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greatooglymooglyyy · 8 days

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The Last Ride Chapter 8 (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: verbal arguments, physical altercation, kissing, lots of emotions and insecurity, 3.9k words

a/n: sigh. i'm warning you... be nice to me or chapter nine gets it!! 🔪

series masterlist

“Whoa, girl.” I say gently as I tighten my thighs around Cinnamon’s body and tug gently on her reins. She comes to a stop with no issue and I rub her neck affectionately.

One of the trainers jogs up to her side and puts a cautious hand on her body to which she tenses up but doesn’t react negatively. We’ve been working on getting her more comfortable with other handlers and my girl has been making so much progress. But, it’s a slow process and I know she still gets nervous with faces she doesn’t trust.

I slide out of her saddle so the boy can take my place and step out of her line of vision. Almost immediately, Cinnamon starts to panic and my heart aches. I know I’m supposed to let them build the bond on their own but I can’t stop myself from comforting her.

“This is my friend Max, Cinnamon.” I coo as I step back in front of her and nuzzle her nose. “He’s just going to take a ride, okay?”

From across the field, I catch Chris throwing me a disapproving glare but he doesn’t say a word. Unsurprising since he hasn’t uttered more than a few my way for the last two weeks. But annoying nevertheless.

Ignoring him, I walk along beside them until I’m sure she doesn’t need me anymore and then step aside and watch them ride.

It feels nice to see her progress in action and my lips pull up in a small smile at the thought of her beating her monster allegations. If Cinnamon can fix her reputation, there’s hope for me yet. A tap on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts and I look back to see one of the younger stableboys.

“Chris said to tell you to help Mr. Buck shear the sheep.” He chirps, nervously biting his nails while he talks as if he expects me to bite his head off.

Irritation does rise in my chest, but not at the poor stable boy. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

The boy gives me a relieved smile but it morphs into a look of panic when he sees me marching toward Chris instead of the truck. I ignore his calls behind me, locking my focus on the pigheaded brunette in my scope.

“So we’ve moved past you mumbling orders at me and now you’re just sending messenger boys instead?”

He looks up slowly from where he’s crouched down fixing the enclosure fence and tosses me an uninterested glance. “Do you need somethin’ or you just bored again?”

I roll my eyes at the jab and continue on, determined to get my rant out. “How long are you going to ignore me, Chris? This is getting beyond childish.”

Standing with a sigh and taking a look around, he gestures at all the workers watching us. “Nothing round here’s childish except this scene you’re putting on. Come on.”

He leads the way to the stables, moving so quickly I basically have to run to keep up. As soon as we’re inside, he slams the door shut and glares at me. I glare back, refusing to back down and give him a ‘go ahead’ gesture.

“I’m not ignoring you.” He says calmly, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. “I have nothing to say to you.”

My eyebrows knit together as I step back and study his face, wondering if he’s bluffing or not. “Really? Because you had a lot of words for me at the fair. Now it’s radio silence and you didn’t even let me explain-”

“I don’t need you to explain. You don’t owe me a thing. And neither do I. There is nothin’ else to say because there’s nothin’ between us anymore.”

“So that’s it? After all that? We just go back to being strangers?” The disbelief in my voice is heavy but I feel a wall between us forming higher and higher.

There's a split second of hesitation but Chris shrugs, averting his eyes. “I dunno, Scotch. Maybe we always were.”

Wow. I nod quickly and turn away from him to compose myself, trying not to allow any hurt to show on my face. Behind me, I hear him exit quietly and it settles in that maybe he’s right. It’s not like I belong here anyway. This was always a temporary game. I just can’t believe it felt so real.

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

Like most Saturdays here, I wake up to the early morning sun beaming through my window and the smell of breakfast cooking. It’s crazy how different waking up here feels compared to when I first got here.

I used to spend my days here counting down until I could leave this humid ass state and hardly ever think about it again. But now? Lying here and listening to the calm quiet sounds of the country with my aunt’s quiet singing as the only disturbance? Somehow the idea of leaving makes me feel sick.

But it doesn’t matter. I try to remind myself that this life isn’t mine- no matter how safe it feels. And as for my Birdie, it’s not like I can never visit again. Right?

I shake it off and get up to get ready, taking a quick shower before heading into the kitchen. As soon as she sees me, my aunt grows a huge suspicious smile on her face and I raise my eyebrow. “Good morning?”

“Good morning, bunny! How’d you sleep? I made your favorite. Take a seat. Honestly, honey, I’ve been up since before the roosters in this kitchen-” She rambles on and on as I slide into my seat, continuing to stare at her with a bewildered expression.

I look around for my uncle, finally noticing he’s nowhere to be seen. But before I can ask, Birdie sits across from me and takes my hand. “Your uncle has a surprise for you, darlin’. A damn good one.”

As if on cue, I hear my uncle’s truck pull into the driveway, always recognizable by the loud rumbling and occasional backfiring. My aunt squeals in excitement and scrambles over to the door so I follow behind her, laughing lightly.

“This better not be another Duck Dynasty merch find. I told you I’ve never even seen that show-” I cut myself off as the door swings open and I lock eyes with my dad.

It feels for a second like time freezes as I take him in. His weary smile. The bags under his eyes from what must have been months of little sleep. His outfit being as casual as I’ve ever seen him; not a tie or a designer in sight.

“Hi, honey.” He says softly, his voice taking on the soothing tone of my childhood. The one he’d use when I was sick or hurt. When I needed him. And just like that it’s like a dam breaking as my anger crumbles and I throw myself into his arms.

“Dad.” is the only thing I manage to say into his chest as he rocks us back and forth, holding the back of my head like he did when I was young. But he seems to understand anyway, pulling back and smiling at me.

“I missed you too, kiddo.”

My uncle, the big softie, sniffles and we both cut our eyes to him. “ See now, that right there is just plumb beautiful.” He wails, leaning into Birdie who rolls her eyes in good humor. I laugh at his dramatics until someone clearing their throat grabs my attention and I look out to the porch.

“Can we get a little love next?”

Jace stands with a smug look on his face and his arms wide, my other two ‘best friends’ Brielle and Lydia standing awkwardly behind him. My eyes widen as I look between my dad and the boy I thought was the love of my life. What. The. Fuck.

“Surprise!” My dad says with genuine enthusiasm. “You’ve been doing so well, I thought you deserved to see your crew. How excited are you?”

I swallow hard, tearing my eyes away from Jace before I pass out. “Yeah, Dad. Ecstatic.”

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

The thing about Jace is he’s never known how to sit in silence. He’s spent our entire lives being the one who fills it while I hang on to every single word. It used to be one of my favorite things about him. But now as we walk quietly past the lake, his body fidgeting with discomfort at the silence, I’m not so sure.

Sighing, I take pity on him and finally speak. “So...you said you wanted to talk?”

“I do.” The relief in his voice is palpable and he stops me from walking with a hand on my arm before he continues. “Since you’ve been gone, I’ve done so much thinking about that night. And I’ve realized I really fucked up. Worse than that time I stole my dad’s Porsche. And you remember how bad that was.” He laughs but I don��t join, staring at him and waiting for the point.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, I should have never done drugs that night. And I shouldn’t have let the girls leave you. That was wrong. And it won’t happen again.”

My eyes narrow at his roundabout accountability but I let it go, knowing it's as close to an apology as I will ever get. “You’ve said that before.”

“But I mean it now. I flushed all my blow after that night. It was really messing with my sinuses anyway.” He sees the look on my face and quickly adds, “But obviously, it was mostly for you.”

I sigh and shake my head. “It’s fine, Jace. I’m not holding grudges anymore. We’re cool.”

And I’m surprised at how much I mean it. After all the work I’ve done this summer, holding on to all this anger has been the most exhausting part of it.

Jace brings a hand up to my face and it takes a conscious effort not to flinch away from him. “I don’t want us to just be cool. I want you to know how much I care about you.”

I give him a stern look and pull away. “We can’t start this again. I don’t want to be anyone’s secret.”

“Who said anything about a secret? I’m done with that. I mean, it’s not like everyone didn’t know we were fucking anyway.”

“Jace.”

“Sorry. I just mean, we might as well make it official. Everyone knows it was always going to be me and you.”

I try to keep my heart still at his words, but despite everything he’s done, there’s still a weak spot. When I study his face, I see our entire history. All the years I spent longing for him to touch me, all the nights I spent trying to figure him out once he did. My past and his are so interlocked, I can’t untangle them. The problem is I don’t know if I want our futures to be as well.

Plus, there’s Chris to think about...or is there? His words from the stable play in my head on repeat. According to him, there is no us for me to think about. If that’s really how he feels about me, then it’s time I try to get over it.

Realizing how long I’ve been zoned out of the conversation, I refocus on Jace, bringing a hand up to his perfectly tousled hair. “Okay. Let’s try.”

He grins before pressing his lips to mine and I lean into it, wrapping my arms around his neck. It’s a familiar feeling, this boy pressed close against me. Once I’d even have described it as home. But as he deepens the kiss so close to where a boy once taught me to fish, the only thing echoing in my head is “Well. at least this one wants me.”

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

“Bunny, would you stop fussin’? It looks fine.” My aunt Birdie explains. She’s been watching me string lights up for the past fifteen minutes and no matter what, according to her it looks ‘fine’.

Apparently, everyone had been waiting eagerly for my dad’s return because it seems like the entire town is here tonight for his ‘welcome home’ party. People are piling in left and right, quicker than we can even finish with the prep.

One thing about me is, if I’m going to throw a party it’s going to be one people don’t stop talking about. And that begins with something as simple as the setup. I wish I had known about it sooner.

“I just think we need a few more over there,” I reply, motioning over to a fence that’s left completely blank.

She thinks for a moment, knowing it’s useless to argue with me. “There might be a few more lights in the shed, should be with all the Christmas stuff.”

I smile, immediately turning to head over to the shed that resides on the side of the house. The walk is short, but by the time I make it there, I'm met with a familiar figure on the other side.

His gaze sends chills down my spine, for whatever reason I haven't gotten used to the mean stares. Maybe it’s because I know what his softness looks like, and now it’s gone.

I go to open the wooden shed door before looking at Chris once more. “What’s your problem, Chris?”

He chuckles under his breath as if my reaction was completely unwarranted. If this was the first time he sent his nasty looks at me, maybe it would be unwarranted, but now I’m sick of his shit.

“Just wondering what’s got you all happy.” He replies, leaning against the side fence with his hands crossed with one another.

No matter what, he always seems to believe he has the upper ground. His body language makes that more than apparent.

“I can’t just like parties?” I reply, more sheepishly than I meant to lead on. It’s stupid that I'm still defending myself against him, especially when I know a few weeks ago he liked me for all of me, now it’s as if I'm entertainment for him.

“So Prince Charming didn’t put that smile on your face? I heard he graced our poor humble digs.” He remarks with a tone dipping of sarcasm, simply earning a glare from me as I head into the shed.

When I step back out, he’s gone and it feels like the party has doubled. Looking around the yard at the crowds of people gathered, I can’t believe my aunt and uncle managed to keep this all a secret.

After finishing my final touches, I spot my dad and decide to stand with him and welcome guests for a bit, relishing how good it feels to spend time with him again.

He can’t walk more than a couple of feet without being stopped by a classmate or an old teacher so I fall back and let him enjoy catching up. It feels good to see him so relaxed here, blending in like he never left. I almost swear I catch his accent creeping back in before I walk away.

I’m surprised with how many people I recognize as well, waving to Abby and a few of Chris’ friends. Hank hugs me before spotting my dad and hustling over to him. I should have guessed they were friends.

Looking around for my city friends, I spot Brielle laughing in a corner with Jason and my eyebrows shoot up to the sky. Okay so new type for her then. I make a mental note to pry later. Continuing my search, I spot Lydia and Jace looking pretty bored and honestly a little scared so I make my way over.

But on my way, I hear my name being called from a high-pitched familiar voice and spin around. Evie runs as quick as her little feet can take her and wraps a hug around my legs. Laughing, I squat down and give her a proper hug, pushing her wild bangs out of her face. “Hi, sweetie.”

“I haven’t seen you in this long!” She says with adorably wide eyes, stretching her arms out in a big gesture and making my heart sink.

“I know. We’ve been busy, huh? I heard you learned to write your whole name.” I say, recalling the brag Chris shared over one of the last lunches we spent together.

She grins and nods excitedly. “I can! Do you have paper?”

A hand lands on her shoulder and we both look up to see Chris hovering above us. “I think she’s good, Evie.” He gives me a brief smile but his eyes are still cold and emotionless so I stand wordlessly.

“But-” She starts to complain but catches sight of Birdie at the chocolate fountain and her jaw drops. Before either of us can say another word, she takes off again in my aunt’s direction.

Chris kisses his teeth but we both can’t help but laugh. “Thank god these are good people, or I’d have to put her ass on a leash.” He says but he’s watching her hug Birdie with his usual loving gaze.

He notices me staring and raises an eyebrow, shooting me his cautious smile. “What’re you gawking at?”

“Honestly?” I ask, looking over his outfit with exaggerated horror. “Those damn jeans of yours. Put them out of their misery, I’m begging you.”

He chuckles, his eyes twinkling with humor. “Oh, so we’re back to the clothing roasts, huh?”

“See, I personally never left. It haunts me.”

“Yeah, okay, Ms. Socks and Sandals.” He says looking down at my feet pointedly.

I laugh and push his shoulder. “Shut up. My boots didn’t go with this fit. I’m limited here.”

“We’ll have to get you some more.” He says almost on a reflex before he seems to realize and flinches. But his reply is cut off when Jace swings an arm around my neck.

Immediately, it’s like a cloud comes over Chris’ face, hurt warping his features before he puts up a mask. At the same time, I freeze but do my best to recover. “Oh..uh..Hey Jace.”

He smiles at me and leans in, pressing a long kiss to my lips to my absolute horror, before turning to Chris and extending his hand. “What’s up, man? You must be the caterer. The food was great.”

Oh god. Chris’ eyes narrow but he slowly shakes Jace’s hand anyway without a word so I step in. “Actually, he works with my uncle. He’s been sort of a mentor this summer.”

Chris laughs humorlessly but if Jace catches on he doesn’t acknowledge it. “Oh, great. The food actually really sucks. Greasy as hell.” He laughs, sounding even more arrogant than normal.

I lock eyes with Chris, both of us knowing full well that Birdie spent the entire day cooking. He nods, gesturing coolly between the two of us. “I gotta say. You two? Perfect for each other.”

He turns and walks away as Jace throws an unsuspecting “thank you” at his back. But I stay frozen against my boyfriend’s side knowing it was anything but a compliment.

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

A couple of hours later, the party is still in full swing. People are doing line dances, tripping over their own feet due to the well-stocked bar. Someone has started a fire in the pit and the kids are enjoying their s’more while their parents catch up.

I lean against my chair, taking in the community, as Lydia whines to the left of me about being cold. Jace takes off his coat and throws it over her and I frown for a second before my dad catches my eye by the snack table.

“Do you guys want anything?” I ask as I stand, needing more than anything to speak to someone who might get how I’m feeling. They shake their heads so I mumble that I’ll be right back.

When I get to my dad’s side, he smiles warmly before grabbing a couple of my favorite pinrolls and handing them to me. Maybe he knows me better than I think. I return the smile and take the plate, whispering my thanks.

As he’s about to walk away, I stop him and he looks back in confusion. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He says, crossing his arms and leaning in to hear me better.

“How did you get this place out of your system when you left? How’d you move on?” As I ask, I glance around the ranch before looking up at the sky, mesmerized by the glow of the stars I’d never be able to see in the city.

His eyes soften as understanding floods his features. “What makes you think I was ever able to do that?”

I blink slowly at him, not understanding. “The city. You made a whole life there. We never come here to visit.”

“Because it’s hard.” He explains, looking past me to where his old friends laugh and talk amongst themselves. “You can’t hide here. Not when they know everything about you. But, this place is in my blood, in my heart. That’s the real reason I wanted you to come here. I was hoping it would somehow creep into yours.”

The smile that crosses his face is sad but I return it with a nod before turning and making my way back to my table. But to my surprise, Jace isn’t there. Lydia has fallen asleep with his jacket draped over her so I don’t bother waking her.

Wandering around to find him, I move closer to the house until I hear his voice coming from the side of it. Plastering a smile on my face, I walk toward it until his words make me halt.

“-I know she must have been useless with all that bullshit.”

My face scrunches up but I stay hidden when I realize the person he’s talking to must be Chris, recognizing his heavy sigh before his reply.

“I wouldn’t call her useless in no kinda way. But sure, man.”

I peer around the corner and get a glimpse of Chris’ face, his telltale flush of irritation fixed to his features. I debate coming around the corner since I don’t want to be caught snooping but something tells me to stay put.

“Either way. Thanks for looking out for my girl.”

I don’t miss the emphasis Jace puts on the 'my' and roll my eyes at the sudden possessiveness. Especially when a few months ago, I couldn’t even touch him in public.

“Uh-huh. Just...” Chris seems to hesitate, bringing a hand to the back of his neck and sighing. “Just deserve her, alright?”

My heart thuds against my chest but I don’t have long to process before Jace laughs riotously like that’s the best joke he’s ever heard. He places a hand on Chris’ shoulder and leans in.

“Come on, man. Have you met her? I’ve been on planes with less baggage than that bitch. It’s not like I’m going to marry her.” Jace is still laughing as he says it, his tone so matter-of-fact that I almost don’t realize what he just said.

That is until I see the expression on Chris’ face, the blankest I’ve ever seen him look. “Fuck.” He mutters as if being extremely inconvenienced before he takes a step back and throws a punch so quick I can’t even tell where it lands.

The party goes silent in an instant, the only noise coming from Jace’s body crumbling to the ground.

Oh. Shit.

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Note

If you are doing them the soulmate fic starter 3 or 9 for rexwalker? I love all your star wars stuff so much

soulmate au prompts

3. the one where you and your soulmate have matching marks on your bodies. 9. the one where your soulmate’s last words to you are written on your body.

Featuring marginally-less-terrible Jango with more excuses than usual.

------

The Kaminoans hate soul marks.

Rex knows this from the day he knows to ask. The Nulls and Alphas don’t have any soul marks, just scars where there was once a promise. The eldest clones have records, at least, where the scientists had taken photos before beginning th surgeries, but the marks themselves are long gone.

Prime had found out about the removals and thrown a fit, raging so intensely that Nala Se had ended up intubated from the damage he’d dealt, and she hadn’t been the only one. Rex isn’t old enough to remember that, but Cody is, and he whispers the story in the dead of night more than once. Nobody likes Prime very much, except Boba, but that’s one of the few instances they can point to and say ‘he cares more than he likes to admit.’

It’s anathema on Mandalore, one brother claims, a light in his eyes that Rex hasn’t ever seen before. That’s what I heard him telling one of the aruetti trainers.

So is refusing your children so much as a name, another grouses, and the conversation dies an ugly little death. So is letting your children die just because you don’t think they’re good enough. So is turning your back from even letting them be part of your house, let alone part of your clan. Sounds like he cares more about our soul marks than he does for our lives.

Rex doesn’t know how to address that. He does get a personal visit from Prime, one day, gets asked to show his little marking to the man that is, in some ways, his father.

“Another one,” Jango Fett mutters to the trainer that came with him, the woman holding a datapad and ready to record whatever it is that they’re looking for. He passes a thumb over the marking, frowning. “A lightsaber, lit white, with pale blue halo, between a set of symbolic Jaig eyes. The eyes are dark blue, slightly desaturated. I think they’re meant to frame it like an exaggerated beskad crossguard.”

“Sir?” Rex asks.

“That makes six,” Jango says, still so quiet, and then shakes his head. “Thank you for showing me, 7567.”

“Rex,” he corrects, before he can second-guess himself. “I’m Rex.”

“Thank you, Rex.”

------

The rumors say that anyone with a lightsaber soul mark is going to have a jedi for a soulmate.

Rex isn’t sure how true that is, but he’s eager to find out.

Prime gets more erratic, more unpleasant at times and almost awkwardly nice at others. Rex meets the others who got Jedi soul marks. He’s the youngest, so far.

Jango tells them all to hide the markings, and to keep them secret. They’d already all known that much, that only batchmates should be told about soul marks. All the adults that should know already do, after all.

“Where’s your dad going?” Rex asks once, when Boba’s been handed over to Cody’s squad for looking after while Prime goes haring off on some trip that nobody gets to know about. Rex hangs out with Cody’s squad more than his own batch, it feels like, but that’s a whole thing that he’s not supposed to talk about since the late transfer to command track.

“Dunno,” Boba says, kicking his feet back and forth. “My soul mark came in. Something about it made him really angry, I think.”

Rex doesn’t ask to see it.

It’s not his place.

------

The Alpha batch is getting quieter, angrier, and end up in hushed conversations with Prime and some of the trainers so often that the rumors start up harder than before. Rex keeps his head down, because the Kaminoans get antsier when Jango does. Soul marks come up more often, and Rex gets called in to talk to the Alpha clones about his mark. He’s not supposed to, but Prime says it’s important, and Prime is in charge.

“Oh, is that all it took?” one of the Alphas sneers, and Prime shoots them a look that has Rex taking a few hasty steps back. The Alpha clone isn’t even fully grown yet, by natborn standards, but they don’t back down. “What, ready to stop being a dar’buir--”

“That’s enough,” Prime says, low and hard, and the Alpha clone rolls their eyes. “There’s a child here.”

“So now you care about that?”

Rex is escorted back to his rooms.

------

Decommissioning finally stops, for all that it requires Jango almost decapitating a Kaminoan, and someone Rex hopes he never sees again shows up.

(His memory is blurred. He’s sure the man was human, and tall. Elderly enough to have white hair, probably? A... there was fabric that swished when he turned, something dramatic, but...)

(He is not the only one that cannot remember.)

It takes years for anything else to come of it all... at least where the clones can see.

------

Rex is fully grown, as far as clones go. His aging is supposed to slow down to ‘natborn normal’ now, because he’s reached his full height and most of his brainpower, and he’s officially old enough to fight on the field if the war starts tomorrow.

It might.

“Hey, look up.”

Rex listens, and looks, and sees a natborn with Nala Se, pale skinned and with reddish hair, soaked to the bone. They wear robes, brown and heavy-looking. Even as he watches, another natborn jogs up from behind, also sodden and pale, but with darker hair that sticks up despite the water. A third joins them, a tad slower and more controlled; this one wears all white, and they--maybe she?-- are slight and small and poised in a way that Rex thinks might be how a natborn leader carries themselves, if they aren’t a soldier.

They pass on through the walkway, showing emotions that the Kaminoans can’t read and the clones absolutely can. None of it is... good.

“Shit,” someone mutters. “That was a Jedi.”

“Venn--”

“What if they don’t want us?”

------

Rex is called to Prime’s rooms.

He tries not to look at the wide eyes of the brothers he’s been gossiping with, just stands and pulls on his full kit. He hesitates at his bucket, but then pops it on and marches to what might be his doom. It’s probably not.

He hopes it’s not.

He knocks, and is let in by Boba, and sits down on the couch when Prime tells him to. He removes his helmet when asked. Boba hops up onto the couch between Rex and his father, and leans in against Rex’s side.

There’s a list on the table, one he recognizes, quickly writing out all the paired elements on the Jedi-Clone soul marks. Nobody who isn’t already involved in the project would know it. He spots the ‘yellow tickets’ that Bly got tattooed on his face recently, the ones he won’t claim are or aren’t related to his mark. He spots his own listing of Jaig eyes.

“Prime?”

His... progenitor, maybe, in this situation, looks at him, and holds up a hand. “You saw the list. You can guess why Rex is here.”

Oh. Prime’s using his name without prompting. That’s nice.

“I can’t read it,” the younger Jedi says, with something that might be a pout. Rex wants to roll his eyes, but his helmet is on the table. People would see.

“It’s in Mando’a,” the elder tells him, voice low, and then glances between Rex and the younger Jedi. “Fett, how did you know which one to call? I can guess some things, but--”

“I have a good eye. The hilts are all different. Only one matches.”

“I see.”

Rex fidgets, and tries not to wonder at... at... oh. The younger Jedi’s lightsaber hilt does match Rex’s soul mark.

Boba notices when Rex starts picking at his glove, pressing a finger right to the mark on his wrist, and frowns up at him. He grabs Rex’s hand to still it, and tries to ask a question with his eyebrows. He is mostly unsuccessful.

“Anakin,” the elder Jedi says. Rex still doesn’t know his name. “Your hand, please?”

“Why?”

“...you’ll understand in a minute,” the Jedi says, long-suffering in the way of the trainers who dealt with the youngest cadets. “Your hand. No, the other one.”

“Why do you need my hand?”

“Reasons, Anakin. You there, ah... Rex, was it?”

“Yessir.”

The Jedi flinches. “Right. I suppose I’ll have to get used to that... right, Rex, can you come here? I imagine you know what it is that I’m looking to compare.”

Rex has been taught to listen to Jedi, but he has no idea who he’s supposed to listen to here. The older Jedi is probably in charge, but Rex hasn’t been assigned to anyone yet, so isn’t Prime still technically the closest thing he has to a CO?

He glances at Prime, who just gestures for Rex to go ahead with it.

Rex pulls off a glove, pulls back his sleeve, and bares the symbol on his wrist for inspection.

The younger Jedi’s face morphs from confused irritation to surprise, and then... something Rex doesn’t want to analyze too closely. He’s not sure if it’s wonder or horror. He wasn’t aware the expressions could look so similar.

The Jedi--Anakin--pulls back his own sleeve, moves his wrist to Rex’s and watches as the marks glow faintly from the proximity.

“Looks like Fett was right,” the elder Jedi mutters. He doesn’t sound happy. He looks at the other natborn, the one Rex is pretty sure is a woman, and raises an eyebrow.

She shakes her head, eyes closed.

“You said there were others?” the elder Jedi prompts, and Prime nods. “We are no more open about our marks than most, but I can spot one, maybe two, that I can guess at. I’d need to see the actual markings to confirm, of course, and I imagine that wouldn’t be something anyone would be happy with.”

“The rest can happen naturally,” Prime dismisses. “This was just proof.”

“Not just proof, I hope,” the Jedi mutters. “I’m.. I have to call the Council.”

Rex sees the panic in Anakin’s face, and is seized by the urge to do something, anything, to fix it.

“Obi-Wan, you can’t let them--”

“Nobody’s going to separate you,” the elder Jedi says. Obi-Wan, apparently. “And there’s no ‘let,’ Anakin, they outrank me. Significantly. Right now, I’m concerned about the implications of this war, of multiple of these cloned soldiers that have been indoctrinated to fight for and serve the Jedi having soulmates among us, especially given that I have no idea how recently our wartime protocols on such things were updated. There is an entire army that is supposedly in our name, ordered by a man ten years dead.”

“Count Dooku is involved,” Prime says, dark and satisfied and petty. “Calling himself Darth Tyrannus. The Kaminoans mostly believe he is an isolated and reclusive Jedi Master that serves as their contact when Sifo-Dyas is unavailable.”

The Jedi named Obi-Wan closes his eyes and breathes deeply, and then stands. “Right. That’s... well, alright, I absolutely have to call the Council now.”

Prime smiles, pulling Boba into his side. Rex finds himself tugged down to sit where Obi-Wan had been a few moments earlier.

“Why are you telling us all this?” the natborn woman says. “This Count sounds like he hired you, did he not?”

“The project predated his involvement, but yes, he’s my supervisor, so to speak.” Prime smiles that same dark smile, runs a hand over Boba’s head and pointedly doesn’t look at Obi-Wan. That smile is... unpleasant. Rex doesn’t want to look at it, and so he looks down to the faint glow at his wrist instead. “Did you know, they told me the clones would be sub-sentient and halfway to droids? Not really people? That my DNA was for the bodies, but the minds would be little more than lines of code? Do you know how much they hated that I saw the evidence of their lies written into my children’s skin?”

Rex jolts, head whipping about and hand pulling away from his soulmate, staring at Prime, his mouth agape in a way a soldier’s shouldn’t but--but he’s--

Rex has never, ever heard the Prime refer to any of them except Boba as his child. His copies, his echoes, his clones, but not his children.

A hand curls into his, and he looks down to find Anakin’s lacing their fingers together. He looks up into a hopeful, unsure smile.

Anakin tilts his head and leans in, lips to Rex’s ear, and says, “When I told Obi-Wan he was like a father to me, he didn’t even know how to respond. Just made a bad joke about it and then pretended it didn’t happen. Is this the same?”

“...close enough,” Rex breathes out, because now isn’t the time to explain just how different a clone’s existence is from what they’ve seen in the holos meant to prepare them for interacting with civilians. That ‘family’ here has always been brothers, your squad and any brother that chooses to take you on, or a brother you choose to nurture, that the Alphas raise them more than Prime or the trainers do, that the older squads are who they turn to because the adults won’t help, that they don’t have parents, and they are discouraged from thinking of children in their futures.

(Protecting intellectual property, one of the scientists had mused. They’d made it very, very difficult for any of the clones to impregnate a partner. Not impossible, because to make it impossible was itself impossible, but... nearly so.)

“There’s millions of us,” Rex says instead. “He doesn’t... he doesn’t usually acknowledge most of us as his.”

Anakin’s face twists, already angry, and the glare he aims at Prime is ghastly. Rex might already be a little in love, just for that. The way Anakin’s fingers squeeze around his is nice, too.

Prime does not notice.

“Can I see the contract you say you signed?” the natborn woman says, and Prime eyes her. He nods, at length, weighing her worth and finding she measures up to whatever it is that he’s decided is necessary.

“Boba, go pack like we’re going on a hunt,” Prime says, pulling out a personal datapad and only dropping his gaze to find the right file. “We’ll probably be leaving tonight.”

“Okay, buir,” Boba says, sliding off the couch. “Am I telling the Alphas the thing you said?”

“No, I’ll handle that myself. You just pack.” He stands, nods to the natborn woman, and moves around the table. “Senator, I’ll sit with you, if you don’t mind. I imagine you and Knight Kenobi are the best suited to get this problem fixed.”

“And me?” Anakin demands.

“You,” Prime says, with a just a hint of condescending drawl. “have just met your soulmate. I assumed you’d want some privacy to get to know each other.”

Anakin flushes, a little angry and a lot embarrassed. It’s frighteningly cute. “I--I mean--I don’t--”

“The clones are mentally the ages they look, but do remember they’ve had practically no time to gain any sort of experience,” Prime says, already ignoring them in favor of pointing something out on the datapad to the senator. “Take advantage of any of my kids, and I’ll be the one hunting you down. I’m told I’m rather good at it.”

Anakin’s face does some acrobatics. Rex would pay more attention, but he can feel himself turning just as red.

“Rex, you know where the private meeting room is,” Prime says, and waves a hand in the direction of the tiny, tiny office that’s by the door. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Be nice,” the Senator hisses, smacking Prime’s arm.

“He’s ten.”

“...still.”

Rex just stands and pulls Anakin away to the little room before things can get worse.

They’re delayed when Obi-Wan asks what they’re doing from the kitchen he’s been using to get a spot of privacy, but then Anakin says “we’re just going to talk, Master,” and they get an aggrieved sigh and a response of “the clothes stay on, padawan, and you’ll need to finish up whatever conversation you have soon, there’s work to do and being a padawan only excuses you from so much.”

Rex backs into the meeting room, yanks Anakin in, and then decides to throw caution to the wind and just press their lips together.

Oh.

Okay.

He’s kissing back.

Lack of caution: good.

The mark at his wrist thrums, warm and comfortable, and Rex pulls away. He stifles the noise he wants to make, and when Anakin whines, small and soft but clearly disappointed, Rex offers him a small grin he knows would get him called ‘shy’ by his asshole older brothers.

“We probably should actually get to know each other,” Rex says. “I don’t even know your last name.”

“I... yeah, I don’t know yours either, unless it’s Fett.”

“It’s not. I don’t have one.”

Anakin’s face does another one of those ‘I’m angry for you’ twists that Rex is quickly coming to recognize, and then he sighs and falls into one of the chairs. “Okay. So. I don’t know much about the soldier life. Tell me about it.”

And he does.

#Rexwalker #Anakin Skywalker #Captain Rex #Jango Fett #Obi Wan Kenobi #Padme Amidala #Soulmate AU #Phoenix Posts #Phoenix Answers Memes #star wars

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pastrnaks-sainz · 3 years

Text

Pasta’s Secret Wife

Pairing: David Pastrnak x reader

Type: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: You and David met in his rookie year when you traveled to Boston with the Capitals for a game. You never lost contact, and dated long distance until three years later David proposed. You were married in secret, no friends or family present. Nobody besides close family knew, not even your respective teams.

Request: Can you do one where the reader is an athletic trainer for the caps but is secretly married to Pasta and the team finds out at a bruins v caps game? (from anon)

A/N: okay I actually love this so much, nonny thank you ily

~~~~

Bergy had noticed the ring Pasta wore on his right ring finger; he just never said anything about it. He thought it might have had something to do with his father and never asked. He thought that for months until round one, game five.

“Do you know where Pasta is?” Bergy asked, adjusting his mask as he stepped up beside Marchy. “I haven’t seen him for a couple hours.”

“Last I saw him he was eating in the hotel café,” Marchy responded. “Why? What time is it?”

“Five minutes until we need to get on the bus,” Bergy answered, holding out his wrist so Marchy could see his watch.

“Oh,” Marchy said. “Oh that isn’t good.”

“No,” Patrice hummed, scanning the lobby for his missing line mate. “No it’s not.”

“Hey guys,” Pasta’s voice came from behind them, making them both turn around. “Sorry I’m late, I got caught up talking to someone.”

“You’re here now, it’s fine,” Bergy said with a smile and a shrug before shooting Brad a warning glare. Brad held up his hands in mock surrender and motioned for Patrice to follow Pasta out of the hotel.

The incident stayed in the back of Patrice’s mind up until he was putting his jersey on. It was unusual for Pasta to be late to leave. He made a mental note to talk to him about it after the game, but right now he needed to focus on winning and getting into round two.

Your mind was running wild. You had met with David at the hotel before the game like you did before every game the Bruins and Capitals played. Your meetings were typically brief, and you tried your best to blend in and not draw any attention to who you were with or, more importantly, who you were kissing.

“Y/N,” TJ snapped his fingers in front of your face. You shook your head, looking up from the wrap you were putting on his ankle. “Something’s up with you, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered, securing the ace bandage and cleaning up your station. “Why do you ask?”

“Because when I said that aliens were invading at the end of the month you nodded and went ‘mhm’,” TJ folded his arms over his chest. He looked at you with an expecting gaze.

“Sorry,” you sighed, rubbing your face. “Just been really distracted lately.”

“Wanna talk?” he asked sincerely.

“Not right now,” you shook your head, turning to face him. “You should go get ready, you’ve got a big game.”

“Yeah,” TJ said, clearly not buying your answer as he left the training room.

You sighed deeply and grabbed the things you kept with you on the bench. You hoped the fast paced action of the game would be enough to keep you distracted from the conversation you’d had with your husband just two hours earlier, but you knew seeing him on the ice was just going to make you want to get out of Washington faster.

A couple weeks before the playoffs started you had made a deal with David. When the Capitals’ season was over you were going to join the Boston training staff. David had talked to the necessary people to make it happen and the last time you were in Boston you agreed to the terms. Now, with the Capitals facing elimination, it was seeming way too real way too quick.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to join him in Boston and finally be able to tell people about your marriage. You had just lived in Washington all your life and, while you were on the road a lot for your job, the thought of leaving for another city was daunting. David has assured you that the move to Boston wouldn’t be difficult and that he’d hold your hand the entire time. His words had soothed your worries some, but your mind was still going a million miles per hour.

You absentmindedly chewed on your gum as you stood on the bench. Despite the distraction, you were still looking for anything that might need your immediate attention.

In the first period when David scored you had to use all your self restraint to not cheer. You were thankful for the mask that hid your near giddy smile.

When the game was finally over you were relieved. Though you couldn't show it, you were happy the Capitals had lost. Now all that was left for you to do was turn in your Capitals gear and head over to the Boston side of the arena. Your boss knew you were leaving when the season ended weeks before the playoffs started. He was the only one who knew the true reason for your departure.

“Pasta!” Bergy called, jogging to catch up with his teammate who was already halfway down the hallway. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Yeah,” David nodded.

“What’s going on with you, man?” Patrice asked, folding his arms over his chest and looking at David with a concerned look. “You’ve been distracted all night, that’s not like you.”

David glanced over his shoulder to make sure there was no one around to hear what he had to say. He was about to tell Patrice everything when he saw you walking up to them behind Patrice. David instantly relaxed in your presence.

“Give me two seconds,” Pasta said, holding up a finger and darting over to take your hand. “I’m so happy you came.”

“You didn’t think I would?” you asked as David cupped your cheek in his hand. His blue eyes were casted down to your feet. “Baby, I was never not going to come to Boston with you. I just needed to turn in my stuff. Did you really think I wasn’t coming?”

“For a second I thought you might have decided to stay here,” he responded in a low voice, his accent thicker than normal. He shook his head as if he were clearing the doubts from his mind before taking your other hand. “Is it okay if we tell Patrice?”

You looked over his shoulder to where Patrice Bergeron was intently watching the interaction.

“Yes,” you nodded, your gaze flicking back to David. He smiled beneath his mask and led you over.

“Patrice, this is Y/N,” he introduced you. You shook Patrice’s hand as you clinged to David’s side. “My wife.”

“Wife?” Patrice asked, freezing as he dropped your hand. He glanced down to the ring on David’s finger and it all fell into place. Why he always disappeared for a couple hours whenever they were playing the Capitals. Why he started to leave team functions earlier. Why he was almost always alone when he was on the phone with someone.

“We got married in August,” David said, looking down at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“We didn’t tell anybody because we didn’t know what the reaction would be,” you said.

“First, as your captain, I want you to know you can tell me anything and I won’t say a word if you don’t want me to,” Patrice said, looking at David. “Second, it’s nice to finally meet you even though I had no idea you existed.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you laughed, already feeling welcome.

“So can I ask why you’re just telling us now?” Patrice asked, folding his arms once more.

“Well in March I finally realized that Washington wasn’t the place I wanted to be and that I wanted to be in Boston with David,” you said, looking up at your husband. “We had a conversation and we agreed that once the Capitals season was over I would join the Bruins training staff since there was an opening.”

“We kept it secret until the opening came up,” Pasta said, giving your hip a comforting squeeze. “I talked with the people here I needed to to make sure she got the job and she talked with her boss.”

“That sounds great,” Bergy shrugged his shoulders. “So why were you all distant before the game?”

“This series put a strain on the plan,” Pasta sighed. You rubbed his back, sensing his uneasiness.

“I didn’t want to look bad, leaving Washington for Boston when this series ended,” you said, interjecting so David didn’t need to speak. “I know nobody knows the training staff but if announcers got a hold of it we didn’t want me to look like I was jumping ship to Capitals fans.”

“Makes sense,” Patrice nodded.

“I think I’ve kept you a secret for too long,” David said, looking down at you. “Is everybody still in the locker room?”

“Yeah, they should all be there,” Patrice nodded, pushing himself off the wall and starting down the hallway. “I should give you a word of warning, Y/N, they can be a bit much sometimes.”

“I’m used to it,” you reassured him as Bruce Cassidy stepped out of the locker room.

“Good, I was just going to come look for you two,” he said before his gaze landed on you. “Y/N, I presume?”

“That’s me,” you nodded, shaking his hand.

“Welcome to Boston,” he said warmly. “Wanna get the paperwork out of the way then meet the team?”

“Sure,” you nodded, detaching yourself from David and following Bruce down the hallway.

“You picked a good one,” Patrice said, clapping David on the shoulder.

“I know I did,” David smiled to himself as he watched you step into an office, followed by Don Sweeney and Cam Neely. “I’m proud of her.”

“You should be,” Patrice nodded.

“I’m looking forward to working with you,” Bruce shook your hand as you parted ways with Neely and Sweeney and walked back towards where David and Patrice were waiting outside the locker room.

“So am I,” you agreed.

“Come on, let’s introduce you,” Patrice said, patting your shoulder and walking into the locker room. The team, once antsy with waiting, feel silent with the sudden presence of their coach, captain, teammate, and new girl.

“Thanks for waiting, boys,” Bruce started. “You all had a good game and I’m sorry for keeping you but I’d like to now hand it over to Bergy and Pasta, they have something to tell you.”

“As you guys know Nate had to leave the training staff a few months ago and we’ve been a little shorthanded,” Patrice started. You could feel the glances the team sent your way. “So I’d like to introduce Y/N as the newest member of the training staff.”

You nodded in thanks to the applause the team gave you.

“But I think Pasta might want to introduce her as someone else,” Patrice stepped aside.

“I would like to introduce Y/N as my wife,” Pasta ripped the bandage off. You braced yourself for whatever reaction the team might have. They were silent for a moment before Tuukka stood up, walked over, and all but yanked you from under David’s arm into a hug. The locker room erupted into what could only be described as chaos as the players jockeyed for a hug.

“Still think it was a good idea?” Patrice asked jokingly as he watched the scene unfold before him.

“Yup,” David nodded before going over and ripping you away from Jake.

“What the hell man? I wanted a hug!”

“I’ve decided that I’m the only one who gets to hug Y/N.”

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akaashisupremacy · 3 years

Text

How to Find Love

Summary: Iwaizumi is on a quest to find love with an old friend. What can he do to get there?

Iwaizumi x fem!reader/Oc || Read it on A03

Genre : romance, friends to lovers

Hajime Iwaizumi ran into the cafe, eyes wide and panicky. “I’m already twenty minutes late for the date.”

As he composed himself before he entered the place, he took a deep breath. He was determined to enjoy this date because it might be their last. Hiromi had never taken lateness kindly.

“Gomen, the meeting ran longer than expected,“ he said, nodding his head into a bow, too embarrassed to meet her eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

She looked up from her books with a weary smile. Beside her was a pile of four or five books, some of which were beginning to yellow, meticulously tabbed with colorful post-its.

“You still made it,” she said, closing her book “I usually walk out if my date was a full hour late.”

It was a Thursday. She had an afternoon at the library while he had an early off (if it wasn’t for his work meeting). Neither of them worked traditional 9 to5 jobs. He began to wonder if seeing each other would be easier if they did. Iwa was leaving on a Friday for Osaka for the rest of the weekend. He was a physical trainer for a professional volleyball team, which meant that he travelled with them during their season.

They called for a menu and began to order what would be their dinner.

“How’s work?” he asked, surveying her through the menu.

“It’s a lot of reading,” she gestured towards her stack of books, “But we’re at the beginning of a new research-heavy campaign so it’s normal. How about you?"

“Mmm…it’s still the start of the season so most of the team is quite healthy. Some of them are a little excited so we’re just trying to reign them in to keep them from straining themselves.” he said, thumbing through the pages.

He had settled for a hamburg curry rice while she had gone for a bowl of tuna pasta. She looked distracted.

“What’s up?” he asked, leaning into the table now that the niceties were done with.

“I like my job. I like my team. But why do I feel like I’m just grinding day in and day out." she sighed, resting her chin on her books, “There’s got to be more in adult life than this."

“You’ve got to find the reason out on your own because your employer won’t do it for you. Not that I’m qualified to give advice or anything.” he said, looking up from his drink.

“I know,” she murmured, her head rested between her folded arms “It’s just so difficult to find the energy for it sometimes.”

Iwaizumi nodded. He knew what she meant. No one job could fulfill all his desires for accomplishment. He liked his job, but it wasn’t a perfect job. He wished that he didn’t need to spend so many weekends away from home.

Man, this date was sobering.

“You sound burnt out. Maybe take it slower at work?” he quirked his head to match the angle of hers.

“What is it that you want to do that you’re not doing for work?” he asked. Despite less than a year in the workforce, she already looked so glum.

She pulled herself up and swept her books aside, “I don’t know to be honest. Within the next two years, I just want to be published in other big publications. It doesn’t have to be necessarily on food, more like the stuff I write for fun. The stuff I’m willing to freelance while I have a day job, y’know?”

“Like what?”

Their order had arrived. She stabbed her fork into her pasta and gently twirled it around.

“The New York Times has a column called Modern Love where you write a long essay about some type of love. It doesn’t have to be romantic. It can be platonic, familial, or even failed love as long as it is set in modern day. I’ve been meaning to write about my failed relationships.” she said thoughtfully.

Iwa choked on his first spoonful.

“Well, if this doesn’t work out, I can at least write about it. Get three hundred dollars and buy you dinner to thank you for the experience.” she laughed drily.

“Are you always this pessimistic on your first dates?” he coughed, taking a sip of water “Either ways, I’m glad to be of help.”

She perked up a bit and grinned. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. A wave of warmth washed over him.

“Send me a copy when you get published.” he added, “I want to see what you write about me.”

“I’m definitely going to writet that you were late on the first date.” she said without skipping a beat. She was grateful that they had chosen this cafe. There were not too many people even if it was dinner time, yet the ambient noise that filled the air kept their pauses from being too silent.

Iwa stopped eating and squinted his eyes at her, “You are not gonna let me live this down, huh?" She winked at him with a glint in her eye. He smiled in response.

He couldn’t care less about what the New York Times was but she was evidently fascinated by it. He wasn’t going to own up to uncultured swine he was on a first date. He had already been late.

“Anyways tell me more about this Modern Love.” he settled back into his dinner.

She pulled out her phone and began typing, “The Modern Love column came out with questions to help get to know someone. This could be a fun date activity.”

“Sure, you want to give it a go?”

She shoved the phone in his face and scrolled through the questions. “There are three sets of questions. Each set more intimate than the last. You can choose from the first set.”

Iwa lightly held the phone, his fingertips grazing the back of her hand. He chose the first question that caught his eye.

“Number 4. What would constitute a ‘perfect’ day for you?” he read out loud. Hiromi took her phone back and read the question to herself.

“What’s your answer?” she asked.

“I just got back, I hadn’t figured out what a perfect day would be like here.” he shrugged sincerely.

She snorted loudly, “What a cop out answer!”

Iwa looked up and thought for a bit, “A day spent walking around in the city…maybe a day that starts with a morning jog and a hot unrushed breakfast after. Catching up with friends sounds good too.”

Hiromi nodded. She was fully absorbed as he talked. It was like she was going through the scenes of his day in his mind as he described them.

“What about you?” he asked, snapping out of her out of her reverie.

“A day at the market,” she said quietly. ”Any market day is a good day really.”

“To be honest, it doesn’t depend on the activities so much at times. The people you’re with is definitely important. A day at the market can still be terrible with the wrong company.” she added.

“I wasn’t subpar last weekend, was I?” he asked.

“No...you weren’t.” she replied a little more shyly than usual.

They moved onto the next question.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” she read out loud, “Doesn’t have to be romantic again.”

Iwaizumi inhaled sharply. That was such a loaded question.

“If you’ll use this for an article and it gets published, you better buy me dinner someplace nice.” he tutted.

“Then make this one good.” she smirked.

Iwaizumi stopped eating for a few minutes to think through the question. Before he answered, he closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.

“It defined my entire career in volleyball. My best friend and I watched a game and we kind of chose to go into the same school team after that because we were both so obsessed with the sport. Our connection was almost telepathic. We barely used signals when it was just the two of us. We basically ran off instinct.” said he softly, his eyes reminiscing a different time.

“Although we went our separate ways after high school, I spent so much time in volleyball that it defined a huge part of who I was too. I mean, if I didn’t play volleyball, I would probably be in another sport, but I’d still think I’d be different, y’know?”

You could tell he was avoiding the word “love.” Iwa was not one to be vulnerable.

“In college when I was in my first serious relationship, it was the type of love that gave me confidence and assurance. But I guess it wasn’t enough…for me to say it deeply impacted my later choices on career and other decisions, unlike volleyball.”

“I can’t help but feel that any defining…relationship I have romantically will be weighed against with my time with volleyball…my first real love…" he tried to laugh it off, but you felt the weight off his words, “And I’ve been lucky enough to have enough love in my life that I don’t need to constantly be in a relationship to feel complete.”

A moment of silence fell in between the two.

“That’s a lot to heap on a relationship.” she whispered in contemplation.

Iwa awkwardly scrambled for damage control, “…no pressure.” was all he managed to say.

“So why try to date? When it’s so tough to find someone who can match up with volleyball?” she asked.

“Companionship?” he shrugged, “It’s still nice to date around.”

“And you’re…nice. I’ve been wanting to date you since we were in college. I’ve liked you for a long time…” his entire face flushed pink.

Her eyes fluttered wide open. Since college? Is he serious?

“Our friends were right,” she said in a hush, “You did have a thing for me. I thought they were just teasing us.”

“You had a boyfriend back then and when you broke up with him, I was seeing someone else.” he exhaled, looking her earnestly in the eye, “Wasn’t it obvious to you?”

Iwaizumi couldn’t tell if Hiromi just didn’t want to speak or was too busy contemplating. She was too stunned to speak.

“It felt like fate seeing you on the plane.”

A million things were going through her mind, she slowly opened her mouth, “Now that we’ve been on two half dates, what’s it like? Is this what you’d thought it would be?”

“College is very different from now, but the short answer is yes.” he nodded, rolling his shoulders back. “Everything just clicks. I’m so comfortable with you. It’s so easy for us to talk. I like you just as much as I did in college…I just really like you. Time hasn’t changed that at all.”

Hiromi looked overwhelmed. She was unable to look him in the eye. She was barely getting to know him romantically and he had long been decided about his feelings for her.

“Do you wanna ask if they sell alcohol here? You look like you need a drink.” he joked. Hiromi didn’t look like she heard him.

"This is so intense for a first date.” she shook her head in what seemed like regret.

“We can stop,” he gently interjected, “We can talk about something else.”

She finally looked up to him and whispered, “Hajime, you’ve just dumped a lot of pressure on me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to do that,” he smiled apologetically, “Anyways, I’m aware that we’re both at different…stages of attraction. Besides, I think this would be way more awkward if we both were pining.”

“Wouldn’t that be sweeter?” she asked.

“Way too sappy for me.” he waved with his hand. Hiromi let out a small chuckle. Iwa secretly sighed in relief.

——————————————————————————— After dinner, they headed to the arcade to blow off some steam. Iwaizumi offered to carry some of her books to which he somewhat regretted. Her books were like rocks. How the hell was she lugging them on her own in the city?

“I could carry them on my own if it’s too heavy.” she offered.

Iwaizumi looked at her incredulously. She was at least half a foot shorter and much smaller in build. His biceps weren’t going to buck in front of her.

They wandered around the arcade for a bit, unsure what to do first. Iwa silently prayed they didn’t have to do any dancing. Just when they were about to decide on the claw machine, Hiromi pointed towards a small karaoke booth at the corner of her eye.

“Let’s go in there.” she tugged at his jacket.

Iwaizumi flipped through the songs. None of them seemed to be in Japanese. All of them were in English.

“Did you pick up a default english karaoke song?” she asked, browsing through the catalogue. The room was clearly designed for kids. It was so small their knees touched and Iwa could barely sit up without hitting his head on the ceiling.

“Nah,” he shook his head, “I don’t really sing…in English. Any suggestions?”

Hiromi typed in the number of a song.

“I’m about to introduce you to your first usable English karaoke song.” she grinned at him mischievously. Iwa looked at her suspiciously.

The opening notes started to play—some acoustic guitar and a trumpet. The song sounded…Mexican? For the longest time there were no lyrics on the screen. Hiromi swayed to beat as her eyes were glued to the screen. When the song finally began to hit what sounded like the chorus, the music paused for a second.

“TEQUILA!” she yelled into the mic.

Iwaizumi was so startled he jumped up and hit his head on the ceiling. Hiromi was giggling uncontrollably.

“That’s it?!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah,” she laughed, pressing the mic towards him, “You try on the next chorus.”

When the trumpets began playing, Iwa readied himself. The song hits its familiar pause soon enough and he pulls the mic closer to his lips.

“Tequila?” he said tentatively.

“With more conviction, Hajime!” she urged, taking back the mic. On the third chorus, she moved closer to him so they could share the mic.

The music hits its third pause, they looked at each other and yelled, “TEQUILA!”

They both grinned and laughed, almost as if the act of singing about alcohol was like a drink in itself. He could feel her shins pressed against him as she continued to sway for the music. A glint in her eye flickered as she nudged him to dance along with her.

Iwaizumi wasn’t going to refuse. Especially not on their first date. He swayed what he could on the tiny box while the song lasted.

————————————————————————— At the end of the night, they both sat in the train waiting to get off on their respective stops. The carriage shuttled back and forth, pushing and pulling their bodies back and forth into each other.

“Hajime,” she tapped him on his shoulder, “We didn’t finish the last set. Let’s do a quick one before I get off.”

He nodded, “Pick one we can answer with just one word.”

Hiromi swiftly browsed the list, before looking up.

“Finish the sentence, ‘Right now, we are both feeling…’"

Their faces were both so close they could feel the heat of each other’s breath. The back of their hands were touching, but neither dared to reach out or pull away.

“Hopeful.” whispered Hiromi, an evident earnestness in her voice. She was fighting off her shyness just long enough to look him in the eye when she talked.

Iwa smiled, “Smitten.”

Before she could react, the train jolted as it shuffled towards her station.The train stopped at Hiromi’s station and she got up from her seat, taking the books from Iwa’s arms.

He followed her to the exit and watched her as she got off. She gave a small wave from the platform while she watched the doors closed.

Iwa was tempted to press his hands onto the window, unwilling to end their time for the evening. His last sight of her was her smile when the train plunged itself into the night.

“Did he start out his day at the market with a morning jog?” she asked herself, watching the train swiftly pull away.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath. The night had gone differently from how he thought the date would proceed. For one thing, he didn’t expect to confess so early into the relationship.

He took his phone and curiously googled the questions she mentioned.

It turns out the title of the New York Times article was not “Questions to Get to Know Your Date” as Hiromi had led him to believe. Instead, it was titled, “Thirty Six Questions That Lead to Love”.

“Huh,” he said to himself. He shut off the screen to his phone.

36 was too much. In his opinion 3 was enough.

-----------------------------------------------------------

This is part 3 of a series on Iwa living in Tokyo after he moves back from California. Comment or message to be added to the taglist.

Also, I’ve been feeling quite down lately, so say some nice things if you feel like it in the comments 😬✌️

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

Series taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan

#iwazumi fluff #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime 27 athletic trainer #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x oc #seijoh x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfic #hq x oc #haikyuu x oc #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi series #hq fluff #hq imagines #hq scenarios

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nachohypno · 3 years

Text

Pine’s Football Jocks (Rewritten) - Ch. 2

Little heads up: This one is a weird thing. It’s a rewritten version of the original Pine’s Football Jocks, but it contains spoilers for the college series, so it should still be read after reading the other ones (Original included) first, like a sequel.

------

Present Pine's POV

I had an awful day. Nothing bad really happened, just a lot of stuff to do and me not being capable of doing it all. Skipping today's football practice, I had to take a bus to the sports club and check out that everything was working out (Hah, see what I did there?) with the coaches that were working today. I needed more employees? Yes. But keeping up with the maintenance while still having to do my college essays during my free times was actual hell.

I think I'm smart enough to keep being one of the best of my class (Spot that I'm afraid I'll lose soon), but I don't have enough energy to do all of this at once.

I'm not going to lie, these many responsibilities are *burning me out*. I'm heavily considering giving up the football team back to Peter (Of course, keeping him under control and checked), or set a new manager for the sports club. It's a hard choice, but I'm not going to stop studying to keep track of those two little jobs I got for myself. I also love those jocks way too much to let them go.

Have you spent an evening with them? The revamped football team is lovely! They're always joking around and being nice whenever they're not on the field or studying. Gotta spread the jock love around the campus, right?

Taking care of Mike wasn't an easy task either. The big guy was heavily expecting news to know if he would be able to play again without any risks, or if he'd have to focus completely on getting his college degree.

Mikey wasn't used to being restricted before, he's the physical kind of guy and likes to spend a good amount of time working out or playing sports, or chilling in a physical kind of way. Videogames could keep him entertained, but only so much.

So, he went back to his other favorite hobby...

I sat on the couch, leaving my laptop on my lap readying myself to check out some documents, and suddenly heard an awfully loud fart. Jumping up again, I realized I had sat on Mike's whoopee cushion. A loud laugh could be heard from the couch.

"Never gets old! I was wondering how much you would take to sit on that one spot, because filling the couch with whoopee cushions would be quite expensive!" He said while walking into the room, as I took the cushion and threw it at him, but the shot failed awfully.

The guy was wearing a football jersey that looked like a pajama shirt without the armor underneath it. It still managed to make his pecs stand out a bit, which made me take the work off my mind for a bit and I was thankful for that.

I tried to be comprehensive, it was either that or watch his football team play without him while he's on the bench. Or study, but that was always slow and boring for him when he’s not ordered to do so. 'Nothing better than being stuck in here, with an amazing boyfriend, and just being able to read books about biology' He'd say, jokefully, trying to take a bright look at his situation.

I thought about hiring him as one of the club's trainers, since he has a good amount of knowledge on the matter, already helps anyone who'd ask him nicely, and he wouldn't need to make a lot of effort with his bad arm!

...Better than having him prank me all day, I guess. Or laying around while groaning ‘I’m boreeeeeeeed…’

Loud steps and he jumped over the couch to sit down beside me. “Hey there, bro. How was your day? Went to my classes and did all my homework already. Need help with anything?”

“Not really, just gotta finish examining these documents Peter forwarded me and I’ll be done for the day” Just a bit longer and I would be free from work!

“Did coach Peter mention something about me? Maybe he can pull some strings and allow me to… I dunno, take a magic drug that’ll heal my arm and make me into a super soldier?” I can see he has been watching movies lately.

“You know what the doctor said. Just a few more weeks and-”

He rolled his eyes. "C'moooon, just a few more weeks could be enough for that temporary quarterback to steal my spot!" He's so paranoid about that.

"Who's the coach?" I asked him, pushing my glasses back into place.

"You are, bro, but-"

"Thus, who has the final choice about who plays and who doesn't?" I didn't try to sound dominant, but it kind of came out like that on its own.

"You do, sir." Mike answered, sounding a bit defeated. I motioned him to come closer, and he did, then I grabbed his hand and pulled him in to lay on my lap (Being careful and leaving the laptop beside me to make room for him).

"Just relax, let your arm get better, then you'll be back on the field in no time, alright?" I whispered to him, trying to sound confident. A little kiss on his lips, and he nodded.

"Sure, whatever you say." He sighed.

I ruffled his hair. "Good boy, now... Want to hear the rest of the story? You fell asleep yesterday" Maybe that would get his mind off things again. It seemed to make wonders yesterday.

"Really? Oh, fuck. Where were we?" Mike asked, scratching the back of his head nervously. "I remember the outing, I went to change, then we resumed with some time later on?"

"Before I got my powers, yeah." I finished, turning around from him and looking for the doc file on my laptop. "Well, take a seat. I have some time so we can continue the story where we left it..."

As I grabbed my laptop, Mike got up and positioned himself belly down on the couch, occupying the rest of available space while getting comfortable (He kind of didn’t fit while doing that, so he had to keep his legs up to actually fit his whole torso on the couch).

I chuckled, before leaving the laptop on my lap again and looking over for the spot I left it at yesterday...

-----

Past Pine's POV

Nighttime already. My arm was still hurting, but quite less than earlier today.

My family was nice. Mom and dad are nice, and my big brother Dwight sometimes comes to visit after a big exam. He's not a jock, but he's not a nerd either. You learn to differentiate them after a while. Just those two sides of the spectrum exist for me: Nice guys, and not so nice guys. He's nice, but loves to bug me from time to time. ‘Middle point’ is how I describe him.

It's understandable though, I'm easy to bug.

I honestly just wanted to go to sleep, and silently count the days until my graduation. Then, I'd be able to enter some random college, hopefully a great one, and be done with this.

After dinner, I went up to the bathroom and checked out my arm. It didn’t look bad, nor it had any sign of me having been shoved. Just a little pain, but nothing else. I could cope with that.

Going back to my room afterwards, I dropped to bed and just reminded myself it would all be over soon. A nice career waiting for me after college if I worked hard enough, then the good life!

A little smile formed on my face as I fell asleep.

Okay, I'm not a big dreamer. Like, I never have dreams, and if I do they're weird things where I get run over by cars out of nowhere or medieval-like settings. Like my mind is setting up these weird scenarios to keep myself entertained even when I sleep, but I often forget about them quickly so no point on that either.

This time, it was like I was awake, but at the same time I kind of knew I was asleep.

A lullaby was being hummed, I was on my bed covered by my sheets, the ones that protect me from monsters!

The lullaby was nice and relaxing, but it felt like... it came from inside my head? Imagine being in your bed all comfy and suddenly Zelda's Lullaby starts playing on your head and makes you feel like everything is alright but nothing is alright because there are still months of bullying waiting for you at school but those thoughts are also getting muffled by the nice lullaby, which made not want to move at all.

The thing kept going for a few minutes, which developed into a nice sleep for the night as I forgot about my worries. Like I was a bit more 'in control' of my anxieties.

One thing was for certain, that was the best sleep I had in a goooood while.

------

The relaxation didn't last long.

I felt sick. I really didn't want to go to school today. One thing was for certain, that was one hell of a weird dream, but also quite amazing.

I had a really bad headache, but it didn't feel fever-ish. I could move myself without any pain, so I thought it was just a lack of sleep. 'Maybe a coffee will help me out...' I thought, as I got up from bed and lazily walked out. According to my phone, I woke up way sooner than I should have to. But maybe that'd give me time to enjoy a nice breakfast. Believe me, I'm not in a hurry to go to school anymore.

'Ugh... Can't see...' I thought. I liked to wash my face before putting my glasses on. Helps me wake up faster, maybe it'd help with the headache too.

Walking out of my room in my pajamas, with my glasses in hand.

I yawned, rubbing my eyes.

"Watch it!" I heard my brother saying. He had come out of his own room and we almost crashed into each other. He didn't sound mad, just a bit annoyed. "Rough night?"

"Uh... kinda," I mumbled, trying to process all the stuff he just said.

My older brother patted my back "Don't stay up studying for too long, you'll forget half of it once you graduate anyways." He said in a funny voice. As I mentioned, he's nice. Loves to bug me and my love for disconnecting from the world by just... reading books, but he's still a good brother.

"Never, heheh." I tried to seem cool, finger gunning at him, but Dwight just laughed at me. "Hey, you're heading downstairs, right?" He nodded. He was wearing some joggins and a sweatshirt, so I guessed he was going to jog for a while. "Turn the coffee machine on, please. I wouldn’t mind a good breakfast today…” I said, holding my stomach with my empty hand. I was hungry, not going to lie.

I didn't get an answer from him, but instead noticed him walking away without a single word. Quite rude I thought, but decided to shrug the thought off and go to the bathroom.

After washing my face, I placed my hand on my forehead. It was normal, no fever, but the pain was still there. I could ask mom if I should take some medicine, but she may still be asleep.

A little part of me wanted to use this as an excuse to miss school today. Imagine getting through the whoooole day, with Garrett and his army of neanderthals following your ass all day, and not in the good way.

Walking downstairs, still in my pajamas, I noticed Dwight walking out of the kitchen and heading outside already. I opened my mouth to ask if he did my coffee, but he faced me as soon as he noticed my presence.

“Hey, made you some quick breakfast. Enjoy, Piney! Gonna jog for a while, alright?” I nodded, kind of wondering what got to him. It’s like, he’s not really a bad brother, but he wouldn’t make me breakfast even if I asked reeaaaally nicely.

I stood there as I watched him leave the house. I went to the kitchen afterwards, and noticed Dwight prepared me a mug of coffee and left a cereal bar next to it. Hey, he tried! That’s what counts.

I enjoyed my quick breakfast as I watched a bit of TV, trying to make time before going to school, but I figured I wouldn’t be able to do that. Even if I tried to take it slow, I felt compelled to finish quickly and go back to my room to change.

Sucks being such a responsible asshole! But whatever, my mug was empty and I finished my cereal bar.

Just had to get ready, head to school and… try to be a ninja around there, because this headache wasn’t going off.

---------

Hours later, it had been a good day so far!

I mean, as good as a school day can be, of course, but I still really enjoyed my classes! No jocks nearby either, so that’s another plus!

My headache wasn’t there anymore, luckily. It’s like the world was turning brighter for me each moment I thought about it. I had fun in math and literature, Garrett and a few of his teammates were there, but either they didn’t notice me or my ninja skills (Aka lowering my head to the point of seeming stuck to the table) helped a lot!

And now, I just had to head to my locker, leave last class’s book in there and grab the next one, and keep doing as well as-

“Oh hey, it’s faggot!”

Spoke too soon.

I didn’t look back, I tried to pick up my pace as soon as I heard the familiar voice, but it seemed to be quite pointless.

Garrett grabbed me by the shoulders, and dragged me into an empty classroom. My attempt to make a stealthy escape failed miserably and I was now getting one of my weekly’s beat ups. The sad part was that nobody in the corridor seemed to notice or care.

Closing the door after throwing me in, I started walking away from him. Maybe I could loop him around some tables, I saw that working in a video game!

“What’s up, faggot? Scared of a real man like me?” He slapped his chest, asserting his dominance or something? Fuck, and I thought this was going to be a good day.

The guy chuckled at his comment, before charging against me. I avoided him, and started walking around a desk, trying to avoid him by keeping a good chunk of distance and going towards the opposite direction he tried to go. I knew he was getting mad quite fast, but I didn’t care. If I could slow him down enough for the bell to ring, I’d be happy and safe!

Good thing that this was a biology/chemistry classroom. The desks were long enough for me to keep distance from the big mean guy, and if he tried to attack me I could maybe grab something from the desk and get him off me…

Fuck, my thoughts about self-defense using chemistry instruments distracted, and Garrett was now a few feet away from me now. He enjoyed this little cat and mouse game, it got him in the mood for ‘a good beating’. I wonder if he’s mentally sick or something like that, because he enjoys this a lot.

“Fuck, you’re really putting on a show today, ain’t ya?” He mumbled, grabbing me by the wrist and twisting it to make me move closer to him.

“Let… go!” I told him, covering my face with my free hand just in case he tried to hit me.

And surprisingly, he did.

Of course, I didn’t stop covering my face. But I did notice the jock was standing there, his face still showing off that proud asshole-ish grin. “Wait… you’re letting me go?” I asked, with some hope in my voice. Maybe Garrett wasn’t so bad after all!

“Uh… yeah… no need to hold you to beat you up!” He resumed. After that little ‘realization’, the linebacker tried to charge at me without a single doubt on his face. He was really enjoying this

After that, the guy walked closer and held his fist up preparing his first strike. Before that would happen, I yelled “Stop!”. What, you thought I’d stand there waiting for the blow? I’m not an idiot! Hopefully, someone would hear me and rush inside the classroom!

Once again, I was surprised to realize Garrett did as I said. Or sort of. He froze in place, still smiling with his fist high. I kept walking away but my bully didn’t move at all. By this point, I knew something wrong was going on. I mean, I’m not saying I would have preferred for him to beat me up, but I was pretty curious about what was happening.

“Man, can’t wait to freaking beat you up today. Had an awful morning and I need my favorite punching bag to get off” But he still wouldn’t move.

“Then… what are you waiting for?” I was tempting him now. What if this was just a very elaborated joke and he would just break my glasses with a single punch?

“I dunno. Just wanna prolong it to scare you a bit more, I guess” He shrugged. He freaking shrugged, like we were chatting about a normal subject, not beating me up.

I loved that last ‘I guess’ though. It kind of gave me a little push to try out if this was really happening or I was just going crazy while Garrett played around with me like a spider.

“Can you put your arms down?” I asked him, and he did so. He still retained his cocky smile, but he just seemed alright with doing what I just asked him to do for me. “Uhm… Flex now?” And he did as I asked.

Okay, I’m not going to say I lust after this piece of poop, but these biceps oh lord. I wondered if he was on steroids or something. Can a senior student really be that muscled?

He’s 18, like most of my class and his whole team, but I think he’s one of the biggest ones I’ve seen in there. “Can tell you’re really thirsty, nerd. No wonder why, always knew you had a crush on me. Sick pervert…” He mumbled.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t mind being as far from you as possible.” I was cocky and I shouldn’t act like that. “But now that you mention it, I’d like to examine you closer and I’m sure you won’t try to harm me in any way.”

Uh… his eyes seemed weird, but before I could check them out, they returned to normal as he started speaking again. “Of course I won’t. Why would I waste my energy in a lil’ faggot like you?” Was his answer, before I walked closer to him. He was still flexing his arms, pecs noticeable under his shirt. Baby stepping towards him, I reached out and started touching his arms first.

“Not going to lie… you do have some nice muscles…” I mumbled, bringing my other arm to feel him up too. I was shaking, my heart was beating like crazy, but I couldn’t help myself. Garrett was exposing himself to me like it was a normal thing to do.

“I know I do. Chicks love ‘em, but you don’t know about that, huh faggot? You look skinny as a twig.” Ouch. I mean, it wasn’t really something hurtful, especially since he told me worse things before.

It was a good chance to try out if this was an elaborate joke or not. “Hey, that wasn’t nice at all. You should apologize, Garrett. Pretty sure you just want to be a nice guy to me, don’t you?” I took a step back again, because there was a 50% chance it would actually be a big joke and he was just playing along until this point.

“Y’know what? You’re right, nerd. I’m sorry. Would hate if someone body-shamed me too… Uh…” I was really surprised. Jaw-dropping surprise. Here was Garrett, the king of the football team, the big meanie, the superior asshole, apologizing to me after I suggested him to do so. I think I noticed his eyes getting glazed as he spoke? I couldn’t tell, there was a few inches of distance and my glasses weren’t helping now.

“Thank… you?” I didn’t know how to take what was going on. Maybe I was still dreaming! Hmm… No, dreams aren’t this long. Something definitely happened, and Garrett is doing what I tell him to do.

I looked up at him, as he stared around, probably trying to avoid looking at me or I just wasn’t worth his attention anymore.

My bully didn’t seem so menacing anymore, he just looked like a normal guy. It doesn’t erase the fact that he brought me so much pain before but… he was just exploring the area with his gaze now, like he just got bored of me and wanted something else to focus on.

I still don’t know if I’m doing something or if he just decided to be less of an asshole suddenly, but it seems that he’s reacting quite obediently to what I’m saying. Remembering that we are in an empty classroom that may not stay empty for too long, I decided we may just leave the scene and try out more stuff later, for testing purposes.

“So… I’m going to my next class now…” I started to say, and Garrett looked at me again.

The jock nodded. “Yeah… I should do the same, nerd. Uh…” Again, he seemed confused. Scratching the back of his head, he turned around and started walking towards the classroom’s door.

“But… Uhm… I think you should invite me over to your place after school…” I had to find the words for this to not sound weird, but it was almost impossible. How do you suggest someone to invite them to your place? I’m not a very social guy either, so that added a bit of doubt if what I was saying was normal or not. “You know, for a good study session with your favorite nerd?”

I tried to appeal to the nickname he gave me. It was better than ‘faggot’ at least. Garrett stared at me, like waiting for me to finish talking, before flashing a smile. “Yeah, of course we’re going to my place. I’ll take ya after school, I guess?” His confusion was still notorious, but he seemed to try and take the best out of this. It was quite nice from him.

After he walked out of the classroom, I did a little celebration dance. I got Garrett to not only not beat me up, but also treat me nice! I still wasn’t sure what was going on, but I’m going to enjoy this evening after school!

-----

As you may have guessed, I was kind of dying inside. Not literally, but I like to be dramatic sometimes.

Garrett waited for me after school in his car. I sat on the co-driver’s seat and just… stood there silent. He didn’t seem like a chatter box either, so it was just a nice silent moment between bully and random gay guy.

After a few moments of staring straight ahead, the jock turned the car on and drove off. His face didn’t seem confused anymore, but it was clear he wasn’t happy either. I wasn’t a blissful flower either, I knew what I was doing.

I wanted to try out this apparent new “ability” of mine, and it got me to Garrett’s house. Now I was walking into the wolf’s mouth, but he wouldn’t be as dumb as to beat me up in his own house, right?

“So… Garrett… Uh… Tell me what do you think about like… us, hanging out today?” I asked him, still nervous but trying to get the hang of whatever that was going on with me. “Oh, and uh… be honest about it, speak your mind and all that”

He eyed me, probably a bit weirded out by my choice of words, but still answered “It’s weird. I never thought I’d be driving you home, much less having a study session with you. You being, y’know, a nerdy fag and all that. It’s weird that we’re hanging out at all, we never hung out before”

Then he focuses back on the road. I did the same, not knowing what to answer. But he gave me a little push, returning the question. “What about you? Uh… Have you ever tutored someone before? I know my mates need some help”

“I used to help Mikey- Ehem, Mike, with his homework. And I find learning exciting, so helping others with it just comes naturally, you know?”

“Y’sound like a nerd. Sorry, had to point that out” He turned the wheel, and I noticed the houses looked a bit more luxurious on this side of town. Not that my house is awful or anything, but these look like really cozy places to be. I knew Garrett was wealthy, but didn’t know he lived in a mansion!

“What’s the deal with Mike anyway? I used to think you two were lovers or some shit like that, never got what he found in you.” The jock continued, without taking his eyes off the road.

I got a glimpse of his big arms as they held the steering wheel. They seemed to be holding the thing really aggressively, before letting go slowly. Like he was struggling, but it made his muscles and veins stand out a bit more.

“That’s kind of personal, so… I wouldn’t like to go there, if you don’t mind.” I tried to avoid the topic, especially because he was one of the reasons I stopped hanging out with Mike, but I don’t think he cared about it. Garrett wasn’t a nice guy.

He shrugged, “Whatever, keep the love story for yourself then. We… just arrived.” He took a moment for those last few words because he tried to park on the big driveway. The house was reaaaally nice looking. Like, not huge, but at the same time not your normal suburban house. I loved it, not going to lie.

I was in awe, as I grabbed my stuff and walked out of the car. The place was beautiful! And Garrett stopped at the front door waiting for me. He was waiting for me!

I picked up the pace and followed him in. The ‘lobby’ was good looking too. Kind of empty, but still gave that welcoming feeling you expect when you enter a house.

“So, do you prefer studying in the dining room, or my room? You’re the… teacher…? here, I guess” It didn’t feel natural for him to say that, I could tell. He was still kind of struggling, as his hands were closed and seemed to be clenching into fists, but at the same time he offered me a gentle smile.

“Your room would be perfect. We could use some extra privacy for… studying. Yeah, just studying.” I replied, as I kept looking around. I’m not going to get tired to say that this place is huge-

My little expedition was interrupted by Garrett’s pair of big hands. Taking me on a tour apparently wasn’t his goal, he just made sure I walked faster towards our destination: His bedroom, while not getting distracted by the place.

My bully only let go of me once we arrived at his room. He let me go in first, before dropping himself on his desk chair. The door was wide open, and I was tempted to close it but maybe I should make a bit of chit chat first.

Garrett’s room… It was alright. In comparison to the rest I’ve seen so far in this house, this one room looked kind of small, but still wide enough to contain Garrett’s interests. A computer, a console with a pair of joysticks, and a big bed against the wall.

“What are we going to study, by the way?” He looked at me. I took a good moment to examine his face now. No more confusion, one of his eyebrows raised, as he stared at me with friendly eyes.

His arms were still kind of twitching, but he was apparently trying to contain them by playing with one of his cord bracelets.

Now, time to keep testing my ‘power’.

“Well…” It was difficult to put it into words. He seemed to believe and/or do whatever I suggested him to do, and find out a way to make it his own idea. That’s what I theorized so far. So… “Garrett… You trust me completely.” I tried to avoid making it sound like a question, and more like an order. It was weird, but I just wanted to put more ‘power’ into my words, if that makes sense?

Now that I could see him clearly, I noticed his eyes definitely glazed over before he spoke again “I trust you completely.” After the words were said, emotion had returned to his face already. He sat down on his bed, still staring at me.

That’s great! I actually do seem to have powers! And Garrett was doing everything I said! Fuuuuuuck. This opened so many possibilities. I wanted to jump with excitement but I didn’t want Garrett to think I was weird.

“And also, we weren’t going to study,” Okay, this seems like I’m pulling his dick now. Studying was the whole reason he ‘invited’ me over, so if I pulled that out of the question, his reaction could change completely, right? Don’t mind me, just investigating here. “You asked me to come because you wanted to talk with me”

As I thought, he seemed confused again. Poor guy may be having the weirdest day of his life. But he didn’t fight me on that, he just nodded before agreeing. “Uh… Yeah…” Then he shook his head for a bit “Sorry, nerd. I’m a bit lost today. I can’t even remember what I wanted to talk about, fuck.”

The bigger guy tapped his head a few times, apparently trying to remember. Better help him ‘remember’ what he had to say, hehehe.

“It’s okay, you actually told me what you wanted to say and everything. You want to apologize for being such a dick to me” I don’t usually speak like this, but if I got him to apologize, then getting him to do anything else may be a piece of cake. And if I’m going way too far, then at least hearing that apologize would be really great on its own.

His eyes went glassy again. Great! A few seconds afterwards, he replied with a “Yeah. I’m really sorry for being such a dick to you.” And after shaking his head again, his blank face changing to a sad expression “Can’t believe I did all those awful things to you, I’m so fucking sorry, man.”

No more glazed eyes, but he didn’t seem to be tearing up exactly. I’m not a sadistic guy though, I just wanted a bit of payback after these few months. I could use the dick card and be like ‘I don’t accept that, you’ll have to do so much better for me to forgive you’.

But… I’m smarter than that.

“Okay, apology accepted, I guess.” I tried to sound uninterested, but the apology thing was enough for me to internally freak out again. Couldn’t show mercy, though! “I’ll have to think it through, but in the meantime we could… make a deal?”

Garrett raised his eyebrow, but before he could reply something or tell me to fuck off, I decided to interrupt his train of thoughts with another command. “You’re curious about what I’m talking about and you’ll accept the deal no matter what it is”

That should be explicit enough. Eyes glazed over again, as he nodded slowly.

“Yeah… I’m really curious. What do you have in mind, nerd-o?” That ‘nerd’ thing would be nice to change, but it’s not as bad as it felt before, at least!

I tried to think about exactly what I wanted to say to him, because I didn’t know if I could control this ‘persuasion’ or ‘make him obey whatever I say’ thing. So better be careful, even if he deserved an accident.

“This is the deal: You will obey everything I say and will love to do so, no questions asked. You’ll start to recognize me as your absolute superior, like… your master? Yeah, that sounds good, you will call me ‘Master’ when we’re alone.”

Garrett remained silent as I talked, which was good. No unwanted interruptions as I explained the terms of our ‘deal’! “You will treat me like your best- No, that spot is sort of still taken… You will treat me like a good friend. Understood?”

No reaction at all, until a few seconds passed. Then a smile appeared on his face. “That’s it? Of course, bro! Sounds like a great deal!”

“Wait, I’m not done.” I wanted this to be the *perfect* moment for us. Like, here was my bully, and I was about to take complete control over him. I didn’t want this to go wrong by any means. “Uh… One last thing, for now. You will start feeling attracted towards me, if that makes sense…” Would I be able to also manipulate his feelings? Only time will tell, I guess.

He didn’t freeze this time; the reaction came way faster than before. Garrett turned around to see if his door was closed, which wasn’t, so he got up to close it before answering a very proud “Yes, master! We got a deal!”

Great! It worked! Now, some testing was needed to ensure the orders I just gave him worked perfectly. First things first… “Do you mind if I call you Gary? Bit less of a mouthful than ‘Garrett’”

“No problem, Master. My bros call me Gary all the time” He stated, smiling like an idiot.

“Right, great. Uhm, stand up now Gary. And, uh… Lift your shirt up so I can check you out” I ordered. The jock in front of me didn’t hesitate, getting up from his bed and moving his hand to the bottom of his shirt, slowly lifting it up.

His abs seemed rock hard, his pecs were great looking. Was this a high school linebacker or a bodybuilder on steroids? Maybe he takes steroids for football? I don’t know, but I loved it. I moved closer and caressed his abs up and down. He just smiled at me as I admired his torso. It was weird, but also quite fun.

“What do you think about this whole… situation, Gary?” I asked, as I moved my hand up to his pecs and played with them for a bit.

“Honestly, I never thought I’d be doing this. But it’s what you want, Master, so I’m happy to do it” ‘Smart answer’ I thought.

“Uh Huh... Say, have you ever… done something with another guy?” I asked him, without taking my eyes off the pecs. “As in sexual stuff, I mean…”

“Nah, Master. I’m straight as an arrow, never done something with another guy. Prefer them chicks with big… personalities, know what I mean?” He sounded gross again for a bit, but as soon as he shut up and went back to smiling like an idiot, I was happy.

“Funny, neither did I,” I said, looking up at his face again. “And you will help me with that, don’t you?”

His smile faded. “Yes, Master.” Gary said, as I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. And he was kissing back.

My first kiss was happening with my bully jock ‘slave’. Huh, that’s weird to say. Guess I’ll have to get used to it.

I didn’t know the difference between ‘good kiss’ and ‘bad kiss’. But it felt amazing, and magical, and just… it was turning me on so much. Maybe I can say that he’s an amazing kisser?

We stood like that, taking little breaks from time to time to breath, where he would smile at me and I would just blush. I don’t romantically like Garrett, he caused me so much pain, but I wanted to enjoy this. I’m not going to cause pain to him, because I’m not evil. I’m nicer than him. Better, I would say.

I found it funny that he would still hold his shirt up. I could have told him to take it off, but there was something about it that made me choose not to. I wanted to see his body, but let’s leave the full naked stuff for later.

We stopped kissing.

“So, uh… I’ve heard rumors about your… ‘thing’, down there.” I mumbled, as I groped his crotch. I wanted to sound confident, but it felt really weird after so much time of keeping myself ‘hidden’. Gary didn’t answer, he was still smiling at me. “Can I see, Gary?”

“Of course, Master. Anything you want!” He accepted, and I looked down to undo his belt and lower his jeans. Huh… It was semi-hard.

A bit veiny, 4/5’ inches semi-hard? I’m not a cock measurer, but I think that’s quite good.

I slowly went down until I faced Gary’s cock. I wasn’t sure if I should do this. This wasn’t going to bring me any pleasure. But maybe…

“Gary, I’m going to give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had. And as I do, I want you to feel the orders and the deal we made today cemented on your mind, understood?” It could be of use for our control thing.

“Understood, Master” I dove in the cock after that. Slowly taking the tip in first and giving some gentle licks before starting to get more of Garrett’s cock inside my mouth. It wasn’t hard to do, getting it inside. And then I just had to take it in and out, being careful with the teeth and trying my best with my tongue.

“You like that?” I asked him as I rested for a few seconds, before getting it back in my mouth. It felt naughty, and awesome! Like, the adrenaline of doing the dirty stuff with another guy… Huh, and I haven’t lost my cherry yet!

“Yeah, feels great… Keep going, Master… Please…” He moaned, arms behind his head as he sported a relaxed face. I loved hearing him calling me master, not going to lie!

Although, after thinking about it for a bit, it would be better if I didn’t let him cum. Maybe I could get him to record a video of himself jerking off or something for later. Anyway…

I took the cock out of my mouth and got up. “I want you to listen carefully, okay?” Gary nodded, not seeming to care about me not finishing the job. “When in public, you will still act somewhat attached to me, like we are good friends. And if someone suspects about it you will explain that I’ve been tutoring you and that I’m an amazing teacher, understood?”

“We’re good friends, you’re helping me with tutoring, and you’re an amazing teacher. Gotcha, Master” He repeated, eyes a bit unfocused again, but still a degree of emotion on his voice.

I ruffled his hair. He would have beaten me up in the past for that, now he just smiled even more than before.

“Good… boy.” Felt amazing to say that! “Could you give me a ride home now?”

-----

Present Pine’s POV

“What’s up now?” I stopped reading after noticing Mike was frowning. Like when you see that one character you don’t like in a TV show on-screen, that type of frown. “I thought you and Gary made up with each other already?” I assumed that was the problem, the big guy may have felt a bit jealous of his former football mate.

It killed me not reading his thoughts whenever I wonder if something is wrong, but I respected my best friend and boyfriend’s mental privacy. And if Leo or any other mind controller (Assuming there are more) discovered about this, they would laugh at my face.

“I know, he’s my bro and all but you gotta admit that he was such a dick before. I’m pretty chilled but I don’t think I could have just… given a turn to his personality and called it a day” He chuckled, as I closed the laptop. “Probably would have been way unforgiving, but you’re the lead here, bro”

“Well anyway, enough story for today. Any thoughts you’d like to share? This one was one of my favorite moments of the first plan I had” I mentioned, leaving the laptop on the coffee table before setting my attention to the jockboy beside me.

“It was great, got me hooked already. It’s also a nice throwback, ‘cuz I barely remember senior year other than ‘playing lots of football’ and doing awesome pranks” Mikey said, leaning in quickly to kiss my cheek. “By the way, which guy comes next? Is it me?”

He seemed excited to know the answer. It was Brent, Garrett’s friend, but I wasn’t going to give it away. Gotta keep my public engaged!

“Sorry big guy, got to keep the mystery, hehe.” Mike looked disappointed at my answer, but I just ruffled his hair. “But hey, all this reading about mind control got me in the mood. Wanna do something?”

“Huh… my thoughts exactly” I don’t know if he intended to make a pun on me being able to read his thoughts, but I wasn’t going to put much thought into it. I had to put thoughts into his head already.

It was like flipping a switch via the mind link, and then Mike’s eyes were glassy, and he had a dumb smile that curiously reminded to that of Gary back when I first enslaved him.

“Who’s a good jock boy?” I asked, pulling Mikey closer to me.

“I am, bruh… I’m a good jock boy, huhuhuh” was his answer, before going back to smiling like a big dummy.

Doing hot stuff with Mikey while his arm was casted wasn’t all that different from before. Now he just had to use his bad arm less than before, but you can still do plenty with one arm. Like have the jock take off his shirt, revealing his nice, muscular torso.

If I weren’t careful, I would be the one drooling here. I leaned in for a kiss, and Mike kissed back.

It was just a nice little moment between the two of us. Making out without a care in the world. Certainly a good way to forget about my responsibilities, no complaints there!

----

Author’s note:

Thanks for reading! I hoped to publish this here a few weeks ago, but writing the next chapter took me more than intended, so the public release also got pushed back a bit. Sorry for that 💦.

But, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And thanks again for reading! <3

#PinesJocks #mind control #hypnotized #straight to gay #gay hypnosis #jock #brainwashing #brainwashed

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nxrthmizu · 3 years

Note

hey babe! idk if u take this kind of requests, im terribly sorry if u dont, i didnt saw anything bout it so im sorry once again. im also sorry if this so happens to trigger u or make u uncomfortable, but if u could perhaps make suna and osamu's reaction to having an insecure s/o? like, she was bullied when younger bc of her weight, so she avoids mirrors, tries dangerous diets and overexercises herself trying to feel better? i had to go to the hospital bc of that and could really use some comfort

»»——⍟——««

request | suna and osamu with a s/o who’s insecure about their weight

warning(s) | self-insecurity, overexerting

words | 1.3k

author’s note | Hey Ana! (It’s been a while, watch me drop into your inbox later >:)) Of course I’ll write this, feel free to dm me if you need someone to talk to okay? I hope you’re feeling better now, remember that your body loves you, so love your body too, okay? <3 mwah

»»——⍟——««

↬ suna rintarou

the first time he brought you to his apartment, he noticed how you eyed the reflective surfaces like they were a threat

you avoided the windows and the one floor-length mirror he has in his room

he didn’t understand why you hated reflective surfaces so much, but the next time you were over at his apartment, he had installed curtains and he hid his mirror inside the closet

when he brought you to a family gathering, he noticed how you flinched when some of his aunts made comments about your weight (he didn’t like them much either, but after seeing how much they affected you he swore he was going to tell them ‘Hi Aunty, you still look pretty young for 75!’ his aunts are only 40-50 years old.)

his aunts eyed you and told you ‘Wow ah girl, you gained some weight since the last time I saw you! Come come, I introduce you to this weight-loss drink, my friend sells it so you can get it for cheaper price!’

the whole time suna was narrowing his eyes and thinking to himself that you didn’t need the stupid weight-loss drink because he thinks you’re perfect the way you are

he’ll be darned if he let them talk to you let that, especially since you look even more uncomfortable by the passing moment

so he interrupts, putting his arm around your waist ‘Wow Aunty, your skin still looks pretty clear, especially since you’re already 70!’

they definitely looked offended but he continued, ignoring them ‘And this weight-loss drink that your friend is selling... Are you drinking it? Because if so...’ he looked them up and down ‘It doesn’t look very effective.’

you’re confused, but you let him do what he wants

your man totally tore down his aunts, no mercy at all

when he was finished, he smiled sweetly at them, told them the two of you needed to get going, and high-tailed out of the family event he didn’t really want to be at anyway

his younger sister covered for the both of you, saying that one of suna’s friends had an emergency and the two of you needed to leave to help his friend

after he brought back to his home, he dragged you into the bedroom, plopped you on the bed, and asked you to be honest with him

you admitted that you were bullied when you were young, and that throughout your teenage years you were constantly picked at by family members/classmates about your weight

you also told him that’s why you avoid mirrors and reflective surfaces, and that you tried dangerous diets and overexercised to the point you collapsed

the whole time he was getting even angrier but he tried not to let it show because damn it he loves you so much why can’t you love yourself too???

proceeded to drag out the floor length mirror and pointed to every part of your body and explained what he liked about it

‘your arms. I like how they feel when you wrap them around me for a hug’ ‘your stomach is always so warm and I love when you let me lie on your stomach’ ‘your thighs are so cute and they feel nice when they’re tangled with my legs’

suna would set an alarm on his phone to remind him to tell you he loves your body every day

he also set up a healthy diet for you, and if you want to go back to exercising he would join you and make sure you don’t overexert yourself

this man would appoint himself as your personal trainer, he’ll go on jogs with you every morning, would help you with your sit ups, will massage your sore muscles after a workout

10/10 the most supportive athlete boyfriend ever

↬ miya osamu

he expresses his love for you in onigiris, so imagine his surprise when you decline his newest salmon onigiri recipe

‘what’s wrong?’ immediately drops everything, has a mini crisis because do you not love him anymore??? did you find someone who makes better onigiris???

you shake him off, tell him it’s nothing, that you’re just not hungry

do you take him for idiot because nope he’s not convinced, not at all

but you didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it so he lets it be, he won’t push you if you don’t want to tell him

osamu started questioning his cooking skills because you’ve been eating less, you’ve been telling him you have no appetite

please tell him it’s not his fault this man is panicking

it went to the point where he called atsumu for help because he’s desperate

atsumu listened to him (without interrupting, what a miracle) and these two clueless brothers tried to piece together what’s wrong

they did not come up with a conclusion lmao

it isn’t until the two of you went to eat dinner with your family that he realises what the problem was the whole time

your cousin, who’s a model, eyes you and tells you you’ve gotten fatter, you should probably get on a diet again

he doesn’t miss the way you flinch visibly

your mother snapped at your cousin, saying that as long as you’re healthy it’s fine

your brother/father told you to ignore your cousin and put some food in your plate

but you didn’t touch your food after that, you just smiled weakly and said you weren’t hungry- That was the point that he realised that his cooking wasn’t the problem

the drive home is quiet, because you’re just staring outside the window with this blank expression

the first thing he does when he gets home is make you an onigiri and a cup of tea, because you didn’t eat much and he will make sure you at least get something in your stomach

he had that expression that said ‘if you don’t eat I will feed you this one mouthful at a time’

so you ate until he was satisfied

he sat down on the couch next to you and made you look at him

‘you are amazing the way you are, I love your body just like I love every other part about you’ he told you with a very determined expression ‘I’ll find a way to make my onigiris with less calories as long you promise me you’ll eat enough’

‘I don’t know what happened to you when you were younger, but all I know is that your cousin is an idiot. you shouldn’t go on a diet, instead you should eat healthily. I’ll research what foods are good for you and I’ll come up with new recipes.’

you were ready to cry because how much more romantic can he get, making new recipes just for you

you told him that you were bullied for your weight when you were younger, and that you tried dangerous diets and once overexercised until you collapsed and had to go to the hospital

not gonna lie, this man was ready to hunt down your cousin and murder someone

‘if you ask me, you look pretty healthy, but if you want to exercise we could do it together, I used to play volleyball in high school after all- And I’ll look up on foods that will help you with your weight’

he made you promise him that you wouldn’t keep saying you weren’t hungry and that you would eat

was the human version of a golden retriever puppy when you tried his new, less-calorie salmon onigiri :) tell him it’s delicious, he’ll love you forever

»»——⍟——««

I hope this was satisfactory! Like I said before, feel free to dm me if you need to talk okay? Also I’ll send some extra comfort your way later <3 mwah take care of yourself!

»»——⍟——««

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu headcanons #miya osamu fluff #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou headcanons #suna headcanons #suna rintarou imagines #suna rintarou fluff #cady writesss «#tw diet #cw diet #tw overexerting #cw overexerting

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

Alliance

Chapter 2 – The Decision

(Mando x f!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: The child taken, his ship destroyed the only one who can help him? A woman he sold into slavery several months earlier.

Notes: Wow wow wow! Thank all for the likes im glad ive gained some interest lets hope I can keep it! Comment or message to be added to the tagged list!

Tw: mentions of dubcon/sex, depictions of violence and coarse language

Tagged list: @crazycookiecrumbles

Word count: 3.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

7 months later

Mandos POV

Using all his wits and a touch of charm the Mandalorian had managed to make his way to a nearby town. Once there he’d likely be able to hitch a ride or win some kind of ship in a game of cards. He didn’t need a good one, just something to get him to Navarro. He makes his way to a more upscale bar, hoping its clients would be more lucrative with their belongings. Scanning the gambling hall he chooses his target carefully, opting for a rich looking idiot who had been trying to impress the man next to him since the Mandalorian had walked in. He takes his seat at the round wooden table amongst a variety of lavishly dressed characters. He had to find the child as soon as possible. If he wasn’t with the empire yet there’s no doubt he would be soon.

“Deal me in” He says, taking a seat between an Iktotchi and an Ortolan.

“Not so fast, what's your buy in?” the dealer asks.

“How about that helmet?” The Ortolan pipes up.

“No.”

“The creature then?” the Falleen across the table ponders reaching out to touch Anya, who had been at his side when Grogu was taken and has refused to leave it since.

“No” he says, batting her hand away and tapping on his shoulder piece “Will this do?” The dealer nods and they begin. In the second hand he ends up winning a ship from his target who was seemingly unbothered by the loss as he nonchalantly tosses Mando the keys, before leaving the table.

Twirling the key on his index finger he makes his way to the bar, hoping to gain some insight on how to go about finding Grogu.

“Quite a game, didn’t know Mandalorians played cards.” The older humanoid bartender stated, shining off a glass. With no response he speaks up again. “Can I help you with something , give me something to tell the kids if I helped out a Mandalorian.”

“If someone was looking to find something lost where would he go?”

“You have any idea what this thing is?”

“Yes.”

“Any idea where it is?”

“No.”

“Tell you what, there was a woman, from a forest planet somewhere on the outer rim. Hair as white as snow, an old language on her body, a face that’s hard to forget. She helped me find my youngest after she was taken by smugglers.”

“Vryssa?” The Mandalorian says slowly, causing Anya to perk up.

“Aye that’s the place. You’ve been?” the barkeep ponders.

“Thank you, here” he says handing over a portion of the credits won in his game of cards to the speechless keeper.

Exiting the bar shaking his head in disbelief, of course the one person who could help him track the kid was someone with a personal vendetta against him. At least he knew who he had to find and where to start looking. Opening the doors to his new ship he gives it a quick once over. It was roomier than the razor crest, but not by much, too fancy for his liking in all honesty. Nicer amenities though and a decent sized bed which Anya had made her way onto, it would be a better place for when he gets the kid back. It had an armoury, but nothing in it, at least not yet. He closes it and makes his way up to the ship's cockpit. Decent enough system, more of a flashy ride than a functional one, made for a decently skilled pilot by the looks of it. Locking in the coordinates for Coruscant he begins his search.

For two weeks he attends black markets around the galaxy until one day he sees him, the man who had bought you. He follows him cornering him in a nearby alleyway.

“What do you want Mando?” The Kel Dor responds.

“I’m looking for a woman.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“She was bought by you a few months ago. Not jogging your memory? White hair, eternal blood.”

“Oh. Her difficult one, had to break her in a bit.” The choice of words was less than favourable to the Mandalorian, but in favor of time he brushed by it.

“What happened to her?”

“ Sold her.”

“ To who?” He says getting impatient

“Gladiatorial ring on Geonosis , she was a big hit, sold her for twice what I had paid, moved into the big arenas quickly. I’ll take you if you want.”

“No, give me the coordinates.” Mando says

“Should be easy enough for you to get her. She's been broken in well, nice and obedient if you know…” He knocks the guy out before he can finish the sentence.

R-16, Geonosis, Outer Rim Territories

Stepping out of the ship it doesn’t take long for him to figure out where you are. Large projections of posters with you line the street, apparently you were fighting today. The sounds of the arena increase as he gets closer, as does the crowd of people awaiting the show.

“A Mandalorian, you here to see the fight? Gonna be a good one. Fan favourite tonight the huntress.” A native geonosian exclaims.

“Is she the girl in the picture? The white haired one?”

“ Yes, and if you like what you see I’m sure a piece of that armour will get you a night with her, I’ve heard the trainer sells her off after fights.” The Mandalorian nods and heads off “How much for a ticket” he ask the seller,

“100 credits”

“For a fight?”

“For today’s fight? Yes.” Begrudgingly he pays the fee and enters into the dome. It is enormous, the revenue it brings in must be astronomical he thinks as he takes his seat.

Your POV

It hadn’t been an easy few months, but you were still alive. The handlers knew if they bled you all at once the value would decrease, and after having you fight and win over the fans, keeping you alive became more economically sound than killing you. Your most recent trainer, an older Duras named San Korliks, had gotten you into a slightly more dubious but very lucrative business. Turns out the rich love nothing more than spending the night with a victor. Between the fights and the suitors you’d have enough saved to live comfortably once you were out. Yes you were close to buying your freedom, 12 fights and a few more rich idiots and you’d be out of here. You’d find a planet with plenty of sand and water and settle down living out the rest of your days in peace. You could hear the crowd cheering from your cell, San would be here for you shortly. You stand up smoothing out the red tunic that had seen better days. It was shorter than you’d like and impractical for fighting, but your handler was right sex sells and it had kept you alive thus far. You move to the drawer of the cell, though tightly watched it was decently large and relatively comfortable. More wins meant better quarters. You pull out the gold plated armour clipping the chest plate, arm bands and shin guards into place before lacing up your worn down brown leather boots. Moving over to the small mirror you dip your hand into a bowl of burgundy paint smearing it down your face and onto your neck then around your well defined biceps. You're admiring your work when you hear a knock on your cell door.

“C’mon darling let’s give them a show” San says, he was nicer than your previous trainers, probably as you were bringing in the big bucks. You walk over to the cell door, he opens it and guides you to the enormous door that would soon open up to the arena.

“Try to let a little blood get spilled tonight, we need to sell some.” You nod, cracking your neck and stretching out your arms. “I also have some suitors lined up, high payers.”

“How many more till I’m out?” you question.

“ Just a few more darling, promise.” He says squeezing your shoulder. You hear the crowd chanting in the background as San leaves. You grab the spear left out for you, tossing it from hand to hand to gage its weight. You bounce up and down on your toes shaking out your body and calming your mind and preparing for whatever they were planning on throwing at you tonight. You repeat the number of days until you're free in your head. You could do this, you’d done it a hundred times now. Not that the killing gets any easier, but in order to survive you had to forgo morality. The doors open and the crowd erupts in applause as you enter waving to the adoring fans.

Mando’s POV

The loud speaker blares out over the crowd “ Tonight a special event, the huntress will take on not one, not two, but four opponents! Now to make it a fair fight, only one will be allowed to challenge at a time, but we have a lovely admixture of beasts and an extra special surprise for you all. The return of another fan favorite. Hang onto your seats folks, this is going to be a night you won’t soon forget” Four versus one, Mando thinks, as he watches you enter the arena, the odds definitely weren’t in your favour. He was prepared to jump in and get you out himself if he had too, you were his only chance at finding the kid after all. He hears a rumble of applause as a door across from you opens revealing a Rancor. He watches you closely, noticing how unphased you seemed by it. In no less than a minute he sees the spear fly from your hand hitting the creature right in its jugular killing it instantly. Not bad, he thinks, but it was just a Rangor, yes they were big, but they weren’t known for being strategic fighters. You pull the spear out of its neck, the crowd cheers seemingly alerting you to the presence of the Nexu that had appeared from the door behind you. It leaps towards you and he watches intently as you tuck and roll out of the way, spear still in hand, thrilling the crowd even more.

He wonders how much of the fight is a performance and how much of it was real. You and the Nexu circle each other, seeing you plant your feet he finds himself curious as to what your next move will be. You kick the dirt up causing the creature to charge again, as it leaps you take a knee lifting the top of the spear up, slicing the creature open causing its guts to fall down on you earning more zealous applause from the arena. He sees you stand up lifting your arms to get the crowd chanting, more showmanship. “What can you tell me about her?” he asks the couple sitting next to him. “Never lost a fight, and she’s beautiful, you need anything else?” They reply. He sees you wiping the creature's guts off your face when a door opens and a Terentatek appears, where the hell did they find one of those things the Mandalorian thinks. He sees your shoulders deflate, more so in annoyance, than fear based on the look on your face. It’s obvious you weren’t expecting a creature so large. After a few dodges and spear swipes the creature has you cornered, he sees you look side to side searching for an out, but there isn’t one, at least none he can see. Its mouth descends on you, seemingly engulfing you whole. The crowd is silent, it’s only then he notices he’s out of his seat. When had that happened? A glimmer suddenly appears from the creature's head as it gets brighter; he sees the spear had sliced through the Terentateks thick hide. The creature collapses and the skin on its head separates as you appear victorious. He sits back down observing you closely as you walk back towards the door from whence you came. The announcer's voice starts up again.

“Now for an extras special treat we’ve brought a fan favourite out of retirement, the demon slayer!” Just then the door opens and a Deveronian in head to toe black armour emerges wasting no time in launching his attack. He throws a dagger which catches you in the arm, the crowd erupts, the sight of your blood enticing them. He watches you intently as you bend over retrieving the knife off the floor and tossing it to the audience. Your opponent’s armour was thick, with very few openings in it. The crowd was getting excited, noticing that you had lost the spear to the Deveronian who had thrown it behind him.

You were the more skilled fighter, but the demon slayer was larger and stronger. He watches you try to make a pass. He thinks you’re in the clear but the opponent grabs you by the hair pulling you back into him as he brandishes another knife bringing it up to your throat. You bite down on his hand giving you just enough time to wrestle the knife from him no doubt slicing your hands open in the process. He doubts that this part of the fight was showmanship, both you and your competitor were evenly matched. It was anyone’s game. Your stunt had given you enough time to retrieve your spear. Just as he thinks you’ve gotten the upper hand he sees a mace extend out from one of the slayer’s sleeves, it sparks with electricity. If it so much as hit you, that would be it. The Mandalorian can feel his heart pounding finding himself wrapped up in the atmosphere of the arena as the creature approaches you swinging the mace. It wraps around your spear, the crowd is silent, they think it's all over, but looking at a nearby screen Mando makes out what appears to be a small smile on your face.

The mace wraps the spear and you pull back on it, hard, drawing the Deveronian in closer. As the electricity hits your arm you release the force from the pulling causing the spear to plunge up in-between the opening between the Devaronians chest plate and helmet killing him instantly. He sees you drop to your knees catching the falling opponent whispering something before laying him down on the floor. The crowd erupts in cheers, flowers and money are thrown to the ground, before picking it up he sees you circle back to each opponent kneeling on the ground for a few seconds before rising and moving on to the next.

“C’mon Mando” the people beside him say “blood auctions this way”. He follows them, but half the auditorium seemingly had the same idea and he was too far back to reach you. He sees you standing with your trainer as the blood spilled during the fight was sold to the highest bidder, the crowd intermittently grabbing at you. You’re quickly shuffled out the room. The Mandalorian exits through a back door, as he does he sees your trainer speaking to a Sephi. He hangs back, close enough to hear the conversation, but far enough away so as not to be noticed.

“Room 801. She’ll be ready for you in a half hour.”

“Perfect, makers, where will I go when she’s free? No one has ever compared to her” the client laughs.

“She’s not leaving, at least not for a while. Far too good for business at the moment. Hope’s what keeps her keen though. I oblige in her fantasies, so she can oblige yours ” The Duro gives the man the key and heads back into the arena. The man exits the alley bumping into the Mandalorian.

“Watch it Mando.” The Sephi says, pushing by him. As he pushes by, Mando snatches the key and makes his way up to room 801.

Your POV

“Hey San, how'd the rest of the auction go?” you ask, wiping off as much slime as you could in the small sink. “Good. I’ve put your cut in the bank for when you’re out. We have a client room 801, penthouse, he knows you apparently.”

“Half the galaxy knows me” you murmur “Do we have to tonight?” you ask, wanting to get out of your gear and go to sleep.

“C’mon he’s rich and not bad looking.”

“Fine” you sigh, not like you had a choice anyways. He chains your hands together and leads you up to the penthouse suite, at least you’d get to sleep in a large bed, maybe get a shower with decent water pressure. He unchains you and ushers you into the room, closing and locking the door behind you. You rub your wrists and crack you back stretching out your arms, you hear a cough. Weird, you think, clients were usually brought up after you’d had time to settle in. “I'm sorry I wasn’t expecting...” you say in your sweetest voice turning around. The tone is quickly dropped. The client was none other than the very person who had landed you in this situation.

“YOU” you shout, not thinking twice before charging at him, slipping a knife out from one of your arm bands and lunging for the Mandalorians neck. He grabs your wrists before they can make contact with him, bending them back causing you to drop the knife on the floor. He tries to restrain you causing you to panic accidentally using the force to throw him back against the wall. He crashed into the wall landing on the floor with a soft thud probably wondering what the hell’s just hit him. His hands quickly shoot up in the air, as you pick up the knife again pointing it at him.

“If you think for one second I’m going to sleep with you, you have another thing coming you stupid tin can, you’re lucky ...” you start but he cuts you off

“That’s not why I’m here.” He says quickly.

“ What?” you say, lowering your knife, but not your guard.

“ I’m here for your help.”

“ YOU want MY help? Makers you’re funny, you know I didn’t know Mandalorians could tell jokes.” you say sitting down on the bed across from him as he cautiously stands up, hands still in the air.

“I’m here to get you out” He offers.

“Why? what do you want from me?” you question

“Your help, the child he was taken I...” he pauses, you feel the sadness emanating off him, but you hold the knife true. “I need to find him before the others do, they’ll kill him.”

“Well should have thought about that before you lost him.” you say snarkily. Standing up you make your way to the door.

“Please, I can get you out of here.” He starts, you turn on your heel.

“Newsflash, I’m making my own way out of here just…”

“ ...a few more fights” he finishes for you. you look at him confused. “There never letting you out of here I heard your trainer he’s not letting you go. Something about being too good for business.” Was he telling you the truth? With the helmet covering his face it was hard to tell. From what your grandmother had told you, Mandalorians rarely lied, and deep down something was telling you to trust him.

“Bastard” you mutter moving away from the door. “Well i'll find my own way out.”

“Please” he says, taking a step towards you, causing you to lift the knife up again. “You wasted your money coming here, leave.”

“I didn’t pay”

“What?” you respond and he looks over to you . “You’re not the client?”

“No” he says dryly, as if the answer was obvious. The tension is cut by a sudden knock at the door.

“Shit, you have to hide” you say dropping the knife and pushing the Mandalorian in the direction of the bed.

“Where should I hide behind a curtain?” he deadpans

“I am not in the mood for jokes right now, get under the bed” you say lifting up the bed skirt.

“No”

“Yes” you say pointing ferociously under the bed.

“No”

“Fine, but you have to go somewhere or we're both screwed.” You say turning around to get the door. As you open it you start “look I can explain.”

“ Explain what?” The Sephi asks, pushing past you taking a seat on the bed. “You’re performance out there was almost as enticing as you” you turn back to close the door looking around the room in an attempt to locate the beskar clad man. “We’ve met before, remember?” he asked, as if you would.

“Hard to forget such a lovely night.” You lie, sitting down next to him realizing you were going to have to talk your way out of this one. “Listen, tonight’s been rough, and I want to be at my peak performance for you, we can reschedule for another night” you say stroking his cheek. The Sephi grabs your wrist, harshly. “ No, I paid for it now so I’ll get it now” . Just then you hear a blaster go off and the guy drops. The Mandalorian appears from behind the curtain

“Seriously.” you say, “I was going to deal with him”

“And I wasn’t going to sit and watch it happen,” he responds re-holstering the blaster.

“They’ll use this to keep me here forever” you say, more sad than angry.

“They were doing that anyway” the modulated voice says. “Come with me” he says reaching his arm out, “now or never”.

Standing up, you push past his hand and walk over to the dead client laying on the floor. Kneeling down you rummage around for his wallet before throwing it to the Mandalorian.

“Let’s get out of here” you say

“Here” he says, taking off his cape and offering it to you. You wrap it around yourself.

“I look like a goddamn Jawa” you say, making note of how long it looks on you.

“Come on before your handaler comes back” he says. The two of you make a swift exit, creeping through the back alleys until you reach his newly acquired ship.

#the mandolarian #mando x you #mando x reader #din dijarin x you #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x reader #din dijarin x reader #Star Wars #star wars #Alliance #Chapter 2

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part eighteen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±7450 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part eighteen: A week later Dean and Y/N are training for the Flagstaff Horse Show, a last repetition for Congress. They are enjoying the honeymoon phase of their relationship, until Bobby calls Dean into his office. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘Little Boy’ - Barns Courtney (scene Singer house), ‘The Farm’ - Thomas Newman. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: I’m excited for this one, y’all! Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish and @winchest09 for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

“More leg, Y/N. Keep rhythm in that circle!” Dean has climbed up on the fence of the large arena. His hands are folded together and his elbows rest on his knees, the heels of his cowboy boots hooked behind the lower bar. He watches a horse and rider in front of him from under his hat, picking up even the tiniest flaw and highlighting what’s done well. As her trainer gives directions, Y/N pushes her calves a little tighter against Meadow’s flank, her right hand outstretched towards the mare’s ears as they finish their circle at speed. Elevated in her stirrups slightly, she makes sure the circle stays perfectly round while maintaining the constant one-two-three beat of hooves drumming against the earth. She can hear Dean’s strong and clear voice above the noise of the wind. “There ya go. Nice one!”

It’s 6.45 AM and the sun has just risen, its early rays of daybreak warming the headwrangler’s back. The nights are getting colder, even in the valley, so the warmth is pleasantly welcome. Summer has come to an end, which means the ranchers are following a different work schedule now. Downside; their midday siestas are no longer a thing, at least not until spring. Upside, they start an hour and a half later in the morning. When he says ‘they’, he means ‘everyone but him and Y/N’, because they have been training for Congress every day.

The perfect final repetition for the big event in Columbus is a local horse show in Flagstaff, coming up this weekend. Gold Canyon ranch is going there with a truckload of horses and both Jo and Dean are competing. The head wrangler convinced Y/N to sign up as well. They can test the new freestyle and see how Meadow does in competition, since it’s been a while since she last showed.

Pleased, he observes the woman who was born to ride. They are ready, no doubt about that. He knows it; the only person who needs to believe it now is Y/N. “Wanna practise a few stops and call it a day? Wouldn’t wanna overwork her,” he suggests when her horse comes past in a slow canter, or a lope. “No spins?” she checks, not confident with leaving such an essential element out of her training. Dean smiles at her eagerness; ever the perfectionist. “I’ve never seen you two screw up a spin. Don’t worry, they are solid,” he reassures.

She nods while looking over her shoulder, then straightens her back, following the movements of her horse. When she reaches the short end of the arena, she steers away from the fence, bringing Meadow onto the straight line out of another perfect circle. Y/N doesn’t get the chance to give aid to pick up momentum, because before they are fully straightened out, her partner speeds up already. “Circle her back. Let her wait,” Dean instructs. The cowgirl tilts her pelvis slightly and sinks deeper in the saddle, before swerving away from the line. She shakes her head disapproving. Come on, Y/N, you can do better than that.

“She keeps taking over,” Y/N ponders, slowing down when approaching her trainer. “She’s a smart horse. Most of the time that works in your favor, sometimes it doesn't. She wants to anticipate instead of letting you do the thinkin’. You don’t wanna discourage her enthusiasm, so what you gotta do is keep her busy. Give her something to do, vary your patterns. Throw her off her game a lil’ bit,” Dean explains to his pupil, who listens intently. “Ride down the line again, but don’t do the usual sliding stop at the end. Don’t speed up, don’t even think about the stop, okay? All you’re gonna do is let her wait for your call.” Y/N nods, feeling a little bit more confident after being given directions. “Okay.”

She moves her reins over Meadow’s mane, turning her around, gently aiding her to hustle forward in an easy canter. When she’s back at the short end of the large pen, the rider lets her horse roll away from the fence and onto the line again. She can feel the power under her, so much energy waiting for a release and ready to bolt. “Steady... Just sit and relax. Let her figure it out,” Dean calls out, loud enough to reach his student’s ears several yards away. A little confused Meadow pulls at the bit slightly, but Y/N does exactly what she’s supposed to do. Instead of punishing the behavior, she ignores it and lopes down the line, repeating the exercise. The second time around, the American Quarter mare already has her ears perked at her rider, waiting for a cue. “Change leads. Try the same thing on the right hand.” Trying to sit loose in the saddle, moving with the thousand pound animal under her, Y/N guides her horse onto the diagonal line and crosses the arena. Normally she would do a flying change in the center, a transition from left to right canter during the brief moment of suspension, almost like the horse is skipping. However, this time the rider decides against it, making Meadow wait until she reaches the other end, where Dean is watching his pupil closely from the fence. “Smart, well done! That’s riding, Yankee,” the head wrangler compliments.

With a smile on her face she continues the exercize, working on her horse’s assertiveness and patience instead of the actual pattern. Dean has a point; she can ride the test blindfolded. Hell, blindfold Meadow too and they would still be able to nail it, but only if the mare is willing to wait and follow her lead. The third time Y/N canters up the simple straight line, the bay mare relaxes, lowering her head a little more and calmly keeping a slow and steady rhythm. It’s exactly the response Dean was hoping for. “Next straight you do the sliding stop,” he says, just loud enough for the rider to hear, as if he’s worried the intelligent horse might pick up on it and understand what he’s saying.

Calm, Meadow turns the corner to the straight line, her breaths even, loose muscles rolling under her damp skin. This time Y/N can give the Quarterhorse an aid before she increases speed, which she does with powerful strides. When the mare is going down the line full throttle, Y/N counts down. Three… two… one…

The rider sinks deep into the leather of her saddle, pushing her stirrups forward and braces for the sudden stop. She can feel Meadow’s hindquarters lower when she plants her hocks into the soil of the arena. They slide several yards, leaving skid marks in the sand, and when the combination has come to a complete halt, Y/N moves her weight slightly to one side and takes the reins with her as well. The eager horse performs a rollback, a movement right after a stop during which the horse turns on her hind quarters and canters forward in the direction they came from. “That was awesome!” Dean exclaims. “Cool her down; she’s done for today.”

Pleased, Y/N lets her precious four legged friend transition to an easy jog, patting her on the shoulder. She feels beyond relieved that her training went so well. With her former trainer Marcel, the final repetition before a show usually meant bootcamp, pushing Meadow to her limits. But Dean treats her differently. He thinks things through, looks beyond the pattern itself and can really pinpoint what they need to work on, and often it’s not the routine itself, but the preparation and the foundation of horse riding.

“She felt really good, huh?” Dean looks up at the rider, seemingly content, as they exit the arena and walk back to the tack up area. “She did. I’m excited for tomorrow,” Y/N returns, halting under the Joshua tree. “Have you seen the starting order?” Dean nods as he glances up at her, narrowing his eyes when the sun peeks under his hat and blinds him. “I have.” “I’m fifth on the list,” the cowgirl mutters, not happy about her draw. “Any good riders in my class?” The head wrangler reads his student carefully, who is clearly fishing for answers. He’s very much aware where this is coming from. It’s a trait of hers, one that used to be much more evident, yet still surfaces every so often, especially in a new situation or uncertain times; she’s insecure.

“Does it matter?” her trainer reminds her. “Eyes on the ball, Yankee. Flagstaff is just a practice run for Congress.” “Sure, but I still want to win,” Y/N counters, matter of factly. “Oh, talking about Congress…” She looks down on Dean, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. “I booked our room.” His brow perks up, staring at his girlfriend for a second. That seductive look in her eyes is giving him all sorts of ideas. “Our room?” “Yeah, most hotels were fully booked, and this room is one of the few I could find,” she adds, teasingly, swinging her leg over the front of her horse, making sure her spur doesn’t hurt Meadow’s neck. “And you know what? There’s only one bed.” “You don’t say,” Dean smirks, stepping closer and running his hand up her denim clad legs slowly. She nods, not dismounting her horse just yet, but taking off her western hat and hanging it on the horn of the saddle. Instead, she seductively keeps her eyes locked on his green ones, the sunlight bringing out a hint of amber in them. “We don’t have to worry about squeaky bunk beds, or waking half the ranch…” “Or Garth taking a piss,” Dean recalls. She laughs, leaning forward now and slipping from the saddle smoothly, but Dean catches her, holding her up.

The cowgirl folds her arms around his neck. “You know, I read this research paper on how sex actually increases dopamines, which results in the athlete performing better.” “Interesting,” Dean is barely able to stop his trademark grin from showing, the effort creating dimples in his cheeks. “Would you like to test that theory?” “I booked us a suite with a queen size bed. What do you think?” she chuckles, so comfortable in his arms. “Well, in that case I’m more than willing to go the extra mile for my favorite student,” he grins, lowering her to the ground, after which he kisses her sweetly.

Meadow turns her ear towards the pair when Y/N’s back brushes against the saddle. She doesn’t take advantage of her owner being distracted and waits patiently, even though she’s not tied up to the pole yet. If the cowgirl didn’t know any better, she’d claim her horse has been their matchmaker all along, casually walking a little closer to Dean’s horse whenever they rode side by side, even taking a liking to the wrangler, despite that she has never been a huge fan of men.

Dean reels the cowgirl in, letting his hand roam over her hips as he deepens the kiss. He can’t get enough of her, especially now that he has surrendered in the battle he was fighting with himself. Ever since he let his guard down and submitted to the feelings that lay deep, the weight he was carrying seems a little less. To have someone to share his life and his passion with, knowing that she’s his and no one else’s, it’s something he never expected to find. It’s certainly not something he feels like he deserves, but he has managed to push that denigrating voice to the back of his mind. They are in love with each other, that’s all he needs right now.

Dean watches Y/N after he parts from her, in awe by the joy that radiates from the girl who has such a hold on him. He has seen her beam before, when she’s amongst the crew, when he makes her laugh. But he hasn’t witnessed this level of bliss and fulfillment yet. She’s glowing, and damn, it looks good on her. Y/N blushes when she notices his captivated stare. “What?” “You look happy,” he comments, leaving a short kiss on her lips again. She smiles, her gaze drifting away as she lets her hands slip from behind his neck down his chest, analysing this contentment that she’s experiencing. She’s somewhat stunned by the conclusion; Dean is right.

“I feel like - like I’m finally at a point in my life where things are coming together,” she realizes. “I spent years of my life in books, riding as much as I could aside from classes, just to get better. I tried to find that ‘click’ with so many horses, fell off, failed...” She huffs, thinking of all the times she almost gave up. Overwhelmed, overworked. School, ride, sleep, repeat. All while Granddad tried to find her the perfect horse. “Then Meadow crossed my path.” She rubs the mare’s withers, earning an appreciative purr as the horse glances over her shoulder. The head wrangler watches the two, the unbreakable bond, the friendship that will last a lifetime. It’s an indescribable feeling to have such a strong connection with an animal, one he knows well.

Turning her attention to her horse, Y/N undoes the leather strap under Meadow’s chin and removes the bridle, replacing it with a halter. Meanwhile, Dean takes her hat off the horn and places it back on her head, earning a chuckle. He then continues to loosen the sinch and removes the saddle, humid clouds of warm air coming from Meadow’s back. “I couldn’t believe it when Grandpa bought her. You should’ve seen me; I went out of my mind,” she says, reminiscing while taking off Meadow’s leg protection. Dean chuckles at that, able to picture it perfectly. Her reaction to qualifying for Congress offers a good indication. Before he turns the faucet on, he hands the hose to Y/N, noticing the smile fading from her face. “But then he died. It took me a while to get back from that,” she admits, glad to have something to do to keep her mind occupied. Often the tears still prick in her eyes when she talks about her grandfather, but today she manages to keep them at bay. Mesmerized, Dean listens. He had guessed before that her granddad had passed away, since she used the past tense whenever she mentioned him. He never pushed her to talk about it, though, knowing that if the roles were reversed, he would appreciate the space too. “You got back up, though,” he says, hoping she can recognize the willpower it took. She nods, smiling faintly as she puts the hose aside. “I figured that after everything that he’s done for me, the least I could do was make him proud. I won State, I graduated a year early and cum laude.” “And then you ended up in this dump,” Dean fills in, trying to lighten the mood. She chuckles at his joke and shakes her head, untying Meadow.

“Actually, ending up in this ‘dump’ is probably the best thing that could’ve happened to me,” she states, leading her horse to her box, Dean in tow. “I’m learning a lot here, and not just about ranch work. It has grounded me. Plus, I met this very handsome cowboy, too.” Dean smirks. “Did ya?” Y/N hums, turning after she shuts the stable door. “Why do you think I can’t stop smiling?”

His eyes bounce between hers, only now realizing that he has a big part in her happiness. It humbles him, knowing that he makes her feel this way. Never before has he stood where he is standing now, in a relationship, let alone in a relationship with this one hell of a woman. Most of the time he has no idea what he’s doing, his gut feeling his only guidance, but apparently he’s doing something right. She has a spring in her step when she walks, her eyes shine when she laughs, and he is the reason.

Wanting to tell her she is his reason too, but not knowing the words to that song, he takes off his western hat to fit under hers and wields his lips to hers. The kiss is less playful than the ones earlier, but all the more meaningful. Her lashes brush against his freckled skin, her hands cup his face, fingertips tracing the stubble on his jaw. The cowboy’s heart grows warm, rising in his chest, the sensation having him light headed. She is everything he never knew he needed, and he’s never going to let her go.

They hear footsteps coming around the corner, but both the wranglers are too occupied to pay attention, until a familiar voice puts an end to their private moment. “Really? Could you not? I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” Jo puts her hands on her small waist and halts when she notices the couple. “This is a lot to muster on an empty stomach, y’know?” Y/N chuckles after breaking away from her boyfriend, Dean rolls his eyes dramatically at his cousin. “Get lost, Jo,” he scolds, ignoring her request. “I’d advise you to get lost, because my dad is hot on my heels,” she returns smartly, before opening the door to the cafeteria, which is situated next to Meadow’s box.

The cowboy’s eyes grow wide as he quickly distances himself from the woman he held in his arms just a mere second ago, before Bobby turns the corner. Awkwardly, Dean fidgets with the brim of his hat as Y/N straightens out her shirt and wipes her hands on her jeans, hoping her tan will hide the blush that heats her cheeks. “Mornin’, Bobby,” Dean greets, trying not to act suspicious. His uncle looks at them now as if he only just noticed them, his weary eyes lingering on the intern for a short second before they focus on Dean. “Can I talk to you in my office?” he asks the head wrangler, even though it sounds more like an order. “S-sure,” Dean stammers, gulping nervously. “I’m getting my coffee first,” the ranch owner announces, before he disappears into the cafeteria. “Meet me there. You can let yourself in.”

Dean takes an apprehensive breath when the door closes, the tight feeling in his chest not so pleasant now. Y/N’s observing him; he can feel her eyes burning in the side of his head. “Why don’t you just tell him?” she sighs. “It’s been over a week.” “I think he might be on to us already,” he says, clearly not at ease with that presumption. “I just wanted to ease him in when he’s not… you know, cranky.” She frowns at that. “It’s Bobby; he’s always cranky. I thought Ellen--” “- Ellen said he was gonna be fine with us being together - yes - but Bobby specifically told me not to mess around with you,” Dean recalls, returning his gaze from the door to Y/N. “Well, I hope what we have going on here is a little bit more than you ‘messing around’ with me,” she returns with a tone. “Of course it is. Hey...” He lifts her chin up with a curled index finger, pleading to look him in the eye. “This, us… It means a hell of a lot to me. Please tell me you know that.” Her expression softens. She couldn’t be mad at him if she tried. “I know. I just wish we wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore,” she admits. “I’ll tell him.” He presses his lips to hers quickly, glancing at the door before he does, making sure they will not get caught. “Save some bacon for me, will ya?” “Will do,” she promises, pushing him off gingerly before she opens the door to join the rest of the crew for breakfast.

He watches her leave, holding on to the sight of her as long as he can. She’s right; he needs to come clean. It doesn’t feel right to go behind Bobby’s back. Plus, with them leaving for Flagstaff this afternoon, he wants to be able to say out loud that he’s spoken for, aware there’s gonna be a few girls who might want to make a move on him. Not by any means is he worried he will not be able to resist the temptation, because as far as he’s concerned, there is none. But he doesn’t want to have to hide their relationship just because his uncle isn’t aware yet.

Dean puts his hat back on as he steps outside into the sun, which is steadily rising in the morning sky. Going over different versions of his announcement, he jogs up the stairs of the house, pulling back the screen door before he steps inside. Out of habit, he kicks his boots off and hangs his Stetson on the coat hanger, like he was taught when he moved in with his aunt and uncle at the age of fourteen.

The house is quiet, Ellen cooking up breakfast for the crew in the cafeteria at the stables. He crosses the living room and strolls into the kitchen, taking a glass from the cabinet and pouring himself some milk from the fridge. This place still has the same homey feel to it, it even smells the same as he remembered. He still knows his way around, even though he hasn’t slept under this roof since he was twenty. At a certain age, he wanted to be amongst the crew, hang with Benny and the other guys, and have a little more freedom. Jo joined them in the bunkhouse a couple of years later when she got rebellious and never really left, even though she still has a room upstairs.

Dean leans against the counter, taking a few gulps of milk. A smile forms on his lips when he notices some of the old photos on the fridge. Ellen always mixes them up, taking them out of albums and putting them in frames, some ending up on the refrigerator or pinned to the board in the office, others are on display in the saloon and in the cafeteria. One of the pictures portrays him on one of the first mustangs he trained, and next to him Jo on her pony, a little fellow called Ghost. He must have been fifteen or sixteen at the time, his cousin not older than ten. There’s another one of him and both Ellen and Bobby at his uncle’s fiftieth birthday; Dean was twenty-one then. The first birthday besides his own where he was allowed to drink, but he has never been a saint. God knows how many times he and Benny and Gabe started the Saturday shift hung over, before he reached the legal age. He grins at the memory.

His eyes glide over the photos, all seemingly normal snapshots, freeze frames of a country boy’s upbringing. But that’s it, isn’t it? It wasn’t normal to Dean. His life made a complete one-eighty when his aunt and uncle took their nephew in. They did it without question, never once asking for anything in return. They reminded him what it’s like to feel safe, loved, what it’s like to be a kid again.

It took him awhile before he could get past the years of worry, fear, and guilt, but eventually he found his way again. Has he forgotten about his childhood, the time he spent with his father and his little brother? Hell, no. He’ll never forget what happened, how the situation escalated and how everyone gave up on family except him, until there was nothing more the loyal son could do to stop the Winchesters from falling apart. But after all the trauma, the lesions on his soul, the nightmares, and endless regret, he found a place he calls home and is surrounded by people who, by blood or by heart, are his family.

The hinges of the screen door squeak and rattle when Bobby enters the house. Just like Dean did moments ago, the old man steps out of his boots, knowing very well that his wife will scold him if she finds dirty footprints on the wooden floors when she returns. He hobbles into the house, noticing his nephew in the kitchen. “Comin’?” he says, nodding at the office, further down the hall.

Dean empties his glass and leaves it in the sink, following his uncle. When he enters the room, he notices the stack of papers on the desk, open folders littering the flat surface. There’s an open filebox on the floor, numbers and letters scribbled in a notebook. Bobby has never been the person to keep his office tidy, especially with all the extra paperwork that comes with not owning a computer, but right now it looks like a bomb went off in here. “Take a seat.” Bobby circles the desk and puts down his coffee mug, closing the blinders to prevent curious eyes from peeking inside.

Dean does as told, a frown edging lines between his brows. The vibe he is picking up isn’t a pleasant one and he’s sensing this talk will not be about his relationship with the intern. Carefully, he reads the ranch owner, who sits down, rests his elbows on the oak desk and forks his calloused hands together. Bobby doesn’t look up at him, and it’s only now that his nephew notices how the circles under his eyes seem a little darker, his head hanging low between his shoulders, which carry so much weight. “We’re taking two of the youngsters to Flagstaff,” Bobby announces. “I need you to decide which ones, so I can send in the information to the auction committee.” “Whoa, what?” Dean says, confused. “I’ve barely haltered a handful. I thought you wanted them under saddle before we sold them?” “There’s no time for that.”

His uncle adjusts the worn baseball cap on his head, still not looking at the young man on the other side of his desk. “What do you mean, there’s no--” Dean stops when Bobby glares at him from under the hat, silencing his nephew with just a look. “Pick the two who you reckon would go for a good price. And I need you to compete two extra horses as well. The palomino stallion, you think you can show him in the four year old class?” “Yeah, I - I guess,” Dean says, realizing that riding five horses in competition is going to be a challenge, especially when it comes to time management, but he doesn’t have the courage to contradict the ranch owner. “Good. I don’t expect them to come home with us,” Bobby acknowledges, picking a folder from the file case next to his desk, flipping through ownership certificates and taking out a file. “I contacted some buyers.” “Which one’s the fifth you want me to bring?” Dean asks, carefully. “Joplin,” Bobby states.

Dean closes his eyes briefly, cursing internally. He knows Y/N has grown fond of the feisty mare; it’s gonna hurt her to see the little dark horse leave. “Joplin ain’t the easiest to ride and I can’t use her for the tourists; she’s the obvious choice. She’s good for ranch work and with the cattle, so I’ll sign her up for the cutting competition.” The ranch owner takes out Joplin’s file as well, adding it to the small stack in front of him. “The intern did some cattle work with her, right?” Dean nods. “Yeah, rode her on the trail too.” “Y/N can ride her then, they seem like a good fit. Discuss it with her, let me know if she wants to,” the old man decides, looking up at his right hand when he stays quiet. “I contacted Jody Mills; she might have some clients for Joplin.” “Bobby, what the hell is going on?”

Dean’s worried eyes study his uncle, an unraveling stare boring through the rancher’s tough armor, who is unable to hold his gaze. The weariness seeps through the cracks when Bobby rubs his forehead, leaning back with a sigh, the old desk chair creaking. “We’re in bad waters, ain’t we?” the wrangler realizes. Bobby still doesn’t look up, but nods quietly, admitting to the painful truth. He seems ashamed, as if he - the head of this family - is failing. The man opposite of him can feel the pressure his uncle is experiencing; he knows it well. Just the sheer thought of the ranch being in much more trouble than he originally anticipated has him anxious, his heart rate picking up. These lands, the company, the horses… could they all be at risk?

“How bad?” he asks firmly, even though he’s not sure if he wants to hear the answer. “I just ordered stable bedding, hay and pellets without havin’ paid for the last bulk. I can’t pay you or the boys by the end of the month, unless we make a profit in Flagstaff,” Bobby admits. “Then there’s the mortgage, bank loans, taxes...” Dean leans his elbow on the armrest of his chair, rubs his temple. “What happened to the money we earned on the livestock you sold Rufus?” “Used it on the electrical bill I was behind on and paid the city and the bank. I owed Caleb a lot of money too.” The wrangler’s eyes flick up at his uncle again. “So it’s all gone?” Bobby nods again. “Yeah, ‘fraid so.”

Troubled, he reaches for his coffee, taking a sip of the hot brew, wishing it was whiskey. From under his cap he watches Dean process the information, the knowledge doing a number on him, even though he acts tough. Bobby knows his nephew. Hell, he’s been living on his land for so long, he considers him a son. He knows how he values this place and the people and animals living here. He knows how much he craved shelter when he stood on the doorstep fifteen years ago. That’s exactly what this place is for him: his safe haven. And now that a storm is coming, now that his world threatens to cave, he’s losing his footing as well.

Dean leaves his chair, paces up and down the small room twice, his arms crossed and pondering on a solution. “You can keep my salary,” Dean says, “I know it’s a drop in the ocean, but I’ve got a roof over my head, that’s all I need. I have some savings too--” “Dean, I don’t want your money,” Bobby makes clear, his voice less stern. “This ain’t your cross to bear.” “Hell, it ain’t!” he exclaims, raising his arms up in despair. “This is my home too, and I’m not about to lose it!” “Do you really believe I’m givin’ it up that easy? It’s my life’s work, damn it!” his uncle raises his voice to level with Dean’s, but tones it down when he continues. “No one is losing their home. We’re just gonna have to save and make money before this spins out of control, stay afloat until business picks up again. That’s why we’re gonna bring more horses to Flagstaff, see if we can make some deals.”

Dean calms down slightly after his outburst, but is nowhere near at ease. He places his hands on his sides now, focusing on the floorboards. After a deep breath he collects himself. “We can take the large Pinto and the red dun Mustang for the auction,” he determines. “Alright,” Bobby writes it down, picking up the phone to make the call. “We’re still leaving at three?” His head wrangler nods, burdened, taking the que and turns towards the door. “Son?” Dean halts in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at the man who has been more like a dad to him than his own father ever was. A few strands of light squeeze through the blinds, illuminating the mess they are in, the rest of the room dark, shadows looming over his uncle. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Ain’t the first recession this ranch survived,” Bobby reminds him, before he dials the number he wrote down earlier.

With a forced smile Dean watches him for a few more seconds before he leaves the office, the mask dropping from his face the moment he’s out of sight. With the unsettling information still mulling over, he puts on his boots again and takes his hat from the hall stand, walking onto the porch. He needs a moment to collect himself and let’s a heavy sigh escape his lungs, his eyes wandering over the scenery before him. Gold Canyon Ranch: sacred ground, their harbor, his church. The barn with the high doors through which he walked countless times, the Joshua tree that has watched over the horses for centuries. The saloon where on a good night laughs roar and beer flows. The bunkhouse, the crooked little prairie shed where he has a room and a bed of his own. And the Singer’s residence, where he knocked on the front door in search of refuge when he was fourteen years of age, standing in the exact same spot where he’s standing now.

The sun hits him when he descends from the steps, the source of light warming the earth rapidly, despite autumn approaching. A faint headache is throbbing behind his eyes already, the conversation getting to him much more than he wants it to. Bobby tried to lessen the blow and reassure his nephew, but he knows very well it’s ten minutes to midnight. He dismisses the possibility of losing everything all over again; he can’t think like that, it will only slow him down. What he can do is think of a way to prevent this train from derailing.

He attempts to leave the worry behind, because he can’t let the rest of the crew know just how grim the situation is. Thankfully, the guys have already started their workday. He can hear the tractor pulling up behind the barn and there’s a wheelbarrow in the stable alley. Garth whistles to a country song on the radio as he empties a box with large scoops, while Jo leads a saddled horse to the arena. A quick glance through the window of the cafeteria tells him Ellen already went to the saloon, probably to start on lunch for the group of eight tourists that are currently accommodating the guest houses, but he does spot Y/N, who’s wiping down the table. When he pushes open the door, a bright smile comes his way, her light burning away the dark clouds hanging over him.

“Hey! I risked my life defending your bacon, but I managed to save you some. Scrambled eggs and two buns too. Want me to heat it up real quick?” she asks, busy putting away the cutlery and dishes she washed. “Nah, that’s alright,” he says, slumping down in the chair where Bobby usually sits. “Here.” She puts the plate down in front of him, the smell of crispy meat filling his nose. He’s not all that hungry anymore, but he starts cutting the bread either way, knowing she made an effort to make sure he had something to eat.

“How did he respond?” she wonders after a moment of silence, drying off the frying pan. Dean was about to take a bite when he freezes, only now realizing what she’s talking about. Shit, with everything going on, it completely slipped his mind why he wanted to talk to Bobby in the first place. Y/N notices the hesitation, followed by a pair of shameful eyes coming her way. She sighs, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Dean…” “I know. I’m sorry.” He squeezes the bridge of his nose while he shuts his eyes, feeling like an idiot. “Something came up. He didn’t call me in because of us.”

The cowboy glances up warely, noticing her disappointment. If anything, he doesn’t want her to think he just forgot, or worse - that he chickened out. But business is blending with personal life here; he’s not sure if he should share with her what his boss just told him. “Why did he call you in then?” she wonders, unable to hide the discontent in her voice. “He, uh - he wants me to take more horses to Flagstaff,” he says. “To sell them.” “Oh…” Y/N puts away the pan in one of the lower cabinets. “Which ones?” “Two of the youngsters we brought in earlier this month. Bon Jovi - the four year old - and...” Dean hesitates, hating to be the bearer of bad news. “And Joplin.”

In shock the cowgirl turns to him, staring at the head wrangler. “Bobby is going to sell Joplin?” “I wish it could’ve been different,” he half apologizes, feeling sorry for Y/N. “I know you like her a lot.” She hangs the dish towel to dry and turns to lean on the back of the chair. Her airway is closing, but she swallows down the lump that builds. Dean is right; she grew fond of the little dark Quarter. Not everyone can handle her fiery spirit, but the cowgirl could, forging a strong bond between them within a short period of time. Somehow, she never expected Joplin to leave the premises. “It’s not your fault,” she says after clearing her throat. “I’m the one who gets attached to horses who aren’t my own.” The wrangler observes her, well aware she’s trying to be professional about this. “Bobby hoped you could show her at the competition,” he continues. “I can do that,” she agrees, keeping her voice steady.

Dean absently eats his bacon and egg sandwich while Y/N tidies up, giving her hands something to do while she processes what he just told her. He watches her rinse a cloth and clean the kitchen counter, rubbing over a spot to make a stain go away. Not sure if he should say anything, he focuses on finishing his plate, but it doesn’t take long before he can’t stand the silence. “You okay?” he checks, concerned. “I guess,” she turns to him, finally taking a second to sit down. “How about you?” Dean wipes his hands down his jeans to get rid of the crumbs sticking to his fingers and looks at her, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m used to horses being sold.” “That’s not what I mean,” Y/N returns, not at all surprised that he acts like there’s nothing going on. “What’s bothering you?”

She reads her boyfriend carefully when he looks at her, dropping his gaze the moment her eyes reach too deep into his soul. For a few short seconds he seems to consider telling her what’s going on, but then he shakes his head. Worry swims in circles in her stomach, his inability to open up once again having her question herself. “It’s not us, I promise,” he says sincerely, reaching for her hand across the table when he notices her doubt. “And I wanna tell you, but I can’t discuss this with anyone other than Bobby or Ellen.” “Business related?” she guesses. When Dean nods, it clicks in her head. “The ranch isn’t doing so well, is it?”

As if he got caught committing a crime, his eyes shoot up to meet hers. Shit, has he said too much? She might be his girlfriend, but she’s also the intern. She works for Bobby, for God’s sake! This isn’t information he’s supposed to share with anyone. Unsure of how to respond, he averts his gaze, but she squeezes his hand to call him back. “Dean, this is kind of my field, remember? I can see the tell-tale signs,” she reminds him.

The head wrangler holds his breath, catching his bottom lip with his teeth, but then exhales burdened, accepting she has figured it out. Self-conscious about his own vulnerability, he runs his thumb over the back of her hand as he stares at nothing in particular, focusing on the motion. Bit by bit, the curtain is pulled back, revealing just how much this newfound knowledge worries him. “Bobby says we’ll figure it out, but things are bad,” he admits after a long silence.

She nods slightly, acknowledging his statement. Honestly, she’s not surprised. She wondered how the ranch was able to run on a handful of tourists and trail rides. With only three horses in paid training, it’s impossible to generate an income that covers the dozen others owned by the family, which can’t be sold for a fair price now that the market is at an all time low. She cannot imagine the mortgage on this enormous place. There’s employees who depend on a salary, animals which need to be fed and cared for, machinery that needs maintenance. Selling stock and letting go workers; they seem like desperate measures to her, measures which will not cut it during the economic crisis this country is currently suffering from, one that might drag on for years. It’s a postponement of execution.

Dean swallows thickly, allowing her to have a glimpse of his crippling concern. He feels weak to admit it, to admit to her that the walls around him are crumbling. But a joke and a laugh cannot save him this time, there is no way he can dance around the fact that he has zero control over the financial situation, and it scares the living hell out of him. “If we lose the ranch, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he confesses. “This place is all I have.” Hell, this place is all that I am, he thinks to himself. Because, let’s face it, when you take away the horses and strip him from the opportunities he’s offered here, he’s nothing but a highschool dropout with an old pick up truck.

“That’s not true,” Y/N dismisses. “You’ve got family, ranch or not. And you have me now.” He carefully glances up at her, taken aback by the comfort in her voice. A pair of soft eyes wait for him, strengthening her words. He mirrors the small smile she’s carrying, eased by her promise. “What if I take a look at the books?” she offers. “If Bobby is okay with that, of course.” “You - You’d do that?” Dean returns, stunned, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah, of course. I mean, don’t expect miracles by any means, but I can shed some light on it. Maybe get an overview of the assets and liabilities, set up a balance sheet if there isn’t one, etcetera,” she states, making it sound like it’s no big deal. “I analyzed several large companies for my thesis.”

Impressed, the head wrangler takes in the young woman who is so wise for her age. He only now realises the intern might be the one who could steer this ship away from the massive iceberg they are heading towards. Of course she can’t magically make money appear out of thin air, but he doubts Bobby has the skill set of someone with a master’s degree in business. “You’re awesome, know that?” he huffs. “Don’t you forget it.” She grins at him, getting up from her seat and taking his plate. Before she can rinse it and reach for the dish brush, Dean’s arms snake around her waist and pull her against his chest, hooking his chin over her shoulder. He kisses her on the cheek, leaning his head against hers and ignoring his western hat when it tilts to the side. “Thank you.” She smiles. “You’re welcome.”

Y/N turns in his arms, trapped between him and the kitchen counter. She looks up to meet his admiring gaze, adjusting the Stetson on the cowboy’s head and letting her hands linger, wrists crossed behind his neck. “I’m beginning to understand just how much the ranch means to you. And frankly, this place is starting to mean a lot to me too,” she admits.

The morning light sheds diagonal beams through the set of four square windows, highlighting her hair and her beautiful smile. Dean drinks her in for a couple of solid seconds, before he dips down and kisses her. How she is able to vanquish his inner panic, just by offering her full support, doesn’t cease to amaze the wrangler. He’s not getting his hopes up, he knows the financial problems are bigger than she can fix with a run-through and a few budget cuts. But she’s trying. She’s doing her part. She’s here to help, not only the ranch, but him as well. And just like that, the future seems a lot less grim than it did a moment ago. They will figure it out and things will be okay, as long as he has her by his side.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part nineteen here

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ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

The Gentle Warmth of Friendship

Summary: Brody and Violet journey with their Pokemon when suddenly they meet someone new.

Word Count: 3353

Read on AO3:

“Are you sure we’re heading in the right direction?” Brody asked as she struggled to balance the PokeNav in her hand while gently holding Cleffa. Ralts walked beside her, calm and collected as it followed its trainer.

“Clef?” The small pokemon looked up at its trainer’s face and saw the worry in her eyes. Brody’s brows furrowed as she studied the map. Prescott shouldn’t be far away from the route they were on.

“I don’t know. Aasim said to stay on route 116 and keep walking until we see a road marker that points towards Prescott,” Violet shuffled the pack on her back. Part of her wanted to take a break for the day and set up camp. But another, bigger part of her wanted to continue on. If the two of them walked on and didn’t stop, they could reach the town by nightfall.

“Okay, well I’m sure we’ll be able to find it,” Brody jogged forward and caught up with her friend. The auburn gave a friendly smile to Violet who offered a small one in return. Cubone walked alongside Violet and kept one hand on its weapon and another on her pant leg. The pokemon had always been extremely attached to Violet ever since the day she had found it after its mother’s passing.

Violet looked down with a smile. “You let me know if you get tired, Cubone, and we can stop,”

The words made Cubone look up with big eyes. “Cu? Cubone!” it cried happily and its grip on Violet’s pant leg tightened. Violet shook her head good-naturedly then turned her sights up ahead. Cubone had a tendency to push itself too hard but that only made things worse for the pokemon. With how tired it got it sometimes couldn’t keep up with Violet. At that point Cubone would start to cry from loneliness, causing a sad melody to vibrate throughout the skull it wore on its head, making it shake.

“Veno!”

The sudden call made Brody and Violet stop to see that Venonat had gotten distracted by rock collecting. The bug type pokemon pitter pattered over and stopped in front of Violet. Its large red eyes looked into hers as it held up the item. “Venonat!”

“For me?” Violet knelt down and gave a soft smile as her pokemon handed over the item before she tucked it away. “Thanks.”

“Nat! Nat!” The pokemon exclaimed happily and did a small dance before it gave Violet a look. Instantly the trainer knew what it wanted and carefully picked up her pokemon. Soon the two trainers were off on the route once more.

“Doesn’t carrying all those rocks become tiring?” Brody looked over at Violet who glanced over her way. Violet moved a bit closer to Brody and brought her voice down to a whisper.

“I don’t keep all of them. My pack gets too fucking heavy so when Venonat is napping I usually place them to the side or give them to some wild pokemon I see if they’re friendly.” Violet’s explanation made Brody chuckle softly. The reaction made Violet frown. “It's not funny.”

“Sorry, no, it's just that's really sweet. You really do love your pokemon, Vi.” Brody smiled softly and Violet looked away.

“Yeah, of course. I’d be a pretty shitty trainer if I didn’t think about my pokemon.”

“Speaking of trainers, I can’t wait to see the others in Prescott,” Brody’s eyes shone with joy and her Ralts moved closer towards her, drawn in by her positive emotions.

“Me too. I bet you’re really excited to see one trainer in particular,” Violet teased her friend who nudged her arm.

“Hey! I’m gonna be happy to see the others too! I haven’t seen Ruby in ages and Minnie will definitely want to challenge me to a pokemon battle when we arrive.” As Brody spoke Cleffa held onto her finger, snuggling it contentedly. “But yeah, I can’t wait to see Mitch either and watch that confident smirk turn dorky as soon as he sees me.”

“Not like your face is any better. You two short circuit around each other.” Violet’s words made Brody grow embarrassed.

“Well, it's not like you and Prisha are any better. You told me you dropped your PokeNav into the curry the last time you two camped together because she surprised you with a hug from behind!” Brody was now the one with the smug, teasing expression on her face while Violet felt overwhelmed.

“Whatever, the Pokenav still worked and besides, it's not as embarrassing as that berry incident,” Violet’s smile returned when she saw that Brody clearly remembered that day.

“Well played, Vi. Anyways, I heard that Prescott has quite the gym leader.” Brody shifted their conversation before rummaging around in her pockets. She offered some berries and other treats to Violet. Violet gave a small thanks before handing some of the treats to her pokemon before munching on a berry herself.

“Yeah, I heard the gym there is tough. The Fairy gym leader is known to kick anyone’s ass that challenges him,”

Brody nodded and was about to add to that when suddenly a patch of grass to her right rustled wildly. Both trainers stopped in their tracks and carefully studied the grass. Violet instinctively moved forward in front of Brody and prepared to defend her friend if need be.

The grass continued to move until suddenly a purple blob pokemon wiggled forward. Its beady little eyes looked at Brody then Violet before it smiled. “Ditto!” It cried happily then noticed Venonat staring at it from the safety of Violet’s arms. WIthout warning the Ditto began to transform and became an exact replica of the bug type pokemon.

“Veno?” Violet’s Venonat looked somewhat scared but squirmed out of Violet’s arms. Cautiously it moved forward and examined the Ditto who now looked exactly like it. Venonat did a few different motions with its claws and they were mirrored with ease. “Nat! Nat!” The pokemon screeched and waddled back frantically, clutching onto Violet’s leg desperately.

“Ditto?” Ditto looked confused as to why that had scared its potential new friend. The Ditto morphed back into its original form and was about to imitate another pokemon to see if it could become friends with it when all of sudden a soft voice called out to it.

“Ditto! There you are!” A trainer ran forward, his dark hair getting in the way of his eyes as he scooped up the Ditto. “I thought I told you, no running off and bugging other trainers,” The trainer scolded his pokemon before looking over at Violet and Brody. “Sorry about my Ditto.”

“It's fine,” Violet mumbled and picked up her Venonat.

“Yeah, your Ditto was just trying to make friends, right?” Brody smiled over at the trainer who nodded slowly.

“Ditto always tries to make new friends, thinks that it will help with my social anxiety,” the trainer explained, gesturing with his hands a lot and causing Ditto to nearly slip out of his arms.

“Well, there was no harm done. I’m Brody and this is Violet,” The auburn trainer gestured to herself then to Violet who gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

“It's nice to meet you. My name is James,” The trainer’s soft voice grew a bit quieter. It had been a while since he had run into trainers that weren’t mad that his Pokemon had bugged them. “Well, I should get-”

“Riolu!” A pokemon cried out protectively and ran forward. Its little paws whacked against the ground before the blue pokemon slid in front of James. Its red eyes dared Brody and Violet to even try to take a step forward.

“Riolu! No!” James placed down Ditto and reached out to stop his Riolu from starting a fight like it usually did. “These are nice trainers. What did I say about fighting?”

“Ri!” The pokemon huffed as it looked back at its trainer. James picked it up, now holding both his pokemon in his arms. Riolu’s eyes soon snapped over at the group once more. Quickly it sensed the auras surrounding the two trainers and their pokemon. Brody had a calm, comforting aura and her Cleffa and Ralts seemed to have a similar aura radiating off of them as well. Riolu looked over and noticed the spooked aurora around Venonat and felt the lonely aura around Cubone although it seemed to be tamer than other Cubones and an undertone of happiness danced within its aura. Lastly Riolu looked over at Violet and noticed her quiet, subtle aura. There was no malice or anger amongst them. The pokemon glanced back at its trainer. Now that Riolu thought about it, James’ aura was unusually calm too. “Ri, Ri,” Riolu grumbled and settled down.

“Thank you,” James hugged his pokemon softly. “Sorry about Riolu. He tends to get overprotective of me,”

“That's okay, just shows that you have a good bond with your pokemon,” Violet’s words made James’ eyes grow large. They had clearly meant a lot to him. He was about to thank her for them but a laugh made all three trainers pause. They looked over to see two grunts strolling forward. Both of them had a menacing aura to them and the look in their eyes made it clear they were looking for trouble.

“Look, Joey, we found some cool pokemon for the boss!” The grunt on the left smiled smugly at his friend.

“Yeah, I bet the boss is gonna give us a promotion. Maybe we can even get to choose one of the next Pokemon in the ring!” Joey’s eyes shone with a twisted joy.

“I don’t know who you are but we don’t want trouble,” Brody spoke up and drew the two grunts’ attention.

“Well, we do and we want your pokemon too!” Joey strode forward but Violet stood in front of the group alongside James’ Riolu who had wiggled out of its trainer’s arms.

“Get your own Pokemon and leave us the hell alone!” Violet growled at the grunts, her eyes burning with warning.

The two grunts shared a look and began to laugh.

“Who’s gonna stop us? Your little bug? Listen, just give us the Cubone, Riolu, Ditto and Ralts and we’ll let you keep your shitty pokemon.” There was cocky confidence in the grunt’s orders. Those words caused three different reactions from the trainers. Violet gritted her teeth and curled her hands into fists while James slowly strode forward, his eyes shimmering coldly. Brody gathered Ditto, Ralts, and Venonat together who Violet had told to go back to her.

“You would try to tear apart pokemon from their trainers? I won’t let you do that.” James’ calm aura had shifted and he was ready to fight if need be.

Heh, you don’t have a choice! We’re taking them by force! Ready, Justin?” Joey smiled over to his friend as he took out his pokeball.

“I’m always ready! We’re gonna show these dumbasses the might of Team Delta!” Justin unclipped his pokeball from his hip and tossed it in the air. The ball flew high before a light hummed from inside it and a pokemon emerged. A Machoke landed on the ground and shook its fist as it looked over at Violet and James. Its left eye was missing and scars littered its body. The sight pained James’ heart. What had happened to this pokemon? Had its trainer done this? Before James could ponder further Joey threw his pokeball and a Skarmory appeared in front of them. It gave a high pitched cry causing Brody, Violet and James to cover their ears. Its metal wings were damaged and its beak was bent. Violet clenched both of her fists. These two didn’t give a shit about any pokemon, even their own.

“Violet, would you help me in this battle?” James looked over with determination. Clearly he was just as upset by the sight before him as Violet was.

“Yeah.” Violet nodded and knelt down in front of her Cubone. “I’m going to need your help.” “Cubone!” The pokemon cried to hype itself up and waved around the bone weapon it wielded.

“Riolu, are you ready?” James asked his pokemon companion who got into a fighting stance.

“Riolu!” The pokemon declared proudly and glared at the Delta grunts.

“Okay then. We challenge you to a pokemon battle!” James yelled as he stood beside Violet.

“Bring it, losers!” Justin laughed then gave the first command. “Machoke, use low kick!”

“Choke!” Machoke roared and charged forward. It used its left leg to stabilize itself before sending a devastating low kick directly at Riolu’s face. Riolu lifted its arms to block the attack and soften the blow as it skidded backwards. Dust and dirt flew through the air; the battle had begun.

“Cubone, use headbutt!” Violet instructed and her pokemon charged forward with its head turned downwards towards Machoke.

“Cu!” the pokemon cried and landed a direct hit but it didn’t seem to do much damage.

“Skarmory, use wing attack!” Joey snapped and the pokemon immediately obeyed. Its sharp wings shone in the light and it flew forward, spinning wildly before its wings slashed out at Cubone. Cubone whimpered in pain and stumbled back. It was a super effective move.

“Cubone!” Violet glared at Joey with fiery hatred in her eyes. “You piece of shit!” Her anger only made Joey’s twisted smile grow. Violet’s jaw tightened; she wouldn’t give up so easily. “Cubone, use headbutt!”

Cubone listened and charged forward, ramming into the Skarmory.

“Heh, you’re so fucking stup-’

“Now! Use Bone rush!” Violet’s words made Joey freeze as Cubone used its bone and harshly hit Skarmory again and again. Skarmory cried out and tried to get away but the Cubone was too close and unusually fast.

“Justin! Help!” Joey yelled but his friend ignored him. He was too busy having fun using Machoke to low kick Riolu again and again.

“I don’t have time for your whiny shit, Joey! I’m busy beating the shit out of this twerp!” His words made James shake with anger.

“Riolu, use quick attack to dodge the next blow!” James cried and Riolu gave a nod. As soon as Machoke tried to use another low kick Riolu used quick attack, zooming underneath the outstretched leg.

“Machoke?” Machoke spun around this way and that to find its opponent.

“Now, use metal claw!” James’ voice rang out and danced around the battlefield as Riolu appeared through its makeshift shield of dust. Its claws shone as it tore at Machoke. Machoke gave a pained sound and tried to retaliate but Riolu slipped into the dusty wind once more. James continued on like this, commanding Riolu to use quick attacks to dodge Machoke’s onslaught before sending in a metal claw attack of its own. Slowly but surely Riolu was chipping away at Machoke’s health until James called out for the finishing blow. “Riolu, use force palm!”

“Ri, Ri!” Riolu dashed forward and appeared in front of Machoke. Getting on its left leg Riolu lifted up its right one slightly and got into a fighting stance. Moving both of its paws back it charged up a devastating attack and sent its right paw forward, crashing into Machoke’s chest.

“Choke?” Machoke stumbled back, frightened that it had lost. It tried to reach out to Justin but folded over and collapsed on the ground.

Justin tsked angrily and held out the pokeball to retrieve the pokemon. “Fucking useless! I’ll just have to steal a better pokemon,” Justin tossed aside the pokeball into a pile of mud nearby then looked over to see how Joey was faring.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!!!!” Joey yelled. “Skarmory! Use fly now!”

Skarmory tried its best to get away as fast as possible but it turned out to be fruitless.

“Cubone, use bonemerang!” Violet’s words made the Delta grunt’s eyes shake with realization.

“Cu, cu!” Cubone lifted up its arm and with a mighty toss threw its bone through the air. The attack connected and hit the Skarmory in mid flight. The pokemon gave another high pitched cry which made Violet and James cover their ears once more before Skarmory fell from the sky. Joey didn’t seem worried at all. In fact, it looked like he was going to let it fall to the ground. Violet and James ran forward at the same time to catch the pokemon, sliding across the ground to save it just in time. They had been able to stop the Skarmory from getting severely harmed even though it would definitely cost them a few bruises over the coming days.

“Argh!” Joey reluctantly held out his pokeball to retrieve Skarmory before he noticed that Justin had discarded his pokemon. Joey thought for a moment and followed suit, tossing aside his pokeball like it was nothing.

“How dare you!” Brody ran forward and carefully fished the two pokeballs out of the mud.

“You two are just selfish assholes!” Violet spat with venom and strode forward with James.

In that moment all of Justin and Joey’s bravery seemed to disappear and they frantically pushed each other out of the way as they tried to escape. They were fighting each other so much that a small pouch slipped out of Justin’s pocket without him even realizing it. “Team Delta won’t forget about this!” Justin yelled angrily then turned and disappeared down the road with Joey.

The three trainers were quiet for a few moments before Violet and James turned their attention to their Pokemon. Violet carefully checked Cubone’s injuries and took out a potion spray. Gently she began to spray the wounds and used some bandages to make sure no infection got into the injuries before they reached Prescott and could visit a PokeCenter. James frantically checked Riolu for injuries before tenderly holding the Pokemon in his arms.

“Thank you, for helping me fight them off,” James smiled softly at Violet.

Violet picked up Cubone who clutched onto her shirt. The blonde trainer looked over at James then glanced away. “It was no big deal. Someone had to stop those assholes,” Violet offered a small smile towards James then turned towards Brody who was sadly looking at the pokeballs which held the discarded Pokemon. “We should see if Prescott has a Pokemon sanctuary.”

Brody glanced up at Violet’s words and nodded. “I don’t know who would abandon their Pokemon like this.”

“Heartless people, that's who. I’ve seen it before,” Violet walked forward and stopped beside Brody. “They’ll be okay.”

That made a gentle smile appear on Brody’s lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Thanks for watching out for Venonat too,” Violet offered a small smile her friend’s way.

“No problem.” Brody’s lips held the same smile until an idea crossed her mind. “Oh, James, would you like to journey with us to Prescott? It could be safer to have others with you in case Team Delta shows up again. Plus, it's always more fun to travel with company,”

James’ eyes grew large at Brody’s offer. He studied her eyes for a moment and saw she was truly genuine. Glancing over, he noticed Violet gave a small nod in agreement and that she was being genuine too. “Alright, I haven’t traveled with others in a while so I may not be the best company,” James readjusted his pack then hurried forward with Ditto and Riolu.

“That's okay. I tend to do the most talking anyway since Violet can get lost in her thoughts and be kinda standoffish, especially with new people. But practice makes perfect so speak up whenever you feel comfortable,” Brody smiled over at James before looking at Violet who was frowning slightly at Brody’s description of her and quickly glanced away.

James was silent, processing the kindness he had been offered while watching as Brody reassured Violet who shrugged her off but seemed to not have taken offense. It was clear these two were close friends and maybe, just maybe they could be his friends too. James looked at the road ahead. It could be wishful thinking but he wanted to believe otherwise. These two definitely made him want to believe.

#twdg #twdg brody #twdg violet #twdg james #twdg moody #twdg privet #brody violet brotp #violet james brotp #fanfic #i want to be the very best au

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cloversweets · 4 years

Text

touch

Your Wooper has run off somewhere in Hulbury, and you're going crazy looking for him. Luckily, a certain especially lovely Gym Leader is there to keep an eye on him.

pairing: nessa x reader

genre: flirty fluff!

a/n: read on ao3! this is a request for a wonderful anon (who requested ‘a small drabble where the reader is visiting Hulbury and her Wooper escapes (again) and they end up running into Nessa who catches the slippery little guy as well as the reader’s heart?’) <3 enjoy!

You have no idea how your Wooper manages to run so fast without any arms. Really, you don’t, but you suppose you’ll have to figure it out quickly so he’ll stop sprinting away from you at any opportunity he gets.

You’d decided to take a day trip to Hulbury with your little Wooper to check out the markets and treat yourself to the calming sea air and a nice walk along the promenade. You’d also made the mistake of mentioning to Wooper that maybe, maybe, you could take some time to check out the Stadium and do some training along Route 5, so you suppose that’s where your ultimate mistake lies. Wooper, usually fairly mellow, had been suspiciously excitable since, and - through especially wishful thinking, you suppose - you’d somehow convinced yourself that it was just his excitement at some nice salty air and perhaps a little vial of nice-smelling incense to carry.

Obviously, you were wrong. You should’ve remembered that your Wooper, as sweet as he may be, has a tendency every now and then to become inexplicably hyper about random things he’s never particularly cared about before. Either way, now you’re chasing him around Hulbury as he aimlessly zooms around town, trying your best to apologise for the havoc caused in his wake. To be fair, nobody seems particularly bothered by the sight of you jogging around cluelessly, but still.

You stop for a breather for a moment, leaning against the metal railings that overlook the ocean and boats surrounding the little port town. You have no idea where he is, and though you know there’s no real reason to panic - realistically, someone will see the little tag around his neck with your name and address and send him home - you’re starting to feel the anxiety well up inside of you.

A pleasant voice coming from behind you interrupts your thoughts. “Excuse me, love?” they say, and you turn to see a fisherwoman smiling at you, her rod hanging over her shoulder. “Sorry, but are you the one looking for the little Wooper?”

Oh, Arceus. Is this what infamy feels like?

“I am!” you say, smiling ruefully. The cool breeze from the ocean blows the wind in your direction, and you feel yourself relaxing a little as it soothes your frazzled nerves. “Do you know where he is? He’s very excitable - I shouldn’t have let him out of his Ball, I think.”

The lady chuckles, patting your arm. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ve all been there.” She turns around to face the direction of the promenade you were so excited to walk down before Wooper went all Free Wailmer. “I’ve heard he’s currently running around near that lighthouse over there - do you see it?” You nod along, and she smiles brightly. “Head towards the Stadium and keep walking right until you get to the stairs. If you get a bit lost, just follow the road.”

“Thank you so much!” you tell her, a little overcome with emotion, but she waves a hand at you, still smiling.

“I’ll hear nothing of it, love,” she tells you. “And you don’t need to worry yourself, alright? I’m sure Nessa will have it under control.”

Nessa? You don’t know much about her, to be fair; what you do know she’s the Gym Leader of Hulbury - but also an especially famous, busy model. You wouldn’t be surprised if some of the staff from the Stadium had come out to get your Wooper under wraps, but Nessa? Hm.

You smile at the fisherwoman regardless. “Thank you again, really,” you tell her, hoisting your bag up your shoulder a little. “You’re so kind. I appreciate it!”

She shakes her head, giving you a little wave as she takes this as her cue to get back to - well, fishing, you’d assume. “My pleasure, hon!”

With that, you head in the opposite direction of her, following the road like she suggested. It’s really not a long trip, but you make it in quiet trepidation. You know the Wooper line can be a bit dangerous - they’re covered in a slimy, sticky protective layer you can’t see until you touch them and realise oh, actually, that really hurts - but that’s not really common knowledge. And though this is home of the Water Gym, it’s also surrounded by saltwater - and the Wooper line aren’t freshwater Pokémon. With your nerves forming a knot in your stomach, you pick up the pace a little. Regardless of what happens, Wooper certainly isn’t getting any incense now.

To your surprise, the calm atmosphere doesn’t change into absolute chaos as you walk past the Stadium and make your way down the stairs to the promenade; it’s still quiet and serene, with distant waves crashing along the shoreline as the only thing working to disturb the peace. You peer around as you reach the bottom of the stairs, but you don’t see anything until a tall, slender figure stands from a bench near the lighthouse.

You take a few nervous steps closer before you realise who it is, and you almost stop dead in your tracks when you realise it’s Nessa herself. Nessa isn’t dressed in the Gym outfit you’ve seen her in before; instead, she’s in a pretty white shirred top and a pair of blue skinny jeans, the black bucket hat on her head doing nothing to stop her long hair from blowing in the wind. With one hand, she holds the bucket hat to her head against the wind, and with the other, she raises a hand to greet you. The gold bracelets on her wrists glint in the light.

You’re so mesmerised by her, it takes a second longer than it maybe should have to notice Wooper leaping off the bench and running over to you so quickly he almost tilts over.

“Oh!” you exclaim as he stands on the tips of his little feet, his tail thwacking the floor excitedly. “Wooper, I can’t believe you would run away like that!”

“I’ve found Water-types always get more excited than they think they will whenever they visit Hulbury,” a smooth voice says, and you look back up to see Nessa strolling towards you. She’s prettier up close. Oh, no.

You clear your throat, managing a smile you think looks normal enough. “I should’ve known better,” you admit. “Wooper can get excited. I mentioned training on Route 5, and he’s been hyper ever since.” It’s a second before realisation hits. “Oh - I hope you didn’t touch him! If you did, we’ll have to wash it off quickly, it-”

Nessa chuckles, crouching a little to look down at Wooper. “He’s got that sticky film on him, I know. Don’t worry.” You sigh in relief. Wooper is already peering up at her in excitement, and he makes a bubbly noise when she smiles at him. Looks like Nessa has the same effect on people and Pokémon. “I suppose you’re just as special as your trainer, hm?” she asks him, and glances up at you with a smile. Your face flushes so hot so quickly, you think you might pass out.

Straightening back up, she reaches out a hand. Reaching out to shake her hand, you notice that her nails are painted a pretty, shiny nude brown, and the jewelled rings on her fingers shine. “Today is my day off, actually,” she says, shaking your hand briskly. Thank Arceus your palms aren’t sweating. “I was gonna take a walk along the seafront to pass the time, but I heard about this mischievous little boy causing havoc around my hometown, hm?”

Wooper, completely unashamed, hops excitedly.

“I suppose it’s a good job that I did,” she continues, watching you with a smile playing at the corners of her lips. If you’re honest, you’re struggling to break eye contact with her; her blue eyes are so lovely, and she’s wearing shimmery eyeshadow that only serves to make her eyes sparkle even brighter. “Otherwise, he might’ve been halfway across to the Isle of Armor right now.”

You laugh, rubbing your arms a little sheepishly. “I’m so sorry for the trouble,” you tell her, finally breaking eye contact to watch Wooper carefully as he toddles off to peer around the pier. “Honestly, we only came to have a look at the markets and maybe have a nice dinner at, um, that really famous restaurant.”

Nessa’s smiling when you meet her eyes again. “Can I be honest with you?”

You nod, and hope she can’t see the tips of your ears from beneath your hair. She’s so gorgeous.

“That restaurant isn’t very good,” she says quietly, leaning in close as though she’s sharing a secret. You feel like a weirdo for noticing how nice she smells - sweet yet musky and a little salty from the sea. “Just because the Chairman used to eat there and sometimes bring Leon doesn’t mean it’s good.”

You raise your eyebrows, and she gives you a wink. She has this way of looking at you that makes you feel like you’re in on something together, and - it feels dangerous, to be honest.

You’re just about to make up an excuse for why you have to catch your train right now immediately before you take the final step and fall in love with her forever when she turns to stand beside you in comfortable silence, joining you in watching Wooper crouching to peer at the ocean crashing into the pier.

“That being said,” she says after a long pause, and you turn to look at her. She’s still watching Wooper, but she still has a look. “I know better places to eat.”

“Oh,” you say, nerves bubbling up inside you. “I’d love a recommendation.”

“How about I show you?”

Your brain blips out of existence for a long second. You can’t even hear the noise of the waves or the cries of the Wingulls from where they’re perched upon the roof of the lighthouse. After a long, long second, it reboots, and you’re almost choking on air to respond.

“I- I- Of course!” you stutter, watching that smile grow on the corner of Nessa’s mouth again. “Only if you’re free, and I’m not interrupting, of course. I know you’re busy, and I’m sure you had plans-”

Nessa turns to you fluidly, giving you a broad smile for the first time. “I have new plans now,” she tells you, and you’re dazzled. Turning her head, she whistles to catch Wooper’s attention. He waddles around and peers at her - he looks just as shocked as you do, and you find yourself giggling at the expression on his face.

“Woopy,” you call, and he glances curiously between you and Nessa. “We’re going to eat. Come on!” He pauses for another moment before bumbling along towards you, the curious look still on his face.

“You suit one another,” Nessa tells you as you begin to walk together, meandering along the promenade. You almost choke on an inhale when you feel her sliding her arm around yours, linking them together loosely. She’s so friendly towards you already that if you weren’t barely managing to keep it together, it would probably go to your head. “I can understand why he’s your partner.”

You turn your head to peer at her quizzically, and she catches your eyes a moment later. “Is that because you’re a Water trainer?” you ask, and she shakes her head with a laugh.

“Not at all,” she tells you. “It’s because you’re both cute.”

You flush so hard from your neck to your scalp that even Nessa hides a giggle against the back of her hand. You don’t even know what to say - ‘So are you’? She obviously knows it, in the best way possible. ‘You’re too kind’? That goes without saying. “Maybe I should let Wooper wreak havoc around here more often,” you offer after a long stretch of silence, and Nessa giggles again.

“I’d like that.”

“You would?” you ask, and Nessa shrugs.

“I mean, let’s get this date out of the way first before we make any more plans,” she tells you, and - date? You won’t question it - you need to start acting like you’re cool at some point, after all, but… a date. Wow. “But yeah. I think I’d like that very much.”

You look away before her smile makes you any dizzier than you already are, and settle your eyes on watching Wooper waddle ahead, enjoying the sea breeze. “I’d like that very much.”

#pokemon #pokemon scenarios #pokemon imagines #nessa x reader #nessa pokemon #nessa imagines #pokemon swsh #swsh #swsh imagines #swsh headcanons #nessa headcanons #nessa scenarios #nessa #fluff #fic

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isthisthingeven0n · 5 years

Text

a day in the life : d.d

brief summary: carly and erin follow you for one of their videos, living a day in your life as a hollywood actress who has recently been involved in the mcu. they see what your days are like, and how they compare to your downtime with david.

word count: 2.2k requested: yes, by an anon - i really love this idea so thank you doll! warnings: literally none

* masterlistin’

“Hey guys, so we’re currently on our way to start filming for today’s video.” Carly starts off, reaching for her Starbucks as Erin drives. “It’s actually nearly 6am and I am dying inside, but to be truthful to her day we gotta do this.”

Erin pulls up to a stoplight, glancing over to the camera with a dead look in her eyes. “If you haven’t read the title, we’re following around our good friend and brilliant actress Y/n today.” Erin claps before she begins to drive again, heading down the lane toward your house hidden away. “We can’t show you anything else yet until we’re in her house, cause privacy and all.” Erin explains and Carly lowers the camera.

As they arrive at your house, the pair walk in to be greeted by your dogs. “Babies!” Carly happily laughs as she sits down amongst your dogs, letting them climb all over her as you run down the stairs, camera in hand.

“Hey, guys.” You call out as you bring them into hugs. “I can see Dexter is happy.” You chuckle as Erin continues to film.

“And as you can see, Y/n is all ready for the gym, at 6am.” Erin heavily sighs, watching as you roll your eyes and step forward.

“It kills me inside too, guys.” You tell them as you whisper to the camera before wandering toward your kitchen. “Do you want a drink before we go?” You ask them as you sit in your kitchen, picking up a bottle of water.

“How about vodka?” Erin jokes, and you chuckle.

“Bottom drawer.” You motion before picking up your keys. “But if you’re driving, stick to water girl.” You say with a smile as you walk with a skip in your step, having looked forward to this day for weeks since it was arranged.

Reaching the gym, you walk up to your personal trainer and give him a high five. “So, this is Pablo, he is the one to thank for these.” You motion to the muscles across your stomach and you flex your arms, unable to take yourself seriously. “But, he is also to blame for my bad moods.”

Pablo nods, “It’s true, I take all the blame if it means she is in the best physical shape she can be for filming.”

Resting your hands on your heart, you sigh contently. “He’s just too good to me.” You give him a side hug, only for him to squeeze you tightly before you make a start. “So, what’ve we got today?” You ask, resting your hands on your hips as you glance to Carly and Erin who already look exhausted.

“Okay, we’ll start with a ten minute warm-up, do some cardio and work toward the ropes. Finish up with some boxing and then thirty minutes on the treadmill.” Pablo explains and you fight back the groan, knowing it’s for your own good.

“What the fuck?” Erin gasps, turning the camera on herself as she struggles to hold her jaw together. “You do this, every day?” She asks and watches as you shrug it off.

“Part of the job.” You tell her, laughing lightly as you pat her shoulder. “If you can’t keep up, I won’t blame you. Just do what you can, Pablo is a nice guy to those who don’t pay him.” You kid and Pablo nods along with you.

As your work out goes on, Carly and Erin collapse down on the gym floor. “I don’t think I can hold the camera up much longer.” Carly groans loudly, both of them are dripping with sweat and panting heavily. “Look, Y/n is still going.” She turns the camera around to watch you, you're still giving it your all despite Pablo pushing you to work harder.

“I don’t get how she does it, but I am in awe of her strength.” Erin comments as she struggles to sit upright. “After this, we’re getting breakfast, and then heading to set for a few hours.”

“Grind never stops!” You call out to them both, letting out a heavy sigh as Pablo tells you to carry on squatting.

“That ass ain’t building itself!” He reminds you. “You wanna fit in that costume, you gotta fill your ass out girl.” He encourages you, helping you laugh through the pain that spreads as your muscles are being worked.

Walking out of the gym, you slip your sunglasses on and walk with ease whilst Carly and Erin stumble behind you. “How she is walking as if she’s just done a quick jog beats me. I am walking like I’ve been fucked like a ragdoll.” Erin groans as she follows you to your car where you wait for them both.

“Dave wants to meet with us, that chill?” You ask them and they simply nod. “He’s got a bit of time between meetings to hang out.” They watch as your smile grows at the thought of having downtime with your boyfriend.

“So, Y/n. Why don’t you tell us how you met David then?” Carly questions as she slips into the backseat whilst Erin sets her camera up on the dashboard as you drive away from the gym, nearing your favourite coffee shop.

You smile to yourself, thinking back to the first time you actually met him. “Well, for those who’re new ‘round here, hi.” You tell the camera with a bright smile. “David and I met when I was doing press for Infinity War. I had a few interviews planned in the same building as he did and we naturally clicked.”

“Not to mention, David freaked the fuck out when he told us you met,” Carly adds, leaning over from the seat behind you. “he couldn’t believe you were actually in his presence or would spare five minutes to talk to him.”

A laugh escapes your lips as you think how different it all seems now. “Gotta say I’m glad he did, I couldn’t imagine things without him in my life.” You think aloud, not realising how sentimental the statement is until you hear them both make a sound of awe.

“Y/n, that’s so sweet.” Erin tells you genuinely and you tuck your hair behind your ear, looking for a distraction.

“Well, he’s my sanity amongst the madness of Hollywood.”

Sitting down for breakfast, Erin lets the camera just run as you curl up next to David and rest your head on his shoulder. Your relationship was pretty lowkey considering you were both pretty big in your professions. When you went official, you knew you didn’t want everyone to obsess over your relationship, that you would remain two separate individuals. But in moments like this, it gave insight to fans how much you clearly adored one another.

The way you would smile up at David and how he’d squeeze you gently, making you laugh. It was evident you were in love, and that you brought out the best in one another as you sat together.

“You got time to visit my trailer?” You lift your head up to look at David as he pulls his cap off, ruffling his hand through his hair before he sighs.

You pull away, knowing that sigh all too well. “I don’t think I can today, babe.” He tells you quietly, leaning down and kissing you softly. “I gotta head back.”

Watching closely, you wave him goodbye as you turn back around, trying to hide your disappointment. “And that is part of the struggle.” You tell both girls truthfully, knowing this is supposed to be an accurate day in your life, not a version that is sugar-coated.

Carly reaches over, taking your hand in hers as she squeezes it lightly as tears briefly pass over your eyes. “Anyway,” You clear your throat as you pick up your coffee and head out of the cafe. “I better get to set. I’m due to film a few action sequences then I’ll just read my lines ‘til it’s dark.” You list everything off that’s still to happen today, and the girls nod along.

“Is every day like this?” Carly questions as they return to your car.

You shrug your shoulders. “Only when I’m filming.” You tell her with a smile. “Endgame is definitely easier than Infinity War was. I guess I can’t say much,” You laugh nervously.

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll make sure this is out once Endgame is.” Erin reassures you and you let out a sigh of relief. “It’ll probably take us that long to edit so it’s fine.”

“Well, I still can’t say much but, what I am in is intense.” You simply state before sealing your lips and throw away the key.

“I mean, I have no idea but okay.” Carly states causing you to chuckle as you pull away and head toward the studio.

“Welcome to my trailer bitches.” You pose in front of it over dramatically. “This is where I crash out, rehearse lines and often end up watching TV with Chris.” You explain, giving them a brief tour.

“Chris as in Evans?” Carly states and you nod nonchalantly.

“Yeah.” You reply with a small smile before collapsing down on your sofa. “I think I’m due in hair and makeup in about five minutes, but make yourselves at home.” You tell them as you rise to your feet. “Unfortunately, this is one part you guys can’t see.”

“Oh come on.” Erin whines and you shake your head.

“Can’t guys, the Russo’s would have my head.” You joke, but secretly you know it’s true. “I’ll be back in about an hour, just chill.”

Walking out of the trailer you head to hair and makeup, leaving Carly and Erin to their own devices. “I still can’t believe this is her life.” Erin says quietly, and Carly nods in agreement as her eyes widen. “This is insane.” She laughs lightly, only to be interrupted by a knock on the trailer door.

“Y/n, someone left you flowers.” They hear a voice call out, and slowly Carly walks to the door and pushes it open. “Oh,” The man stutters, looking to Carly who swallows her tongue back into her mouth.

“Hi.” She speaks softly, “I’m a friend of Y/n’s,” She’s trying to not stare, but it’s bordering impossible not to.

“Chris, I think I’ve heard Y/n talk about you guys.” He says with a smile. “Anyhow, can you give her these when she’s back?” He asks and Carly nervously nods. “Thanks.” He pats her arm before walking off, and Carly looks down at her arm before turning to Erin in a state of shock.

“I think I just met Chris Evans and he gave me flowers. I officially win.”

With a loud yawn, you walk back to your trailer. “Hey guys,” You call out as you close the door behind you, kicking your shoes off as you remain in your costume. “I am exhausted.” You laugh lightly, collapsing down between them as they share a look. “What’d I miss?”

“Well,” Carly sits upright. “Chris Evans brought me flowers. I mean, he brought you flowers that someone left for you.” Carly motions to the bunch of flowers resting on your window ledge.

Uneasily, you rise to your feet and walk over. Buried in the sunflowers is a small letter. Instantly, you recognise the handwriting and smile to yourself.

‘I’m sorry I can’t always be ‘round to keep you going. but I promise there’s more to come. D x’

You hold the note to your chest before slipping it back underneath the flowers. “From anyone we know?” Erin raises an eyebrow to you, watching as you shrug a shoulder, trying to hide your smile.

“Possibly.” You reply coyly before sitting down and shutting your eyes for a while.

“Well guys, we’re going to call it a day as it’s nearly eleven pm and Y/n is still filming.” Erin yawns as they walk out of the filming lot. “I actually had no idea what to expect, but all I can say is wow.” She huffs and Carly nods.

“Yeah, Y/n is a badass and I had no clue this is how much she does on a daily basis when filming.” Carly takes hold of the camera as they reach their Uber. “But I can honestly say my respect for actors has shot up, trying to do their routine is insane.”

“And maintaining relationships outside of the job too.” Erin adds. “I mean, I know you guys don’t see everything we do, but all I can say is that David and Y/n make each other extremely happy.”

“Exactly. Anyway, we’ll get going as we have not stopped since Y/n started.” Carly states as she yawns. “I need to go sleep for three days. But we’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“And that’s a wrap for tonight!” You hear a voice shout and you hold your hands up and dance to yourself alongside Pratt.

“We did it!” He high fives you as you weakly walk out with a few of your cast members, talking about how it went.

“See you tomorrow, Y/n!” You wave a few of them off as you walk up to your trailer and shut the door behind you, only to see someone sat down.

Turning your head, you smile softly as David sits there, holding a bunch of red roses. “Told you I had more coming.” He says with a smile as he stands up and moves toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you close into his chest. “This okay?” He questions as you nod into the crook of his neck.

“This is perfect.”

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

31 Days of Ineffables - “Making an Effort” (Rated T)

Summary: Every morning, Aziraphale sneaks out of bed to go for a run without telling his husband.

One day, Crowley finds out. (1839 words)

Notes: Written for @drawlight’s ‘31 Days of Ineffables’ prompt ‘warmth’. Warning for talk of anxiety and self-esteem/body issues.

Read on AO3.

Slap … slap … slap … slap …

The soles of Aziraphale’s trainers hitting the wet asphalt sound exactly the way he thought they would.

Like the shoes of a fat man hitting concrete.

It’s not that difficult a thing to describe, nothing poetic about it.

He could definitely do with a break, stop into a nearby shop and warm himself up with some cocoa and conversation, but he won’t let himself. He’s committed to this. Committed to changing, to evolving, to becoming something better than he is.

Something better than he sees when he looks in the mirror.

He erases thoughts of warmth and cocoa from his mind and tries to focus on the positives of being out here … jogging … alone … in the early December gloom.

At this hour of the morning, he gets to see the glorious sunrise. It brings him closer to God, bolsters a connection he’s felt lacking as of late.

Though if that’s not entirely his fault, he won’t own up to it.

At three a.m. when he starts his fitness quest, he gets to revel in the peace and quiet that comes from London still abed.

Oh. But that reminds him that his claim to London, his claim to the world, is also still abed and asleep without him.

Crowley.

He’d rather be with Crowley.

He’d rather be in bed with Crowley, warm and toasty, sipping cocoa and watching the grey clouds pave their way across the sky from behind closed windows.

Crowley doesn’t want this.

He doesn’t know about it, but if he did, he wouldn’t want this.

But won’t he be proud of Aziraphale when he sees the change? The looser clothes, the smoother skin, the closer hugs?

Aziraphale doesn’t have to tell Crowley about his plans in order for his husband to benefit from them, so keeping him out of the loop isn’t a bad thing …

… necessarily.

Great.

Now he’s cold and tired and keeping things from his husband.

How can this morning get any better?

“Looking good, angel.”

A wolf-whistle follows those words and Aziraphale’s heart shudders.

That’s how, he guesses.

Serves him right. He could never really keep secrets from Crowley, could he?

If not, Crowley would have never walked down the aisle of that church, hopping like a drunk jack rabbit, and saved Aziraphale from getting blown to bits.

Aziraphale debates running on by, but he knows Crowley will simply miracle himself to the next bench and wait for him there. And if there isn’t a bench, he’ll snap one up.

Aziraphale slows to a stop, panting from the stress exercise takes on his human form.

“You don’t have to make fun of me.”

“Not making fun,” Crowley says, waiting for his angel to give up the stubborn attitude and come sit beside him. “I mean it. You look good. Of course, you always look good to me, particularly when you’re red in the face and working up a sweat. I just wish you’d stay in bed with me and do it proper. It’s colder than fuck out here!”

Aziraphale glances over at his husband curling in on himself and shivering dramatically in the cold – a subtle attempt to get Aziraphale to cave and sit next to him.

Which he does because dramatic or not, he hates seeing his demon shiver, knowing how thoroughly the cold seeps through his skin. With a snap of his fingers, Aziraphale miracles up his own coat and slips it over Crowley’s shoulders, wrapping it around him, frowning when he sees how loosely it bunches on Crowley’s thin form.

“What in the world are you doing out here at this hour of the morning?” Aziraphale asks, as if the answer weren’t ridiculously obvious.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked you first.”

Crowley watches his husband sit flush up against him, their arms touching, but from the expression on his face, he couldn’t be farther away. “Well, if you must know, it’s a sad and pathetic fact that I can no longer sleep without you.”

“Is it now?” Aziraphale says dryly.

“Yes, it is.”

“Sorry about that. But it’s easier to run in the morning.”

So I wouldn’t find out? Crowley thinks with a chuckle to himself. “And why’s that? Because that’s how the humans torture themselves, so you have to do it that way, too?”

“Because there’s less foot traffic,” Aziraphale defends. “Less chance of bumping into other runners.”

Or one runner in particular, Crowley surmises, knowing that Gabriel runs these paths on occasion for no reason Crowley can begin to comprehend.

Correction, he does comprehend it. But if he admits it, he’ll be running up the escalator to Heaven’s offices with all his might to punch himself an Archangel.

“If you’re really concerned with avoiding foot traffic, I could get you a treadmill. Or a stationary bike. Or one of those bizarre floaty contraptions that look like they’re from a sci-fi movie.”

“An elliptical?”

“Yes, an elliptical. Then you could exercise till your heart’s content in the comfort of our flat, and I’d get to sit on the sofa and ogle you all day long from behind.”

Crowley winks.

Aziraphale tuts and rolls his eyes.

“But that’s not the point, is it?” Crowley continues. “Because you’re not actually out here to improve yourself.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Aziraphale grumbles. “You know, sometimes you really are a snake.”

“You’re a supernatural entity, Aziraphale. You don’t have to exercise. Not really. You’re not concerned with your heart and your blood pressure. If you wanted to look fitter, you could snap your fingers and do it. Or I could do it for you so Heaven won’t find out.” Crowley lifts a hand out of his coat cocoon for emphasis. “I’m a demon. Expert at taking things apart. One snap and …” He makes an obscene sucking noise “… instant liposuction.”

“So what am I doing, in your expert opinion?”

“You’re punishing yourself, angel,” Crowley says softly. “And you’re doing it over nothing. Over no one that matters.”

Aziraphale wiggles uncomfortably on the bench. He doesn’t move away, but that distance Crowley felt earlier begins to grow. “H-how would you know?”

“Because I know you. I’ve known you for thousands of years. I know your thoughts, your desires, your heart. And I know that the voice in your head, the one that tells you you’re soft, you’re fat, you’re a pathetic excuse for an angel – that voice doesn’t belong to you. It never has. And it doesn’t belong to me either.”

Aziraphale sniffles, digesting those words while he watches the sun rise higher in the sky, lending light and life and hope to a weary world.

And one weary angel.

“It’s … been there for such a long time,” Aziraphale only half-voices, “and I … I don’t know how to get rid of it.”

“Does waking up at the butt crack of dawn and running the soles out of a pair of shoes till your bum knee aches get rid of it?”

“For a while.”

“Is there a chance that … making love to me gets rid of it?”

Aziraphale swallows. When he answers, his voice shakes. “For a while.”

“Then why don’t we do that instead?”

“Because it’s not an easy thing to admit to.”

“I know that.”

“Really?” Aziraphale scoffs. He steals a quick, angry glance down Crowley’s trim body hiding beneath his bulky coat, but never meets his eyes. “And how’s that?”

“You don’t think I have a few voices in my head, too? They might not be your voices, they may not say the same things, but they’re bastards, I’ll tell you that.”

“How do you get rid of them?”

“By doing the things I love – driving my car, drinking, sleeping. But mostly by hanging out with you.” Crowley threads an arm through the sleeve of Aziraphale’s coat and takes his angel’s hand. “Which is part of the reason why you haven’t been able to get rid of me since the day you left Heaven and I left Hell.”

That remark coaxes a partial smile out of Aziraphale. “I’ve been wondering about that.”

“Well, now you know.” Crowley lifts Aziraphale’s hand to his mouth, kisses across his knuckles one by one. “Listen, if you wanna keep jogging, be my guest. I’ll even help you.”

Aziraphale shoots his husband a comical look. “How?”

“I’ll … I’ll … I’ll chase you all over this damned park! I’ll throw ducks at you …”

“Crowley!”

“I’ll scream that you stole my wallet till the cops come running!”

Aziraphale does his best to look appalled by his husband’s suggestion, but the laughter twitching his lips at the image it paints wins out in the end.

“But only if you’re doing it because you want to do it. Otherwise … what good does it really do you?”

Aziraphale nods. He goes back to staring while he thumbs through his options, but the thought of Crowley throwing ducks and crying out in fake distress lingers so vividly, he’s certain Crowley keeps planting it there.

“I don’t want to jog anymore,” Aziraphale says finally.

“You don’t?” Crowley asks, not even hiding his non-surprise.

“No.”

“Are you, maybe, in the mood for some crepes? I know a great breakfast spot not too far from here.”

“No,” Aziraphale says with the firm resolve of a man triumphing over demons he’s been battling for decades.

But seeing as Aziraphale married his demon, his answer becomes less convincing.

Crowley raises an eyebrow at him. Aziraphale looks resolutely away.

But he smiles, too.

“Yes, I am,” he relents. “But I think I’d like to stay like this for a while, if you don’t mind. Sitting by your side, holding your hand - I want this more.”

Crowley rests his head against his angel’s shoulder. “So do I.”

They sit in silence together and watch the sun climb into the sky.

“This is nice,” Crowley murmurs, closing his eyes to block out the bright and focus instead on the warmth on his face.

“It is,” Aziraphale concurs. Over the thousands of years they’ve spent as friends, and the months they’ve spent as lovers, this is something they’ve had yet to do. They’ve been together in the presence of the sunrise, of course. And the sunset. But sitting together and letting it command their full attention – this is a first.

“You know, maybe I was wrong,” Crowley says.

“How’s that?”

“Maybe we should get up early and do this every morning. Not the running. Just the sunrise.”

“Perhaps. It might be nicer to watch it from the balcony instead.”

“Of course, of course,” Crowley agrees, close to falling asleep. “Much less chance of encountering foot traffic up there.”

“Quite.” Aziraphale breathes in deep, then breathes out deep into the cold, crisp winter air. He should have brought a book. And a Thermos. And a snack. “Can we go get those crepes now?”

“Yup.”

“And after the crepes, can we have sex?”

Crowley grins. “Oh absolutely.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #31 days of ineffables #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #frankie writes

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nekoabiwrites · 4 years

Text

Battle Bonds

Ahhh! It feels so good to be back and writing again! Panto was great fun and I’m kinda missing it but also, I’m so happy to not have to watch the same show 60 times anymore...

Anyway, this fic was inspired by a freaking adorable piece of art by @artistictaurean with Roman and a lil cute Swablu: https://artistictaurean.tumblr.com/post/190329454010/holy-crap-i-actually-finished-something-just-a Mega thanks to them for not only being super talented at making such darn cute art, but also for being chill with me writing this (even tho I was on anon asking but mehhhhhh details)

AU: None Pairing: None Words: 2644 Warnings: Remus and Deceit are in here. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: Thomas has been on a bit of a pokemon kick recently and it has affected his imagination more than he would ever think of...

---

Due to the recent release and information about new titles in the Pokemon franchise, Thomas had been thinking about and playing a lot of the series – much to Logan’s dismay. It had just been something he was doing, not once did Thomas even give a thought to how his gaming habit would affect his sides.

Roman lightly chewed on the end of his pencil as he tried to work out the perspective of the next detail to his sketch. It was rare to have all of the sides in the imagination with him after all, even more so that it was for social reasons rather than important ones. He dropped his head and added detail to the figure of Logan in his artwork, doing everything to capture the bewildered expression that was currently resting on the logical side’s features and the open book in his hands.

The prince couldn’t fault Logan for this, as he could hear the excited squeals of Patton off to his left as he discovered yet another new species that he didn’t realise existed.

“IT’S A PUPPY!” The paternal side yelled, holding Rockruff high above his head in order to show it off to the others. An amused snort and swishing of grass told Roman that Virgil was heading towards Patton to get a closer look at the small animal.

Time passed leisurely as the cycle of Patton finding new species, calling out that he found a new one and then being told which pokemon it was continued to repeat itself, all while Roman continued sketching. Eventually, Patton and Virgil settled down in view of Roman, allowing him to finally add them to his piece. Then there was an odd breeze that ruffled his hair and a weight was added to the top of his head.

Roman dropped his sketchpad and held his arms up, yelping loudly in surprise. He knew deep down it was fruitless to try, but his instinct was to attempt to look up and see what was perched upon his head.

Another Patton squeal had Roman freezing in place. The moral side jogged on up to Roman and coo’d at the creature on his head, “It’s so fluffy and – Oh! – It’s just like a cloud, and its so soft! Virgil, Logan! What’s this one?!”

“If memory serves, it is a swablu, Patton.” Logan approached, flipping the pages. It took seconds for him to find what he was looking for and he began to read aloud, “It is a primary normal type with a secondary flying type that was introduced in the third generation. Its category is the cotton bird pokemon. According to several entries in the pokedex of various games, swablus are very concerned with cleanliness and enjoy perching upon the heads of people.”

“I thought you didn’t care about this stuff?” Virgil asked slyly, gently brushing a finger along the tops of the swablu’s fluffy wings.

Logan flushed slightly and cleared his throat, “I do not recall saying that I didn’t care about it. I was simply attempting to get Thomas to understand that playing such a game for long periods of time is unproductive and-”

“I was just messing with ya, Logan. It’s okay.” Virgil snorted and rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Roman was remaining fairly motionless as the others fawned over the pokemon perched upon his head. After getting confirmation on what pokemon it was, he’d regained his composure, sure that there was little to no threat. The prince reached up to pet the extremely friendly pokemon, feeling the cloud-like wings for the first time while also bringing the attention back down to himself with an exaggerated clearing of his throat. “Not that I mind being surrounded by attention, but my art was almost completed and now you have all moved from your positions. I place the blame upon you all if this turns out absolutely horrendous.” He gestured to the forgotten sketchbook resting in the grass.

Shortly after Roman had begun yet another round of bantering back and forth with Virgil and Logan, Patton saw a new pokemon that excited him, and he ran off. Virgil trailed behind, watching with amusement. Logan eventually moved in the same direction once Patton called for him yet again. Roman was now alone with the creature atop his head.

He summoned a floating mirror before himself and saw the blue bird for the first time. It looked to be starting to dose off, clearly comfortable in its position. The royal reached up again and gently stroked the bird, who seemed pleased with the gentle attention as it chirped in response. “How do you like the name Alto?” Roman asked rhetorically. The swablu perked up and flew in a small circle, just above Roman’s head, before seating itself again and almost nuzzling into the creative side’s hair. “I’ll have to take that as a yes.”

It wasn’t long until the hype died down and Thomas went back to his usual level of enjoyment of the series. This meant that if the sides wanted to keep all the random pokemon, Roman would have had to start working extremely hard to keep them all around. Thankfully, Patton wasn’t going to push his fellow side like that, and they all compromised on only keeping certain pokemon that they’d all become attached to – mostly due to the fact that their attachments would take some of the strain off of the creative side.

Out in the dirt courtyard of the castle located near the entrance to the imagination, Roman had placed a battling area for the pokemon, giving all of them a place to battle in a regulated, enclosed space.

“Servine is unable to battle.” Patton called out, “All three of Deceit’s pokemon have fainted! Roman wins! Yay Roman!” The moral side applauded, causing the Lillipup currently resting in his lap to yap alongside.

Roman laughed heartily, “Of course I won. What were you thinking, putting your grass type out against my superior flying type?” Alto soared over to rest upon Roman’s head, allowing her trainer to give her well earned scritches.

Deceit rolled his eyes, “It was because I have no knowledge of typing and most definitely had nothing to do with the fact I only had one pokemon left and therefore had no other options.” As he spoke, he returned the pokemon to its pokeball

“Now Deceit, be nice…” Patton chastised.

“Apologies.” Deceit sarcastically responded before stalking off to who knew where.

Patton went to say something to Roman, but was cut off by the creative side, “It’s quite alright, Patton. Not even the attitude from a slippery snake can dampen my mood!”

“Well, good! Let’s heal everyone up before the final match!” Patton hopped up from his cross-legged position on the ground and took Roman off to the side. Instead of battling on his own, Patton had taken the role of judge and healer. He found it was far more rewarding to help the fainted and injured pokemon than be the reason why they were hurt in the first place. Due to the fairly decisive victory, Roman’s pokemon took very little time to heal.

“There you go! All better now!” Patton handed the pokeballs back over to Roman, who replaced them back into their places on his belt. The moral side then looked around and bit his lip a little in worry, “I’m sorry, kiddo… but I need to go and find out where Dee went. Are you alright to wait just a little longer?”

“Of course he is!” came a third excited voice, who made both sides jump with his sudden presence and arms over their shoulders.

Roman’s smile fell and he sighed heavily, “I hate to admit this… but, for once, my brother is right… It’s more than fine for you to attend to business, Patton.”

“If you require a moderator, I am free to fulfil that role in Patton’s absence.” Logan cut in.

“Ooo! Yes! Let’s murder both of these birds with the stone!” Remus gleefully clapped his hands and hopped in place, whilst the other sides simply agreed to Logan’s proposition.

The two sides of creativity took a spot at each end of the field, staring each other down; Roman with a hardened glare that aimed to strike fear in his brother, Remus with his signature unhinged grin and twitching fingers hovering just over the balls resting against his side.

“The usual format and rules apply. Three pokemon per user, first to have all three faint is the loser. Are we agreed on this?” Logan called out. Both of the participants nodded. “Let the battle commence!”

Roman tossed out his first ball, summoning his precious swablu onto the field. Both looked as determined as the other. Remus, on the opposite side, released his first pokemon and everyone in attendance immediately grimaced.

“What in the heck is that thing?!” Roman yelled.

“It’s an Arctozolt! Isn’t he just a precious little monster?” Remus coo’d, making kissy faces at the abomination before him.

Logan’s eyes darted between the two for a moment, clearly having knowledge that Roman did not. The prince was going to ask what had the logical side looking as though he was nervous for him but decided against it. Instead, he steeled his resolve.

“Alto, Cotton Guard!”

Using her wings, Alto managed to surround her entire body in layers of almost invisible cotton, using it almost as a shield against anything that would attack her. She then seemed to brace herself, watching the pokemon before her carefully.

“Thundershock!”

Time seemed to stop for a second as Roman heard the command. He hadn’t even considered the fact that Arctozolt had the type advantage, especially since he’d never seen it before. Now that he was helpless to do much other than stare, Roman managed to notice the thunderbolt-like growths on the pokemon’s top half and that it was shivering, which may indicate that it was also partially ice type. His thoughts were cut short as Alto screeched in pain as the electric attack hit her square on.

“Alto!” Roman cried out. He watched as the swablu dropped in the air slightly but managed to catch herself before hitting the floor. He let out a soft sigh of relief, “Shake it off and use Round!”

Alto did just that, physically shaking her body to clear herself of the shock before soaring in circles for a few seconds, ending up heading directly for Arctozolt, hitting it square in the chest. The odd pokemon recoiled slightly after the hit, but still seemed to be feeling alright. The same could not be said for Roman as he saw the smile on his brother’s face grow even larger.

“Arctie, use Avalanche!”

Once again, Roman cursed himself internally. “Alto, avoid as much as you can!” He called out, trying his best to get his beloved swablu to not take as much damage as humanly possible.

It was effective somewhat as Alto did avoid several hits, but it always put her in the path of another part of the attack. Overall, it was a severe hit and Alto’s energy seemed to be waning as she was taking far more effort in order to keep herself in the air. Thankfully, the cotton that surrounded her body did help in staving off some of the damage.

Racking his brain, Roman tried to think of the best way to win the battle that seemed almost completely impossible.

“What’s wrong, brother?” Remus jeered from the opposite side of the field, “Having problems?”

Roman glared harshly at Remus before issuing another command, “Alto, sing!”

Alto responded immediately. She swooped in to hang in the air just a short distance from Arctozolt and began to sing a soft melody, attempting to put the creature to sleep. However, before it could really take effect, Remus called out for Arctozolt to use another move.

“Use Echoed Voice!”

The abomination began to screech loudly, the sound causing most everyone in the surrounding area to cover their ears. Alto drifted backwards, clearly in pain from the hit to her senses, her song being cut short. She began to float downwards towards the ground, looking as though she were about to admit defeat. She turned slightly and was able to notice Roman staring at her, worry coursing through him. Her eyes started to shut as she fell closer and closer to the ground.

“Alto, no!”

Her body touched the ground for a brief second before erupting in a flash of light. Yet again, everyone in attendance flinched and avoided using one of their senses until the light died down.

Remus’ grin dropped completely off of his face as his mouth fell open once he’d caught sight of where Alto had once been.

In place of the small round fluffy-winged bird was a far larger version. Its neck extended upwards, causing her to look far more intimidating as she could look down upon him and its cloud like wings curled around its lower body, looking as though the wings were what made up the creature instead. Just behind, his brother was also as shocked.

“Uh Logan. Information please!”

“Alto evolved into her final stage, that being an Altaria. Her typing has now changed, becoming a primary dragon type with the same secondary flying type as its pre-evolved state.” Logan offered.

“That has to be cheating! That’s his second pokemon now, right?!” Remus pouted, stamping his foot like an angry child.

“Not at all. Evolution is a natural process of the pokemon species as a whole and it cannot be timed, at least in the case of the majority of evolutions. In terms of our ruleset, it is the amount of fainted pokemon that provide us with the final result. As Alto has only evolved and is, in fact, still very much present and aware, it still counts as Roman’s first pokemon.” Logan side-eyed the moustached side as he explained.

Roman was still a little surprised but was more than ready to fight back with his now larger cloud bird. Something in him just knew that Alto had learned something new, so he acted without much thought, “Alto! Dragon Breath!”

Alto reared back as she took in a large breath, physically puffing herself up in preparation. She stared straight ahead at the Arctozolt before letting the blue flames pour from her beak, engulfing the odd creature entirely. Remus also yelped and attempted to shield himself as the edges of the attack came close to reaching his position. The flames dissipated after a moment and Arctozolt seemed to be wobbling back and forth slightly before it fell over and was removed from the competition.

After two more quick battles, Roman was declared the victor of the small tournament and Remus went off to lick his wounds – everyone was sure that wasn’t just a turn of phrase when it came to the intrusive side. Patton returned shortly after the match and was more than a little enamoured with the giant cloud bird. Shortly after, the sides returned to their jobs and things went back to normal.

Later in the evening, Patton headed back into the imagination to call Roman for dinner, since he was nowhere to be found in the regular mindscape.

“Roman? Where are you? Dinner’s ready!” Patton called out into the distance as he wandered around the edge of the castle. He rounded a corner and had to clamp a hand over his mouth in order to muffle a happy squeal.

Alto was sleeping soundly, resting at the base of a tree on the edges of the forest. Curled up in her cloud-like wings was the figure of Roman. Evidently, he’d tired himself out and Alto had offered her soft wings as a base for him to nap. Patton quietly headed back, making a mental note to put Roman’s plate in the fridge for when he woke up.

---

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

General Tag List: @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @didsomeonesayprince @llamaly @justanotherpurplebutterfly @iaminmultiplefandoms @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @louisthewarlock @fangsandrainbows @xxladystarlightxx @sleepyssnail @ao-koshka @notalwaysthevillian @pumpkinminette @doces-e--tuga @coloursintheblur @safesandersides @hogwarts-my-love

#Sanders Sides #Fanfiction #Pokemon #Roman Sanders #Remus Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Deceit Sanders #Thomas Sanders #Creativity Sanders #Anxiety Sanders #Morality Sanders #Logic Sanders

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bi-ologistofthehills · 4 years

Text

Jurassic World + My oc

@mcnicholas1172

Here you go.

My Jurassic World story, just with my oc (canon compliant)

My friend’s oc does appear in here, but she’s not on any social media. Besides, she’s kinda my editor/beta reader...

Emily Grant, daughter of Alan Grant and survivor of Jurassic Park, sat down on her couch with a contented sigh. She took a sip of her coffee and switched on her TV. The local news station was in Spanish, but she wasn’t intending to watch it. The paleontologist simply wanted background noise.

The 32-year-old kicked her feet up on the coffee table and reached for her book, intending to get some reading in before she went to work. Unfortunately, her phone chose that moment to ring. Sighing, she lowered her feet to the ground and answered it.

“Dr. Emily Grant speaking. How may I help you?”

“Dr. Grant, this is Claire Dearing.”

“Claire! Nice to hear from you,” Emily Grant set down the cup of coffee she’d been sipping and switched off her clunky little TV.

“Yes, well, Mr. Masrani has a request that I’d like to pass along. We’re planning a series of public speeches for next week and would like you to give one on Friday.”

“Uh, one moment. Let me check my schedule,” The paleontologist reached across her coffee table and pulled her calendar toward her, flipping it open to the correct day, “What time do you have in mind?”

“Sometime that morning preferably, since we have other speeches later that day.”

Emily frowned, “Can I get back to you later today? I’ve got a couple things I’ve got to sort out.”

“Certainly. You’ll be getting an email about it too, I believe.”

“Thanks Claire.”

“No problem.”

Emily hung up and set her phone down on the table with a sigh. Ever since she’d been hired as a consulting paleontologist for Jurassic World in 2013, she’d been living in her little one bedroom, one-bathroom bungalow on Isla Nublar. Recently, with the sharp increase in the species of dinosaurs on the island, she’d been extra busy.

Her job involved checking up on the dinosaur’s well-being, ensuring they were happy in their environments and ensuring those environments were accurate and met all the needs of the dinosaurs. Supposedly, the park had recently hired paleo-veterinarian to assist her with the first part of her job, but she had yet to meet the man.

With yet another sigh, Emily got off her couch, coffee cup in hand once more, and crossed the living room to her bedroom door. Once inside, she set down her coffee and peeled off the sweater she’d worn to bed the previous night. She swiftly exchanged it for a gray tank top and dark blue flannel, which was probably completely unnecessary, given that it almost always ended up around her waist by the end of the day. A pair of jean shorts, tallish socks, her usual pair of hiking boots and the classic Grant fedora were added to complete her look.

A quick stop in the kitchen to put her coffee in a travel mug and another stop at the coffee table for her phone, calendar and customary messenger bag had her shutting the front door behind her.

Emily swiftly went down her front steps and made a beeline for her jeep, which was a dark green, and park issued.

“Emily!” The paleontologist glanced around, her blue eyes landing on her neighbor, Elizabeth Greene.

“Lizzy! What can I do for you?” Emily tossed her bag on the passenger seat and jammed her mug in the cupholder. Shutting the door, she turned to face her friend of two years. They’d met when Emily had first moved in and though Lizzy had been a bit of a fangirl, the two women had quickly warmed to each other and struck up a friendship.

“Today’s not a paddock day, right?” For the past year, Emily had been dividing her time between the researching at the raptor paddock and working with other dinosaurs. It had been a bit of a struggle to be so near the animals that had traumatized her so much, but Emily had worked around it, and it wasn’t as bad anymore.

“No, I’m on brachiosaur duty today. And I gotta say, the jungle they’ve got there is horrid for walking through.”

Lizzy laughed, “Alright, you’re stopping by tomorrow though right?”

“Of course. I might be a bit late, depending on if my groceries come tomorrow or Wednesday.”

“Sounds good. I’ll let Owen know,” with that, the raptor trainer jogged back across the gravel driveway that they parked their jeeps in and vanished into her bungalow.

Emily hopped into her driver’s seat, turned the key in the ignition and drove off to the brachiosaur paddock.

=================================================

Emily peered over some type of fern, Ellie could likely tell her the exact species, and jotted down yet another thing in her small notepad. The brachiosaurs were recovering from a bout of Bracken Fern Poisoning, and it was her job to check on how they were doing. Emily was then supposed to report her data to the lab for analysis. So far, nearly two thirds of the herd had recovered, and all appeared to be doing well.

She flipped her notepad closed. If she hurried, she’d have time to work her way around to the other side of the herd before noon. And Emily was starving, so lunch break was sounding better and better by the minute. She quickly finished up and started to trek back through the jungle. After a few minutes, she reached the admittance gate and one of the handlers let her through.

“How do they look?” the handler was a middle aged, enthusiastic woman by the name of Mary-Anne. Emily didn’t know her very well, but always found her to be a pleasant woman.

“Wonderful. I can email you my notes once I’ve got them organized,” Emily opened the door of her jeep, which she’d parked nearby, and set her bag and notebook inside.

“That would be lovely! Did you get a chance to all of them?”

“Yes, it looks like some of them are still recovering, but the rest look perfectly healthy. And I didn’t spot any more Bracken Fern.”

“Lovely! Thanks again dear!”

“It’s a pleasure Mary.” Emily hopped into her jeep and headed for Main Street, intent upon getting some lunch and starting the process of organizing her notes into something comprehensible. A short while later, she was parking her jeep in the employee parking and making her way down the street, dodging tourists as she went.

The only benefit of having been only 9 during the horrifying ordeal in 1993 was that hardly anybody recognized Emily as an adult. Most of the world knew her as a small, bandaged and terrified child, hiding from the press behind her father, or clinging to Ellie. And Emily was perfectly happy to keep it that way.

In the next ten minutes, Emily had grabbed a cheeseburger from Dairy Queen and found a secluded, air-conditioned spot to go through her notes. She took a sip of her pop and began transferring her notes to a larger notepad, organizing as she went. In about half an hour, she’d finished her lunch and finished about a third of her notes.

Satisfied for the moment, Emily began packing her stuff up, only to stop when someone called her name. Looking around her eyes finally landed on a young, Hispanic man in a suit jacket and dress pants with tousled black hair and tanned skin.

It took her a moment to realize why he looked familiar, “Sam?”

“I thought I recognized you!”

In college, Emily had done an English project with Sam, and though they’d been friends all through college, they’d fallen out of touch afterwards. Though she’d never admit it to anyone, she might have had a small crush on him.

Smiling, she stood to shake his hand.

He returned the gesture, “What on Earth possessed you to come back here?”

Emily laughed, “A job offer.”

“Well, that’s the same reason I’m here. What job did they rope you into?”

“Consulting paleontologist. I thought you couldn’t decide on your major?”

“Well, I finally did. As of last week, I’m officially a consulting paleo-veterinarian,” he puffed up a little, obviously teasing Emily.

“So you’re the person who’s supposed to be helping me!” She shook her head in mock exasperation, “Much help you’ve been though!”

“I’ll have to get started then. It’s been kind of hard to track you down though.”

“I’m a busy woman. I’ll be at Paddock Ten at about eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Hmmm… eight’s a bit early for me, but I’ll try to make it. What sort of dinosaurs they got at paddock ten?” Sam sat down on the bench.

“Raptors,” Emily resumed her packing.

“What?!” he sat forward, his jaw hanging open in disbelief, “You seriously… I can’t believe you’d work with them after what happened!”

Emily sighed, “It wasn’t easy, but they’ve got this fascinating relationship with their handlers and-”

Sam cut her off, “You couldn’t keep your nose out of it?”

“Well,” Emily laughed, “Yeah, I couldn’t keep my nose out of it.”

Sam was grinning as he said, “Well, I’ll leave you to what looks like a pile of notes. I’ve got to pick up my groceries anyway.”

“Alright. It was nice to see you. Do you still have my number?” Emily wasn’t quite sure what prompted her question.

“Yeah, somewhere in the depths of my contacts. I’ll see you around Grant,” With one final smile, Sam stood up and walked down the hallway. As Emily finished her packing and strode quickly in the opposite direction, she found that she could barely contain her grin.

#jurassic park #jurassic world #jurassic park oc #jurassic world oc #oc #my story #chapter 1

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cinderella1181 · 4 years

Text

Battle Cries Chapter 1

TITLE: Battle Cries

CHAPTER NUMBER: Chapter 1 /?

AUTHOR: Cinderella1181

WHICH Henry/CHARACTER: AU Henry Cavill /Juniper Denholm

GENRE: Romance/Comedy

Previous Chapter: Prologue

FIC SUMMARY: Henry Cavill is the fourth son of the Lord and Lady of St. Helier. He is also now 37 still living at home and has no plans to move out. His father, recently retired, is forcing Henry to live on his own. Set up nicely, by his parents Henry has to find his place in the world and find real love for the first time with a girl he didn’t necessarily think he would even like.

RATING: M (sex, language)

WARNINGS: So lets just say there is a blanket warning for language in this.....

AUTHORS NOTES: Thank you all so much for making my return so awesome! I am so glad to be here and am really feeling this. Leave me the love, I am a comment and reblog whore.

Six Months Later

The bells tinkled over the door of the comic book shop. “Welcome in,” Henry called, hunched over the latest figure that he was painting. “Let me just…”

“You know I don’t pay you to paint WoW figures on the clock,” a voice said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“You’re right, you don’t pay me. Remember? I work here basically for my pull list and first shot at new collectables,” Henry replied, not even looking up from what he was doing. “And I will have you know, this is a War Hammer figure, not a World of Warcraft one. And you own a comic book store.”

“Hen, the fact of the matter is, someone could come in here and steal precious merchandise,” the voice countered.

“Kal, show him why not…” Henry said quietly.

Kal got up and trotted around, jumping on the dark haired man. He laughed. “Okay, fine, I get it. Security system and all.”

Henry looked up at Joey as he scratched the dog, who in turn was trying to lick his face. “Kal lets no person he does not know go without knowing who he is. You know that,” Henry replied. “You’re late, too.”

“Again, my store.” Joey replied and headed further in. “I can be late if I want to be and, besides, Madeleine had her friend over, and they were having me paint bloody signs all morning.” He walked to the back of Dandy Lion Comics to lay his things down. “They are going to some feminist rally or some sort. I don’t know. I tuned out when they started talking about the vagina hats.”

Henry looked at him and shook his head. “Did they put them on?”

“I don’t know, I finally got away,” Joey said, coming to sit on the stool next to him. With Henry sitting on the chair and Joey on the stool they were almost the same height. He shook his head. “I love her, so much, so very much, but if I ever agree to date a feminist again…”

Henry laughed. “Let’s be real, you’ll never be in another relationship. She has you wrapped around her little finger and you know it.”

Joey put his hand on his friend's shoulder. “You know it.” He sighed. “Okay, go take your giant dog with you. I will see you tomorrow night for D and D, right?”

Henry began to clean up his mess and nodded. “You will. Since it’s at my house this month. Please tell me you did not invite Duncan.”

“You know I had to. But I think I made it seem very un-fun.” Joey grinned. “So maybe he won’t clog your loo again?”

Henry put all of the parts away and stood up to his full height. “I hope not. It cost a ridiculous amount of money to get the loo fixed.” He shook his head. “I’ll see you later, man.” He headed towards the front door. “Send my love to Madeleine.”

“I will,” Joey said.

Henry clipped the end of Kal’s leash to his harness and started out the door, walking down the block toward his house.

Henry had spent the last six months learning to live on his own. He had hated every moment of it in the beginning. He hated being alone and not knowing anyone. He had drowned his sorrows in the pub most nights. After a month, the singer from the pub band came up to him, threw an arm around him and told him he was going to be his friend because seeing him sit in the same corner night after night was depressing the fuck out of him.

Little did he know, two days later he would be walking into the comic book shop with him and creating his pull list. Henry smiled at the thought of Joey and how he had met him.

Kal stopped to smell some flowers and hiked his leg to let everyone know he had been there. Henry rolled his eyes and continued to walk on. He finally got to the small mews house that his parents had purchased him. He opened the door, walked in, dropping Kal’s leash and headed up to get his jogging clothes on.

London had been explored by the pounding of his feet on the pavement. He and Kal would go for miles and saw many new sights and places. Some, he had stopped to take in, mostly the parks, and others he had noted and returned later. His parents made sure that he had a comfortable existence and once he had told them he had a job and a friend, they had stopped calling him every day.

He smiled to himself. He now realized that his parents had probably done the best thing they could for him. They had forced him to be independent when they thought that he couldn’t be. He was doing it, and thriving. Even if the circumstances were a little out of the ordinary. He pulled his joggers on, his tank and his trainers. He headed back down the stairs to find Kal sitting at the door, big fluffy tail wagging. “You ready boy? How about Buckingham today?” He took up his leash and headed back out the door, starting his day.

###

Juniper Imogene Denholm stood at the edge of the crowd. She held her sign high, yelling at the top of her lungs. She knew the crowd behind her had some force, but this is what she loved, what she lived for.

Justice.

She looked next to her at Madeleine, who was flipping off the men as they went into the building. “You’re afraid of vaginas!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Juniper put her hand up and high fived her friend.

“Keep your politics out of my pussy!!” Juniper screamed. The crowd behind her cheered. Yes, they were going to make change, she could just feel it. Even more so once the van from the BBC showed up.

Almost immediately, the police showed up. Juniper looked at the officers who were starting to disperse the far end of the crowd. She looked at Madeleine. “Isn’t this typical?” She shook her head. “Want to get arrested?”

Madeleine laughed. “As tempting as that sounds, not today. Come on, let's get going, back to protest another day. I would much rather leave and come back tomorrow and do it all over again.”

Juniper sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” She lowered her sign and she began to calmly walk away with the others, back towards where they had parked the car. “We were just starting to get into the feeling of it all.”

Madeleine smiled. “I know. But remember the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step and tomorrow is another day.” She smiled. “Do you want to come over tomorrow night and have girls night?”

“I can. Where is Joey going to be?” Juniper asked, pulling her hydro-flask from her shoulder bag and opening the lid. “Some comic book thing?”

“It’s Dungeons and Dragons night with the mates.” She smiled. “But they’re at Hen’s house this month, so our flat is open. Could be fun, like a good old fashioned sleepover. I can even send him with a bag and he can crash over there.”

She smiled and took a drink. “I think that is a good idea, but I am working the mid shift at the clinic, so I won’t be around until about seven.”

“That works perfectly,” Madeleine said. “The boys don’t even start playing until half past seven, so Joey will be heading over earlier.” She grinned. “You should come the next time the boys play at the house. It’s quite funny.”

“Funny?” Juniper said. “How can a bunch of men playing a fantasy game be funny?”

“Because at least three of them are still virgins. I wear a low cut top and they just squirm and it’s great fun.” Madeleine smiled. “They are great guys and take the teasing well. But two girls, and especially one they don’t know, my god, I could maybe get them out of my house before two am.”

Juniper laughed, unlocking the car once they were close. “I will think about it.” She opened the door, putting the signs in the back. She pulled her crocheted hat off her head, her brown hair tumbling down. She smiled and ran her hand through it.

“Will you also think about what we spoke of earlier. Let me set you up with Hen,” Madeleine said as she got into the car. “Joey and I have to go to the banquet, and it would be fun to have some people about our own age there.”

“You know I am not looking for anything right now,” Juniper said. “I am still in my healing cycle.”

“I know, just as friends. Nothing more. “ Madeleine smiled. “Just think about it.”

“I will, but I can’t promise.” She slid into the driver's seat. “I am just not sure I am ready to even go out with someone as friends, let alone someone I have never met.”

“I am sure you have seen Hen at the pub. He’s a large dark haired fellow,” Madeleine replied. “He is at the pub most nights with us.”

“Does he stay late?” she asked.

“Well, yes, and I suppose most nights he comes after the first set.” Madeline sighed. “You may not have seen him actually then. I promise you, minus the fact that he looks intimidating, I promise you he is very, very sweet and nothing like Rivers.”

“Let me think. Come on, I hear a soy milk latte calling my name,” Juniper replied as she pulled the car away.

#Fic:Battle Cries #Henry Cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill au #cinderella1181

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