruby and Mary Margaret, but for some reason, she'd lost her nerve. She sighed as she made her way out of the locker room. Letter or no letter, she had to get her head on straight.

As usual, the girls started off running a mile around the gym, and just like every other practice, Emma started off keeping pace with Ruby and Mary Margaret. Her mind was still a million miles away, however.

In Kentucky, she supposed. The bluegrass state. Was the grass really blue? I mean, it couldn’t be. How can grass be blue?

“Hey,” Ruby panted, leaning over her knees when the run was over, “what’s with you?”

“What’s what?”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she did a calf stretch. She was always getting charley horses in the middle of the night during competition season. Ruth kept bugging her to eat a banana every day, but she despised bananas. They were so mushy . . .

“Earth to Emma,” Mary Margaret laughed.

Ruby snapped her fingers in Emma’s face.

“What happened to the Emma we know and love?” she asked. “You know, the one who leaves us in the dust every practice, laughing her ass off the whole way?”

“It’s not my fault you two do a leisurely jog instead of a run.”

“Running is what you do when you’re being chased,” Mary Margaret countered. It was her usual argument.

Ruby narrowed her eyes at Emma. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“Lunges, girls, across the gym floor!” shouted Coach Ava, saving Emma from responding. She lined up with the rest of the squad along one side of the gym, then stepped forward with her right leg, her hands on her hips.

“Is it Killian?” Ruby hissed at her left.

“No!”

“Just drop it,” Mary Margaret snapped.

“Yeah,” Emma grunted as she lowered herself into another lunge, “it’s kinda hard to talk and do these at the same time.”

“Tiana, I wanna see a right angle on those lunges!” their coach called out. “Ruby, you might be able to keep your balance if you stop exercising your mouth!”

Emma laughed loudly as Ruby wobbled and almost went down. “Yeah, Rubes, I’d concentrate if I were you.”

And just to rub her friend’s face in it, Emma sped up her lunges, reaching the other side of the gym first.

“Excellent job,” Coach Ava praised her. “Smooth, with speed, and you didn’t lose your form.”

Ruby practically growled when Emma threw a smirk her way.

They did a few more drills, warmed up their tumbling with a few simple passes, then gathered on the mats to go through their routine. Coach Ava was still making a few simple changes, but for the most part, it was now all about committing it to muscle memory. They needed to be able to practically do the routine in their sleep by the time December rolled around. And that was only five weeks away.

The girls got into position, and the music started. They were opening with a tumbling peel off. The girls in the front did a standing back handspring, the girls in the middle a standing back tuck, and then . . .

Emma got to shine as she kept going. Out of a standing back tuck, into two back handsprings, and then finally into a full twisting double back as the music crescendoed. Usually, Emma’s adrenaline had her ending the pass with a huge smile on her face, but today she under-rotated and almost landed flat on her face. She tried to shake it off, but in the team’s first pyramid, she started to lose her balance, almost taking the rest of the team down with her. Emma chastised herself to get it together as her stunt group moved into position for their next stunt - a twist up

Their “theme” this year was hair. They whipped their ponytails a lot in the dance portion, and every song had to do with hair. In the next stunt, Emma had to pull up on her ponytail while she twisted up into an arabesque, as if she was pulling herself up by her hair.

It was a little like patting her head and rubbing her stomach at the same time, which was incredibly frustrating to Emma. The stupid hair pull was supposed to be a cool bit of choreography, not rocket science. Yet, once again, Emma seemed to get her arms, her long hair, and her legs tangled into a mass as she twisted upward. What happened next, Emma was never entirely sure. Ruby yelled, Emma felt herself tilting sideways and she panicked, making a rookie mistake - she attempted to jump down from the stunt. Her fist was still gripped in her hair, which she almost yanked out in the fall, and she kicked her spotter away - another rookie mistake. Thankfully, Coach Ava was able to dart forward in time to catch Emma. Behind her, she heard what she swore were skulls crashing together.

It was a pretty accurate description.

Ruby was swearing loudly as she clutched her chin. A little blood seeped between her fingers. Ashley covered her mouth with both hands, and Emma was alarmed to see a lot of blood rolling down the blonde’s chin and staining her shirt. Ava abandoned Emma to check on the two bases, barking at Mary Margaret to run and get the first aid kid.

Emma felt like the worst human being in the world. She clutched at her middle and kept whispering “I’m so sorry” over and over again, but no one paid her any attention.

Ava cleaned up the blood pouring from Ashley’s mouth enough to ascertain that all of her teeth were still intact. She just had a busted lip, something many of them had endured in the past. It was crazy how badly a mouth injury bled. As for Ruby, she didn't even need a band-aid once the blood was cleaned away with an antiseptic wipe.

“Watch it carefully for infection,” Coach Ava advised.

“Why?” Ruby asked with a furrowed brow.

Ava winced slightly before reluctantly explaining. “They're bite marks. Ashley’s teeth collided with your chin.”

“WHAT??” Ruby screeched.

The rest of the squad crowded around to see as Coach Ava tilted Ruby’s chin up for a better look. Sure enough, there were two teeth-shaped puncture marks, like she’d been attacked by a wild animal. Practically growling in irritation, Ruby shoved her teammates aside and rushed to the locker room for a better look.

Ruby’s scream moments later had all of the girls collapsing with laughter.

“Well,” Ava sighed, “I suppose we’re taking a little break before we run the routine again.”

*************************************************

“So Ruby has bite marks on her chin?”

Emma snort-laughed through her nose at the look on Killian’s face. “Yep. And the rumors about how she got them get more and more unbelievable as the day goes by.”

Killian rolled his eyes before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Bloody gits”

It was too cold now to sit under the trees in the school courtyard, so she and Killian were tucked into a hidden corner in the school atrium. They had to whisper, though, because sounds reverberated against the domed ceiling. Emma couldn’t imagine cheering in this space. How did the seniors not go deaf?

“It’s not really a sexy place for bite marks though,” Emma said as she licked Cheeto powder off her fingers.

“Yeah, I can think of far kinkier places.”

She smacked him in the chest as he waggled his eyebrows at her. She wanted to be indignant at his innuendo, but instead her cheeks burned as her mind plunged straight into the gutter. She already knew a little bit of what Killian could do with his teeth . . .

“Sorry,” he apologized, shifting gears faster than she would have thought possible, “I don’t mean to be an idiot like all the rest.”

Killian blushed and scratched behind his ear. She practically melted at the way he could so swiftly go from irrepressible flirt to sweet boyfriend. She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Emma crumpled up the Cheeto bag and stuffed it into her lunch bag. She handed the wad of trash to her boyfriend sweetly, batting her lashes exaggeratedly. Killian took her trash, chuckling as he stood up.

“You don’t have to use doe eyes to get me to do things for you,” he told her before walking to the trash can beside the front doors.

“I don’t?”

“Never,” he answered as he returned to her side. He sat back down on the floor, his back against the wall, and pulled her snug against his chest.

“So you’ll just wait on me hand and foot?”

“Like the princess you are.”

“Wow, I should really take more advantage of how whipped you are,” she joked.

Killian retaliated by tickling her in the ribs. She wriggled and laughed, but made no attempt to pull away from him. She glanced around, saw no adults, and then pressed her lips to his.

He kissed her back, sliding a hand into her hair. They kept it brief, not wanting to get caught. Storybrooke High gave demerits for PDA. Emma was tempted to just take the demerits so she could kiss her boyfriend thoroughly, but Coach Ava would pull her from the competition line up if she got one more demerit. So Emma just sighed and snuggled against Killian’s chest. He began to idly play with her hair.

“How many demerits do you get for PDA?”

Emma craned her neck to look at him. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

He grinned down at her rakishly. “I didn’t. But how many?”

Emma frowned. “It’s not bad, but it’s still too many for me. I’ve already gotten five demerits and six will get me cut from competition.”

“Scandalous. How did you get five demerits, love?”

Emma grumbled as she shoved a stray hair out of her eyes. “The first two I got because I argued with Mr. Gold about a paper he unfairly gave me a C- on. Then he wrote me up just for questioning him about it!”

“The bastard. And the other three?”

“That was me being stupid. I used the vending machine after noon.”

Killian’s laughter shook his chest, making Emma smile.

“That’s a stupid rule anyway.”

“I know, right? I forgot my lunch!” Emma tightened her arms around Killian. “Principal Mills did let me keep the chips, though.”

They were silent for a moment. Killian was still playing with her hair. She felt him take a deep breath and release it.

“Have you told the squad yet? About UK?”

Emma sighed. She figured he would ask her this eventually. “I will.”

“Emma -”

“I will.” She knew she needed to. Her friends could tell something was off, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted at any more practices.

Or any competitions.

Of course, if she screwed up this badly at a competition, The University of Kentucky might change their minds.

#cs ff #captain swan movie marathon #csmm #bring it on au #lieutenant duckling #high school au

40 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

Nova Ch 12

AN: I’ve been waiting to write this chapter for so long! Can you believe it’s been a year since I started this story?

Ch 12: Mare

AO3 Link

Dear Mickey Mouse Calendar,

It’s May 2nd, and you know what that means! Well, besides bringing May flowers of course! The flowers are going to be so beautiful this year, I can tell! Especially once they bring the butterflies and the birds and the bees! Oh dear, do you think Brain knows about the factory in the sky that produces cute little mouse babies? I hope so.

Anyway, the beautiful, lovely, fantabulous Pharfignewton’s gonna be running in the Derby in just a little bit! She’s worked really really hard to get this far, and I’m super proud of her! She’s gonna be one step closer to the Triple Crown when she wins!

Anyway, I’m running out of room on this page, so I just wanted to say I love you, Figgy Pudding! May the best mare win!

Love,

Pinky

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky added a heart by his name with a sparkly pink gel pen and blew a kiss to the image of Mickey and Minnie driving a cute little car into the sunset. Then he recapped the pen, washed his hands of extra glitter, and returned to the TV, which had been tuned into the Kentucky Derby for the past two hours.

They were still conducting pre-race interviews with the owners, jockeys, and trainers. Though there were several saddled horses with colorful numbers in the background, none of them were Pharfignewton.

But they were still very beautiful horses, clopping around on the dirt-covered track as they flicked their ears and tails in anticipation of the race.

Several boxes of leftover pizza and paper plates were laid out in front of the television.. It was so nice of the scientists to throw a pizza party and let them have the leftovers! Pepperoni, mac and cheese, and pineapple pizza were all so delicious, and they tasted even better when all three were combined on a single slice!

Pinky popped a pineapple cube in his mouth, giggling as it stung his tongue. Then he turned to his hat, which laid a short distance away from the leftover pizza so it didn’t get soiled. Lovely, glittery red and purple roses decorated the outside of the hat, and every inch was decked with colorful feathers, encouraging messages, and Pharfignewton’s name so everybody for miles around could see he was rooting for his favorite horse.

Since the hat was too big and heavy for him to wear throughout the pre-race festivities, he decided to just put it on a few minutes before the race instead.

And it was so sweet of Gummy, Madame Daisy, Nicholas, and Mr. Button to support Pharfignewton! They were all gathered in front of the TV so they could watch the Derby too!

Pinky’s ear twitched at a gagging noise on his left, and he turned his head just in time to see Brain spit a chunk of pineapple onto a napkin.

“Of all things, why in Selene’s name would you ruin perfectly good cheese with battery acid?” Brain snapped. He immediately dunked his muzzle into a thimble of water.

“Batteries aren’t a pizza topping,” Pinky said. Did batteries look like pineapples on New Selene? “And pineapple pizza tastes delicious!”

Brain scowled as he shoved the paper plate with his barely touched pineapple pizza slice towards Pinky, then grabbed a new plate and loaded it with two slices of pepperoni.

“I’m outlawing that vile piece of filth you call food as soon as I rule the world,” Brain declared.

“You can’t do that!” Pinky cried. What was next? Declaring pumpkin spice illegal? He would never support such an awful law! “That’s...that’s just unconstitutional! A breach of power! I won’t stand for it, Brain!”

Then he realized he was standing up to grab the pineapple pizza slice, so he promptly sat down and chomped on pineapple, tomato sauce, and bread to prove his point.

Brain wrinkled his nose, but before he could reply, the TV panned to show a beautiful, gray-maned white horse prancing in circles around her jockey, nearly tying him up in her reins.

“That’s her! That’s Pharfignewton!” Pinky yelled, spewing tomato sauce from his mouth. “Hi, Fig! It’s me, Pinky!”

Pinky quickly set his pizza down and slipped the hat on, sitting underneath the brim while the rest of the hat was propped against the counter. He hoped Pharfignewton could see the messages he’d written.

“The cameras aren’t two-way, Pinky,” Brain said, but Pharfignewton whinnied happily, so Pinky knew she could hear him from thousands of miles away!

She wore a beautiful pink cloth over her back with the number fifteen emblazoned in white, with a brown saddle on top. She tossed her head back and whinnied, her reins quivering in the sunlight. Her jockey slipped a pink mask over her face, and when she turned to look at the camera, her gorgeous blue eyes stood out even more.

“You have quite the unusual horse here, Mr. Gardner,” the reporter said to Pharfignewton’s owner, who Pinky recognized by his bushy beard. “Not much of a looker, nor was she sired from any famous line of racehorses. And only one fellow’s bet on her at all.”

Pinky frowned. Not much of a looker? That reporter’s obviously never seen Pharfignewton with the wind flowing through her mane, or the joyful neighs whenever she galloped around a field, or how she practically glowed whenever she ran.

Mr. Gardner leveled a glare at the reporter, who withered from the intense look. “Pharfignewton may have a different build from her fellow racehorses, but she’s a hundred times more passionate about racing than anyone else. It’s true that neither of her parents have competed on the national level, but she’s inherited her mother’s spirit and her father’s diligence, a mixture of traits which will suit her well today.”

“Yes...I’m sure it will,” the reporter muttered. His eyes darted to a chestnut horse with a yellow cloth draped over his back. “Oh, would you look at the time? I don’t believe I’ve gotten a chance to talk with Mayoneighaise’s team yet!”

He scurried off, the cameraman trailing behind him.

A board flashed onscreen, showing the horses’ names and numbers before cutting to commercial.

“Mr. Legs? Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse? Is this entire competition just an excuse to saddle these poor creatures with horrific names?” Brain asked over the noise of a car commercial.

“You can’t saddle a name. You saddle horses, Brain,” Pinky said. Brain could be so confused sometimes.

“And they barely gave Pharfignewton the time of day,” Brain added. “But they dedicated a full fifteen minutes to Arabian Night’s training sessions.”

Pinky shrugged. “Well, Arabian Night worked really hard. He deserved that time. And so does Maximus and Maverick and Black Beauty and Rainbow Dash and-”

“It’s blatant favoritism,” Brain cut in.

The commercial break ended, and the broadcast showed a female reporter approaching an enormous, muscular black stallion with a comically small jockey leading him by the reins. He bore a royal purple cloak with number one written in a fancy golden script on his back. The horse was so dark that Pinky could barely see his eyes or mouth.

“And here we have the clear fan-favorite, Daddy’s Little Angel,” the reporter declared as she carefully approached the horse, who huffed when she got too close to his muzzle. She pulled back, keeping her microphone close to her body. “An excellent track record locally and regionally, highest odds tonight, and a descendant of the famous Triple Crown winner Secretariat. He sure has a lot going for him, don’t you think?”

Daddy’s Little Angel was stoic and handsome, and as his owner and trainer listed off his various accomplishments, Pinky crossed his fingers and toes for good luck. Pharfignewton had a whole lot of competition. Sure, she was the fastest racehorse around these parts, but in the Derby she was a small goldfish in a large aquarium full of other fish.

“Zort! Nope, can’t think like that!” Pinky said, thumping his head with his fist. He didn’t want to have doubts about her talent! She was the best, the swiftest, and the fastest at eating apples and hay! There’s no way she could lose!

“Quiet, Pinky. I’m trying to listen,” Brain said. His pink eyes gleamed with interest as a montage of Daddy’s Little Angel’s previous feats flashed across the screen. “I wouldn’t be opposed to owning a horse like that for ceremonial purposes.”

“Parading around on Pharfignewton sounds lovely,” Pinky sighed dreamily.

He imagined Pharfignewton in a beautiful golden outfit, bells on her reins, and prancing down the street to a cheering crowd while he rode on her back. And there were pretty parade floats and celebrities singing and giant balloons of all his favorite characters!

He was broken out of his fantasy by the sound of a fanfare.

“Attention, all riders and horses! Clear the track and proceed to your stalls! The race will commence shortly!” the announcer declared.

The camera lingered on Daddy’s Little Angel for just a little longer before panning out for a wide shot of the horses and jockeys making their way to the starting point, the trainers leading the horses by the reins and securing them in the stalls.

Fifteen horses dressed in colorful racing garb whinnied and bucked their hind legs in anticipation of the race. Daddy’s Little Angel was in the first stall, the one nearest to the fence. Next to him, a majestic, stout white horse named Maximus took the number two slot. Like Daddy’s Little Angel, he was poised, calm, and determined to win.

Most of the other horses were far more impatient though. Rainbow Dash wouldn’t quit stomping in her stall, and Maverick gave her a warning nip when her tail flicked him one too many times. She didn’t like that at all, and both jockeys fought to get their horses under control.

A cinnamon stallion named Spirit thrashed in his stall, nearly throwing his rider off multiple times while two other people tried to calm him down.

Then they finally showed Pharfignewton. She was in the stall closest to the stands, and while she was penned securely, the workers were all focused on the skittish racehorses.

Pharfignewton flashed a horsey smile to the audience, then lowered her head in anticipation for the race to begin.

Pinky’s fingers, toes, and tail were all crossed. She had to win! This was her dream ever since she was a little filly!

“And they’re off!” the announcer declared as the bell rang and the gates opened. All fifteen horses galloped out of the stalls, kicking up dirt as their hooves thundered against the ground. “Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus off to an early lead! Horsin’ Around’s pulling ahead of Tricky Mickey and...oh! Spirit’s bucked his jockey! That’s gonna cost everyone behind ‘em some time!”

The names and number display at the bottom of the screen shifted around as horses pulled ahead or fell behind.

Pinky’s muscles tensed as Pharfignewton swerved to avoid a riderless Spirit, though Achilles’ Heel was unlucky enough to be caught on a back ankle by a flailing hoof. Pharfignewton fell behind Mr. Legs and Mayoneighase for a split second before increasing her speed and passing them as they reached the first turn.

Pharfignewton was truly in her element! Like a happy, gusty wind spirit!

“YOU CAN DO IT, FIG!” Pinky screamed at the top of his lungs, and there was an angry shushing noise, followed by a parmesan packet smacking the side of his head. “Thanks for the parmesan, Brain!”

“Onto the second turn!” the announcer continued. “Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus neck and neck! Rainbow Dash and Arabian Night fighting for third a mere two lengths away! Maverick trying to squeeze in but there’s no room! Hold onto your fancy hats, folks, this is shaping up to be a wild race!”

Egad, he didn’t want to lose his fancy hat! Pinky clutched the edges with cheese-stained fingers.

“Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus still leading the pack, but trailing them is Black Beauty and Grand Chawhee! Rainbow Dash and Arabian Night have fallen to fifth and sixth! Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse trying for a comeback while Maver-what’s this? Pharfignewton’s clawing her way up from tenth, ninth, eighth, seventh...now she’s passed Rainbow Dash! Ladies and gents, this could be the biggest recovery in the Derby’s history!”

Oh, if only he remembered where he’d placed his cotton ball pom-poms! They’d come in super handy right now!

Black Beauty and Grand Chawhee slowed down on the final turn, enabling Pharfignewton to easily overtake them for third place. Then she poured on the speed, closing in between Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus.

“NARF! GO, PHARFIGNEWTON!” Pinky screeched, his hat tumbling off as he leapt to his feet. If he screamed loud enough, Pharfignewton could hear him all the way in Kentucky! And the power of friendship always worked for last-minute wins! His cartoons were never wrong!

“It’s a straight shot to the finish! Maximus falls back by half a length! Ladies and gents, could this be the greatest upset in horse racing history? It’s Pharfignewton! No, Daddy’s Little Angel pulls ahead! Now Pharfignewton! Daddy’s Little Angel!”

Brain was quiet, but from the twitch of his pointed ears and the way he leaned forward, Pinky knew he was just as invested in the race.

The camera centered on the finish line, but Pinky couldn’t tell who crossed first. Pharfignewton and Daddy’s Little Angel galloped offscreen just as the rest of the pack, led by Maximus, finished after them.

“WHAT’S THIS? PHARFIGNEWTON AND DADDY’S LITTLE ANGEL HAVE CROSSED THE FINISH LINE AT THE SAME TIME! TURNING THE FOOTAGE OVER FOR REVIEW SO WE CAN DECLARE THE WINNER!”

Pinky quickly found that crossing his toes while standing wasn’t the best idea. He fell flat on his face, but quickly pushed himself up on his elbows as the Derby logo flashed by and replayed the last few seconds of the race in slow motion.

Pharfignewton and Daddy’s Little Angel’s legs were just one giant blur next to the finish line, but the reel paused on a shot of Pharfignewton’s flaring nostril crossing the line before Daddy’s Little Angel’s front hooves touched it.

Pinky sucked in his breath.

“PHARFIGNEWTON HAS BEEN DECLARED THE WINNER! CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR VICTORY OVER THE 141ST KENTUCKY DERBY!”

“She did it! She did it! Lo hicimos, she did it!” Pinky jumped for joy, his heart soaring in excitement for Pharfignewton. She was three years old and she’d accomplished so much! He was super duper extra proud of her!

Brain rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, it seems all your supportive efforts have paid off.”

Pinky grinned and tore off a cardboard flap of the pizza box, dumped parmesan cheese all over it, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Nothing tasted better than a victory pizza box with parmesan!

“Want some?” Pinky offered a second flap to Brain. “It’s delicious!”

Brain made a gagging noise. “That can’t possibly be good for your digestive system, Pinky.”

Oh well. More for him then!

Pharfignewton’s back was draped with beautiful roses, her team of humans all rushing up and hugging her as journalists bombarded them all with questions and photographers snapped photo after photo of her horsey smile.

Daddy’s Little Angel trotted up to her with a flower crown in his mouth and dropped it onto her head, then drummed the ground steadily with a front hoof in his version of applause. All the other horses followed his lead. Even Spirit and Achilles’ Heel, who were being restrained by a team of trainers, gave their approval. Pharfignewton whinnied in delight, tossing back her head and showing off the beautiful crown.

She really was the best. Pinky clutched his chest, that warm gooshy feeling of love spreading throughout his body.

He couldn’t contain it much longer, and he picked up Brain to let it all out, and he danced around in joy with a squirming Brain in his arms.

“Pinky, I understand that this outcome is most favorable, but I demand that you cease this at once!” Brain complained.

But Pinky barely heard him. He was more interested in what Mr. Gardner had to say.

“Pharfignewton did an amazing job and we’re very proud of her,” Mr. Gardner said as he fed Pharfignewton an apple, which she gladly inhaled. “Running’s in her blood, and I’m sure she’s made her parents very proud in equine heaven. She’s definitely gonna take the Preakness and Belmont by storm.”

“You think she’s capable of gaining Triple Crown status?” the reporter asked.

Pharfignewton neighed loudly in her direction, messing up the reporter’s hair.

As the reporter struggled to fix it, Mr. Gardner smiled. “I think she made it clear that she takes what she wants.”

Two more races for the Triple Crown. Right.

Pinky stopped dancing, an odd but featherlight weight in his arms. In his excitement, he’d forgotten that Pharfignewton had to win the Preakness and Belmont for her dream to come true.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it. She was a swift runner and the best racehorse in the world. But she would be gone for several months. All the way on the other side of the country.

And he wanted her to achieve her dream so bad. To rank up there with the great racehorses of old.

“Pinky?” a voice choked.

He was accidentally squishing one of Brain’s antennae. Oops.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky quickly said, putting his friend down.

Instead of stepping away like Pinky expected, Brain remained where he was. Brain was too good at forming unreadable expressions. His pretty pink eyes seemed concerned though.

“This is a momentous occasion, isn’t it?” Brain asked. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

Was that Selenian speak for happy?

Yeah, he was supposed to be happy. Pharfignewton won. He was really happy for her. He didn’t want Pharfignewton to think he was a bad friend because he was sad about not seeing her for a while.

“Of course I’m happy for her,” Pinky said. But it was flimsy even to his own mousey ears.

Brain didn’t seem convinced either. One hand awkwardly hovered in the space between them.

A little touch would be nice, and he held super still so Brain wouldn’t get spooked. But a tapping at the window broke Brain’s trance, and upon the sight of a hovering black camera with the Selenian logo on its side, he quickly pulled away.

“Correspondence from Snowball,” Brain said. His ears flattened briefly before returning to their normal position. Maybe he regretted breaking their closeness too. “I’m taking this.”

He wiped his fingers on a wet cloth before unlatching the window. The camera darted in once the window was open, its tripod claws dropping an unmarked envelope into Brain’s hands before flying off into the brilliant evening sky.

Well, it could’ve had pizza if it stayed just a little longer.

Pinky moved behind Brain as he tore open the envelope and unfolded the note inside, which was written in a neat script.

Pickup at seven pm tomorrow. Don’t be late.

-Snowball

“Well, it’s better than nothing,” Brain sighed. “I’ll make sure we have everything required for tomorrow night, Pinky.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He only disappeared into a hidden drawer where all their belongings were stored.

The masquerade ball was important. He shouldn’t keep Brain from making sure they saved the invitation so they could get in.

And it would be nice to wear that beautiful dress Sharon picked out.

But there was an ache in his chest. One that gnawed at his heart, and he didn’t want that icky feeling gnawing at his heart. Pinky sat in front of the TV and focused on Pharfignewton’s happiness instead. He pushed away the pizza, the box tasting like cardboard on his tongue.

If she was happy, he was happy. And wasn’t that all he needed?

End AN: So as a little treat I snuck some fictional horse names in here. I mean, obviously you know Pharfignewton as Pinky’s equine girlfriend. Daddy’s Little Angel is the name of the horse Brain rode in the OG Animaniacs episode Jockey for Position.

Grand Chawhee’s name is a reference to All Dogs Go to Heaven. Tricky Mickey comes from the 1978 movie Casey’s Shadow, which I caught my family watching a few weeks ago and I just decided to borrow a name from the movie.

Rainbow Dash from My Little Pony, Maximus from Tangled, Black Beauty from the book of the same name, Spirit from the Dreamworks movie, and Achilles’ Heel is a reference to Phoebus’ horse in Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Mr. Legs’ name provided by Boxy. Thank you, Boxy. Snuck in Pinky actually eating a pizza box for ya lol.

Final placements for the Derby are:

1. Pharfignewton 2. Daddy’s Little Angel 3. Maximus 4. Grand Chawhee 5. Black Beauty 6. Rainbow Dash 7. Arabian Night 8. Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse 9. Mr. Legs 10. Maverick 11. Horsin’ Around 12. Tricky Mickey 13. Mayoneighase 14. Achilles’ Heel (never finished) 15. Spirit (never finished)

Next chapter will finally have the Masquerade Ball and boy do I have plans. It’ll definitely be longer than this one. But this chapter at least wraps up the Derby subplot.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #patb nova

9 notes · View notes

bubbleweirdo · 3 years

Text

Alegría

Chapter: 5/?

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Summary: A wild night for Joy.

Words: 2.917

Main relationship: Javier Escuella/OC

Other relationships: Charles Smith/OC, Arthur Morgan/OC

Characters: Van der Linde gang

Author's note: Hi, I'm back... For now, at least lmao

While trying to write chapter 6 I realized I never posted chapter 5 and that... maybe... it was time to do it................. Anyways, hope y'all find it enjoyable!

The same day she and Javier returned from the stage robbery, Dutch arrived at night with a boy riding behind him. Joy was on duty when The Count appeared with the two men on top of him. After greeting her, Dutch took him to the entrance of the camp, where they both dismounted. She followed them with her eyes curiously, but immediately focused back on her task. However she could hear from where she was how Dutch presented him to the others: Leonard Summers -“But you can call me Lenny!”-.

The next day after lunch, Dutch called her to his tent, where the newcomer was too.

“Miss Joy, would you be so kind as to take Mr. Summers into town? And by the way help him choose a good mount, I know you have an eye for it.” He asked with a charismatic smile.

“Sure, why not?” She replied looking at the guy. “Let’s go?”

“Uh, sure, let’s go.” He said with a kind smile.

Joy walked over to where the horses were grazing looking for Berry, who was rubbing her head against the body of Old Belle, Karen's mare. Before guiding her to the beginning of the road, she walked over to the Nokota and patted her on the neck. Once there she mounted and held out her hand to Lenny, which helped him up.

They trotted through the grove that led to the main road and headed for the town.

“And what has Dutch seen in you, Mr. Summers?”

“He saw me running away from bounty hunters and helped me avoid them. After that we talked, and well, here I am I guess.”

“Sounds like Dutch.” She chuckled.

“I’m very grateful. Since I was fifteen I’ve been alone, running from one place to another.”

“How old are you now?”

“Eighteen.”

Joy turned her head and looked at him, incredulous. It had seemed to her that he was at least twenty, like Sean or Mary-Beth.

“What?! That young?! I thought you were older.”

Lenny laughed out loud.

“That flatters me.”

“Now I feel like I'm babysitting.” She said playfully.

“That’s rude Miss Joy!” She burst out laughing and kept teasing him along the way. He was complaining but seemed to be having fun too. They arrived at the town stable and asked the stable keeper to show them his horses for sale. After taking a look at each one, Joy selected two: a grey Kentucky Saddler and a palomino Mustang.

“These babies are in great shape and look pretty sweet.” She said, stroking the face of the first. “I think you could use a horse like that, affable.”

He watched them both thoughtfully.

“I think I will keep this one.” He decided, pointing to the Mustang. The man nodded and while he went to look for the mare's documents his assistant began to prepare her to saddle and bridle her. When he returned, she was ready and Joy paid the corresponding amount while Lenny kept the papers.

“What are you gonna call her?” She asked once they were out.

“Maggie, I think.”

“Suits her. As sweet as her.” She smiled.

“Will you accompany me to the general store? I want to buy chewing tobacco. Then we can have a drink. He said walking towards the establishment.

“Okay!” The two of them entered the store and while Lenny picked up the box, Joy peered through the products. A fishing rod caught her attention. It looked consistent and was definitely in a better condition than the one Tommy used. He didn't complain about it but many times when she accompanied him to fish she could see how the reel wasn’t working exactly as it should. She remembered that it would be his birthday soon, maybe she could give him one. She had enough money to afford some of the more expensive ones but she didn't have much idea of which one would fit her brother better so she decided that she would ask Javier to accompany her when she went to buy it, he had more idea about that.

Lenny paid and they both headed for the saloon. There were quite a few people and a man played a happy tune on the piano. They ordered their drinks and sat at a table to talk.

“So you like horses?” He asked her, drinking from his glass.

“Yeah. My family used to have quite a few, we would sell them at Valentine's and Strawberry's stables, but when my parents passed away I couldn't deal with so many anymore so we just kept Berry. What do you like?”

“Reading, I guess. A lot of things can be learned.” Joy rested her chin on her hand.

“I envy you. I know how to read but it’s so boring…”

“That's because you haven't found one that you like.”

“Maybe. My mother started buying me romance novels when I was twelve and let me tell you, they were tedious. At first they were fine but when I grew up I realized that they were just absurd fantasies.”

“I heard they’re quite corny.” He commented.

“They are.” She huffed. “I suppose I am resentful because they put an idea in your head about what love is that in the end doesn’t match reality...” She took a drink from her whiskey.

“Hadn’t thought of that. Not that I have read any.” Lenny said with a shrug.

They continued talking for another couple of hours, they had gotten along well. Then Joy realized that a girl who was leaning against the wall behind Lenny kept looking at him. She was young, perhaps of his age, and had her brown hair half tied. It was clear from her gaze that she wasn’t exclusively interested in the money she could get out of him. She probably hadn't tried anything because Joy was there. She leaned across the table to whisper to him.

“Pssst. Pretty girl interested in you behind you.” He looked at her confused.

“What?”

“Good luck.” She rose from her seat and raised her voice enough that the girl could hear her well. “Sorry boy, I'm not interested in you, you're too young for me.” She sighed theatrically and walked away to the bar under the stunned gaze of her new friend. Out of the corner of her eye she could see how the girl sat in the seat that she had just left and began to talk to Lenny. He was nervous but she seemed to like that. After a while they both got up and went upstairs. Joy smiled to herself.

A man stood beside her at the bar. He was tall, because of how his clothes adapted to his body, he didn't seem very muscular, but neither was he untrained. His short black hair was slicked back but some strands fell on his forehead.

“Hello Miss.” He greeted her, fixing his green eyes on hers. Joy raised an eyebrow, amused. He was handsome.

“Hello Mister.”

“Can I invite you to a drink?”

“Sure. A whiskey for both of us.” She asked the waiter.

“I see that you have good taste.”

“So it seems.” She said raising the glass to her mouth without breaking eye contact.

“What would you say if after this you and I go somewhere else?” He asked doing the same. Joy almost choked on the question. Trying not to laugh, she replied.

“You are very direct, aren’t you?”

“I don't have time for games.” He said winking at her and shortening the space between them.

Normally going so fast would have been a reason to reject him, but it had been a long time since she had relationships and honestly? That man was very attractive. She drained the glass in one gulp and set it on the bar.

“Alright.” She agreed, walking out the back door of the saloon. There was nobody there. She turned to look at the man but he put her against the wall and kissed her passionately. She gasped when their tongues began to play with each other. He continued to kiss her neck, as he unbuttoned the buttons of her shirt and lifted the chemise, revealing her freckled breasts. He grabbed one eagerly and twisted her nipple, causing a moan in her. He pulled down her pants and bloomers and brought his mouth to her crotch. Joy sighed, anticipating the contact, but what she felt was... discomfort. The stranger used his tongue at full speed at her entrance, causing more discomfort than pleasure. She cursed in her mind, she had to stop him but she didn't want the meeting to end.

“Didn't you say you didn't have time for games? Fuck me!” She said between mock gasps.

“How rude. What do you say?” he replied, continuing whatever he was doing down there.

“Please! Please…!” -Please stop.-

“Well then…” He got up, quickly pulled down his pants, lifted Joy by the legs, and inserted his member into her. She welcomed him willingly, clutching at his shoulders as he rammed her faster and faster. The man, between grunts, pulled out to come. When he caught his breath, he lowered her to the ground and began putting on his clothes.

Joy followed suit, somewhat disappointed but not entirely dissatisfied. She wished she had an orgasm, but she had missed the feeling of being full of someone and had enjoyed it.

“It was good.” He commented.

“Yeah. Lucky that no one was here.” He smiled.

“Well, I’m leaving. Miss…” He said goodbye with two fingers to his forehead. She replied the same, amused and went back inside the establishment.

After an hour chatting with the bartender, she checked that Lenny was still with the girl -she asked her coworkers and also put her ear to the door of the room they were in to make sure- and decided that she wasn’t going to wait any longer for him, who knew when they would finish. Before riding Berry and heading back to camp, she stroked Maggie's neck. She couldn't help it, if she had a horse nearby she needed to pet them.

When she arrived Javier was on duty.

“Who’s there?”

“The joy of the house.” She answered dismounting.

“How come you are so late? And hadn't you go out with the newbie?”

“Oh, don’t worry, we went drinking and then we parted to have our own fun. And it seems he was having a greeeeeeat time.” She giggled and winked at him. Javier cleared his throat, uncomfortable. Weird. Normally he would joke back. Maybe he didn't like Lenny? “Anyway I was wondering if these days you could come with me to choose a fishing rod for Tommy, his birthday will be soon.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you!”

Once at camp Joy changed her clothes, putting on her nightgown and loosening her two braids to collect her hair back into one only. Going to her bedroll, she noticed that her brother was still awake.

“How come you're not asleep yet?” She asked lying down facing him.

“I was worried you weren't coming back.” Joy smiled bitterly.

“I'm sorry I worried you.”

“I know you can defend yourself but... I'm afraid something like what happened at home will happen again.” Tommy confessed, his eyes watered.

“Oh, Tommy, my boy…” She kissed his face and when she pulled away she started stroking his hair. “I love you, you know that, right?” He nodded.

“Me too.” Joy smiled.

“How about I sing you a lullaby to sleep?” He nodded again. She cleared her throat and started:

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word,

Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.

And if that mockingbird don't sing,

Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

And if that diamond ring turns brass,

Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass.

And if that looking glass gets broke,

Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat,

And if that billy goat get cross,

Mama's gonna buy you a rocking horse.

And if that rocking horse turns over,

Mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark,

Mama's gonna buy you a horse and a cart.

And if that horse and cart fall down,

You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town…”

And they both fell asleep.

Four days had passed and on the last one it had rained. Far from being uncomfortable, Joy had appreciated it. It was a hot summer and as soon as the first drops hit the ground they were very well received. The next day had stopped raining, but the smell of damp earth was still there, the ground covered in puddles. That's where the game started for her. After finishing all her tasks Joy looked for Tommy. He was behind the camp with Jack, drawing strokes on the ground with a stick.

She sneaked up from behind making a silent gesture to Strauss, who was sitting on a log doing the math and could see Joy's intentions perfectly. He only looked at her for a moment with a polite smile and turned his attention back to his work, ignoring her.

When she was close enough she flexed her knees and jumped into a puddle without any regard, splashing at Tommy and Jack.

“Hey!” the older boy yelled, falling forward in shock. Jack started to laugh and plunged into the puddle, jumping over and over. Tommy pounced on her and they started a fight, splashing and pushing each other.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Abigail exclaimed, hurrying over to them. Tommy stopped dead in his tracks and jumped up, straightening up.

“I’m sorry Miss Roberts.” He apologized, embarrassed. Beside him Jack had stopped jumping.

“Oh, come on Abby, we’re just having fun.” Joy said pouting.

“Y’all are getting dirty and that’s just more work for later!”

“Come on Abby!”

Abigail looked at her impassively. She sighed.

“Okay, help me up.”

As soon as she held out her hand Joy pulled her and dragged her along, staining her with mud.

“Joy Collins, you are…!” She screeched before splashing her. Joy laughed and Abigail followed suit, never stopping her attacks. Realizing that his mother had joined the party, Jack allowed himself to keep jumping and Tommy joined him.

They had made quite a fuss, and an authoritative hawk took them out of the game.

“Miss Collins, Miss Roberts, set an example for your children and clean yourselves immediately! We are a gang of outlaws, not one of savages.”

They both nodded and Grimshaw walked away to speak to Pearson. Abigail tapped Joy on the shoulder in a friendly way and stood up.

“Come on, we have to clean us up.”

They took spare clothes and soap and approached the river, moving away from the camp a little to have privacy. They cleaned themselves thoroughly and helped the children to do it as well. When they were done, the boys ran out to grab a plate of stew.

"Be careful!" Abigail warned them. She turned to Joy. "I must admit that I had a good time."

She smiled.

"That was the plan! We all need a moment of fun sooner or later."

"You’re right. Being a mother is difficult and even more so if there isn't..." She stopped and sighed.

“I understand.” She put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “If you need anything you know I’m here.” Abigail nodded and put her hand over hers before leaving.

“So mud fights, how mature.” Daniela said sarcastically.

“Yes, you should try, it's fun.” Joy replied with a smile, rolling her eyes.

“I pass. I prefer to see them. I liked how you fooled Abigail.”

Joy laughed. She picked up a plate of stew and sat next to her. Laughter drew her attention from the main fire. Javier was telling one of his adventures to Jenny. Since that conversation they had in the cabin, the two of them spent more time together. They had always been close but now they were almost inseparable. Joy supposed that he had decided to turn the page on his love from Mexico and start something with her. She was envious of how well they got along. She also wanted a relationship like that and she had long since given up hope with Mary-Beth, you could tell she only had eyes for men.

She sighed and Daniela giggled.

“What?”

“No, nothing…” She replied with a certain sarcasm. Joy eyed her suspiciously, but decided to let it go.

They continued talking quietly until Javier's voice caught their attention. He was still sitting by the main fire, Jenny was gone and he was singing in spanish.

“What do the lyrics say? Sounds sad.” Joy asked Daniela curiously.

“Oh, it is. He sings it once in a while. Talks about a man who feels betrayed by the woman he loves because she’s in love with another man.”

It wasn't difficult for Joy to understand why he sang that song. It wasn't so easy to get rid of those feelings even though he was now with someone else, she supposed.

“Sometimes I would like to know what his songs say.”

Daniela giggled again.

“Seriously, what's wrong with you?”

“Nothing, nothing... If you want to know what they say, I can teach you spanish.”

“Would you really do that?”

“Uhuh, why not?”

“Because right now you’re the most suspicious person I've ever seen.”

Daniela laughed out loud.

“Calm down bonita, I'm serious.” she held out her hand.

“Mm…” She looked into her eyes before shaking her hand. “Alright…”

“It’s settled then.”

#Javier Escuella/OC #Javier Escuella/Reader #Charles Smith/OC #Arthur Morgan/OC #Javier Escuella x OC #Javier Escuella x Reader #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Fanfic #My writing

14 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 4 years

Note

If you're taking requests could you do one where reader is normally a tom boy and has to wear a dress for an event and she's embarrassed to wear it and which ever boy even Pedro himself assures you that you are really beautiful. Sorry I have a wedding to go to and I'm not looking forward to wearing a dress. Please and thank you.

***Good luck at the wedding. I went for Whiskey since Statesman is more of a rough and tumble agency.

The Dress

She stared at the image on the screen in horror. “No, hell no. Not happening. EVER.”

There were chuckles around the room, the other members of Statesmen apparently not taking her seriously. Her glare cut off all of them with the exception of Champ and Whiskey.

She pushed back from the table, picking up her glass and tossing back the smooth bourbon. “Whiskey’d look better in that dress than I would.”

With that comment, newly minted Agent Tequila walked out of the room.

****

He found her out at the stables. She was furiously mucking out the stall of her horse. There were times he thought she might be deadlier with the tools around the barn than with her actually weapons.

“Why’d you run out darlin? You missed some good jokes at my expense.” Whiskey drawled as he leaned against the door and picked at a piece of clean hay in his hands.

Y/N huffed as she stabbed the sodden hay just a bit harder. “I don’t do “girly”. She spat.

She couldn’t see it, but Jack nodded his head. She had always been the one more comfortable in jeans and a button down. Wearing cowboy boots was second nature to the former sheriff’s deputy from deep woods Tennessee.

He straightened and ambled over to where she had traded the pitchfork for the long handled brush, furiously scrubbing at the cobblestone floor. His hand on her wrist made her stop and look up at him.

“The mission calls for it. We all do things we don’t like for the good of the mission, Tequila.” He advised somberly. He patted her back and walked back towards the distillery, giving her some space to think.

****

He tapped on the door. “Tequila, you know you have to come out darlin’. We need to leave.”

He tried not to grin at the flurry of curses that came from behind the door on the jet. She and Ginger had been in there for hours. Muffled protests and outrage filtering out into the common area as they flew towards their destination.

He heard Ginger shooing Y/N towards the door. The loud sigh was annoyed as the lock turned and the door opened.

He didn’t blink, mouth opened to make a comment but was lost as he forgot how to breath. His tongue felt heavy and suddenly the room felt hotter than a Kentucky summer heatwave.

Her hair, normally up in a ponytail, was loose and wavy as it cascaded gracefully down her shoulders. That were bare. He had only ever seen her forearms or a tiny peek of skin where her shirt opened at the collar. Now he saw everything.

Smooth shoulders that appeared sun kissed. The delicate bones of her clavicle. The dress was made for her. It hugged her form and made her curves appear lush. The silken material draping gracefully.

Her make up was light, meant to highlight her natural beauty. The kohl around her eyes made them seem brighter, yet more mysterious. She was quite honestly, the most beautiful thing Whiskey had seen in such a long time.

She took his silence as a bad thing. Making a small whimper of embarrassment. Jack shook his head to clear his stupor. He held out his hand, dapper in his formal tuxedo and dress boots.

He cleared his throat, drawing her eyes up to his. “Y/N, you are stunning. I will spend my entire night fending off would be suitors, because I have the prettiest girl in the place on my arm.” He drawled, eyes drinking her in.

Y/N blushed as she stepped closer. “It just the dress. Like putting lipstick on a pig.”

His laugh curled in her stomach, sparking wicked heat inside her. “Oh no darlin’, the appeal is just you alone. The dress is just the cherry on top.”

MasterList

Permanent Tag List:

@mudhornmando @thewaythisis @thisis-theway @readsalot73 @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @little-ms-fandom @ah-callie @cable-kenobi @roxypeanut @arrowswithwifi @hanelijoy @javierpenaspinkshirt @wickedfrsgrl @jade10077 @lilangeldevil006 @fioccodineveautunnale @getinthepoolkeanu @kirstiehenderson29 @fleurdemiel145 @thirsty-flygirl @sirianfromsixties @random066 @pascalisthepunkest @pedrosdoll @whataenginerd

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #agent whiskey fanfic #whiskey kingsman #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #whiskey x y/n #whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader

222 notes · View notes

dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Bluegrass-Chapter 26 Final

A special thanks to @statell for your help and wisdom

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter Twenty-six

Claire popped her head up after examining Porcelain, “we have pre-ovulation Jamie, she is ready…today.”

“I’ll call Jason and get him back here.”

Claire smiled to herself because she could hear Jamie’s excitement. He was on pins and needles being so close to the big reveal, is Runner fertile? She brought Porcelain into season early by using lights for an extra five hours each day. The lights above her stall were timed to go on at two o’clock in the morning. That and hormones worked like a charm, it was finally time.

Jason strode into the breeding room and pulled the leather neck cover from a cabinet. He put it over Porcelain’s neck for protection from biting. Her tail had been wrapped for the same reason. She was washed and ready for her prince. Jason looked at Rupert holding her halter, Angus ready to capture leaking semen, and Jamie biting his nails.

“Everybody relax!” He quickly composed himself, “please, is what I meant to say, please relax and pretend like you do this every day. This is something new but please don’t let it show to the horses.”

Jason had almost completed his month of training at a nearby stud farm where he was hands-on in the breeding barn where things sometimes go catastrophically wrong. The stress was palpable today and that is when people make mistakes.

Jamie looked at Jason and appreciated his authority. He chose the right man for the job.

Claire walked in with Runner and handed the lead to Jason. He coaxed him forward as Runner smelled Porcelain’s honey pot raising his head in the air and curling his lips back. He was more than a little interested and tried to mount her immediately. He slid to her side, basically falling off. Jason was reassuring and backed Runner so his nose was in Porcelain’s butt again. This time Runner was spot on and entered her for a total of one minute if that.

When Runner moved off her, Angus shoved his penis into a collecting tube and looked the other way, blushing crimson.

Jamie congratulated everyone on a job well done as the horses were being led away. He took a double-take at Claire’s face and had to cough several times so he didn’t laugh. She would need him right away, so he quickened his pace to put Runner away.

“Well, an exciting start to our new venture. That went well, don’t you think?”

Jamie put his arm around her waist so he could direct her to his office, on the double. With the door closed and locked he turned into a purring panther and his eyes bored holes into Claire’s body. As he circled her his hand felt her gorgeous ass and then her breast.

Claire giggled nervously. Watching Runner cover Porcelain shot her arousal into a new stratosphere. She needed to get Jamie home for an hour and fought to control herself this close to him.

“Let me see them, Claire,” he breathed into her ear. “Please lass, make them bounce for me for just a minute.”

Jamie had her shirt unbuttoned in thirty seconds and unclasped her bra. Her naked breasts, now bigger due to the pregnancy, were out and proud for her man. He closed in on her holding one of them in his warm hand. Squeezing and caressing, pinching her nipple until she grasped at him. He held her bra out and then clasped it back to her body. He re-buttoned her shirt while her chest heaved from the contact.

“I…I am going home to rest a bit before my afternoon appointments.”

“Let me drive ye lass, I could use a nap myself.”

When they were safely away from the barn Claire attached herself to Jamie making him stretch his neck to see around her. She ran her tongue up his neck to his ear and circled it, warm and wet. Jamie made a land-speed record getting home and lifted her out of the truck.

“Why Misses Fraser, ye look positively done in by what ye saw.”

Claire’s half-lidded eyes sent a clear warning that he was not to dally and tease because she needed hardcore loving this instant. Jamie laughed and carried her up to the bedroom.

“How would the lady like to be loved today?”

“I need a brute.”

Jamie chuckled at her intensity, “Well then, one brute coming up.”

The first scan to test for pregnancy is scheduled fifteen days after live cover, and the whole barn seemed ready to explode with the waiting. On day fifteen, Jason assisted Claire with Porcelain’s scan while Jamie waited outside the stall. Claire knew he was pacing and smiled to herself. She could already see the bump of a tiny developing horse. She was overcome, “oh Porcelain.” Claire laid her head on the mare's neck and Jamie mistook her action for an empty uterus. He stopped pacing and stared at her.

“You are going to be such a good mother sweetheart.”

“Is she or not Sassenach?”

Claire smiled and shook her head yes. Jamie exhaled the breath he was holding and whoops went up throughout the barn. Runner was fertile, Porcelain was pregnant, and the fanciest mares in the nation would start coming in next week. Those that were from Kentucky would be transported to the compound for breeding and returned home. Those that were flown in would stay for at least twenty days, some longer if they did not conceive on with the first cover.

It was a glorious time at Highland Brothers Farm.

As spring came to Kentucky, the wildflowers bloomed, the rain came, the fields and pastures were blue-green and lush, and new babies practiced using their long legs to run and leap.

Jason walked into the breeding barn every morning and reviewed the mares to be covered with Claire. They had to work very closely to schedule them and with Lulu’s help made sure each mare was covered as many times as necessary without exhausting Runner or depleting his sperm count. It was a revolving door of mares into and out of their facility that kept Claire on her feet all day and sometimes all night with a foaling dam. Night watch was shared between Rupert, Angus, Jason, and Jamie, to keep the mares calm and call Claire when a dam was in labor.

When Steve graduated from the academy, he joined Jamie’s crew because they needed another set of hands. He pitched in with breeding through may and took one night a week to sleep in the barn. He loved being at the compound but still dreamed of racing to a fire almost every night. When he was hired by a local fire station Jamie and Claire threw him a party with the whole crew and Steve’s friends from the academy. Claire was so proud of him.

Jamie worried constantly about Claire. She had stepped back from her practice in mid-July because she was exhausted from the workload of the past six months. She could rest more now that the foals were all born, and the breeding season was over. She was back to cooking sumptuous meals every night and created a magnificent nursery with Jamie.

“Sweetheart, Molly is here to drive me to town for supplies. We will stop for coffee or something so two hours tops.”

She leaned over his shoulder and kissed his cheek and then she was gone. Jamie was on his phone the second the front door closed and shortly after, Rupert, Angus, and Steve, joined Jamie on hands and knees as they assembled the track and narrow shelf that would go completely around the nursery. Jamie kept looking at his watch as the shelf was installed and then the track. When the train pieces were pulled out, they all started playing with them as Jamie rolled his eyes.

When Claire came home, she found Jamie sitting in the same chair with the same work in front of him. She smiled, so happy he could relax a bit and just sit while she was gone.

“Wait Sassenach, let me carry those bags upstairs. Come with me to point to where these belong.”

Claire reached for the switch, but the light did not go on. Instead, an adorable train, five cars long, with multicolored lights underneath it, was rolling along a track that had not been there when she left. She was mesmerized watching it. Bubbles poured out of the smokestack and the rhythmic noise was almost hypnotizing.

“That is the cutest little train! How did you do all this while I was gone?”

“The lads helped.”

Jamie screwed the light bulb tighter into the lamp and the room flooded with light. “I wanted ye to first see it like the bairn will see it .”

Claire walked around the room looking at the mitered shelf that was attached to the wall without visible means of support. She looked closely at the train, so cute, and gender-neutral.

They had opted out of ultrasounds through Claire’s pregnancy unless medically necessary. She was sure it was a girl, but poor Jamie was completely in the happy-dark. She hugged her husband moving the beach ball to the side.

“You are already the best father, sweetheart.”

Jamie’s chest tightened with that compliment and he hugged her as close as he dared. One more month was going to kill him, but manage he must.

Claire slowed down during the next week. Under the watchful eye of her husband, she had plenty of time to rest up for the big event. Jamie worried about the distance to Lexington hospital, but they were prepared for a long labor and would leave with the first contraction. He had devoured four books on gestation, childbirth, and emergency procedures during labor and delivery. The latter he requested from Steve and read it three times when alone in his office. He was prepared for any eventuality and presented a composed and strong demeanor to Claire for which she was grateful.

Jamie’s head popped up from his work when he heard Claire coming into his office.

“Sassenach! What a nice surprise. Everything okay love?”

She seemed timid when she sat down on his office couch with a sigh. “Yes, I am right as rain, maybe a bit lonely in the house is all. Can I help with anything?”

Jamie kept her busy with the build-up of tasks while Lulu and Jason were on vacation. Anywhere he went in the barn, she was right behind him. He had to turn slowly or run her down. Something about that neediness was a warning sign to Jamie and he put his arm around her to lead her back to the office. She moved from the couch to the chair across from his desk and sighed a lot.

“I think a nice drive to Lexington is in order Sassenach. Please don’t move, I’m tellin the lads we’re leaving.”

Jamie hoped she would stay seated and ran through the compound whistling for his friends. While he explained he was taking Claire to the hospital they heard a blood-curdling scream from his office and started running.

“Claire! What’s happened?”

She was on her hands and knees on the floor, breathing heavily.

“My water broke and I want to push! It feels like she is right between my legs Jamie!”

“That’s impossible,” he whispered. With the emergency procedures forgotten at the moment, Jamie called the fire station and asked for Steve. He described the symptoms and heard the one thing he dreaded.

“Get her to the couch, on her back, get several clean sheets, a pillow, a stack of towels. I bring the rest, be there in five.”

The line went dead in Jamie’s hand and he stared at the phone until Claire screamed his name. He held out house keys to Angus, told him where the linens were kept, and told him what to bring. Angus ran for his truck to gather the supplies.

Claire was barely hanging on through the painful contractions and bit down on the pain to stop the scream that threatened to come out. She heard the wail of the sirens coming and vaguely recognized the sound of a fire engine. She wondered where the fire was until another contraction gripped her and she told Jamie she had to push. He asked her to puff with him, but she couldn’t hear him anymore. Her body was responding to the ancient call to bear down and she could not stop.

When Steve came rushing into the office, he was carrying two large cases that were quickly opened as monitors were attached to Claire. The sheets were delivered, and Steve covered the couch and Claire’s lower half. He talked to her the whole time, explaining what was happening. When he looked under the sheet he almost fainted. The baby was crowning and on her next push, he could see much more of the head.

Two other EMT’s came in, one had an open line to the hospital, the other was checking the monitors. Jamie felt so helpless and terrified. Steve asked him to sit at Claire’s head and hold her hand, encourage her to push when she got too tired. He gently held the baby’s head and pressed back on Claire’s tissue as someone handed him a bulb aspirator to clear the airways.

Steve never stopped talking to Claire who was struggling to find the energy to keep up the constant pushing. The next contraction pushed one shoulder out and Claire laid back on the pillow and panted. Jamie caught a tear that squeezed out the corner of her eye and kissed her cheek before resuming his prayers. He was white with fright.

Steve looked at the monitor and saw another contraction coming, he hoped this would at least get the other shoulder out, it was the hardest part for Claire. When she was gripped with the powerful pain, Jamie helped her up as she groaned, red-faced, into the pushing. It went on longer than the others and it panicked Jamie until he heard Steve’s excited voice telling her to push, it was almost over.

“Jamie! Come here and see your baby girl be born!”

Another EMT slapped gloves on Jamie and Steve pulled his hands to support his daughter’s head and back placing his own hands over the father’s. When Claire groaned through another contraction, the tiny body shot out into her father’s hands. In a single heartbeat, Jamie fell in love with the tiny creature before she was whisked away.

Jamie had tears streaming down his cheeks as he kissed Claire’s face and told her how brave she was.

“Ye did it love. Ye have a beautiful daughter. She is beautiful, but she has red hair. Sorry.”

Claire laughed out loud as Jamie picked her up and laid her on the gurney. Steve laid the bundled baby on her chest and she was loaded into the ambulance for the trip to Lexington. Steve was still connected by phone to her doctor. He read all monitors to her and smiled when she told him, “excellent job, the mother was in good hands.”

Jamie just watched his two girls and hardly heard a single sound except the baby grunting a bit and Claire cooing to her. Time and space fell away for him until the doors opened in Lexington and he jumped out. As the gurney was rolled away Claire shouted for him and her fright was replaced with a smile when he walked by her side.

“Always and forever Jamie?”

“Never to be parted, love.”

Steve ran up to Jamie and pumped his hand saying what a beautiful daughter he had. Jamie watched him run back to the ambulance kicking his heals three times. It was his first delivery, of a dear friend, no less. He was a very happy EMT today. Jamie ran to catch up with Claire.

The hospital was very pro father so Jamie was able to stay with Claire and baby while her doctor stitched up the tearing and verified her uterus was empty. Jamie liked the female doctor because she was direct and left nothing to the imagination.

“Well, you defied the odds that predicted a long labor and ample time to get to the hospital.” She looked at Claire, “are you alright after such a scare?”

Like music to Jamie’s ears, she stated she was perfectly fine with a new daughter and a devilishly handsome husband, making the doctor laugh.

Later, in the early evening, Claire was napping so Jamie sat next to his daughter and stared at the remarkable tiny human. His heart rate shot up when she stretched and grunted. Jamie so wanted to hold her, but the grunts became louder and her little chin started to quiver. Jamie was completely undone when the wailing started.

“Will you bring her to me, Jamie?”

He had read all about how to hold and transport a newborn. He slipped his hand under her head and lifted her into his arms. She went quiet suddenly and opened her eyes making Jamie’s heart nearly stop in his chest. The wailing resumed and baby was laid at Claire’s breast. When the baby latched onto a nipple Jamie watched with new tears stinging his eyes. He pulled out his phone and clicked pictures of mother and child.

Claire put a fresh diaper on her baby girl and looked closely at her, now sleeping peacefully with a belly full of milk.

“Nothing we have will work, Jamie.”

“Sassenach, I dinna ken they even make what er we lack.”

She felt her heart melt with the return of his contracted speech and never loved him so much.

“None of the names we have will work. Her name is Faith.”

Jamie looked at the baby, “Faith.”

Claire and Faith were asleep and Jamie smiled at the now-forgotten nipple inside her open mouth. He changed her and bundled her tightly before setting her in the bassinet on her side. It was three o’clock in the morning and he couldn’t wait for her to wake up again, wailing, so he could pick her up for a few magical seconds. He wanted to hold his wife so badly and looked at the cold Lazy Boy, moving toward it.

“Jamie, can you lay with me, please. I’m cold and I miss you.”

When he pulled her against his chest she sighed in his warmth and protection. He is such a good man she thought.

“I love you is woefully short of the emotion I feel Jamie. It is my life’s mission to find a way to express my love.”

“Ye already have lass, and she sleeps not three feet away.” He kissed her temple and cuddled her to his warmth.

The miracles came daily for the Fraser’s as they settled into parenthood. Molly and Lulu could not stay away, and it seemed one of them was always with Claire during the first three weeks. Jamie would rush home to find everything done, his wife and daughter sound asleep giving him peace of mind to return to work.

In October, when the leaves were in full color, Claire bundled Faith into her carriage for a walk around their favorite lake. Jamie was telling her about the race results of the yearlings when Claire squealed with delight and pointed at the baby. Jamie decided she was just as cute as always and continued his discussion stopping abruptly when Faith smiled at him. Jamie stopped in his tracks and looked closely at the dimples that punctuated her face. He had never seen them because they only appeared when she smiled. After that, he lived for Faith’s next smile.

Near the end of November, Claire received a package from Sports Illustrated. She ran for a knife and pulled out a large softcover book. It was a coffee table book, with hundreds of HD pictures of her and Runner. There was text running through the pictures that told the story of a miracle baby horse and the woman he chose to make him a champion. A separate page was dedicated to each of his races and Claire turned the pages reading every word. She was jolted by the close-ups of her winner’s tears laying tracks in her dirty cheeks, and looking up at Runner with her hands on his face. A close up of her face set in calm determination in the Belmont gate just minutes before she won the Triple Crown.

When Claire turned the page to the Kentucky Derby, Nosh had captured her salute to the governor and Claire felt the damn break behind her eyes and the tears gushed. She held a towel under her nose and read the tribute to the first woman to win that distinguished race.

Jamie stood frozen at the door watching Claire cry. He looked at the book on her lap and smiled at his darling baby.

“Are ye alright Sassenach?”

She looked up through watery eyes and shook her head yes. “May I leave you two for a bit? There is someone I need to see.”

“Of course love.”

Claire walked to the pasture gate searching for them and decided to walk the bluegrass until he smelled her. In under a minute she heard a whiny and saw him galloping toward her, tossing his head in a bouncy gate. Coming up the rear was a fat Porcelain, looking fit and pregnant. Claire threw her arms open wide and walked into his chest locking her hands around his neck.

Runner sniffed her all over and nickered to her showing mental images of her hugging him. There was static in the images and she really had to concentrate to see them. Runner was obviously happy to see her but quickly bolted away to chase Porcelain. Claire was thrilled to see Runner, but she no longer felt the deep connection with him.

Over the next week, the images that he used to communicate could no longer be seen. At first, she struggled not to lose them until she saw Runner, so happy in his new life, a champion forever.

When the first snow fell in January, Claire and Jamie were at the gate to bring Runner and Porcelain in for the night. She saw them through the heavy snowfall, heads tossing and kicking back legs into the air. It was horse nirvana. Claire took a deep breath and opened her soul, letting go of Runner, feeling him blow away from her while she watched him play. It was an intensely private moment, just she and Runner saying goodbye.

Claire later explained what happened in an email to Nosh, saying she no longer heard animals talk.

Nosh replied with his infinite wisdom.

‘My dearest Claire, the odds have not been so heavily stacked against a horse since Sea Biscuit and here he is, a champion for the ages. Your gift made it possible. You can focus on your loving family now but stay alert. I expect you will converse with animals again someday. When he needs you. Love Nosh’

Claire whispered, “thank you, my friend.” She felt closure from his words, infinitely better deep inside where she missed Runner. Her sadness was replaced with knowing she would ride him through the volumes of history yet to be written. They would never be forgotten.

As the days turned into months and then into years the breeding and foaling season came and went as they all waited for a superstar to be born from Midnight Runner. Lulu kept diligent records of the offspring and how they did racing. Porcelain was bred three times in four years, the first two colts were sold at Keenan. The third was a filly, such a light grey she looked pure white. She was a beauty and Jamie kept her to race, and then breed.

He was partial to the little filly because she was brave and funny and big. After she was weened he turned her out with Runner every chance he got and was blown away by her speed when they chased each other. She was registered Midnight Love.

Claire kissed her daughter’s cheeks a dozen times while Faith giggled and counted to twelve. Jason tapped his horn outside, and Claire handed her new son to his father with a kiss. He held her to him.

“Ye promised no more than three hours lassie, do ye remember?”

She looked into crystal blue eyes, “I’ll be back in two.”

Jason chatted on about his upcoming wedding glancing at the top folder and staring at the name of the facility.

“Why does that name sound so familiar?”

Claire looked at him like an afterthought, “hmm?”

When she jumped out of the truck, she noticed a distinct shift inside of her and wondered if she could be pregnant again so soon.

Later in the day, Jason walked the last yearling to the cross ties.

“My leg hurts.”

Claire looked up at who was talking and saw no one. “My leg hurts.” She was getting annoyed at someone playing tricks on her. She investigated the nearby stalls and around corners but found no one. When she turned around her mind filled with an image of her limping in pain with every step. She looked down at her boots taking deep breaths to steady her nerves. When she looked up at the one-year-old colt she felt him cry.

She put her hands on his cheeks, “my sweet boy, what has happened to you?”

She felt the stabbing pain in her own shoulder and pulled out her portable x-ray machine. Jason looked at his watch and suggested they get going so Jamie didn’t have his private parts in a vise.

“Are you referring to your balls Jason?”

Claire laughed at his deep blush. “Ah, yea.”

Claire handed the x-ray to the owner and explained the issue with his limping.

“He has a malformation of the shoulder causing pain when he moves that leg. If he’s to start boot camp this year we must fix it now. Let me know when to schedule the surgery.”

Claire joined Jason walking to the truck when she called to the owner, “who is the sire of that colt?”

“Midnight Runner!”

Claire felt her lungs evacuate and the blood race to her toes. She moved to the truck while a big shaggy dog jumped into the air in front of her.

“Hi! Hi! You want to play? Hi! Here, throw the ball! Watch how high I jump! Throw it! Now is good, throw the ball, throw the ball!”

Jason came around and held her arm into the truck. He was worried about her ghostly pallor. “You alright Claire? What happened back there?”

“Runner’s son just asked me to help him.”

Jason’s head whipped around to stare at her. Suddenly a smile broke across her face and seemed to light up the inside of the truck.

“That colt is our new project Jason and things are gonna get dicey in a couple of months. He won’t want to run because each time in the past the pain has been terrible. Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

Jason’s mouth had dropped open and his head shook slowly side to side.

She continued. “You know Michael is miserable in his faculty position, maybe I should introduce him to the owner. A season on the track might be just what he needs.”

“Claire, Midnight Love starts boot camp this summer, isn’t the colt a conflict of interest?”

“Certainly not. I love them both and will help each of them on the road to the Derby.” Claire got quiet and looked out the window. “If by some miracle they both have a gate position next May, I hope Midnight Love wins. The first filly in history to win the Kentucky Derby.”

Claire looked up at the twin spires of Church Hill Downs and was flooded with memories of racing Runner on this track. She and Jamie were VIP’s with the best table where Claire signed eight by ten glossy photos of she and Runner crossing the finish line of the Kentucky Derby five years ago. They were treated to the best food and whisky all day and a great time was had by both of them. The party atmosphere swept them away.

The loudspeaker announced the parade of competitors was about to begin and Claire stretched her neck to see the track below. Jamie pulled her out of her seat and headed for the exit door. This was too important to be cooped up here in this finery.

They watched the horses being ponied and Claire searched madly for Midnight Love, exhaling a breath when she was found, bringing up the rear, just like her father. They found a place to watch on the rail and Claire thought she might stroke out waiting for the horses to load into the gate. The seconds turned to hours. When the gate slammed open twenty-one horses made a mad dash for the track. Midnight Love was unimpressed with the males crashing into one another but as soon as they were away, she cantered out like it was a ride in the park. She was dead last causing Jamie to jump up and down yelling for her to run!

Michael pushed in between Claire and Jamie with a big smile looking from one to the other and laughing at Jamie having some kind of fit because his horse was in last place.

“What kind of crack-pot trainer are ye Michael, look at her, I expect her to wander into the infield and start pickin daisies for Christ sake.”

“This is your chance of a lifetime sweetheart, it’s time to win,” Claire said to no one in particular. But her eyes were closed so she could mentally tell the filly it was time to fly.

As if a firecracker went off in her butt, Midnight Love burst into a gallop and shot forward like a white bullet and the crowd went wild. She ran up on the outside and overtook the pack with ease setting her sight on the lead horse, her brother. When Love decided it was time to win the race there was little that could stop her. Claire held her breath watching Love extend into each stride with the jockey barely able to hang on. As the two horses barreled down the home stretch Love inched forward just before they crossed the finish line. It was a photo finish and the announcer’s incredulous voice finally told the world Midnight Love was the winner of the one hundred forty-ninth Kentucky Derby, the first filly ever to win the race!

“That’s my girl,” Claire said out loud. She opened her eyes to Jamie and Michael doing a chest bump in pure male glee.

When Jamie looked at his wife, he hugged her tightly. Another Derby win for Highland Brothers Farm. The future could not be brighter.

The End

69 notes · View notes