Bonus Scene for @van1shiro
For my good friend, Shiro, who also requested an Adaman as well (in addition to the Lance story).
Little-moments to a confession, where Adaman is treated by the reader, who is a skilled doctor/pokemon healer). Packed with plenty of pining, and an oblivious reader XD.
Tagging: @vanillianbean (you know what? Melli is absolutely fun to write) and @bigguscheesius
Diamond Clan Settlement
You’d only meant to pass through the Diamond Clan Settlement on your way back from treating a mud-splashed Sudowoodo in the Mirelands. A quick check-in, a polite wave, maybe a chat with Arezu before heading to Jubilife Village.
You did not expect to find Adaman sitting on a fallen log, shirt half-off, pressing a cloth to a bleeding cut along his ribs. Leafeon paced beside him anxiously, low, worried, growls vibrating in its throat.
“Adaman?” you gasped, dropping your satchel and kneeling beside him. “What happened?”
His head snapped up with shock,and relief, and something warmer flashing in his teal eyes. “You’re—wait, you’re actually here? Now?”
“Seems so,” you said, already reaching for salves and clean bandages. “And you’re injured.”
“Nothing serious,” he said quickly, a little too quickly. “Just—some wild Stantler startled during a patrol.”
You peeled back the makeshift bandage. He hissed through his teeth.
“Not serious,” you repeated dryly.
He gave you a lopsided, almost sheepish grin. “Okay. Painful. But I’ve had worse.”
You snorted and began treating the wound with deft, practiced hands. He watched you closely. Not your work, but you. Your concentration, your touch, your voice murmuring to calm Leafeon.
His shoulders lowered, tension easing as though your presence alone steadied him.
When you finished, he exhaled slowly. “...Thank you.”
“Of course,” you said. “Anyone would have helped.”
He looked at you for a long moment.
“No,” he said softly. “Not like you.”
You didn’t notice the way he swallowed hard afterward. But Leafeon did.
(Coronet Highlands)
You spotted them before they spotted you. Adaman, looking extremely done with the world, and Melli dramatically lecturing Electrode about “proper etiquette for a Noble of such stature.”
Electrode vibrated in a way that suggested it was desperately trying not to explode out of irritation.
And then you saw the blood seeping through the bandages wrapped too loosely around Adaman’s forearm.
You marched straight over.
“What happened?”
Adaman lit up like the sun the moment he saw you. “You’re here? At the Highlands? Spirits, I must be lucky.”
Melli whipped around, hair flipping with theatrical offense. “Ah—you again. Yes, yes, go on, steal the spotlight from The Great Melli—”
“Lucky?” you echoed Adaman, ignoring the sputtering Melli and already pulling Adaman's arm gently toward you. “You should’ve had this treated an hour ago. You risk infection like this.”
Melli gasped, hands to his chest, affronted. “Excuse you! I was going to treat Lord Adaman myself, as any loyal warden would—!”
“Melli, this was your fault,” Adaman said flatly.
Melli sputtered. “LORD ADAMAN! How can you say—”
Adaman raised his injured arm pointedly. “Your yelling annoyed Lord Electrode and caused him to start rolling wildly, and he ended up rolling into me. So yes, you caused this.”
Electrode hummed in smug agreement.
Melli gaped, as though personally betrayed. “I—! That was motivational guidance for a noble Pokémon! A GREAT WARDEN such as myself—!”
You ignored them both and got to work, unwrapping the disastrously loose bandage. The cut beneath was red and irritated. Not dangerously infected, but absolutely heading in that direction. You cleaned it with a dampened cloth, smoothing away dirt and dried blood, then applied a thin layer of salve that made him hiss softly through his teeth.
“That's cold,” he muttered.
“Good,” you replied. “It means it’s working.”
Only once the salve settled did you rewrap the wound. Adaman winced when you tightened the fresh bandage, breath catching, but he stayed perfectly still for you.
“There,” you said. “That should help with the healing now.”
He smiled at you—soft, pleased, almost dazzled. “Seriously, what are the odds? First at the clan settlement, and now here?”
“Well, you’re lucky I was already out here on a task for Laventon,” you said, putting the bandages and salve back into your bag, “And, some injuries are better treated sooner rather than later. If you ever need help, all you have to do is ask. I’ll come.”
Your words hit Adaman like a thunderbolt, his eyes widening, smile softening into something vulnerable, breath catching in his throat as if you’d said something dangerous and precious all at once.
“You…” He swallowed. “You’d come right away? Just for me?”
Melli stared at Adaman with a sour expression.
“Of course,” you replied, earnestly. “You’re a clan leader. Aaand, it’s kinda my job as a healer/doctor.”
His face fell for the briefest second before he smoothed it over with a strained smile.
Melli groaned loudly into his hands. “Lord Adaman, may I remind you our clan’s own healers are perfectly capable of tending to your wounds! FAR more experienced than some—some wandering outsider with a satchel and a smile!”
“Melli…” Adaman sighed.
“They grew up in our ways!” Melli forged ahead, undeterred. “They understand the body’s delicate properties of time, they know our remedies, and—unlike certain people—THEY don’t materialize out of nowhere every time you scrape your arm!”
Electrode crackled in annoyance, or amusement. It was hard to tell, though it seemed to be picking up more speed as it rolled.
Adaman glanced at the noble pokemon, warily. “Melli. Stop talking.”
Melli huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m simply saying what everyone’s thinking.”
You snorted before tossing a Mountain Balm at the Noble pokemon, packed with its favorite crunchy salt.
The calming effect was immediate.
At first, it made sense. Clan leaders were busy. Injuries happened. Pokémon needed care. But then the summons started coming twice a week. Then three times.
Then one day apart.
You’d prepare for a sprain, only to find him with a faint scratch.
You’d brace for a feverish Pokémon, only to find Leafeon looking perfectly healthy and extremely unimpressed.
One time, he called you out to treat a bruise on his shin.
“Adaman,” you said, pressing a poultice to it, “this is barely visible.”
He flinched anyway. “Still hurts.”
Leafeon snorted.
“Leafeon,” he said warningly, as if scolding a gossiping child.
You raised a brow. “Are you…doing anything differently lately?”
Adaman’s eyes widened, guilty. “No! Just…normal clan duties. Lots of travel. Dangerous conditions.”
Leafeon rolled his eyes, shooting a puff a air through its nose.
But Adan smiled at you every time. Warm. Fond. A little more hopeful each visit.
And you, oblivious, simply thought he was becoming less careful.
Irida, however, did not.
You were treating a Pearl Clan scout while Irida supervised nearby. Afterward, she approached with a thoughtful expression.
“Can I ask you something?” she began.
“Of course.”
She hesitated. “Has Adaman… been calling you often?”
You laughed lightly. “Oh, yes. He’s been getting injured so frequently lately, it’s almost concerning.”
She stared at you, then pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Oh, Sinnohs. You really don’t see it.”
You shot her a look, before returning your attention to her Glaceon.
“See…what?”
“That man is hopelessly in love with you.”
You blinked a few times. “Irida, that’s ridiculous,” you said with a laugh.
“Is it?” she said dryly. “He gets minor injuries on purpose. He calls you for them. His Leafeon complains about it to Glaceon.”
“They—what...?” you laughed dismissively. "You're telling me that your pokemon gossip?"
Irida shot you a dry look before setting her hands on your shoulders. “I find no pleasure in telling you this, but that man fancies you. A lot.”
Your mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
“Oh,” you whispered, heat slowly creeping up your neck. “Ohhh.”
Irida smiled knowingly. “I suggest you talk to him before he tries to sprain his own ankle.”
The next time you arrived at the Diamond Clan Settlement, you were prepared.
What you were not prepared for was:
Adaman sitting on a rock, completely uninjured.
Leafeon beside him, glowering at you like please end this madness.
Adaman trying—badly—to look wounded.
“Oh!” he said too cheerfully. “You’re here—perfect timing! I, uh—hurt my—hand. Or maybe my shoulder? Which do you think looks worse?”
You eyed him suspiciously
“…Neither.”
He froze.
You crossed your arms. “Adaman. Are you getting injured on purpose?”
Adaman spluttered. “Wh—no! No of course not! Why would you think that?"
Leafeon growled and stomped dispprovingly.
"I mean—maybe? I don’t—" he sighed, "Okay, yes...Sometimes.”"
You stepped closer. His bravado faltered.
“You don't have to be injured for me to see you, you know,” you said softly. "You could've just asked me to simply visit."
He stared at you, wide-eyed, breath caught.
“…You would’ve come just for that?”
“Yes. Didn't I tell you before that all you had to do was ask, and I'd come?” you told him, tilting your head. “Though I understand if you needed reason for me to come. I know your clan elders are pretty traditional in their ways and values.”
Adaman chuckled at that, and his shoulders relaxed. His lips parted as something unguarded, vulnerable, crossed his face.
“I wasn't sure,” he murmured. “I thought…I thought you’d see right through me. Or that you wouldn’t want—” He broke off, exhaling shakily. “I just wanted a reason. Any reason. To have you near me.”
Your heart hammered and your mouth went dry.
“Adaman…”
He took your hand gently, his thumb brushing your skin like he’d wanted to do it for months.
“I like you,” he said. No hesitation. No fear. Just truth. “I don’t want excuses anymore. I want you. If you’ll have me.”
You swallowed once, twice, then stepped forward and kissed him.
He stilled for a moment, but then, his hands cupped your face and his lips moved with a pent-up tenderness that made your knees weak. He kissed you like he’d been imagining it every night, like time itself bowed to this moment.
When you finally broke apart, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.
“So…” he murmured, grinning. “Next time I want to see you…I should just ask?”
You laughed softly. “Yes. Please. Preferably with you intact.”
Leafeon rolled his eyes and sighed as if saying, "Finally."
Adaman kissed you again, full of promise.
“Then I’ll ask,” he whispered. “Often.”
