#the third is currently in a (soul sucking) full time and is going to quit and starts college in September

[jackalopetrope]

I'm experiencing The Locked Tomb again, and the Second Reading (or listening in my case, I'm doing audio books this time), is absolutely DELICIOUS. It's like, a whole different book. Littered with details that couldn't possibly be enjoyed without having read the subsequent story beforehand!!

I've had to pause and jot some things down just because they make me feel ways (this is obviously full of spoilers):

In Chapter 6:

1) Aiglamene is teaching Gideon how to wield a rapier and tells her, her hands "Shouldn't be twins, but sisters", that they have different roles, but should be aware and support each other or something. And I was, Tamsyn are you sending me secret messages about the Third?

2) Harrow is speaking to the congregation and Gideon is thinking about how full of shit she is, but then Harrow says something like how no one will ever love the Ninth like she does, that "her heart is interred here", and Gideon is like well actually that bit sounded sincere. Oh boy. It sure is Harrow. Sounds like Ninth Poetic Gothic Nonsense, but in Hindsight, really quite literal. Well done Muir.

3) This one is a little less direct but when Gideon realizes she may never return to the Ninth and thinking that that somehow makes it seem fragile, that by turning her back on it, not looking at it, it might fall apart. Likes she's destroying it... Omg 😰 Just sort of rang like a precursor to how she felt about Harrow "turning her back on her" with the lobotomy y'know?

4) So Harrow and Gideon are getting on to the shuttle to Canaan and tension is high, they are not happy with each other and Harrow says "I want to watch you die", and Gideon, just super hyped to finally be escaping, smugly saying "Well you won't do it here." (Here being the ninth) 😭 Tamsynnn

Chapter 9:

When Ianthe catches Gideon hiding in dark, listening in on the third, she refers to "the necromancer of the third house", necromancer SINGULAR. Nice little drop there.

Chapter 14:

Harrow says "I'm not equipped to deal with a spirit attached to a live nervous system, you're so noisy!", implying Harrow is equipped to deal with spirits NOT attached to live nervous systems, like say, a bunch of dead kids haunting you???

Chapter 15:

Harrow says "She never liked that cursed thing anyway" in regards to Gideons longsword, said she always felt it was "judging her". Which is a weird thing to say about a sword Harrow

Also my current crazy theories that may debunked during this book or the next two because I don't remember all the lore:

1) Teacher is John? The colorful belts and the bracelets mentioned on Ianthe and Kiriona are like... Control belts or something. John needed a way to "be" on that planet without going to the system. John got hyper paranoid after all his Lyctors betrayed him, and wanted security measures on his Princes?? Like clearly he isn't aware of what they doing all the time, but maybe he can, remote in? Idk. Crazy theory.

2) Cytherea is the only reason Gideon made it through the aversion trial. Or Harrow rather, because I'm not convinced Gideons body didn't die. (Or do her escape death trick). During that sequence Gideon starts throwing up blood and seems like it's going to end very quickly then Dulcinea is like No! And the blood dries up, and the soul sucking pain is described as moving around Gideons body... I don't think Harrow would be experienced enough to adjust her siphoning like that. Also Dulcinea was clearly very intent on that key. At first I thought in half memory of the scene that maybe she was just interested in seeing if Gideon COULD survive the trial. But I don't think she cared who got her that key really.

Idk! I'm only on Chapter 20 of Gideon. I've gone completely nuts about these books.

[newronantic]

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official 

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

[owlswritingcafe]

Mango Yogurt Bingsu (Summertime Saddness Collab)

Warnings: MINORS AND AGELESS DNI. TIMESKIP KENMA IS USED IN THE FIC, HE IS 25 AND NOT IN HIGH SCHOOL.

Reader: Gender Neutral + AFAB Switch Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Genre: Smut, Oneshot

Content Warning + Trigger Warnings: Slight neglect (at the start), Daddy kink, exactly one (1) spank, unprotected sex, Oral sex (male receiving) while playing video games, public sex (but empty beach), cowgirl position, reader is called baby, Character might be too ooc

Summary: His face was practically a centimeter away from the screen, you were more surprised the man didn’t need any glasses because of the way he plays. Or maybe he does and has been in denial for a couple years. Either way, his eyes should be on you right now, not that damn game. Currently, you two were under the beach umbrella. The familiar voice of a certain Italian plumber accompanied by the Delfino Plaza music snuck into your ears.

Are you serious right now?

This is my Kenma contribute to the “Summertime Saddness” Collab hosted by @mitsuyaa​ ! The Souya/Angry fic will be posted soon after! I am honored to be a part of this collab!

After copious amounts of begging, you managed to convince your lazy boyfriend to come with you to the beach. The only condition being you driving there instead of him and honestly you would have done anything to go to the beach at the time.

You got the idea when you dropped off his usual snacks during his stream and saw his character on the beach. Even though it was all polygons and code on screen, it really did make you wish you were there too. After your boyfriend’s stream, you asked him if he wanted to go to the beach and not just virtually. 

He said ‘no’. 

But, that didn’t stop you from begging and bothering him for the next couple days until he finally caved in. He can only resist your big doe eyes for so long. Soon after, you bought yourself the cutest swimsuit you could find. You couldn’t wait to show Kenma and surprise him once you’re there, and while you were at it, you could collect some seashells and rocks. You could barely sleep a wink last night, you were too excited! 

After all, it’s been quite a while since the two of you have been on a date. Alone at least. Yeah, you two going to conventions together would technically count as a date. But you’ve been wanting to go somewhere where it’s really just the two of you. Plus, you hated when the larger groups of people asked for a picture with your boyfriend. Yeah, it’s expected but it doesn’t make you any less annoyed when it happens.

Driving by the (surprisingly empty) beach side, the sight of it all only made you more ecstatic. You two could gather shells together, get something sweet to share, or maybe you two can go for a little swim (it is a beach after all).

But the biggest thing that’s stopping you right now… 

Is your boyfriend with his nose deep in his switch. 

His face was practically a centimeter away from the screen, you were more surprised the man didn’t need any glasses because of the way he plays. Or maybe he does and has been in denial for a couple years. Either way, his eyes should be on you right now, not that damn game. Currently, you two were under the beach umbrella. 

The familiar voice of a certain italian plumber accompanied by the Delfino Plaza music snuck into your ears. 

…

Is he being serious right now?

He is literally playing a summer beachy game while at the beach. Not only that, but he hasn’t spared you even a single glance since you two got out of the car. You had to hold his arm and guide him so he didn’t get hit by a car or something on the way from the parking lot.

“So, uh, did you wanna take a dip in the water or somethin’, kit kat?” Kenma only gave you a dismissive noise, way too focused on his game to properly answer you. 

God, this was irritating you too much.

Since you’re here, you can at least get one thing off this trip’s to-do list and collect some seashells. 

Coming back, you’ve managed to find quite the haul of pretty things (while also making sure none of them was something’s home). Plus, it’s been an hour, Kenma might be done playing his switch and is ready to join you!

Maybe.

… 

Okay, very unlikely. But, you’d never know! There could even be the smallest chance your boyfriend finally isn’t looking at his game and-

He is still playing the game.

The same game at that. Is he mocking you at this point? 

Judging by the music coming from the handheld game, he’s on one of the jet pack-less stages and the increasingly irritated expression on his face means he’s been on that stage for a while. You put the pile of shells and rocks to the side, next to the large beach towel so it won’t be in the way

“Hey, kit-kat, do you wanna go in the water now? Or maybe we can grab something sweet?” Like before, you only got a dismissive grunt in response. Albeit, a bit more grumpy sounding. You pouted, this trip was supposed to be just the two of you and now you’re a third wheel to that damn game. You can’t fully blame him when it’s at a party or something (you’ve done that before after all) but it’s just the two of you, he could at least take a break for a few hours just to spend with you!

Suddenly, the most perfect idea popped into your head. Luckily for the two of you, the beach was almost empty and you two were basically secluded from everyone. The last thing you want is for the police to arrest you two on your date for indecency… 

Kenma let out a little squeak as he felt you pull down his swim trunks. For the first time since the car ride, he looked away from the game to look at what you were doing.

“Hey, wait a sec-” You cut your boyfriend off by placing a finger in his lips to shut him up and give him the most irritating smile he’s ever seen on you.

“Ken-ken, let’s play a game. If you win this stage and hold back then you can keep playing that game, but if you cum or get a game over, you need to put that away for the rest of the day ‘till we’re back home, kay?” Kenma gave you a puffed up pout in response to your sweet tone.

“Dummy, I can’t concentrate on anything, let alone the game!” 

It wasn’t a question. 

It was a command.

Your fake smile quickly disappeared. Only a blank expression was left on your face that practically tore into his soul. Honestly, that expression was worse than if you were just yelling at him. It’s been quite a while since you’ve gotten this irritated with him that he’s forgotten who was actually in charge in the relationship.

Kenma gulped as he restarted the stage. This was his last life. He managed to get enough just before it, but this damn stage ate through them all like it was a snack! The man shivered as he felt the air touch his dick. When was the last time he actually jacked off? He’s been with you so long that he doesn’t really do that anymore. Plus, he isn’t some hormonal teen anymore, so getting horny wasn’t something he felt often. 

Well, not as often as before.

You didn’t really prepare much for this aspect of the trip, but it should be fine. You spat a hefty amount of spit onto your hand and started to gently but firmly grasp Kenma’s cock. Right now, you’re gunna focus on getting your boyfriend hard.

Unfortunately for him, that’s not going to be difficult for you. The stage just started and he’s already at full attention with just a few pumps. He doesn’t have the longest dick compared to the other boys but the girth sure as hell makes up for it. Kenma was doing his best to not just close his eyes and relish the feeling of your hand on his dick. God, has it been that long since the last time you two have done it? Looks like he’s as sensitive as his younger self, it’s like the first time you two have done the deed again. 

A gasp fell from his lips as he felt the warmth of your mouth surrounding his cock. It was so wet and warm around him, he almost fell off a platform in the game. That was a close one… A second later and he would have gotten a game over. The lewd sounds you made along with the wet noises that accompanied you almost made him cum on the spot though… 

Kenma can just barely make out the way you were slowly bobbing your head up and down his cock, the switch was covering most of the view for him. He would love to put it down, but knowing you, you would add another rule that he can’t watch you and force him to look at only the game. 

Kenma continued through the game slowly, trying to be as cautious as possible through the stage. Honestly, he looked even more focused than any of his streams, you were worried he was going to pop a blood vessel. Or even bite his lips too hard since he’s been biting it after trying to hide that first gasp. You bobbed your head a bit faster, you could already tell he was getting closer. Kenma started to breathe faster as your pace quickened. At this rate he was going to cum soon!

In the midst of the chaos, a familiar white and green mushroom caught his eye.

Yeah! You never said how many chances he had, only if he got a game over or cums then he loses. Unfortunately for him, it requires a bit of maneuvering. If he jumps just right, he might be able to get through this.

Sike.

Kenma forgot how good you were on your end of the deal. The moment you made a little hum in your throat while sucking him off, he almost fell off the damn stage trying to get the 1-up. He’s better off not taking any detours if he wanted to actually win this game. He can practically feel the sadistic smirk you gave, you could tell by watching him that he couldn’t get something he needed.

But, he just needs to push through a bit longer. Just a few more platforms then he’ll finally beat this damn stage! 

He was so close to beating it. 

He was almost to the final platform to get that sunsprite, just then you started to suck his sensitive tip as your wet hand moved up and down the rest of his shaft. Your boyfriend’s last straw finally broke. His thick cum practically overflowed from your mouth and the accompanied game over music didn’t help him feel any better.

Ugh, he lost to both conditions.

Taking your mouth off with a ‘pop!’ you giggled at your boyfriend’s defeated look. Kenma only looked up at you with a glare (Catching you swallow his cum, it was hot but he was too irritated to admit that right now).

“Aw, soo scawy.” The baby talking you’d do whenever he lost to your game was major fucking salt to his wounds. You sat up, finally giving him a proper view of the swimwear you chose for him, making him flush more.

He should have looked up at you the first time you asked. You looked drop dead gorgeous. Granted, you do all the time but the swimwear only accentuates your features more. 

He gulped.

“So, that means you lost, kit-kat.” Oh right, the game.

“We’re not done yet.” You tilted your head in confusion at his statement.

“You don’t have anymore lives left in the game, and it would take you a little while to get it back u-” You yelped as Kenma quickly shut you up by pulling you on his lap, his switch now forgotten and thrown to the side (a non sandy side, those things are way too expensive to get sand in). You felt Kenma’s calloused fingers play with your clit through your swimsuit, making you let out a little gasp. You place your hands on your boyfriend’s shoulders for stability, he placed his free hand on your ass. Also for stability. 

…

Maybe.

Kenma’s fingers continued its ministrations on your clit through the thin fabric. You were getting more and more wet as he expertly played with your sensitive bud, the hand that started to shamelessly grope and knead at your ass certainly wasn’t helping either.

“Was my baby lonely?” His question caught you off guard. You could barely answer him from the stimulation he was giving you, you only nodded your head as you bit your lip. 

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Daddy’s sorry he hasn’t been able to give you the attention you need.” You flushed at his words. It’s been a hot minute since he’s called himself that. You shivered as your boyfriend moved the bottoms of the swimwear to the side and moved his middle and ring finger up and down the lips of your pussy.

“Look, you're even crying down here…” He raised his hand to show you how drenched his fingers already were. You felt embarrassment and shame getting wet so easily. That’s probably how Ken-ken felt earlier when you got him hard. You felt his wet fingers touch your lips, you looked at him in confusion.

“Open your mouth baby. Has it been so long that you’ve already forgotten?” Before you could open your mouth yourself, he gave your ass a harsh slap, causing you to gasp letting him shove his pussy drenched fingers in that warm mouth of yours. Your plush, soft lips closed around them and started to suck. He hasn’t even done much yet you already feel so light headed. 

“Good, at least you remember that part.” Kenma continued to knead your ass reassuringly as you sucked off all the juices off his fingers. He started to pump his fingers in and out of your mouth, relishing the wet warmth and the feeling of your soft lips.

Kenma took out his fingers from your mouth with only a string of spit connecting you two. 

“That’s a good baby.” Kenma held his dick with his wet hand, moving so the tip teases your clit. You shivered each time the tip of his cock flicked your little clit before he finally pushed the tip inside you. Your boyfriend moved his hands so that both hands properly gripped your waist and pushed you down the rest of his shaft.

You almost screamed that time. Only sobs left your throat from the pleasure you felt of finally being full after so long. You placed your head in the crook of his neck as he held you.

“There there baby, daddy’s finally giving you the attention you wanted.” You felt the man’s hands snake back down your ass. Slowly rocking you on his thick cock. Your sobs continued as your nails started to scrape against his back, the harsh feeling of your nails in his back contrasting with your tight, wet pussy was driving him insane. 

A sudden harsh thrust from his hip caused you to let out a yelp. His pace only got faster, fueled by the cute little noises you made and the expressions you made, looking like a dick drunk mess as he started to hit the sweet bundle of nerves you couldn’t quite hit the same by yourself.

“K-Kenma! I’m so closeee, pleasee! Harder!” You were bouncing on his cock like you were his fuck toy. Honestly, with how he uses you, you might as well be.

“I know baby, I’m almost there too.” Your boyfriend’s fingers snaked their way back to your little clit, teasing the little bud as he bounced you up and down his cock.

As you finally creamed around his cock, the way your pussy tightened around him was his last straw, he painted your insides white with his cum. But he continued to thrust even while cumming, fucking his cum inside you until he was milked dry.

You two laid in silence, basking in the afterglow of it all.

With how rough you two went, you were more surprised there wasn’t more sand on the beach towel you two were on.

Your boyfriend slowly moved you off his cock, moving your bottom swimwear back to normal so not a drop of his cum escaped before he ticked himself back in his swim trunks.

The two of you decided to get some mango shaved ice to cool off.

But the silence between you two was a bit agonizing. The sound of the jumping plumber no longer occupying the empty space.

Kenma was the first to break the silence between you two.

“Since the trip isn’t over yet… We can take a quick dip in the water,” he lazily ate the shaved ice before looking back at you with a familiar look in his eyes, continuing the sentence. “We can continue where we left off in the car, before we leave.” You flushed at the thought. 

Kenma finally has a taste of you after so long and he was addicted once more. Your body was far more fun than any game he can get his hands on, and he was ready to re-explore all of your body like it was his first time again.

[carriagelamp]

Spent a lot of time reading outside in the sun this month, which is, of course, the ultimate bliss of summer. Under the tree, by the lake, while camping, next to the creek...

Blacksad

Blacksad is a crime noir story following the titular private investigator in the 1950s, though with anthropomorphized animals rather than humans. Like an adult version of Zootopia. I picked up this omnibus of the first three volumes because I was in the middle of playing the PS4 game and quite enjoying the world it laid out, though I ended up having mixed feelings about the series as a whole. It explores some complicated issues of American society during the 1950s, like racism, fascism, and nuclear armament, and since the creators are both Spanish rather than American themselves I liked the sort of outside perspective. It laid things bare in a way that you don’t always get from other works. 

That being said, some of the issues definitely hit weird, the stories often felt like they were trying to tackle more than they had space to actually tell, and the way they portray women is just absolute shit. It’s one of those “the men definitely Are Animals and the women Have A Lil Nose And Maybe Some Non-Descript Animals Ears”. It made the sex scenes VERY uncomfortable, to have a Definite Animal and a Definite Human. 

Still, the art itself is almost able to redeem all other faults.

Demon Slayer 5,6

I continue along with this series, which follows Tanjiro as he travels with his demon-turned sister, trying to find a cure and develop his skills as a demon slayer, to get revenge on the monsters that killed their family. I still like the premise, there’s something very pure about it, like a platonic ideal of shonen, and Tanjiro is a delight. These last two books though I found a bit more lackluster. Also we have entered Character Have Just The Weirdest Design that a lot of shonen seem to hit sooner or later.

Dennis the Menace: To The Core

Stumbled across this while cleaning and had to stop everything to read it. One of those cute classics you just can’t go wrong with. It's simple but always cute.

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation 2

This series owns my soul. I am currently reading the third and trying to make it last because I will be going insane while I wait for the fourth book which doesn’t come out til WINTER. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji are complete fucking morons and I love them with my entire heart. This book was a little rough for deep, long sections of backstory that followed other characters. While I did technically enjoy those sections and I liked the characters in them, they often ended up feeling VERY long. I would have liked for them to have been a bit more interspersed with the actual protagonists. Still, I’m loving the lore and the world and the politics… ending of book 2 had me absolutely losing my shit.

and listen, adult novels that still give you full page illustrations? I'm a simple person and I love this.

Grease

Okay, so I am a sucker for a well done novelization. This is not that. I have never seen an author fail to understand their assignment so badly. This person has framed the story so that SONNY, a random T-Bird, is the narrator. You know, everyone’s favourite character. This also means it EXCLUSIVELY shows the POV of the T-Birds, and absolutely nothing about the Pink Ladies or Sandy except for when they intercept the T-Birds, and layered through Sonny’s sexist narrative. It honestly sucks so incredibly much. I did not finish this and was tempted to toss it in the river.

Haikyu 42-45

I! HAVE! FINISHED! THE! SERIES! Man, I can’t think of many manga that made me read for fourty fucking volumes but Haikyu managed it. Absolutely phenomenal sports manga, the way this author was able to follow so many different characters and make you really care about their development and struggles… absolutely masterful. And not just the main character, not just the main team, this manga-ka did a really fantastic job of placing you into the POV of other teams and I think that went a long way for keeping the series feeling fresh and exciting. And every time a character you cared about got better it felt like such a success! Admittedly, the last few volumes, which showed the post-high school lives of the characters, were not my favourite ending ever. Having the characters fail to win the Spring Tournament, as cliche as that may have been, took a lot of the wind from my sails and I never really got it back. The final match in the last book was enjoyable, seeing how Hinata has grown into a truly superb player was epic, and I love the peek at the Olympics, but it didn’t have the magic that the rest of the series had for me.

Love Stage

Disappointing. I’ve read a lot of other books by this author and have always really enjoyed them. I usually don’t by yaoi sight-unseen these days because I don’t trust like that, but I decided to give it a go because this author has never steered me wrong. This one, unfortunately did. It had funny moments, but the squickiness completely overpowered everything else. Would not recommend, unless you really enjoyed a very specific, standard yaoi format that was common in like… the mid-naughts.

Neon Sign Amber

Now this one was good. I had to read it in French because it never got an English translation, but it was worth the weirdness of having a French-English dictionary next to me while I read smut. It was a charming single book story with really nice art. If anything, I wouldn’t have minded another book just because the ending felt a bit rushed — one character has a lot of baggage about people knowing he’s gay, and the other is only just coming to terms with his sexuality, so seeing how these two adults navigate an actual relationship would have been very interesting. Are they open about it? What sort of road bumps do they have to sort out together? I dunno, I had more questions, but what it gave me was still very nice.

Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun 1,2

…Okay, I’ll be honest, I read the name, made some VERY specific assumptions, and pointedly avoided this manga. My cousin decided to actually read the back though and that’s how I found out my assumptions were wrong and it’s actually pretty cute. It’s about a “Hanako-san” ghost… which is normally a girl ghost, though not in this case. He helps keeps the other mysteries of the school in check, and ends up getting a human girl wrapped up in the local supernatural activity. It feels like a slightly more childish xxxHolic which isn’t an itch I ever expected to have scratched by another series, so that’s exciting.

What Did You Eat Yesterday 1

Just a cute domestic romance that’s all framed around the meals one of the main characters cooks. It has middle aged characters, which is a nice change from a lot of romances/yaoi, with more adult dilemmas to work through. And each chapter dedicates several loving pages to walking you through exactly what’s being cooked, to the point where I’m pretty sure you could cook along with the main character if you wanted. It was lovely.

[viking-raider]

The Belle and the Bane - Intro

Summary: How the legend of the Bane began and your simple life.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 2,611

Rating: Fantasy!AU, Mentions of death, Illness, Language, Angst, Curses

Inspiration: The beauty and the beast, among other things.

Author’s Note: Thanks to @wondersofdreaming​ for brainstorming this with me, hammering out the details! Tell me what you think!

Once upon a time, in an ancient land, there was a small village of three hundred dreary and poor inhabitants. In this small village of Mintwillow, there was a legend of dark and sinful proportions; the legend went like this.

Living in a neglected castle, a handful of leagues from the village, placed perilously on the edge of a cliff, with the roaring and roiling waves of an ocean below, crashing against the rock face and eroding it away, was who the village called, the Bane. He had been the fourth of five children, all brothers, who had all lived happily and harmoniously with their loving and pampering parents. The family was the most prosperous family within nearly sixty leagues of the village, which, at the time, was just as prosperous and bustling, riding the wave of their success.

But, then, disaster struck.

A horrible illness washed over the county, striking the inhabitants of Mintwillow the hardest. The Bane's family, despite their wealth and good standing, also became victims of the disease. Every last one of them became sick with it; bedridden and raving, bodies throbbing, as if all of their bones were shattering, and sweating so profusely from their fevers, that their mattresses were soaked through, and took turns in getting sick. Their servants, also sick themselves, did their best to care for their beloved masters, but it was all for not. First, the mistress of the castle died of the illness, followed by the youngest son and the third oldest. The father and oldest went two days later, but the second oldest and second youngest held out for a fortnight. On the night of the fourteenth day, even after a glitter of hope of becoming well again, the second oldest perished, leaving only the second youngest alive.

Who still fought for his life against the illness.

He had languished between getting better for a day or two, before becoming quite worse and being only moments, if not seconds, from death. But, finally, after nearly another fortnight, the second youngest son roused, his fever breaking and his life safe from the dark tentacles of death that had taken all of his family, all that mattered and he held so dearly to his heart.

It had taken time, and a good many lives, before the plague that washed over Mintwillow to pass away, leaving an ugly scar in the lives and minds of the inhabitants. While a mass grave had to be excavated for the townspeople, the bodies of the dead family were given single graves in their ancestral graveyard, just down the hill from the castle. It was the day of their funeral, even though they had already been in their graves for a month or more, that the second youngest son, now the heir and executor of the family empire, realized the amount of power he suddenly wielded; the mass fortunes of gold he had at his disposal, for every want, whim and fancy he could ever dream of, with no one to tell him no, or hold him in check with the spending.

That was when the Bane came to be.

He threw huge balls for the top families in the land, inviting the prettiest women his staff could find and lived in the county. He spent thousands of pounds on furnishings, decorations and things he had no need for; some he didn't even know how to work and use, but bought, simply because he could. But, within two years of his new found power, the money was starting to dwindle. He was spending more than the family business could support.

So, he taxed the small town of Mintwillow.

Raising the taxes on the goods he supplied them, supplies and goods they needed to live and support themselves, since the next option to do so, was over a hundred leagues away. He taxed them for everything he could, and even thought up new things he could tax them on, because he knew without him, they would all likely starve.

After awhile, spending mountains of gold, throwing lavish parties and having an endless line of women, didn't fill the hole that had been left at the loss of his parents and brothers. Nonetheless, he kept spending the gold and dancing at his parties and bedding every woman he could. It had become a habit now, instead of a pleasure. However, in the third year after the illness, and quite suddenly, he no longer threw lavish parties that lasted for days, he no longer spent vast amounts of gold or entertained a woman. Some in the village speculated that he had packed up and moved out of the county, having slighted some young lady's honor and ran before her father could force him into marrying her. Some said, someone he had overtaxed had become so enraged by it, they murdered him and his body was decaying somewhere in the castle.

But, the impossibly high taxes kept being enforced and collected.

What he had done, was reduced the staff to a single butler, closed up all of the rooms, but his own bedroom, a study and the kitchen; leaving the rest to grow thick layers of dust, cobwebs, moth holes and to fall into disrepair and neglect; leaving the ghosts of his former life to inhabit them.

Shutting the world away and darkening the once bright and full of life castle.

Why would he suddenly close out the world like that? The answer isn't as simple as one might think.

During one of the biggest balls he had ever thrown, the girls were flocking him, as usual, when an exceptionally gorgeous woman approached him, she was so radiant in her gown and her self assurance, that he couldn't help be attracted to her, drawn to her glow, like a moth to the naked flame of a candle. Pushing away all other women, he approached her, turning his handsome charm onto her. She was just as drawn to him as he was to her. They danced and floated around each other, none other existed to them, not the nearly two hundred guests or the jealous women; just him and her.

Before long, the pair were in the privacy of one of the castle's many rooms, sitting close together on a divan, smiling faces so near to each other, they shared the same breath. They shared jokes and quips, flirtations and jests. But, suddenly, her behavior changed and her bright eyes dimmed, like a dangerous storm cloud.

“You like all your fancy things, don't you?” She hissed at him. “Having every woman fling herself upon your feet, like a simpering puppy.”

He blinked at her, taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. “What are you talking about?” He demanded, pulling away from her; shock and brewing rage in his blue eyes and handsome face.

“Taxing the lands and lives of all the poor souls in this land, while you sit fit and happy upon your mountains of gold and privilege.” Her own rage grew, out matching his own. “Yet, you are as miserable, if not more so, than they are. But, you still tax them, sucking them dry, until they are so far in debt to you, they fling themselves from the cliffs, to end their suffering.”

“Suffering you cause for nothing.”

“I won't be spoken to like this.” He said in a low growl, his upper lip twitching with a snarl. “Get out and never show your face here again! Or I'll show you what true misery is!” He raved, jumping to his feet and pointing a stiff finger to the door.

She stood with him, quite gracefully for a soul so consumed with rage and distaste. “No, you will know what misery really is!” She barked, before roughly kissing him, her long nails digging into the soft flesh of his neck, leaving thin trails of blood in their stead.

“That will be the last kindness you will have for some time.” She hissed, then swept out of the room.

The room was dark and stifling hot, you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your back, as you leaned over the mortar you were currently grinding up a combination of white willow bark, yarrow and marshmallow root in. Another painful sounding and wet cough filled the single room hut your patient lived in with her husband and six children, all under the age of nine. Getting the herbs fine enough, you turned to the roaring fireplace that dominated a large section of the north wall of the hut. You had told her husband not to put so many logs on the fire, she was already badly hydrated, and the overwhelming heat of the fire, combined with her high fever, were causing her to sweat profusely, making her even more dehydrated.

But, being a man and feeling he knew better than you, he kept feeding more and more logs into the licking flames.

You suppressed an eye roll as he tossed another sizable log into the fire, sending up a shower of sparks into the chimney flue. Using the skirt of your dress, you grabbed a hold of the handle to the roiling kettle and pulled it off the hook that held it over the flames. Taking it back to the makeshift kitchen table, you dumped the ground herbs into the battered and chipped teapot, then poured in the steaming hot water, leaving it to brew the herbal tea that would reduce her fever and help quiet down her cough.

“Have her drink the whole pot.” You told him, holding the teapot, and still using your dress as a barrier, while you gently swirl the liquid inside, the heat radiating through the porcelain felt pleasant. “Even if she doesn't want to. But, don't make her drink it too fast either. Maybe a cup every half hour.” You explained to him, setting it back down on its stone coaster.

“If she gets any worse, come and get me.” You added, gathering your little bag full of herbs and other odds and ends you used as a healer for Mintwillow.

“Thank you.” The husband said gruffly, standing stiffly by his wife's side.

“Of course.” You nodded to him, then gave the youngest child, only fourteen months old, and sitting on the hearth rug, gumming on a biscuit, a smile; recalling you helping birth the babe into the world, before going out into the cold and salty air.

It was so much nicer out there, the winds pushing in pungent ocean air, salty and fresh, with a tang of fish and kelp. It was cool and refreshing, an excellent cure all to the stuffy and hot atmosphere of the hut you just left. You were nearly home, when a familiar silhouette appeared in the early evening mist, bringing a happy smile to your face.

“Hello, papa.” You greeted him as he fully appeared.

“Hello, child.” He smiled back at you, his tired and wrinkled face brightening at the sight of you. “How is she?” He asked, eyes flickering to the hut several yards behind you.

“She should be just fine.” You assured him, confidently. “Just a strong cold. Nothing I can't fight.” You chuckled, but you could see the undeniable fear and anxiety in his deep set brown eyes.

Your father, honestly, loathed that you were a healer, but he honored your choice, like he had always done your entire life. If you set your mind to something and he knew you couldn't be swayed on the subject, he would respectfully disagree, but would support you, through and through. You were his daughter, his first born, his only born, and he would move heaven and earth for your happiness. But, his fear and anxiety over your chosen profession came with good merit and reason. Nearly five years before, a great illness had swept over the village, taking so many lives. But, there was one person there, doing her utmost best to try, and at least, slow its progression.

Your mother.

She had been Mintwillow's healer longer than you had been born, before she and your father had even married. Nothing would stop her from healing her fellow villagers, not even that horrid plague. She had worked tirelessly to try and stop it, though, more often than not, she would lose to it. Your mother didn't let that stop her though, she kept trying and trying, mixing every type of herb she had and could get her hands on, looking for a cure. Your father would have to bodily drag her away from her herbalist table, just so she would take a moment to eat or drink something, to sleep, even if it was just for a moment's nap.

Then, she was right back at it.

In the end though, four dozen Mintwillow villagers died, your dearest mother, being one of them. She had caught it, after being in contact with so many of the infected, and died almost a week later; leaving only you and your father. You had gotten the illness, there was barely a single handful of people who didn't get it, but had survived, with very little after effects. Your father on the other hand, had survived, only to be severely affected by it, he couldn't work the endless hours he once had as the village's blacksmith, finding wielding the heavy tools of his craft almost too much to manage for more than an hour or two.

Which affected the household income, making so many things you both needed scarce, like food and clothing. So, taking what you had learned from your mother, you stepped into her shoes as the village healer, hoping that the occasional gold piece would help ease the burden on your father. It still wasn't enough though, and that became abundantly clear, when stiff and high taxes were pressed on the village and its workers, your father being one of them, needing the supplies for his blacksmithing, causing him to be heavily in debt.

Of all the bones in your body, there was only one of them that was mean, and it loathed the life crippling taxes that squeezed and bled every person in the village, man, woman, child and even infants. You glanced across the foggy village, to the shadowy smudge, almost hidden by the charcoal clouds, that were like puffs of wool, against stark purple sky; the castle. You hated that filthy structure that loomed over the village, like an awful eye, bringing nothing be hardship and doom. You hated the creature that lived inside of it, reaping all the benefit of your father's hard-work, while you both struggled to put half a loaf of bread on the table for one of the two meals you could afford a day; if you were lucky.

Shaking the malice away from your thoughts, you followed your father back to your home. It was a little more than the rest of the homes in Mintwillow, it was a story and a half, the kitchen and living area was all one room, there was a water closet and a back room, that was your father's room. The half story was a loft, that was your own room. You loved your room, going up the half spiral staircase to it, it was closed off, so you had the utmost level of privacy. Half of your room, hanging above a writing desk, was an array of herbs that you used for your healing.

The one thing about your room that you had a qualm with, was the single peaked window; it pointed towards the bleak structure on the stormy cliffs, forever in your sight, whenever you look out your window. You wished it would just fall off the cliff it was butted up against; the gloomy and cursed castle of the Bane.

[ggukcangetit]

Chocolates & Laundry Do Not Mix - JJK fic

title: Chocolates & Laundry Do Not Mix [Prequel to Crime & Punishment]

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: PG 13

warnings: language, y/n uses a pillow to deal with her frustration, not much else?

word count: 3.5k

summary: when your best friend, Namjoon, asks if a junior from his business ventures class can live with you till his lease comes through, you don’t think much about it. But one month with Jeon Jungkook proves to be extremely difficult because of how little the boy says but how much he seems to topple over without much effort.

a/n: this is the first fic for jungkook’s birthday! happy birthday to the bestest, most lovely, wonderful, soft-hearted boy out there. we love you, koo! wishing you happiness always <3

Before Jungkook

Namjoon is a great guy. He’s smart, funny, considerate, thoughtful, kind, and definitely one of the best looking guys out there. You love him, you really do. But there are times when you wish you could roundhouse kick his dimpled ass out of the window. And this would be one of those moments. 

“It’ll only be for a couple of months, y/n.” Namjoon sat down on the grass, his long legs stretching out in front of him. Seokjin reached over you and handed him the last neatly packed chicken wrap he had brought. “The lease at his old place ran out last week, and the place he’s going to move to doesn’t allow tenants before August. You’re the only one of us who currently doesn’t have a roommate.”

You frowned, the wonderfully seasoned chicken inside Seokjin’s wrap not really registering in your system. “Seokjin can’t?”

“You do know that I just graduated and will be moving to a different city in a couple of days, right?” He shot you a look and promptly flopped onto the grass dramatically.

“What about Yoongi?” 

“He’s moved in with his girlfriend.” Namjoon quirked an eyebrow. “Do you not read any of the messages in the group chat?”

“Jimin? Hobi?” You were desperate at this point.

“Hobi lives with me. And Jimin lives with Taehyung right now. But the two of them are planning to move into a new apartment before classes start in the fall and Jungkook will be staying with them after that! So what do you say?” Namjoon stared at you expectantly. “Can Jungkook crash at your place for the summer?”

If it were up to you, some random junior from Namjoon’s business class would not be crashing at your modest apartment while you slaved your ass off working part-time so that your job prospects would be minutely better at the time of graduation. But then - you stared at Namjoon’s inquiring gaze and Seokjin’s knowing eyebrow raise - it was never really up to you, was it? No. Somehow, all decisions in your friend group had become a matter of collective responsibility. Yoongi wants to buy a new sound system? Well, it must be compatible with the latest AR gaming technology so that Seokjin can come over and use it whenever he wants. Hobi’s ordering a designer jacket for his birthday? It can’t be orange because Jimin wouldn’t be caught dead wearing orange. 

And the list goes on…

What it ultimately came down to was that Jungkook would be staying at your place over the summer. If you said no, your friends would definitely understand… But you would feel like a piece of shit for the rest of the year. So-

“Thanks for letting me stay here, y/n.” Jungkook wasn’t what you had expected. Although you had received very contrasting, even conflicting, descriptions of him from your friends.

“He’s a shy guy,” Namjoon said while walking his bike out of the university courtyard. “Doesn’t speak to a lot of people easily.”

Seokjin, naturally, had said something completely different. “He’s the toughest guy I know. Dude could easily bench press us all at the same time.”

That had left you a little worried so, of course, you decided to speak to Hobi. “Jungkook? Haha! That guy’s really something else! He barely sleeps at night because he’s playing video games! And he’s a snack monster!”

Your mind immediately went to the basket of snacks you kept at your apartment. There was no way this guy would touch your stuff, right?

“Jungkook’s a total prankster!” Jimin giggled while sipping his iced tea. “You should see the stuff he and Tae get up to sometimes!”

“It’s no big deal.” Your reply lacked the minimal amount of enthusiasm required to not be considered a big deal, though. If Jungkook picked up on that, he didn’t say anything.

Week 1 with Jungkook

The first couple of days went by without any issues. He seemed like a quiet guy who kept to himself - so far Namjoon’s description had been the most accurate - and you supposed two months with him around wouldn’t be terrible.

That’s where you were sorely mistaken. Suddenly, you found the fridge full of banana milk cartons - not a few bottles, mind you, but a few cartons of banana milk. Every single cupboard in the kitchen was now stuffed with protein supplements, low carb snacks, and the entire country’s supply of instant ramen. Now, you didn’t have anything against instant ramen per se - heck, you really enjoyed the beauty of a quick delicious meal at the end of a long day - but this was pushing things a little. Because for every single instant ramen packet placed in the kitchen, something of yours had to be displaced rather dramatically.

For instance, you had woken up early one Tuesday morning, craving chocolate chip pancakes like nobody’s business. The chocolate chips were kept on the middle shelf of the third cupboard from the left - as they had been since you had moved in a year ago. You knew exactly where your things were placed and, having the unassailable confidence of an only child who has never had to share their space and now lives on their own as well, you opened the cupboard door without looking up. This was clearly not as smart a decision as you had imagined because a ton of instant ramen packets came cascading down on your head. 

Jungkook came rushing out of his bedroom, alarmed by the sound of loud and colourful cursing coming from the kitchen. “Is everything okay?!”

The look on your face was probably one Seokjin would have laughed at until he had tears in his eyes. But Jungkook, completely unacquainted with your temper and the peculiar things that set you off, looked like he had just found out that he was allergic to both banana and dairy. Actually, he looked more like Hobi the day he had come home to find Jimin and Taehyung working on the latter’s art project which had resulted in the most tragic paint spill on the most beautiful white carpet in the history of college roommate sagas. 

“Oh shit! The ramen- I’m so sorry, y/n!” Jungkook ran towards you to try and help. Unfortunately, he was both hesitant to physically check if you were okay and eager in his desire to make things alright, resulting in a collision which sent you hurtling towards the ground in what would have been an extremely nasty fall. To Jungkook’s credit, he had some insanely rapid reflexes and managed to catch you before you hit the tiled floor and cracked your skull open. 

There was a brief moment between when he wrapped his arm around your waist and when your brows furrowed in annoyance, where you caught a whiff of his apple-scented shampoo and noticed the tiny mole on the bridge of his nose. 

Cute.

You wriggled out of his hold and fixed him with a look that, hopefully, conveyed that you were supremely displeased with his ramen placement without actually having to tell him off. 

“S-sorry about that.” The look had done its job. Jungkook quickly gathered up the fallen ramen packets and stuffed them into the nearest drawer - which then could not be closed.

“How much ramen do you have…?” Your annoyance was replaced with sheer curiosity at this point.

“Oh, uh… I won a gaming contest and the first prize was a year’s worth of instant ramen.” He scratched the back of his neck self-consciously, cheeks turning pink in embarrassment.

You sighed. “Come on, let me show you the extra storage space behind the shoe cupboard.”

Week 2 with Jungkook

Jungkook wasn’t a loud and inconsiderate roommate. In fact, after the ramen debacle of the first week, he had been coexisting with you quite beautifully. Sometimes you would cook dinner, curse at the fact that you had to cook dinner, and then secretly cherish the absolute delight on Jungkook’s face as he ate the dinner you had cooked. Other times, he would tap into his self-proclaimed noodle know-how and whip up some sort of deluxe instant ramen dish, which always turned out to be heavenly and it was all you could do to stop yourself from moaning in pleasure while you both slurped the noodles.

Then, of course, were the times when you ordered takeout, and somehow attracted all the ravenous souls present on the group chat. It didn’t matter whether it was sushi or tacos or fried chicken or pizza or chinese or even a batch of mini donuts from the tiny shop opposite your apartment - all six of them invariably came knocking a few minutes before the food was delivered.

“Gguk, how’s the summer internship going?” Yoongi was holding his third slice of pizza, sitting on the floor with his legs spread haphazardly. This was one of the rare times when he had dropped by for a random friday hangout - his friday nights were usually reserved for his girlfriend. 

Jungkook looked up from the game he had been playing with Taehyung and Seokjin. “Oh, it’s fine. The usual internship bullshit.” He let out a small winner as his car flew past the others just before the finish line.

“This damn game is rigged,” muttered Seokjin. “How come nobody but Jungkook ever wins?”

“That’s because you suck, Jin!” Jungkook ducked out of the way as Seokjin reached out to punch him. “Face it, racing games aren’t your thing.”

At the other end of the room, Hobi was dozing off at the dining table while Jimin and Namjoon played their 9th game of Go Fish. Yoongi bit into the pizza and motioned Taehyung to get him a beer from the fridge. 

“We should go clubbing.” Taehyung’s impulsive and, frankly, terrible ideas were usually a result of a three-game losing streak. If there was anyone who hated losing more than Seokjin, it was the raven haired guy with soft curls falling on his forehead, staring at all of you with his piercing gaze.

“I’m exhausted. I had classes from 9-7 today,” said Namjoon, waving his hand dismissively.

“I work on Saturdays, Tae. You know that.” Seokjin got up and stretched his arms above his head. “I’m going to head out now.”

“The rest of us can go then.” Taehyung was nothing if not persistent. 

“Hobi’s passed out already. And Soya’s waiting for me at home. So I’m going to drop him and Joon at their place, and then head back myself.”

These negative responses did nothing to deter Taehyung’s determination to go clubbing, which meant that you found yourself smooshed into the back of an uber with Taehyung and Jungkook as Jimin sat shotgun. Not only did you absolutely hate clubbing, but the fact that both Jungkook and Taehyung were very well-built, muscular guys, meant that you basically had one butt cheek of space to sit on.

“You okay?” asked Jungkook, before the four of you walked into the club.

“My left butt cheek is asleep, but otherwise all good.” He giggled at your response, gently laying a hand on your back so that you wouldn’t be separated from the group.

An hour later, you were completely certain of three things.

First off, there was nothing in the world that could make you enjoy clubbing. Not the location, not the music, and not the people you were with. Secondly, the three boys you were with not only had devastating good looks, but also managed to shake up the club with their crowd-pulling dances. Jimin’s style relied heavily on his seductive hip movements while Taehyung was destroying everyone with his smoldering expressions. Jungkook, meanwhile, was running completely on an adrenaline rush, and matched Jimin and Taehyung move for move, adding a sexy amount of aggression to the dances as well.

And finally, Jungkook, despite his muscles and dancing and adrenaline, liked to cuddle when he was extremely exhausted and had someone in his vicinity. That someone happened to be you that night as you came back to the sofa to find him curled up into a ball, his mouth slightly open as he slept peacefully. Your mistake was trying to place a blanket on top of him because you soon found yourself being pulled into his embrace as you became Jungkook’s personal cuddle pillow. You could say that you struggled for a long time, trying to break out of his grasp but he was just too strong for you, so you eventually gave up and fell asleep while cuddling with him on the sofa.

But then you would be lying. 

Week 3 with Jungkook 

Not that you would ever admit it, but Jungkook had a very pert bottom. As bottoms go, his was definitely somewhere in the top tier. The general consensus on campus was that Jimin and Taehyung were the usual contestants in the battle of the first-rate bottoms. But those of the general consensus had clearly never seen Jungkook in skin-tight jeans, kneeling on the floor while trying to reach for the remote that had fallen under the sofa. 

“You’re zoning out again!” Seokjin was seated opposite you and snapped his fingers in front of your face. “You know I hate being ignored, y/n.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t ignoring you…” Your cheeks colored as you tried to rid your mind of the images of Jungkook from that morning, reaching for the highest shelf and flashing a beautiful strip of impeccably shaped abs.

“Tell me you aren’t daydreaming about Jungkook’s ass.”

“I am not daydreaming about Jungkook’s a-” You closed your mouth quickly, slapping Seokjin’s arm for good measure. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Work’s so boring and you’re so predictably entertaining, y/n,” he grinned and bit into the chocolate cupcake in front of him. “I miss seeing you everyday.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you grumbled.

“Nah, but seriously, Jungkook’s a solid guy - pun completely intended.” You rolled your eyes as he snickered at his joke. “You two would be good together.”

“You’re well aware of my stance on people setting me up, right?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“No one’s setting you up. I’m just saying -” Seokjin popped the remaining half of the cupcake into his mouth - “if there’s potential, you shouldn’t stop yourself.”

Unfortunately, any potential that may have been present, completely fizzled out when you got home that afternoon. You had made one thing perfectly clear the day that Jungkook had moved in with his stuff - your snack supply was completely off-limits. Yet here you were, staring at a near empty basket while Jungkook lounged on the sofa with chocolatey fingers and an empty chips packet lying on the table. 

Pert bottoms definitely did not trump snack supplies - as Jungkook found out the hard way when a pillow came crashing down on him with the wrath of all your ancestors combined.

“Y/n! What the fuck?!” he yelped, ducking from your well-aimed blows.

“My snacks! They’re off limits! Asshole!” You punctuated each word with a smack of your pillow.

“Stop! Stop!” He grabbed the pillow from your hands and threw it as far as he could. “I’m sorry! I was really hungry and there wasn’t anything else at home!”

His stupid big doe eyes were just too damn sincere and you felt yourself deflating and sinking into the sofa. After making sure that you wouldn’t attack him again, Jungkook sat down beside you, nudging you softly with his shoulder. “I was going to go to the asian store once they open in the evening. Do you want to come with and help me replenish the snack supply?”

You huffed in annoyance but gradually rested your head on his shoulder. Jungkook had lived with you long enough to know that that was a yes.

Week 4 with Jungkook

Choosing movies to watch over dinner was always something you struggled with. Not when you were alone. No, you knew exactly what you wanted to watch. Your Netflix suggestions were appropriately lined up with crime dramas and sci-fi thrillers. It was only when there was someone else watching with you that the situation became contentious. Namjoon had a penchant for documentaries, and Hobi and Jimin liked watching musicals. Seokjin refused to watch anything even remotely close to a horror film, and Yoongi and Taehyung always voted for heavy art films. And Jungkook-

“I am not watching Titanic.” You settled into the sofa with your bowl of pasta, reaching forward to grab the soda can on the table.

“Come on, y/n! It’s a classic!” Jungkook whined. You had realised that the boy whined a lot over little things like movie selections and waking up before 8 am. “A tragic tale of true love.”

You snorted into your food. “True love would’ve been if they’d both survived.”

“You’re so cold.” There it was, the infamous Jeon Jungkook pout. It didn’t make an appearance often, but when it did, you found yourself growing weaker and much more likely to give in to whatever stupid thing he wanted.

“Fine. Put it on. But don’t blame me when I end up scrolling through Instagram the entire time.”

“I won’t,” he grinned and sat down next to you. The sofa dipped considerably and you found yourself sliding towards him involuntarily. It wasn’t that this position was uncomfortable - you were actually really fond of unwitting physical contact with your friends. The only problem was the way your heartbeat quickened every time the unwitting contact was with Jungkook. 

By the time the movie was over, Jungkook’s nose was running. It was no secret that he cried during sad movies but you still loved teasing him about how easily characters brought him to tears.

“Damn, look at you crying over Jack and Rose. They’re just fictional characters and Rose didn’t even die! What would you do if I was in their place? Would you cry over me too, Gguk?” You nudged his shoulder playfully.

“No.” His reply was firm and you wondered if he had been offended this time.

“No? Why not?”

“I’d never let that happen to you.”

You could safely say that you had never bolted to the bathroom as quickly as that moment, splashing your cheeks with cold water to bring down the flush.

This wasn’t the only time Jungkook had left you completely speechless, however. He ordered takeout much more than you did, not having time to cook much because of his internship. And his takeout orders usually consisted of either pizza or fried chicken. On most days, you were done with dinner by the time he got home and ordered takeout.

On one such day, you looked up from the spreadsheet you had been working on, your stomach clearly unsatisfied with the grilled cheese sandwich you had eaten a couple of hours ago. Making your way to the kitchen, you rummaged through the contents of the fridge, huffing in annoyance as you found nothing suitable for your current hunger-related dilemma.

“Do you want pizza? I’ve finished but there are a couple of slices left.” Jungkook pushed the box towards you and turned his attention back to his phone. It was a veggie supreme - something that Jungkook always ordered.

“How come there aren’t any olives?” you asked, knowing that that particular pizza store always put olives on their veggie pizzas.

“I asked them to take out the olives.”

“Why? I thought you loved olives.”

“I do. But you don’t eat olives.”

Your mouth hung open for a moment. “But you ordered the pizza for yourself…”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want the olives to stop you in case you wanted to have a slice.”

He hadn’t looked up during the entire conversation but you could see the way his cheeks turned pink and how he kept tugging at his ear. You, yourself, felt your heart soar and bit into a slice of pizza - trying to stop the shit-eating grin from spreading on your face.

After Jungkook

It turned out that Jungkook didn’t need to stay at your place for more than a month. Jimin and Taehyung had somehow convinced their landlord to allow them to move in a month ahead of the designated move-in date, which meant that you were once again living alone. 

It was weird. There was a lot of space in your cupboards once again and the fridge didn’t always smell of chocolate shakes and overripe bananas. You were also free to choose whatever movie you wanted to watch with dinner. But something still felt amiss…

You sighed and reached for your basket of snacks, frowning as your fingers swiped at thin air. Your eyes widened as you glanced at your previously well-stocked supply of snacks, noting the distinct lack of at least 75% percent of its contents.

“JEON JUNGKOOK!”

please leave a comment if you enjoyed this story!  tagging @holynamtiddies​ , @hauntedlilies​

[samwrights]

Two Little Lines Pt. 2

More babies!! WOW I’M SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO MAKE A WHOLE ASS FIC OUT OF FUKATUCHI.

Er, warning? Implied alcoholism in Semi’s.

Terushima;

To say that you and Terushima lived a perfect life together would be an outright lie.

Sure, the two of you had been together since your guys’ third year of high school and you have always found a way to make the relationship work.

But you were so tired.

So tired of acting more like his mother than his girlfriend of the last four years. He hardly helped around the apartment, never cooked a meal, and if he was home and not passed out, he’d ditch you to go hang out with his friends.

It just didn’t feel like a relationship anymore; it felt like you were roommates who slept in the same bed.

And Terushima Yūji was entirely oblivious to the fact.

To say that it broke your heart would be an understatement.

But even so, you held onto the hope that you and Teru would make this all work and everything would go back to the way it used to be.

Hope in the form of crying out the anguish in your soul every night as you went to bed.

You ain’t slick though, but Terushima just doesn’t know what to do—

he’s terrified to confront you about this because what if you finally realize that he’s really just a piece of shit and you should have left years ago?

I love Terushima but lowkey I feel like he’s toxic 💀

But he tries—tries in the form of actually talking about topics that have real substance for the first time in months.

It actually goes rather well!

Too well.

It was nice to have your boyfriend back, even if temporarily.

To have human, physical contact with him was needed.

But also landed you in your current predicament—sitting on your bathroom floor, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test you felt you needed to buy earlier.

You were tired—way more than usual lately. The morning sickness, however, was what prompted you.

It was currently 2am. Yūji would be home soon from wherever he decided to go to, and the timer on your phone goes off signaling for you to check.

Not that you needed nor wanted the confirmation, but the two little lines were the nail in the coffin.

Lmaofuck.

“[name]?” Terushima calls out from the hallway. He must’ve noticed you weren’t in bed despite the late hour.

Hearing his voice brought tears to your eyes and you wished you could lie and say they were from joy.

The sobs are what captures his attention, prompting him to barge into the bathroom. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

You don’t say anything; you’re afraid you’ll say everything you’d been harboring inside for years. Instead, you point to the pregnancy test with a shaky finger.

“Wha—oh. Oh!” Aside from the three syllables that left his lips, he had no idea what else to say.

Because he knows.

Terushima knows that things haven’t been going all that great and the both of you just loved each other too much to let the other go.

“I don’t know what to do, Yūji.” Your voice is devoid of all emotion, reflecting the emptiness you’d been feeling for so long.

“The choice is yours, always. But...” Terushima comes to sit with you on the tiled floor, tugging at your cheek so that you can look at him. “This is my sign, I guess, that I have to be better. We aren’t kids anymore, shit we could be having a kid—I can’t just do whatever the hell I want.”

“You shouldn’t have been in the first place,” you seeth, “Yūji, we’ve been in a partnership since high school.”

“And you’ve been carrying the team.” At least he acknowledges it. “Now you’re literally carrying the team.”

“Dude,” you smack his arm lightly, not missing his joke. “Be serious.”

“I am. I mean it. I don’t want to lose you, [name], so I’m going to try. I want to be better for you, for both of you.”

Semi;

Was Semi Eita perfect? No.

Did you need him to be perfect? Also no.

But for the last three years, there had always been some kind of disconnect between you two regarding what you wanted for the future.

You both were incredibly supportive of each other’s respective paths—shit, you were Semi’s biggest fan when it came to his music.

But considering he often had to travel, he just couldn’t see eye to eye with you and your need for stable roots.

What was the point of spending money on a house when your two bedroom apartment suited you just fine?

He did concede to the two of you getting a dog, so that was nice at least.

But above all, you wanted to be a family. Married, kids, a yard—the whole package. He knew this, but always had an excuse.

“My career is just taking off. If we get married, I don’t want to abandon either of you—I want to be able to dedicate the proper time to both of you.” Okay, fair.

“We don’t have enough saved for a house yet.” Also fair.

“Being a parent is a full time job.” He had valid points to everything, but that did little to quell your desires.

But for Semi, you were willing to make some sacrifices.

Kinda.

However, Semi doesn’t notice the subtle changes that have come from you.

You’re working more, home less, and if you were home, you’d already have had dinner and hanging out in the bathtub while chugging a bottle of wine.

At first, Eita just thinks that you’ve had a rough day at work or something and he gives you your space.

But one bottle turns into four, and he’s had to carry you out of the tub more than once or twice.

“Babe, talk to me. What’s wrong?” Semi had left work early one day just to make sure he caught you before you started your evening ritual.

“Nothing’s wrong, Eita!” But he could hear the forced optimism along with the way your grin didn’t make your cheekbones close your eyes at the corner like they always did.

“[name], please. Don’t shut me out.” Have you ever heard Semi Eita beg? No? That’s cause it never happens.

“I swear, I’m fine! Just had—“

“A hard day at work, I know. I don’t doubt that but you’re avoiding me, babe. Just tell me what’s going on.”

You don’t know how to answer without being selfish. You know what Semi wants out of life and you had comes to terms with it. So why couldn’t you just let it go?

“I-I just...need time. To come to terms with the fact that we want different things in life.” If Semi was a crier, he would have right then and there. Watching the air leave your lungs in broken bubbles coming up as hiccups as you cried broke his heart.

“Do we? I just want you.”

For the first time in months, you didn’t pick up a bottle. After having dinner together, you finally got to be in the comfort of your loving, life partner.

Fast forward to present day—two months later you still indulge yourself in one glass of wine but no more bottles in the bathtub.

Semi’s thankful af for that 💀 even it wasn’t the ideal recovery

But he notices you’ve been waking up in the middle of the night to go throw up, and he’s starting to wonder if there were days you were sneaking them in.

“Eita, I swear I stopped doing that.” He’s giving you benefit of the doubt, trying to come up with other potential culprits.

There were days when you would PMS bad enough to make you sick.

But never for more than a few days—you were entering week 2.

“I’m calling the doctor,” he declares after you’d hurled for the third time that day. When he sees your hesitance, he adds, “I don’t think this is normal withdrawal. You never quit cold turkey, so I just wanna make sure you’re safe.”

Semi Eita’s intuition is both a blessing and a curse.

Blessing, in the sense that he was 100% right in regards to you needing to see a doctor.

Curse, because the two of you found out that you were pregnant. And while the two of you were doing much better than you were a few months ago, the “talk” about your future had never resurfaced.

“So, what are we going to do, Eita?”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to consolidate my studio to make room for a nursery and I’ll probably have to start working from home part time at least to help you out—“

“Wait, what?” Why did he make it sound like you were keeping the baby?

“Well I’m not gonna leave you to do this alone, [name]. It’s my kid too.”

“Semi-Semi, you don’t want kids.”

“Yeah, but I want you.” He sounds so sure, so confident, that you aren’t even sure if the man beside you is really your boyfriend. “And by association, that includes our baby.”

Futakuchi;

Oh my god.

Why—or rather how in the fuck did this happen to you?

Well, you know how it happened. You did have sex education when you were in high school, after all.

But you and Fukatuchi always used condoms—there was no room for negotiation on that.

Part of you wishes you would have broken off this hook up arrangement a long time ago

But you know you’re lying to yourself because the two of you just meshed so well.

Almost like a real couple, but you knew that a relationship was the last thing he wanted.

And now, you sat on your bathroom floor with your head buried on your knees after throwing the pregnancy test that revealed two little lines of positivity.

Well, fuck.

You start dodging his 2am calls, passing it off as you had a paper or a lab that you desperately needing to finish.

Kenji isn’t buying it. He knows you’re always on top of your schoolwork.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Comes a text in broad daylight—something comepletely atypical of Futakuchi.

Avoiding turns into ignoring as you’re almost three months pregnant.

To which he calls out with another text send before booty call hours. “Alright, this is getting ridiculous. Whoever you’re fucking now can’t be better than me. Just answer me and I’ll prove it.”

Blocked.

Another weak goes by and, surprisingly, your pregnancy has been relatively smooth. Even if it did suck going through it alone.

A part of you missed Futakuchi. Not that you’d ever tell him that. But you tried to tell yourself you missed the D and nothing else.

But you missed the way he’d hold you overnight, occasionally brushing hair out of your face almost endearingly. You missed the warmth, the lust fueled kisses that you swore were almost loving.

Only to remember he was always gone before you woke up. He was only a booty call, and you had to remind yourself of that.

So why the fuck was he at your doorstep in the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday?

“Why the fuck did you block me?” He snarls, barreling his way into your apartment. You were so thankful that you were wearing an oversized hoodie and that you weren’t showing that much yet. .

“Dude, get out. Obviously, I blocked you for a reason.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to get out of this so easily. You would have told me if you started seeing someone else—“ his wording slips, he knows it, but Futakuchi can’t bring himself to fix the statement.

“We weren’t seeing each other in the first place!” The words sting him like rubbing alcohol on a fresh wound.

You try to usher him out of the apartment but, thanks to you being 16 weeks along and much weaker than him, your efforts are futile.

“You’re so cute when you play hard to get.” He retorts, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you off the ground to carry you both out of the door way.

But as soon as he does, you’re immediately prying yourself away—fearful that he can feel your hardening belly. Fighting him off, however, seemed to make him squeeze harder. “Kenji, let me go! Fuck!”

He notices the use of his first name. He notices the flailing. But most of all, he noticed that your body felt different, even underneath the plush cloth of your hoodie.

He lets you go, unceremoniously dropping you into the ground out of shock because he finally is putting the pieces together. “You’re pregnant?”

“Get out, Kenji.”

“So you didn’t wanna see me because you’re pregnant? I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand the logic here,” his tone is snarky, painted with a vicious bite, “unless you were hooking up with someone else at the same time is me, there was no reason for you to keep this from me.”

But he knew that you weren’t. He knew by the way you’d clutch at his chest lovingly after sex that part of you longed for a real relationship with him.

And by the way it took everything in him to not stay through the morning, Kenji knew that somewhere along the lines, he wanted it too.

And he planned on telling you the last time he called, just before you started avoiding him.

“There was only you.” You answer quietly to the implied question.

“So, it’s mine.” He states bluntly. Losing your voice, you only nod. “You know,” he starts again slowly after you’ve both nodded off to a silent lull, “I started texting you in the middle of the day because I didn’t want you to think it was just about sex anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I actually wanted to give us a try, but I wasn’t sure if you’d break things off if you didn’t want to move forward, and I didn’t wanna risk finding out.”

“And now, instead, you’re finding out that you’re going to be a dad.”

💀💀💀 I-

Haikyuu!! Tag List - Let me know if you’d like to be added!

@hihiq​ @dreamyjaems @tamcitrus

[cowboyshit]

PART THREE OF ?

Previously: one, two Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Female OC (Hazel Baker) x Matt Jackson Summary: Rodeo/Cowboy AU - And just like that, fate has brought Hazel back to none other than Adam Page. Though last time they’d crossed paths he’d seemed eager to be rid of her company, Adam confesses the truth in his feelings for her and admits that he hasn’t forgotten her this entire time they’ve been apart. But now Hazel has serious feelings for Adam’s close friend, Matt... yet even she can’t deny that she has an indescribable connection with Adam that just can’t be ignored. Rating: explicit Length: 30,074 words Warnings: unprotected sex x2, angst, characters being idiots and not communicating their feelings properly... oh also probably some gratuitous horse knowledge no one cares about. you know, the usual.

author’s note: I wanted to get out this next part out as a holiday gift for all you amazing people who have been so encouraging about this series. I honestly can’t tell you how much your comments mean to me and how much pride and joy I feel at every little like or reblog or interaction with this fic series. At the start of 2020 I told myself this would be the year I finally wrote something that got to 50k words. I am proud to say with this installment Starlight is currently at 68k words, surpassing my goal. Hell, maybe it’s taken me an entire year to write it, but still, I did it! Now my next goal for 2021? Actually finish a story for once - this story. I have the outline planned and I can’t begin to explain to all of you how much your support and encouragement keeps me going to get the rest of this story out there. Anyways! Long note out of the way, I just want to sincerely thank you guys for your support of this fic series. It really means the world to me. Oh also - yeah... things are about to get VERY messy in this fic.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her.

Four months. Sixteen weeks. After barely an evening of talking, if even. After inches away from a kiss, never quite knowing what that touch would have felt like. Something told him – kept telling him – it would have been life-changing. Some nights he was grateful he didn’t know; some nights it tormented his sleep, left him kicking and twisting as he turned this way and that, grunting in irritation as he wished sleep would be a reprieve from her memory.

Prone to worrying, there were times he wondered if he was building her up into something she wasn’t. Maybe she wasn’t as pretty as he remembered her being. A soft, round face; brown eyes that he could almost guarantee must be covered by a film of gold in the sunlight; silky, dark brown hair that made his fingers itch like mad to curl around and comb through; a body that begged for his palms to frame the natural pinch of her hips; a smile that made him catch his breath, that made him feel like the leading man in one of those old romance movies his mama used to watch.

No, she was beautiful, though it wasn’t her physical beauty that clung her to his memory. It was that feeling of being with someone he suddenly wasn’t afraid to talk with, who he willingly found himself opening up to before he remembered he hated opening up to people. The way he couldn’t stop smiling every time their eyes met, as though their souls shared a secret.

Maybe she would have stopped haunting him, were it not nearly every weekend he heard her name. He should have been prepared for the consequence of bowing out to Matt’s interest in her, but he wasn’t. Couldn’t be. Nothing like this had ever happened to him. As Matt talked about her at the rodeos with his brother, with Kenny, it was nothing pointed or directed specifically at Adam. If anything, it seemed Matt forgot altogether there’d been an energy between Hazel and Adam, and Nick seemed to never broach the subject of how close Adam had been with her when he found them.

But sometimes when Matt laughed on the phone with her after a run, and Adam’s fingers tightened on whatever he was holding, Nick would look at him and it almost seemed sympathetic. Maybe Adam was projecting. Maybe he just wanted someone to know the pain he was quietly suffering, not understanding how to see himself through it, adding to the pile of other anxieties and circling thoughts that spun around and around inside his head every day. At any rate, Nick would always side with his brother, time and time again. So why would he feel bad for Adam?

It’ll go away eventually. That’s what he kept telling himself. You’re just lonely. It’d been awhile. He kept to himself, but even he was only human, even he felt an aching need for companionship here and again, however temporary. Go to a bar, get drunk, find someone to hook-up with. You’ll forget about her soon. It would work, but only for a night, and only because he drank enough to forget everything but his name. Sometimes he even forgot that. He’d be left with the lingering feeling of thinking he was some sort of ass, going out and using another person for his personal vice like they were something disposable for him and had no thoughts or feelings of their own. Everyone said he was such a good person, but how could he be when he did things like that?

It’ll go away…

It’ll go away…

It’ll go away…

Then, like magic, there she was. Standing not but four feet in front of him. Breathing the same air as him.

And God, her brown eyes did look softly glittered in gold as the sun hit them. He sucked in a sharp breath and blinked, breaking through the surface from dream into reality.

“Hi,” she said, and her voice was soft. Her eyes danced between his and he would have given anything to know what she was thinking. He wanted to reach out, put his hands on hers and pull her in toward him so he could cover her lips with his and finally know what she tasted like.

“Hello,” he said.

Something shifted in his peripherals and hit him like a splash of cold water. He jerked and glanced to his left, seeing a woman he didn’t recognize watching them with a peculiar expression across her face.

It seemed Hazel did the same.

“Oh!” She gasped, startled, “Adam, this is my friend, Rosie.”

Rosie’s red-painted lips spread into a smile and there seemed a light in her eyes as she walked forward to accept his handshake. “The Adam?” She asked, with a tone that clearly indicated she’d heard about him before. Clearly from Hazel.

 “Uh, I guess that must be me? Adam Page.” He supplied with a small, awkward laugh and hoped his cheeks weren’t too hot. “Rosie, it’s a pleasure.” He glanced from Rosie to Hazel before he’d even slipped his fingers from their cordial handshake. She’d talked about him. What had she said?

Probably that he was an ass, considering their last interaction together.

Somewhere among his racing thoughts he found the manners he’d been raised with. “My friend Adam is over by the arena, if you want to wait with him while I take Hazel to look at the horses and see which one she wants to ride first.” He didn’t need to separate them; Rosie could easily come along with Hazel too.

But he wanted – no, needed – to talk to Hazel alone.

“Your friend's name is Adam too?” Hazel asked, and he heard a brief note of amusement in her tone. “Doesn’t that get a little confusing?”

“Sometimes,” he laughed. “If it makes it easier, you can call him ‘Hey asshole’ too, he’ll probably answer to it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rosie said as he directed her down the path toward the arena, where they’d meet in a moment and then, finally, he and Hazel were alone. He glanced down at her profile and felt the knot in his stomach tighten. He swallowed thick, Adam’s apple bobbing, and cleared his throat a little weakly.

“The horses are this way,” he said, voice trailing off. It clearly wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he was struggling with where to even begin. Maybe he would sort himself out on the walk through the barn to where he’d left the first prospect in crossties. Hazel fell in step beside him and he watched her get distracted taking his property in. Did she like it? He looked around where her eyes were falling and wondered what she was noticing. He loved his home; it was the sanctuary he had built for himself and the one place he felt completely and totally in control.

“I saw Dolly out in the front pasture,” she said, glancing up at him and nearly making him stumble over his boots.

“Yeah! I have her out grazing today, letting her be a little lazy.” He smiled and Hazel smiled too. “Actually,” he started, voice bouncing around with a soft echo as they stepped inside his fourteen-stall main barn. “The first mare you’re going to look at is Dolly’s full-blooded younger sister. She’s about four years younger than Dolly; just turned four this last April.”

“Oh! I can’t wait to see her.” She said, and her voice sounded honest enough that it warmed him somewhere, seeing how taken she was with Dolly. “Your barn is beautiful,” she sighed as they passed the third stall. He’d noticed she’d been peeking in curiously through the black-iron bars to each one they passed to look at the horse inside if there was one.

“Thank you,” he said, and felt himself straighten his posture a little proudly. “I sank most of my first- and second-year’s earnings into getting this whole place redone. Tore down the old barn, paid to have this one constructed. Did the same to the hay barn and the mare hotel and boarding barn out back. Put in a new sprinkler system for the pastures, repaired the fencing, leveled out the arena and trucked in a good dirt-sand blend for it…” He realized he was rambling and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you… probably don’t care about any of that.”

“No!” She said, quickly, and her smile seemed a little shy. “I mean, yes. I do, actually. I’m kind of a nerd for all of this stuff.” She ducked her head and laughed. “When I couldn’t physically be around horses anymore, I found other ways to try and be involved with them, which mainly meant playing online games where you owned virtual horses and virtual stables.”

A grin cracked over his mouth. “Wow, you really are a horse geek, huh?”

Her smile was a full-on beam of sunshine, it was so bright and struck him so warmly. “Shut up,” she said, but it was chased by a laugh. He found himself laughing too.

There were only a few steps left until they would reach the big, open, padded space with a drain and hose hook-up where he’d secured the little gold mare in crossties as he groomed her this morning in preparation. A few more steps until they’d talk about the horse, about riding, he’d see if she wanted to tack up and ride her around the arena before he pointed out the other two and checked if she wanted to ride them, too.

Only a few steps before he may lose his chance to say all those things he wanted – no, needed – to say.

“Hey,” he started, stopping suddenly in his tracks. She stopped a pace later, turning around and frowning up at him. “Look, I know this might not be necessary but, I need to apologize to you.” Those words were hard to get out. They felt thick like molasses on his tongue, but he pushed through anyways. He saw her confusion deepen and explained. “I was an ass to you last time we talked and there was no reason for it.”

“Oh,” she breathed, and suddenly he knew she was there in that place with him. No longer were they tiptoeing around the past, he’d been brave enough to force them to look right at it, because he couldn’t take not addressing it. 

“Hey, look, it’s alright.” She was being nice.

“No, it’s not.” He said, firmly. “I uh… look, I can be a piece of shit sometimes - that’s not an excuse or anything - but the way I talked to you…” He felt like he was fumbling. How was he supposed to apologize without telling her why it was so important that he did? That he couldn’t live another day knowing that was her last impression of him?

He knew she was Matt’s girl… but Matt never had problems getting girls, did he? Couldn’t Adam have this one?

He forced himself to meet her eyes when his nerves wanted him to look anywhere else and the next thing he knew, he was talking and saying things he never would have thought himself brave enough to say.

“I like you, Hazel. I liked you from the minute I saw you talking to Dolly. I liked you so much it scared me. Hell, scares me, even. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, not once. I know that’s crazy to say, we barely know each other, but it’s been runnin’ me in circles and I kept telling myself if fate ever put me back in front of you with the chance to say it, I couldn’t let the moment go. I’m sorry I was such a dick. Matt…” He trailed off.

How was he supposed to explain the man who was one of his closest friends, damn near a brother, was also inadvertently a manufacturer of his personal insecurities? That he knew every flex of Matt’s ego – be it winning another championship or getting the girls at the rodeo to fawn over him – wasn’t a direct attack against his worth, but it still stung like it was.

“Look,” He sucked in a breath and shook his head, “my point is that I really like you, and that sort of scared me, and I got in my head over everything when you and Matt started talking and I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair.”

She was staring at him. He wasn’t sure if it was for a few seconds or three hours, it felt like it must’ve been an eternity. He noticed every change in her expression, the way her brows dipped in and her eyes seemed to get bigger, or how her full, pretty lips pressed together and she seemed to worry at the inner corner of the bottom one. Those lips...

Then he was leaning. Forgetting himself. Forgetting she was Matt’s girl, closing the space between them, and finally… God, finally… putting his mouth on hers.

 **********

He was kissing her.

Hazels eyelids fluttered closed, mouth yielding to his. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as she did, and then suddenly their touch was changing. His wide, warm palms found her shoulders and pushed her back until she was pressed against the wood paneling, their kiss never breaking.

A small, needy noise crawled out of her throat, suffocated in their mouths. He must have heard it, though, for how he turned his head and kissed her harder, one hand sliding away from her arm and cupping her breast over her shirt and bra. He squeezed, running his thumb back and forth and making her ache for his touch on her bare body. The clothes between them were suddenly an absolute nuisance; she wanted to feel the tingles spread from every skin-on-skin touch.

He finally broke away from her mouth only to attack her neck with just as much pent up passion, the little coarse blond hairs of his close-shaved beard scratching her skin. Hazel tipped her head back and looked up at the rafters, head spinning with delirious delight. His knee pressed between her legs and they fell apart, easily. He crowded in closer and rubbed what was quickly growing hard and long in his jeans against her thigh.

“Adam,” she groaned, fingers reaching for the hair tie he had securing his curls in a bun, undoing it, burying in to shake the curls loose and holding him against her skin. She encouraged his tasting, fingers curling around the textured strands of his honey blond hair. His tongue swept down the line of the v-neck collar of her soft cotton tee, teeth nipping at her soft, supple cleavage.

Warmth as he slipped his fingers under her shirt, nearly making her jump at the sensation of his calloused fingertips brushing up her bare skin. Those fingers wiggled and pressed greedily beneath the elastic stretch of her bra and he groaned against her skin as his palm fondled her breast, her nipple hardening against his touch as he squeezed. The sound vibrated out of him, his body was so tight, so tense pressed up against her.

She was the one who found sense first, and she wanted to damn herself for it.

“Adam,” she panted, eyes opening fully on the fact that they were in the hall of his barn, his hand up her shirt and his mouth on her skin, his bulge pressed and rubbing her thigh. He didn’t hear her, tongue sweeping over the dip of her clavicle. “Adam, wait,” she said, fingers curling a little tighter in his curls and tugging back to regrettably pull his mouth from her skin.

He blinked passion-fogged eyes at her, a man caught in a trance, then seemed all at once to realize their precarious position. 

“Matt.” He exhaled in a heavy, almost angry breath.

“What?” she blinked. 

“Matt.” He said again, and the look in his dark green-blue eyes seemed to harden.

Fuck, right, Matt. One of his close friends. Her… whatever he was to her. Hazel licked her lips and tasted Adam.

“No,” she said, even knowing that probably should have been more than enough of a reason for them to stop. “Rosie and your friend,” she said, “what if they come looking for us?”

He blinked and that same waking-to-reality look that she’d had crossed his face. She slid her fingers out of his hair. “Damnit,” he muttered the curse under his breath and slipped his palm from her skin, out of her shirt, and she felt so much colder without his touch. He peeled himself away from her, but stood close, chin dipped to that broad chest and eyes full of her.

Kissing him was like… being caught in a whirlwind. Her eyes fell to his mouth and it took everything in her not to tell him fuck it, be quick.

“We’re not dating,” she blurted out to distract herself from how badly she wanted him to turn her around, tug her pants down and have her up against the stall wall.

He frowned. “Uh…”

“Not you and me,” she blinked and refocused on his eyes. “Matt. I’m not dating Matt.”

“Oh,” he said, and she couldn’t infer anything from his tone or expression, so she found herself talking more.

“We’re going to figure things out at the end of the rodeo season.”

He made a noise in his throat to signify he understood and drug his boot a heavy step away from her.

“Adam, I…” she wanted to be as open and vulnerable as he’d been. She wanted to tell him she hadn’t stopped thinking about him, that she watched live streams of his rides and cheered for him. She wanted to tell him that she had never met anyone who affected her the way he did, and she wasn’t sure what to think of that. But things were complicated, and they’d left their friends alone long enough. 

Hazel drew in a breath and shook her head, pushing from the stall wall he’d had her up against and pulling her shirt to set it right. “We should get to the horses.” She chickened out.

“Right,” he agreed, bending to pick up the hair tie she’d dropped, and she wished he wasn’t so difficult to read. What was going on in that head of his? From the way he’d treated her the last time they saw one another she’d have never imagined he felt the way he’d confessed to her. His fingers raked his hair back up and she tried not to pay attention to the shapely muscles in his arms. He caught her eyes and a sheepish grin curled the corners of his lips, staying until his hands had dropped and he nodded ahead.

“Hazel, I’d like to introduce you to Daisy,” he said as they stepped where the walls opened, and a pretty little golden mare was standing patiently in crossties. She perked her ears as they came around and lifted her head, watching them with curious, deep brown eyes.

“Adam, she’s beautiful,” Hazel’s breath hitched as she moved toward her, stretching out her hand so the mare could brush her velvet, whiskered lips over it and inhale her scent. She had a broken white blaze on her face, giving her the appearance of both a star and a blaze, and her coat was slightly darker than her older sister’s. She had no white on her legs like Dolly did and was just a little bit smaller.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said warmly. “I’ve never put Daisy on the barrels, but I think she has the right build for it.”

Hazel nodded, slipping beneath one of the leads so she could run her hand along the mare’s neck, over her wither and down her back. “She has a short back, which is good.” Hazel swept her palm down the mare’s belly and along her underside. “And a long undercarriage, which means she’ll have a wide stretch when she pulls away.” She ran her hand up down her hindquarters and felt how solid and stacked with muscle they were. There was a lot of power in this mare.  “I could definitely see her on the barrels if she decides she has the attitude for them.”

“Yeah?” He seemed just as excited as she was, and when she looked over at him, she saw he was smiling. For a few drawn out seconds they smiled at one another before he cleared his throat and blinked. “Let me go grab some tack and we’ll get her saddled so you can try her out.”

“Okay,” Hazel said, smiling and turning back to the mare as he left for the tack room. Once he was out of her line of sight, she exhaled low, working through the nerves that were storming through her. She lifted her hand and placed her palm on Daisy’s neck. The mare blew a soft breath through her nose and flicked an ear back, pointing it at Hazel. It made Hazel smile, like Daisy was already ready to listen to whatever Hazel needed to talk about.

“You’re a pretty girl,” Hazel murmured and curled her fingers, gently scratching the mare’s neck. She worked her way down to the top of her wither and Daisy stretched her neck out, clearly enjoying the rub. Hazel laughed gently and glanced as Adam came back with a saddle over one arm and the bridle and bit hanging off the horn.

“You two seem to be getting on,” he said with a grin, setting the saddle down and grabbing the bridle, stepping toward Daisy’s head.

“Here,” she offered, “Let me.” She stepped forward to take the bridle, slipping the headstall over Daisy’s ears before unclipping the leads from the halter she was wearing and unbuckling its clasp, slipping it off her face so it could be replaced with the bridle. As she gently offered the bit against the mare’s lips, Adam hefted the saddle and pad up and walked it around to the mare’s other side, swinging it over her back.

“She takes her tack politely,” Hazel commented as Daisy let her slip the bit into her mouth without complaint.

“She’s a well-behaved little lady,” Adam said, pulling the cinch on the saddle and buckling it up. “Especially for a young mare. She might’ve been the easiest horse I’ve ever trained. She has a sound mind, just like her sister.”

With Hazel holding the reins they started walking out of the barn, toward the arena. She glanced over at Adam and smiled when she saw he was looking at her. She looked away, biting into her grin to try and keep it from spreading. Her head was spinning with everything he’d told her; with the taste of him still on her lips; with her body aching, remembering how nice his touch had felt.

When they were out of the stable, she put her boot in the stirrup and swung her leg over, settling in the saddle. He helped her adjust the stirrups to the right length and tilted his head up to look at her, his palm resting on Daisy’s shoulder. The late afternoon sun glittered across his face and shone in his eyes. They looked greener today than blue, pale and soft, like the grass in a meadow, early morning with the fog crawling gently over it.

Hazel gathered the reins in her hands and gave a soft click under her tongue, squeezing her knees and getting Daisy to walk. Adam fell in place, walking beside them as they rounded the bend in the path that led out to a large arena. She could see Rosie standing with a man toward the end of the arena. That must’ve been Adam’s friend. He was lean, with brown hair that rested at shoulder-length, a black cowboy hat tipped back on the top of his head while he’d talked with her. He was smiling as he gestured with his hands, clearly telling Rosie some story, and she could hear Rosie’s sweet giggles from where they stood. They seemed to be enjoying one another’s company.

Adam put a boot up on the bottom panel of the arena fence and leaned his forearms on the top. He nodded to the inside of the arena. “Go ahead, see how you two get on.”

Hazel smiled and added a little more pressure with her knees, asking for a trot. Daisy obliged, moving into the bouncy gait as they made their way inside the arena. Everything slipped away as Hazel started to ride. She focused on the way the horse responded to her, heart lifting at how easy and eager Daisy seemed to take commands despite them not knowing one another. A small pull on the reins and weight added to her other side had the mare switching leads and leaning in where requested, which was a good sign that she’d be easy to train to curl around a barrel. Hazel squeezed her knees again and clicked her tongue, bringing the little mare up to a lope and then to a gallop. They circled around the wide arena three times, and Hazel felt like Daisy could have kept going. By the time she sat her weight back in the saddle and pulled up the reins she was grinning ear to ear.

“You two look good out there,” Adam called out from where he stood. Rosie and his friend, the other Adam, had made their way down the fence line to join him as she rode.

Hazel grinned as she gently rubbed Daisy’s neck, a little warm to the touch. She got the mare walking again to help cool her down. “She responds amazingly.”

 “I’ve never had too much of a problem on her,” Adam remarked from where he was leaning. “Think she’ll do alright on barrels?”

Hazel didn’t even have to think before she nodded and said, “Yeah! She’s quick, and when I asked her to change lead, she did it with ease.” Hazel pulled the reins and stopped her near the fence line where everyone was standing. “She’s small, and fast. I wasn’t even pushing her as hard as I could. I could tell she had a little more give in her.” Hazel glanced over at Rosie. “What do you think of her, Rosie?”

“She’s beautiful,” Rosie said, reaching out to gently scratch the little mare’s forehead. “What do you think of her?”

Hazel looked at the three expectant faces looking up at her and grinned. “Honestly? I think I’m in love with her.” Her eyes slid to Adam’s and he smiled so bright and open she felt like her heart skipped in her chest.

“You sure you don’t want to try out the other two?”

“You tell me,” she said, shifting in the saddle as the leather gently creaked. She let Daisy have her head, reins going slack as she dropped her arms.

“Gunner has a bit of a stubborn streak and will fight you for fun until you get him to mind his manners. I’m sure he’d make a fast little barrel horse and probably love doing it, but he isn’t going to mind you as easily as she does.” He reached over the fence and fondly patted Daisy’s neck, fingers ruffling her cream-white mane. “The other one I had thought for you to try is Cat. He’s a bit more docile than Gunner, but he’s young and doesn’t have as much experience under the saddle. I barely started him a few months ago. Out of the three, I think you’re going to like this girl best.”

Hazel nodded, grinning. “I think I agree.” Elation in her chest. “I’d love to buy her.”

Adam’s grin matched hers. “I’d love to sell her to you. Come on, let’s get her cooled down and we’ll figure out getting her a vet check before we transport her to your property.”

She nodded and pressed with her inside knee, pulling the reins wide, guiding Daisy to turn around and walk toward the open entrance of the arena. Hazel couldn’t believe it. The little pretty golden mare she was riding was hers. Or, going to be, once all the paperwork was finalized and so on. Finally, she had a horse again. Tears pricked hot in her eyes and she gave her head a little shake, thankful she was too far from the group for them to see. She blinked them out of her eyes and laughed softly, leaning to rub her palm along Daisy’s neck before giving her a few firm pats. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together, Daisy.” She promised the mare in a whisper, still smiling when she rode around the bend in the path and met up with everyone near the barn.

She pulled her boot from the stirrup and swung her leg over the mare’s back, dismounting with a soft little thud into the dirt below. Pulling the reins over Daisy’s head, she fell in step with Adam as he led them back into the barn. Rosie and the other Adam (Hazel still thought that was amusing) walked along with them, which meant they weren’t going to get a chance to be alone again. Hazel’s eyes darted to Adam’s, they met, and both their lips curled into smiles.

They stopped in the wide hall of the barn; Rosie being shown around by Adam’s friend since she hadn’t seen the inside of it. He seemed happy to introduce her to the horses and she could hear Rosie’s compliments on how beautiful each horse was that they passed. She smiled over at Adam.

“Your friend is sweet.”

“Cole?” Adam snorted, but she could tell it was good humored. “He has y’all fooled.”

She laughed and Adam reached out for the reins, which Hazel handed over. She wasn’t sure if he purposefully moved his hand or not, but his fingers bumped into hers and slid slowly across her skin as she released them. Hazel took a breath and turned to gently give Daisy a few more scratches, grateful for the distraction. Adam let the reins drop, and she was pleasantly surprised to see Daisy simply stood by, not trying to wander off once she had the freedom to do so.

“Is she registered?”

“Yeah, AQHA. The name on her papers is Dun n Daisy Dukes.”

Hazel laughed. “That’s adorable.”

“Thank you, I was pretty proud of myself for that one.” Adam was grinning as he pulled the heavy saddle from her back and set it out of the way, propping it and the saddle blanket up against the nearby stall wall.

“She and Dolly must have some Hollywood Dun It in their bloodlines I’m guessing?”

“They do,” Adam sounded surprised she knew. 

“Remember? I’m a horse geek.” Hazel smiled. “I know the prominent AQHA stallions and I know it’s tradition to register their names with something carrying over from their parents. If Daisy is registered as Dun n Daisy Dukes and Dolly is registered as Lil Dun Dolly, I’d imagine they carried the Hollywood Dun It in their names.”

Adam whistled low, his brows lifting. “Well damn, if you know AQHA studs that well, you’ll be happy to know they’ve got Flit Bar lines on their dam’s side. Fire Water Flit is their great grandsire.”

At that, Hazel’s eyes widened. Fire Water Flit and his sire Flit Bar were two very prominent barrel racing studs. Their offspring had gone on to win a ridiculous amount of barrel racing championships. “Okay, you could have led with that and I probably would have been sold on her.” Their soft laughs joined together as Adam patted Dee’s neck and gathered the reins of the bridle up again, starting to walk her toward her stable.

“How soon do you think the vet check will be?” She asked, then added, “Not that I’m trying to rush you. I’m just excited.”

“Understandable.” He smiled at her. “My vet’s pretty good, I should be able to get her out here this week. Unless you have a vet you would rather I use?”

“No, I trust you.”

“Okay, I’ll text you as soon as I know what day she’s available to come out. Do you have a trailer?”

“I don’t,” Hazel frowned. “I guess I could rent one.”

“Don’t bother,” Adam waved his hand, “I can bring her to you.”

“Are you sure? That’s a six-hour drive.”

“I’d like to see her off to her new home”

Rosie and his friend were making their way back toward them as they put Daisy up in her stall. Adam unclipped the buckles of her bridle and slipped it over her head, stepping out and sliding the door behind him before he latched it shut.

“Okay,” Hazel agreed, and realized almost immediately this meant Adam would be coming to her house. Should she have someone over with her that day? How could she be both excited and terrified with how he made her feel? What would Matt think? Sure, he’d said they weren’t dating, but that didn’t mean her feelings for him vanished into thin air. If the two of them didn’t know one another, it might be a different story, but with Adam and Matt being friends she wasn’t certain that was a sort of drama she should invite into her life.

“We’re all set then. When the vet finds her sound, we’ll discuss a price.”

“Okay!” She grinned and looked through the black iron bars at the cute little gold mare in the stall. “I can’t believe this little beauty might be mine soon. I really do adore her, Adam.”

“I can tell.” There was a warmth in his voice and when she glanced up at him, saw he was watching her, and his eyes matched his tone. “She likes you too.” There was something in his expression that made her breath catch.

Rosie’s giggles drifted near, and when Hazel turned to look, she saw the other pair were doubling back around. Her eyes slipped back to Adam’s just as his did, and it seemed they had an unspoken moment of realizing there was still so much to say, but time had run out. Hazel decided then and there if things worked out and Adam was going to bring Daisy to her, she wouldn’t have anyone at the house. She’d meet him alone.

She felt excited.

She felt guilty.

“Hazel, you gotta give this girl some tune-up on her riding. I think she’s got a cowgirl heart.” Adam’s friend was grinning as the pair came near enough for him to talk. Hazel glanced over at them, seeing up close the blue of his eyes that seemed almost merry with how bright they were, looking down at Rosie. Rosie had a pink blush in her fair cheeks and a wide smile on her cherry-red lipstick painted lips. Hazel had to fight to keep from smiling too obviously. They were adorable, and Rosie was clearly into him.

“I think you might be right.” Hazel agreed with a smile. There was a sudden buzz in her pocket, and she blinked, tugging her phone out and glancing at the screen. The notification banner showed her she’d gotten a text from Matt. 

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

Hey, when do you think you’ll be home tonight?

Hazel started to type out a reply after she’d glanced at the clock and calculated how long they’d be driving and when they might leave here. Adam’s friend took over the conversation as she went quiet, asking Adam about one of his mares and pulling him away from watching her closely.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Not until 10PM or so it looks like. We just put the mare up, so I’ll probably be leaving back home soon. Why???

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

FaceTime? I want to see you when you talk about the horse you saw today. I want to see that smile. ❤️

A fond smile crept across her lips and a sweet ache hit her chest. Their communication had felt off when they talked last weekend when she’d told him about finishing the stable. Since then, they’d texted and even talked, but every time they did, Hazel had felt like there was something lingering in the air between them. Eventually she’d written it off as her paranoia that he’d been upset she’d hired a company to finish the barn without telling him. Once she’d told him she was going to look at a horse, he’d gotten excited for her. Now he wanted to FaceTime so he could see her smile when she talked about the horse she saw.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Yeah, okay! I’ll let you know when I get in. I have to drop Rosie off at home first. Can’t wait to tell you about the mare!

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

I can’t wait to hear all about her. Talk to you later 😘

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Okay 😊 😘

Hazel glanced up from her phone to see everyone talking about the horses. However, when she slid her phone back into her pocket, Adam immediately glanced her way. Her smile felt nervous and she hoped it didn’t look it before she glanced over at Rosie and smiled.

“You driving home tonight?” Adam asked as the conversation slowed to a stop.

“Yeah, which means we should probably get on the road soon.” The slight hint of regret that chased her tone wasn’t forced as she slid her eyes back to his.

“Aww, that’s too bad,” his friend drawled, “I’ve enjoyed the company.” 

Rosie, beside him, blushed.

“Much better than Page’s, that’s for sure.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I don’t see how you couldn’t like my company, Cole. You talk about a hundred miles a minute; I’d be lucky to get a word in edgewise the entire time you’re here.”

“He does talk a lot, doesn’t he?” Rosie said, playfully thoughtful as she squinted up at Cole. Teasing.

He gasped in offense as he looked at her with surprise, and her giggles shortly followed. Hazel was smiling; Adam was too. Their eyes met and their smiles softened. There was no talking over what’d happened between them earlier in the barn. She’d escaped having to tell her feelings.

Hazel knew that wasn’t fair to him, especially after he’d bared his heart so openly to her.

“You drive safe, alright?” Adam said softly, Rosie and his friend were occupied with their teasing and laughter as they headed out of the barn back toward Hazel’s truck. He reached to gently rest his hand on her lower back as they turned to follow their friends out of the barn. His palm fell away and he cleared his throat. 

“Yeah,” she said, trailing off as her steps seemed to drag. His did too.

“I’ll try and get my vet out to look her over soon. When she’s clear we can talk details. I’m really glad you liked her.”

They stopped right outside the barn and turned toward one another. 

“I really do.” She said on an exhale, smile spreading across her face.

“I’m glad you’re riding again, too. Especially barrels; what you’re passionate about.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. Behind her she heard the truck start up and, glancing over her shoulder, saw Rosie in the driver’s seat, window rolled down as she talked to Cole, who was leaning on the truck door and giving a wide, charming, happy grin up at her. Hazel looked forward again, up at Adam. “I’ll… talk to you later?”

“Yeah,” he said, and his gaze dropped to her lips. He took a slight breath and looked back at her eyes. Hazel felt flush. She licked her lips and swallowed against the sudden jump in her pulse. “Goodbye, Hazel. I’m…” his blond brows pinched. “I’m happy it was you today.”

“I’m happy it was you, too.” She said, sotto voce. 

“You better go on before they get suspicious.” He said with a wry smile, nodding toward their friends.

“Yeah, I guess I better… bye Adam.”

“Bye darlin’.” He breathed a regretful sigh, eyes meeting hers. She had a feeling all he’d wanted to do was grab her up against him and kiss her dizzy like they’d done earlier. 

She wanted him to do that too.

Instead, Hazel gave her a little half-wave and turned around to walk to the passenger side of her truck, climbing in the cab and buckling up as Cole nodded and said goodbye to Rosie, stepping back so they could take off. Hazel watched Adam’s figure grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror until they drove too far down the drive to see him. She sighed, shoulders dropping.

“Okay,” Rosie said as they stopped before turning on the main road, “we have six hours, and I have a lot to tell you, but you need to tell me everything about what happened when you and Adam were alone.”

Hazel groaned and pressed her hands over her eyes, dragging them down and blinking at Rosie. “Things just got really fucking complicated, that’s what happened.”

Rosie turned onto the main road to begin their drive and Hazel told her everything that had happened and everything Adam had confessed.

“When he was kissing me, I completely forgot about Matt. It wasn’t until Adam brought him up when we stopped that I suddenly remembered. I feel awful.”

“What are you going to do about Matt?” Rosie asked curiously.

“I don’t know. We’re not actually dating, right? Matt made that pretty clear. He doesn’t want to talk about it until the rodeo season is over in December. So… I’m technically single? But they’re friends. They know each other. Closely!”

“And what happens in December if Matt says he wants to exclusively date you? Or what happens before December if Adam tells you he’d exclusively date you now?”

Hazel swallowed and shook her head slowly. “I honestly don’t know.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, Hazel. Cause you know if either of those men hurt you, I’ll whoop them.”

Despite the fact Rosie was a sweetheart through and through, Hazel did not doubt her ability to become a tough little firecracker in her defense. It made Hazel laugh as she nodded. “I know you will. That’s why I love you.” The girls shared a smile before Hazel continued. “I know it isn’t the smart thing to do, but I think I’m just going to keep letting the cards fall where they do. I’ll have to tell Matt tonight the mare is Adam’s, and maybe I’ll just tell him what happened.”

“And if he gets upset and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore?”

“Well,” she had a sinking feeling in her gut, “I guess that’s his fault for not wanting to try being with me when I offered. Or my fault for kissing Adam? I don’t know.”

“I’ll leave my phone ringer on when I sleep tonight if you need an emergency best friend conversation.”

“A true friend,” Hazel said fondly. “Which I’m not being, speaking of… you still need to tell me about Mr. Handsome Cowboy you were flirting up a storm with.”

Rosie grinned and even though it was dark in the cab, Hazel swore she could see a little blush in her cheeks.

“Oh, the other Adam?”

“Mhm,” Hazel said, grinning.

“He’s a flirt.” She rolled her eyes. “I saw right through him within five minutes of us talking. But… he’s cute. He got really excited to tell me about bull riding when I told him I’d never watched it. Didn’t make me feel dumb for not knowing, you know?”

“Yeah,” Hazel said, smiling. 

“He asked me for my number.”

“He did?!” 

“Yeah! When he was leanin’ on the truck and you were talking to your Adam.”

“And? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“What? Why?” Hazel sat up and frowned at Rosie.

“He’s pry a womanizer. Doesn’t actually care about me, you know? Just flirts with any girl he sees.”

“He didn’t flirt with me,” Hazel pointed out.

“That’s because any fool with eyes could see the hearts Adam had in his eyes every time he looked at you.”

She flushed at that.

“I don’t know. He was cute but, I definitely felt like that attraction wasn’t as authentic for him as it was for me, you know?”

Hazel hummed under her breath. “I don’t know about that, he looked pretty into you as far as I could see. Hey, maybe you’ll get a chance to see him again in the future, given that I’m apparently seeing Adam again.”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t mind seeing him again. He is really damn cute.”

“He is,” Hazel agreed with a laugh.

They arrived at Rosie’s house first and, after a goodbye and a hug, Hazel climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled her phone out while she was still parked. She yawned and clicked through to the text messages between her and Matt.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Just dropped Rosie off, I’ll be home in about twenty minutes!

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

Sounds good babe.

She smiled and clicked to black the screen out, tossing it gently into the passenger’s seat and pulling the truck out of the driveway. How was she going to tell him about what happened between her and Adam?

“I should just be forward,” she muttered out loud to herself, frowning at the road in front of her. “I should just tell him like, look, Matt, you remember when Adam and I came up to the fire when we first met? I had almost kissed Adam earlier that night and I do have feelings for him. Today he told me he has feelings for me, and we kissed.” She swallowed and exhaled.

“Jesus, I can’t tell him that. Hey, Matt, turns out the horse is Adam’s, you know, one of your super close friends? Also turns out he and I have intense feelings for one another, and we made out and he touched my boob! Okay see ya later bye!”

Hazel choked on a laugh that was followed by a groan and a heavy sigh.

“Hazel, you idiot.” She scolded herself under her breath, turning her truck into her drive. She rolled to a stop and parked, turning the key in the ignition to shut the engine off and sit in the silence of the cab as she glanced at her unlit house.

She’d pick Carson and Callahan up tomorrow from the pet sitter’s, it was too late to get them now. It’d be weird to spend the night completely alone in the house. Hazel swallowed against that feeling and grabbed her bag, climbing out of the truck and locking it behind her as she pulled her house key free and jogged up the porch steps. Hopefully she’d be tired by the time she and Matt got done talking and be able to just go right to sleep. She had traveled for twelve hours and ridden, after all.

Hazel pushed the door open and locked it behind her, tossing the keys onto the catch-all that sat on the little table in the foyer, entering her house and flipping lights on as she walked through. Her purse was discarded on the couch and she tugged her phone from her pocket, tapping a message to Matt as she wandered into her room.

 TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Home! Let me shower really quick. Give me twenty? 😊

She underhand tossed the phone onto her bed and bent to tug her boots off, straightening as she pulled her shirt over her head and went for her bra. A sigh of relief followed unclasping the back-strap and she shrugged out of it as she went for the drawer full of big, soft, comfortable shirts to sleep in. She tugged the lavender one free and opened another drawer to grab a pair of white little sleep-shorts. Holding them in one hand she pulled her jeans and panties off, leaving a trail of discarded clothes as she made for her bathroom.

Hazel showered quick and the warm water felt like a luxury against her muscles that’d likely be sore tomorrow. She shut her mind free of the confusing thoughts circling it and the anxiety of what would happen when she told Matt what’d happened with Adam, or how she was going to broach that topic at all. It was refreshing to dry off and feel clean, too, and she closed her eyes as she towel dried her hair, enjoying it for a moment. 

When she opened her eyes, she could see her reflection looking back at her and shook her head, laughing dryly to herself. “Six months ago, I swore I was never going to date again, now here I am getting caught between two men.” No, that had definitely never been the plan. Hazel rolled her eyes at herself and set the towel aside, grabbing for her pajamas and tugging them on. 

Was it unfair for her to try and casually be with them both, unknowingly, for a moment? If she told Adam she wasn’t ready to be exclusive with him because she still didn’t know whether she and Matt were going to agree to date in December, would he be okay with that? Would he still want to see her, when she told him she’d like to explore their feelings? Could she tell Matt? Was it wrong for her not to include him? If Adam knew and she knew, it wasn’t fair that Matt didn’t know the whole picture, too.

Question upon question were piling up. She shook her head and grabbed her phone, stomach turning as she walked out of her room toward the kitchen for a water. Her phone started to ring just as she got to the fridge. Balancing the phone in one hand she slid to answer the call, smiling as Matt popped up on the screen.

“Hey!” She said.

“There you are,” he said, and grinned. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“It’s been awhile since we’ve FaceTimed,” she agreed, opening a nearby cabinet to grab a glass and get water from the spout on the fridge.

“It has,” he said. “So? How was the horse?”

Hazel laughed, but it was chased by nerves. “Yeah, about that. The ranch was actually-” and right before she could say it was Adam’s, her doorbell rang. “What the hell?” She muttered, setting the water down and looking toward the door.

“Who’s at your house this late?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know.” It was just hitting 11:00PM. “Maybe Rosie left something in my truck.” 

She walked quietly until stopping before the door, pressing up on the tips of her toes to look through the peephole. She gasped at who she saw and wrenched the door open, heartbeat jumping.

“Matt?! What the hell are you doing here?!”

He grinned, ending their FaceTime call as he tucked his phone back into the pocket of his wranglers. “I was in the neighborhood. Come here, I haven’t held you in weeks.” The last time they’d seen one another had been when he’d left the first time. Since then, their talks had been strictly by phone.

Matt pulled her into his arms, and she melted against him, heart sighing to remember what it felt like to have his touch. He was warm against the fall chill at their backs. His thumb pressed gently under her chin and he pushed her face up to look at him while he dipped and slipped his lips across hers. Hazel sighed into the kiss, turning her head to find a better position.

They pulled slowly apart, and she shook her head, still unable to believe he was actually here, on her porch, holding her. “Wait, I thought you had a rodeo you came home from today.”

“I did.” He said and tipped his head toward the inside of her house. “C’mon, let's get off the porch.”

He bent to pick up the straps to a lightly packed black duffel bag and followed her inside. “Right after I put my horse up, I texted Nick asking him to feed for me tonight and in the morning, packed an overnight bag, unhitched my trailer and started the drive up here.”

Hazel closed the door behind her and turned around to face him just as Matt set the duffle bag down and turned toward her. “Why?”

He reached out, either palm sliding warm over her hips. He pulled her in to him, chin to chest as his dark brown eyes softened on her face. “Because I missed you. Because when you were first planning to buy a horse from Bob, I knew his ranch was only a couple hours away from mine, and I was going to show up there and surprise you.” 

“I was going to surprise you!” Hazel said, grinning. “I was going to show up on your porch with an overnight bag after I looked at the horse.” A realization hit and her brows rose as she glanced down at his bag, then back at him. “Hey, you stole my idea.”

Matt laughed and reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Once you weren’t going to Bob’s and were instead going the opposite direction, I realized that meant I didn’t know when I was going to be able to see you next. I didn’t like that, so here I am.”

Hazel laughed behind closed lips and shook her head. “Here you are.”

Matt dipped his head and pushed his lips against hers again. Hazel once again melted into him, and let her body be walked back until she was against the door. Her lips opened for him and his tongue took the invitation, sliding in along hers. The longer they kissed the hungrier they became. Matt’s hand chased up the curve of her hip, up her side and framed her breast. He pinched her nipple over her shirt, softly pulling, making it a hard, needy peak as she gasped into his mouth. He grinned, chuckling before he kissed her again and smoothed his palm over her breast before moving to tease her other nipple in the same way.

She and Matt hadn’t seen one another in weeks, which led to them forgetting about everything and stumbling through the house, stopping to kiss and touch and giggle and moan here and there as they went. Eventually they made it to her room - his shirt was gone, she’d tugged it off down the hallway, and his hair was down and loose around his shoulders - and Matt didn’t let up. He moved with her clear until the back of her knees pressed against the bed, her fingers on his warm, bare chest, running up and then down over his arms. She felt the curve of muscle as he flexed beneath her touch and her lips, against his, lifted into a smile.

He pulled his mouth off hers. “Climb on the bed,” his breath was low, warm against her kiss-swollen lips, his voice rough with need, “And take these clothes off.” His fingers pried at the soft lavender tee she was wearing, tugging pointedly at the hem. With one more urgent kiss against her lips, he finally stepped away, hands falling quickly to the big, shiny buckle on his belt. As she tugged her shirt over her head, he popped the belt open on his jeans and tugged the zipper down quick. His fingers hooked in the denim and he hesitated, just briefly, eyes ravenously black as they fell to her bare breasts. His lips fell apart and she ached for him, for the familiar sweet sting of his beard burn he left after he kissed and sucked at her nipples.

He tugged his jeans down and she wiggled her body atop the sheets, pulling and maneuvering to free herself from her sleep shorts and discarding them without care. He stepped out of his boots and jeans, leaving the pile on the floor as he reached down to take off his socks. He’d undressed in a hurry up until this point, straightening and pinching his fingers in the elastic band of his black boxer-briefs. Hazel’s eyes dropped and saw the thick, defined shape of his hard cock straining against the dark fabric. She wet her lips in anticipation and pushed her heels into the bed, sliding her now-naked body up the sheets and toward the pillows. Matt pulled his boxer-briefs free, cock springing, tip leaking, veins fat and full along its length.

She inhaled as he climbed onto the mattress, her body weight leaning into each dip his knees made as they pressed down. His wide, calloused hands gripped over her knees, pushing her thighs apart as he knelt between them. His cock slipped over her and he sucked in a breath, exhaling it slowly. His hips pushed down, then tilted in, and his cock pried between her lips and slid right in, she was so wet. Hazel gasped on the same breath he did, their eyes locking.

That was the only still moment between them. Their lovemaking turned as wild as it was the first night they were finally able to be together, their bodies stumbling to catch up to all the connecting their hearts had been doing. They were a mess of moans and grunts, of sweat-slick skin sliding on sweat-slick skin, of panted breaths and feverish kisses. Matt pushed up to his knees, hands gripping into her hips, and held her up as he thrust hard and fast, in and out of her, fucking her into her shoulders. Hazel moaned and arched toward his thrusts, opening her eyes to look up the stretch of her naked body to where he was sweating, tense and hungry over her.

Her eyes rolled back in her skull as he dipped his hips and pushed up, stroking a sensitive spot deep inside between her legs. It sent jolts down her thighs and her joints locked, stiff, toes curling in the air and fingers digging into the sheets. Her mouth stuttered on a gasp and hung, caught open. Matt grinned, just barely - doing so was an effort when he was pushing all his energy elsewhere - and the dark of his eyes seemed just a shade darker as he thrust harder, more pointed in that same way he’d gotten her a moment before. Over and over the head of his cock teased that sensitive little spot until she was careening, gasping on her cries, clamping her muscles tight and clenching her jaw in anticipation of- “MATT!” - the crash.

He came down with her, a boulder of uncontrolled muscle crashing in on her as his own body went rigid, balls likely sucked tight to the base of his cock as it pulsed inside her and her own orgasm grabbed it tight. He made a stuttered grunt that seemed like it was supposed to be her name, or maybe a warning, but his throat couldn’t move enough to work words. She felt the warmth inside her as he came, the last ripples of her orgasm pulling at every last drop of him buried so deep inside her.

Matt lay almost an uncomfortable, still weight on top of her as the last of the pleasure ebbed away and their minds pulled from the fog. Their skin stuck, warm and sweaty, his breaths crowding over her. But Hazel’s body was too worn out, she couldn’t be bothered enough to push him away. And some part of her enjoyed it, in a way, that she could finally have him so close that his physical weight might be uncomfortable. Every other night he was just a voice. Just a moving picture.

“Sorry,” he murmured, breathing in an exhausted chuckle, arms shaking as he slowly peeled himself off of her.

“It’s okay,” she said in the same low tone, eyes sliding to meet hers once there was enough space for them to.

Carefully, still sensitive and half-hard, Matt slipped his cock from between her legs. He winced, just barely as the head slipped out, spent and slick with both their cum. He maneuvered to lay his body down beside her on the bed, exhaling a large breath. Hazel grinned and turned over, curling into him almost immediately as he lifted an arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. She looked up at him as he tipped his bearded chin downward and met her eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She was marveling, still. They’d rushed so quickly to be together, her mind had to catch itself back up.

“I missed you,” he said. His hand lifted so the tips of his fingers could smooth her frizzy hair, setting the pieces right that had stuck to her cheeks.

“I missed you, too.” She said. Her heartbeat hit a little harder, fear slipping into her veins at what she knew was showing brightly in her eyes that she tried so hard not to let go of. Vulnerability. Was he going to tell her he’d thought about what she’d said, and maybe they should look into being together exclusively? (She tried to ignore that this time, she felt three emotions altogether, all equally as potent: excitement, fear, and hesitance) 

Hazel waited for whatever he was going to say, but Matt didn’t speak. He smoothed his hand back down her shoulder and smiled, then leaned his head back on the pillow. His eyelids drifted closed, long eyelashes gently brushing the tops of his cheeks. His breathing relaxed and he seemed to sink calmly into the mattress.

Then she realized no profound confession was going to come from him. This surprise visit of Matt’s was just a one-off thing. Hazel tried to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed. He likely sensed like she did there’d been something wrong between them and he came to put himself between her legs and fuck her until she lost her mind. He’d curl his arm around her and tuck her into him like he was doing now and she’d remember how warm and safe it felt. 

But clearly he wasn’t going to tell her why he had become so distant after she finished the barn.

Maybe that was for the best, Hazel thought as she laid her head against his chest and let herself close her eyes and enjoy that he was there and warm and real in her bed with her. And she let herself remember that his smell would linger for a day or two in her sheets to be there as she drifted off to sleep. She wasn’t even sure she could commit to Matt, not after the connection she’d felt with Adam earlier.

Adam.

Her eyes opened quickly. She’d forgotten all about telling Matt about Adam. A sinking feeling hit the pit of her gut. She was too much of a coward to tell him to his face, when he’d driven all the way over here to surprise her. Especially now, naked, muscles sore from their desperate lovemaking. Hazel moved slowly and shushed him when he grunted and cracked an eye open, assuring him she was just going to the restroom. As her feet hit the plush carpet and he dozed off again, she wondered how she could get angry at him for skirting around things hanging between them when she couldn’t even show him the same courtesy.

**********

“Morning sleepyhead.” Matt whispered softly from where he was bent over her, standing on the other side of the bed, gently rubbing her shoulder. Hazel groaned, and something paper crinkled as he moved. “Look,” he beckoned, and she slowly pulled the comforter down to see a little bag with her store logo printed on it.

“Rosie says good morning. I went and got us coffee and breakfast, come on.” He gently tapped her ass over the comforter she was wrapped in and she groaned in complaint, tucking back into her warm cocoon. He laughed. “Come on, you have coffee to drink, food to eat, and a horse to tell me about.” His voice was fading as he walked out of the room and down the hall.

A horse to tell him about.

Adam’s horse.

Adam.

Matt showing up on her doorstep.

Adam and Matt being friends.

The way she felt when she was with Adam.

The way she felt when she was with Matt.

One day she would look back and maybe realize this was the exact moment, at 7:06AM on an otherwise normal Monday morning, with her body sore from the long drive and horseback riding and phenomenal sex, that she’d first made a connection that would become something paramount later on. But at present she was too tired and too worried about all that would go wrong to even consider what could be, let alone what couldn’t be controlled.

Hazel slid out of bed, wearing her sleep shorts and baggy shirt she’d tugged back on after getting ready for bed. She padded barefoot into the restroom, freshening up with only the amount of effort it took to splash her face, brush her teeth, and run a quick brush through her hair. She yawned as she turned away from her reflection and knew the warm cup of coffee would be a godsend this morning.

“There she is,” Matt said warmly, and she looked over at him - he was in his usual around-the-house attire of a cotton t-shirt of one of the brands that sponsored him and a comfortable pair of sweatpants. He’d swept his hair up into a bun, she remembered it down, jerking around his shoulders with each ram of his cock inside her. She licked her lips and set herself quickly down on the chair across from him, putting the reminder out of her head.

“My body feels so beat up, I don’t know how you travel like this and then perform every single week.” She complained as she wrapped her hands around the sleeve of the thermos he’d taken to get her coffee in.

“Aw, it’s not so bad. Eventually you just figure your body is supposed to feel all of those aches. You just kind of forget what it was like when you weren’t in pain.” He grinned as he lifted his coffee to his lips, winked and took a sip.

Hazel breathed out a laugh and rolled her eyes, taking her first sip of coffee and closing her eyes as she enjoyed how wonderful it was. She took another sip before the bag rustled and, looking, she saw Matt was opening it.

“Rosie had just pulled some lemon poppyseed muffins out of the oven before I rolled up. I grabbed a couple.” He reached in and placed one on a napkin for her, sliding it toward her spot on the table. He grabbed another one for himself and set his phone aside, it looked like he’d been reading a news article. Matt saw her glance at it. “Checking how everyone did at the other rodeos this weekend.” He grinned and shrugged as he picked at the muffin wrapper, peeling it away. “Trying to estimate what our scores are at and how good Nick and I have to be this weekend.”

“It never stops, huh?” Hazel said, but she didn’t say it sadly. It was more like she was marveling. He just kept pushing himself toward that dream, toward proving to everyone that he was as good as he said he was. It was admirable, even if it got in the way of something she wanted. That dream was there before her, anyways.

“Nope,” he said, and a sigh seemed to chase his words before he caught himself and plugged his mouth up with a chunk of baked goods. She did the same and he finally asked after he took a swig of coffee, “So, come on. Tell me about the horse.”

Hazel laughed, and she sipped her coffee to stall time.

“Funnily enough, it’s Adam’s.” She said, and her eyes shot to him as she kept the cup near her lips. She wondered if he’d ever caught on to any of it that first night they’d talked by the fire, when the energy between her and Adam had felt like it was practically shooting sparks.

“Adam?” He frowned and popped another bite into his mouth, chewing carefully. “Adam who?”

“Page.”

“Oh!” He laughed, clearly surprised. Delighted, even. So, he didn’t have any clue. “When did you find that out?”

“When I got there,” Hazel admitted. “I got so excited about going to see a horse I didn’t even ask for the guy’s name before I showed up, and then it turned out to be him.”

“Of course, you could only think about the horse.” Matt was grinning. “Which of his is it?”

“Daisy!” Hazel said it with excited breath, unable from sitting a little higher in her seat. It was easy to forget about Adam when she thought about the mare she might own soon.

“Daisy’s a beautiful little filly,” Matt said, frowning with thought. “That’s the little gold one that’s related to his mare Dolly, right?”

“Yeah, full sisters.”

“That’s right. Dolly is a sound horse. Last year at the NFR my horse hurt himself at the rodeo; he spooked when an attendant’s dog acted out and kicked, missed the dog and hit the trailer. It gashed up his leg and I didn’t want to run him, even patching it up. Didn’t want to take the risk. Adam always trailers in Dolly in case he decides to pick-up, and she’s a solid little ranch mare even if she’s not just for head roping. He let me ride her and Nick and I pulled second place when we otherwise would have had to drop out and severely hurt our rankings.”

“Wow,” Hazel exhaled, both marveling at the mare and at Adam’s quick thinking to make sure his friends wouldn’t miss their chances.

“Yeah,” Matt nodded and took another swallow of coffee and bite of muffin before adding, “if that little mare is anything like her sister, you’re going to have yourself a damn good horse.”

Hazel grinned. “I really think she’s something else. I haven’t felt that way when I’ve gotten on a horse since my first horse, Shorty.”

“Shorty?” Matt asked, smiling.

“He was a horse that a friend of my stepfather’s owned over at a dairy. He was the third horse I ever rode, a stocky little bay gelding with a little star on his forehead. He was playful and silly and would get a little pushy if I didn’t mind him, so he taught me a lot. He was also the first horse I ever rode barrels on.”

“Really?” Matt asked, leaning his forearms on the table and watching her.

“Yep! The dairy farmer’s daughter used to be a barrel racer, but she went off to college. Shorty was her horse. She came home for Christmas break and we went over for a little Christmas party and she asked me if I was the girl who was keeping Shorty company when she was gone. I was probably nine or ten at the time,” Hazel tilted her head, remembering that night well. “She asked me if I’d ever seen barrel racing and I said no, so she took me into her old room and showed me all the trophies and ribbons she and Shorty had won, and all the framed pictures she had. She taught me how to run the patterns that weekend and gave me books she’d learned from too.”

“Wow,” Matt said, smiling. “That’s awesome.”

“It really was! I felt that same connection to Daisy that I did when I used to ride Shorty.”

“You know, I think that might be the first time you’ve ever told me anything about your childhood.” He commented softly.

Hazel blinked. In truth, she’d been so happy to talk about Daisy she hadn’t even realized the story was tumbling out. She glanced down at her coffee mug, avoiding his gaze. “It’s not something I like to think about often.”

“I know,” he said. When she met his eyes, she saw they were warm and wanted to offer comfort. “Come on,” he broke the tension for her, and she was secretly grateful he didn’t press, or keep the silence hanging long enough she felt she had to talk about it. She wasn’t ready. “We still need to go pick up the clowns-” Carson and Callahan “-and you need to show me that barn in person.”

Hazel smiled as she stood up, grabbing the thermos as he took up the empty muffin wrappers and slid the crumbs off the table, throwing them in the trash on their way back to the bedroom to shower and dress. He wrapped an arm around her as she passed him and forced a pause in their walk to place a quick, soft kiss against her temple. An extra touch of comfort. Hazel’s heart warmed as their eyes met, her smile softening.

Matt had stayed most of the day with her. When Hazel finally saw him off it was in the late afternoon, and they tried their best not to talk about how badly they’d miss one another, though the words slipped out anyways. After she watched his truck back down her drive and take off down the road, Hazel loaded Carson and Callahan into her truck and went to relieve Rosie from managing the coffee shop. 

The dogs were always welcome at the shop, though they mostly slept and played in the manager’s office, only occasionally coming out when beckoned by a customer who asked if they could pet them. Hazel loved having a place she could bring her pups along with her if she wanted and was always delighted when someone seemed genuinely enthused to play with them. Some customers brought their dogs by, too, and they’d go out on the white-picket fence enclosed patio to play and have a little fun.

As she let Carson and Callahan inside and the little bell chimed as the door swung closed, she noticed a beautiful painting on the wall; a mountain landscape set in soft, lavender tones. “Oh wow! Is that a new one?”

“It is!” Rosie beamed, clearly happy Hazel had noticed.

“Rosie, it’s gorgeous!” Hazel said, turning to appreciate her friend’s artistic talents. “You really outdid yourself.” She stepped a little closer to it and smiled, looking at the little details that drew her eyes the longer she admired it.

“Thank you sugar,” Rosie said with a wink and couldn’t calm the width of her smile as she practically beamed under the compliment. “But,” her expression turned a little more pointed as Hazel glanced over at her, “Don’t think buttering me up is going to get you out of telling me what happened with Matt last night.”

Hazel laughed. “I wasn’t trying to get out of it! But aren’t you exhausted? You’ve been here since the crack of dawn and we didn’t exactly get to bed early last night.”

Rosie waved her hand dismissively as the pair turned and made for the office. Two of their part-time staff members were on hand to help serve the steady flow of customers coming in and out for a little treat and something warm to drink in the steadily cooling late-fall weather. It gave them the perfect opportunity to slip into the office, closing the door behind them for privacy. Rosie waited until they’d sat, offering Callahan a few scratches behind the ear as he walked over and plopped down in front of her, clearly expecting some love.

“I didn’t tell him what happened with Adam.” Hazel exhaled in a rush, then groaned and shook her head. “I couldn’t. Or, I didn’t want to. I don’t know. It was just so good to be with him again, you know?”

Rosie looked at her with sympathy. “I know, sweetheart. But letting it go on like this is just gonna lead to more heartache when things finally do come out. Adam’s still going to be bringing the horse, right?”

“Yeah,” Hazel said, worrying at her bottom lip and shaking her head. She knew clinging to the excuse that they hadn’t discussed anything was a cheap way out. She knew the right thing would have been to at least clue Matt into her having feelings for Adam, but she couldn’t do it. “So long as she passes her vet check, which I'm sure she will.”

Which meant Adam would be trailering her in. Which meant she would be alone with Adam. She knew she should feel guilty, not excited.

“How long will that take?”

“A few days, maybe? It depends on when the vet can get out there and then when Adam has the time to drive her up.”

Rosie hummed under her breath and then smiled. “She is really pretty.”

“Isn’t she?” Hazel couldn’t ignore how her heart lifted just to think of the little golden mare and how she couldn’t wait to hopefully begin training her on the barrels.

Rosie asked a few more questions about the mare, and Hazel was all too happy to answer. It was much, much easier to gush about her potential new horse than it was to go in anxiety-ridden circles about the potential mess she was making between herself, Matt, and Adam. She went on about a barrel saddle she’d had her eye on buying, light oil color with hand-painted floral details, turquoise and clear crystal embellishments. There was a matching headstall and breast collar to the entire set. Hazel pulled it up on her phone and passed it over, smiling as Rosie marveled at how pretty it was and how well the turquoise would look against Daisy’s golden coat.

It was exciting to talk about these things again. To think the mornings of tugging on her boots and making her way to the stall to feed were just on the horizon. Hazel could barely contain her excitement. All she needed now was to hear from Adam again, and she hoped it would be soon. Both because she wanted to know if she could really begin dreaming of everything she and her new little mare would do and because she could daydream about seeing him again. 

Across from her, Rosie lifted her hand to cover a yawn. Hazel smiled sympathetically and clapped her palms against her thighs, pushing up to her feet.

“Come on,” Hazel said, reaching to pull Rosie up out of her chair. “Your friendship duties are officially over. I know you’re tired out of your mind, so I’m sending you home.” She tugged her out of the office and stopped them in the middle of the shop, despite Rosie’s arguments that she wasn’t that tired, and would be more than happy to keep on talking.

“Go on, get home safe.” Hazel nodded over Rosie’s shoulder to the door.

“Alright, alright,” Rosie said, conceding at last. “But remember,” her tone brought Hazel’s eyes to meet hers. “If you need me, I’m always just a phone call away.”

Hazel’s lips curled upward as she reached to gently grasp Rosie’s hand. “Thank you.” Rosie nodded and turned, waving and giving her goodbye to their staff working behind the counter and once she was gone, Hazel returned to the office to pick up where Rosie’s work had left off.

Two hours into spreadsheets and schedules and budgets that had her eyes wanting to cross, Hazel’s phone buzzed.

TEXT FROM: Adam

Daisy passed her vet check with flying colors.

Hazel’s brows shot up as excitement rushed through her. She couldn’t grab her phone up to reply fast enough.

TEXT TO: Adam

Yay!!!!! I know you’re already helping me out by driving her up to mine since I don’t have a trailer yet, but is it wrong of me to ask how soon you’re able to? I’m just so eager to have her.

TEXT FROM: Adam

Not wrong at all. I’m happy she’s clearly going to a good home. If I could bring her up Friday and leave Dolly with her overnight, you’d be doing me a favor. I have a rodeo about seven hours further north of you on Saturday. I could drive six hours to yours, put Dolly up and that’ll give Daisy some company for the first night in a new place. Then I’ll just stay at a hotel and come back in the morning, load Dolly up and finish my drive to the rodeo.

Hazel read and reread the message. There was nothing wrong with him leaving Dolly overnight and she did like the idea that Daisy would have something and someone familiar on her first night at her new home. But she knew, before she even began typing the message, her reply was going to make it all kinds of wrong.

TEXT TO: Adam

That’s no problem at all! If you want to save money on a hotel, I have a guest bedroom. If it wouldn’t be weird for you. I am still kind of with Matt.

TEXT FROM: Adam

Kind of with… but not dating, right?

Her pulse jumped, but her stomach turned. She sucked in a breath.

TEXT TO: Adam

Yeah…

TEXT FROM: Adam

It’d help me out to not have to pay for a hotel room, so if it wouldn’t be weird for you, I’d appreciate the offer. I’ll keep my hands to myself, if that’s what you want.

She didn’t want that and they both knew it. With a sigh, she glanced over at Carson, who was stretched out on the dog bed in the office. He perked his ears at her as their eyes met.

“I don’t know what I’m doing either, bud.” She said and glanced back down at her phone.

TEXT TO: Adam

Guest bedroom it is. See you Friday. 

She set her phone down and, elbows on the desk, leaned her face into her hands and closed her eyes. This wasn’t fair to Matt. Beside her, Hazel’s phone buzzed. Another text message, probably from Adam. She cracked her eyes open and almost choked on a laugh. Speak of the devil.

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

Almost home! Just a few more hours. Call you when I get there?

She glanced at the time, and figured she’d be just locking up and getting home when he was finally ready to call.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Sounds great babe. Drive safe! 

Another heavy exhale and she set her phone down, glancing back at Carson who was still watching her from where he was laying. He thumped his tail and Hazel smiled flatly. 

“You’re supposed to protect me from things that hurt me, you know that, right?”

He pulled up to his feet, tail wagging increasingly harder the closer to her got, sitting in front of her knees and pushing his head onto her lap. He looked up at her with big brown puppy dog eyes and Hazel sighed, shaking her head and scratching him behind his floppy, soft golden ears.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You can’t protect me from myself. It isn’t your fault.”

Hazel gave him a final little scratch behind the ears and gently pushed him from her lap, turning in the office chair to pick up work again. When she’d done enough scheduling and inventorying and planning to make her want to rake her eyes out, she joined the staff working until closing and helped them behind the counter, checking in with townsfolk she was familiar with and thanking them for coming by. It was nicer than sitting alone in the office with only her thoughts to turn her around and around. Here, conversation stole her attention and left it with nothing to focus on but familiar faces and pleasantry.

The sky became pitch black as the night stretched ever closer, the sun having set a few hours prior. Hazel waved her employees goodnight and locked up, getting Carson and Callahan loaded into the backseat of her truck’s cab before climbing up into the driver’s seat. She was alone with only her thoughts again, but was quick to flip on the radio, deciding if she sang along to her favorite songs it’d be enough to preoccupy her on the drive home.

It was, of course, temporary.

Soon enough she was pulling into the driveway, killing the engine and glancing down at the time on her phone. Matt would likely be calling in just a few minutes. Hazel tucked her phone into her pocket and slid out of the truck, taking Callahan and Carson up to the front door and giving a quick smile over at the still-empty barn. She let her heart lift with excitement, thinking of that cute little golden mare who’d occupy it soon enough.

As soon as she’d lightly tossed her keys into the catch-all on the hallway table, her phone started to ring. When she pulled it out of her pocket, she was relieved to see it was a normal call and not FaceTime. She slid to answer and held it up to her ear.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey you!” He sounded happy. Hazel bit at her bottom lip.

“How was the drive home?”

“Not bad,” he groaned, and she heard a sound like he’d collapsed onto his bed, the sheets and mattress giving way beneath his weight. “Mmm,” he murmured tiredly, “wish you were here though.” A sigh through his nose. “I wasn’t ready to let you go after just one day.”

“I wasn’t ready for you to, either.” A pinch of sadness weighed down her tone. Hazel didn’t understand how she could feel how she felt about him, but also feel the way she felt about Adam both at the same time. It didn’t seem fair. Or reasonable. She knew what it was like to be cheated on, and she didn’t want to be the kind of person that’d bring that sort of pain to someone she cared about. But again, she found herself confused and wondering… was it cheating if they weren’t technically together?

“Sorry,” he said, picking up on the long pause of silence between them. “I didn’t mean to get mopey and be a downer on the conversation.”

“No, no,” she slowly lowered onto the couch, peering off across the room but seeing none of it. She was picturing him, instead. “You don’t need to apologize.” She took a small pause. “Hey, Matt?”

“Hm?”

“Can I say something that might make the conversation even more of a downer?” Her chest felt tight.

“I… guess. What’s wrong?” His voice sounded sharper than it did before. She’d broken through the exhaustion of a long day’s drive and now he was alert.

“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about dating until after this rodeo season was over in December,” she started, “but something’s changed and I just need to know if you really see us as exclusively dating - the real thing - after this season is done.”

“I… What do you mean, something’s changed? What changed?”

She could hear a touch of anger in his voice.

No, wait. Not anger. 

Worry.

“Matt,” she sighed and closed her eyes, reaching to pinch the bridge of her nose. “What happens next rodeo season?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what happens if during the off-season you decide you have enough time to date, but then the rodeo season starts up again in the spring and you feel like you can’t be around again?”

There was a long pause. Longer than normal.

“Hazel, I…” He trailed off. Every second of silence made her chest ache a little tighter and a little tighter. “I don’t know.”

She exhaled and hated the way her eyes were stinging. “You don’t think we could do it? The long-distance thing?”

“What’s changed, Hazel? I was just there with you yesterday and everything was perfect. Why are you suddenly asking me all of this?”

“I met someone.” It was out of her mouth before she had a second chance to think. Before she could point out there shouldn’t be any difference if they wanted to try dating now or a few months from now. The rodeo and their distance were always going to be there, so why not try and work through it now if that’s what he really wanted?

“You met someone.” He laughed, but there was no humor to it. Now she could hear a little bit of anger.

“Matt, nothing’s happened.” That was a lie. Hazel swallowed against her rising guilt. “I just want to know where we stand. I care about you, Matt.”

I love you, she wanted to say, but she was too terrified to say those three little words and then hear him tell her he didn’t feel the same.

“I care about you too!”

“Do you?” The words practically leapt out of her, pushed by the pain she was feeling. “Because if you cared about me, I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to just try dating, Matt. We’re adults, we can figure out trips to see one another.” 

Suddenly this conversation was steamrolling into a fight.

“I already told you I don’t have time to focus on a relationship the way I’d want to. I don’t want to hurt you when I have to pick the rodeo over you.”

“You already are.” Picking the rodeo over her or hurting her? 

Hazel didn’t specify.

The pause was long again. He exhaled a sharp breath, but still didn’t speak. It stretched on a little longer.

“Are you going to say anything?” She asked, hearing how small her voice was.

“I don’t know what to say.”

She swallowed back against the lump in her throat and tried her hardest to keep from crying but felt the slip of a tear down her cheek just a moment after. Careful to stay as quiet as possible so he wouldn’t hear her crying, she reached for a tissue on the coffee table and carefully pressed it against her eyes, looking up at the ceiling and doing her best to not let any more fall or any shaking breaths leave her lips.

“Well,” she tried once she felt like she could get her voice. She could hear the faint roughness of emotion laid over it but tried to keep her tone level. “I guess I should go then.”

“Hazel, we can’t leave it like this. We can’t hang up like this.”

She hated that she could hear the hurt in his voice. He was hurting her. Why wouldn’t he answer her? Why wouldn’t he try? Wouldn’t it make sense, if they were going to date exclusively, to try during the most hectic time of the year to see if they had what it takes to get through the tough stuff? Didn’t that just mean that somewhere, in the back of his mind, he didn’t really want to be with her as much as he thought he did?

“I don’t know what to say.” She echoed his words back to him, to hurt him too, but she didn’t feel particularly good about it. It just hurt her more. She heard another breath rush out of his lungs.

He cursed under his breath. “Hazel, I care about you, okay? I wouldn’t have driven all that way to surprise you if I didn’t.”

“I know,” Hazel closed her eyes tight, hoping that’d continue to keep the tears at bay. “But you don’t want to date right now?”

“The NFR is just two months away,” he said quietly. “Can’t we just wait to talk about this until then? Maybe there’ll be a rodeo close enough for you to come out and stay the weekend with me? I think I have one this weekend that’s about seven hours away from you.”

“I’d have to talk to Rosie and see if she could cover the shop for me,” she trailed off and then shook her head, remembering, “No, wait. I can’t. I’m getting my horse on Friday.”

“Oh… I think the other ones are all out-of-state. Wyoming and Montana until we head to Vegas for the NFR.” He paused and when he spoke next, she could tell he was trying to make his voice lighter, trying to patch them up and pull them away from that sad place they’d been in. “But hey! You didn’t tell me your horse passed the vet check. That’s exciting!”

Her heart was too heavy to lift, even for that. It felt like a cheap way to distract her from what they’d been talking about.

“Yeah, it is.” She looked up at her ceiling. “I need to go... I have to be up early so I can open the shop.”

“Okay,” he said, but she heard the hesitation in the pause that followed. They still hadn’t soothed what wounds they’d both opened, and now neither of them knew how to. If they hung up, the sting would have no choice but to linger. “I’ll text you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Hazel.”

“Bye, Matt.”

She pulled her phone slowly away, blinked at his name and the seconds trickling by the timestamp on their phone call. The screen blurred as her eyes filled with tears. She clicked the red circle to hang-up before they started to fall.

***********

A loud, long groan pushed with effort from his chest, barely muffled behind closed lips, his jaw clenched tight. His work-glove covered hands curled around the handles of the hay hooks buried at either side of the fifty-pound bale of alfalfa hay and he hoisted it upward, biceps bulging against his sun-tanned skin with the effort. He turned his body and swung the bale up onto the stack in his hay barn which he’d parked the trailer beside to unload.

The work kept him occupied and pushed the frustrations that’d plagued him through a sleepless night. Some bales that he lifted, he practically screamed through, but it was only against the thoughts that’d been circling endlessly around in his head and spreading an ache in his chest. He kept trying to shake it off. Each time he tugged the hay hooks from the bale and stabbed them aggressively into the next to be unloaded, he hoped some of that tension would ease out of his body. Maybe he’d exhaust himself enough that he’d just lay back right there on the scratchy hay and pass out and wouldn’t be able to think anymore.

Sweat dripped down his temple and he paused, stretching upright with the hooks left in the bale, reaching to wipe it away with the back of his hand before it hit his eyes. His other hand swiped the black cowboy hat from his head and he fanned himself briefly with the brim, stirring the few wisps of brown hair that’d untucked from his low bun as he worked. He realized it felt loose and dropped his hat onto the hay bale, reaching up to secure it again. His arms burned with a familiar, comfortable ache and he knew he’d have no hope but to fall into a deep sleep tonight.

“I thought you were going to wait until I was over to unload!” Nick’s familiar voice called up from a short distance away, and Matt dropped his hands slow, reaching to pick up his hat and wiping the little flakes of alfalfa that’d stuck to it. He stuck it low on his brow before he turned to look at his brother, who’d now reached the flatbed and was peering up at him with a frown, long fingers pinching his narrow hips.

“I needed to do something.” He said, voice strained as he realized how thirsty he was. He tugged off his gloves, hands warm, and tossed them gently onto the next hay bale he was supposed to move.

Nick’s frown deepened. He turned to where Matt had left his bottle of water and chucked it underhand up to him. “What’s going on?”

Matt twisted the cap off and looked over at his younger brother, pushing a sigh out of his nose and dropping his shoulders. “I fucked things up with Hazel.” He tipped the bottle back and took a swallow, using it as an opportunity to avoid meeting Nick’s eyes.

“What? How?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed and licked the residue water from his lips. That was a lie, he did know. He also knew that all he had to do was tell Nick the conversation verbatim, and Nick would know too.

Nick didn’t press or say anything. He pushed up on the flatbed trailer, where there was space for his boots to firmly land on the secured wood-beams that made the bed. Matt had already managed to clear a decent amount of bales on his own, but he was feeling the exhaustion at having overexerted himself because of it.

Another sigh.

“She met someone else, Nick.”

Nick’s brows lifted. He tugged his gloves from the back pocket of his Wranglers and pulled them onto his hands, stepping into Matt’s space as Matt took a few steps to the side. Setting the bottle of water aside he reached for his gloves, tugging them on as he considered what happened on the phone with Hazel the night prior.

As Nick grabbed the handle of the hook on the left side, Matt grabbed the right. They maneuvered the bale onto the pile being stacked in the hay storage and when Matt tugged the hook free, he spoke.

“She told me something had changed, and then asked me what happens next rodeo season.” He blinked, a frown pushing his dark brows together. His arm swung as he buried the metal hook into the next bale. “I-”a grunt broke between his words “-asked her what had changed and she told me she met someone.” He tried to say it as if it didn’t tap on one of those very fears that’d worried him about them dating.

“So she doesn’t want to talk anymore?” Nick asked, hoisting his side up as Matt followed suit and they stacked the next bale.

“No,” Matt shook his head. “She didn’t say that. But we got…” he glanced down at the toes of his boots, gaze distant as he remembered lying on his bed, heart pounding so fast and hard in his chest he felt sick, fingers curled so tight around his phone they ached and his knuckles were white.

I don’t want to hurt you when I have to pick the rodeo over you.

You already are.

His eyes rolled up to the sky as he tipped his head back. A dry laugh left him on an exhale, but there was no humor in it. “We got into a fight. A real one.” His head tipped back forward and his eyes slid to Nick’s. “I can’t remember the last time I was with a girl long enough to have fought with her.”

“Girls yell at you all the time,” Nick said, swinging the curved hook into his side of the bale.

A grin curled the edge of Matt’s mouth beneath his mustache. “Shut up,” he said half-heartedly, stabbing his hook into the hay and hoisting the weight upward as Nick did too. Once they’d swung the bale onto the stack and released the hooks, Matt shrugged. “That doesn’t count. That’s them yelling at me about how I’m a no-good scoundrel who’s only love is rodeo gold, that’s not us fighting.”

“You’ve never stuck around long enough to fight with them.” Nick said it casually, but Matt felt himself tense.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for this bullshit.” He spat it out with a little more venom than he’d intended, gesturing vaguely. “My focus has always been on our career, and that’s no different now. Where am I supposed to fit a relationship in with a woman who lives a whole day’s drive away?”

Matt stabbed the hook into his bale, but Nick didn’t do his. Straightening upright, Matt looked at his brother and saw Nick was watching him with an almost sympathetic look across his face. Matt hated how much it cut through him, how it immediately tugged away the anger that was keeping him safe from feeling how hurt he was. His eyes dropped away from Nick’s.

“You sort of already are, Matt.”

Matt glanced up and saw Nick was still steadily watching him. For all of Matt’s anxious ticks and nervous energy, Nick was calm and still, far more collected of the two. Nick pulled his glove off and scratched at the light scruff on his chin as his brows pinched inward and he narrowed his eyes in thought.

“Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you play your normal games with the rodeo girls.” Nick’s eyes slid to Matt and his brows lifted beneath the brim of his baseball cap, pushing the brim just slightly up his forehead. “I think the last time was when you met her.”

Matt shrugged and turned away, as though that would hide what having those truths laid out bare in front of him made him feel, and how scared he was to feel those feelings. “Come on,” he said, encouraging Nick to put his work gloves back on and help hoist the hay. “She already met someone else. It was only a matter of time anyways. She deserves someone who’s going to be there for her more than I can be. Who isn’t going to hurt her like I have.”

Nick was slow to put his glove on, but didn’t talk until he’d picked his hook back up and secured it into the bale. “For all we’ve known each other - and it has been quite some time,” he pushed through gritted teeth as they hoisted the hay up onto the stack and tugged his hook free, “I’ve never known you to be a quitter. Especially if it’s not something your heart wants.”

**********

“Okay, I don’t think she’s paying attention to us.”

“No, I don’t think she is. She hasn’t looked over since we said her name an entire minute ago.”

“So we could say whatever we want about her and she wouldn’t hear it?”

“Probably.” A little snickering followed, but just like the question Andrea had asked her a moment ago, Hazel heard none of it. Her foot was bouncing beside the chair as her eyes pinned to the semi-busy afternoon crowds down main street outside her’s and Rosie’s coffee shop. She was sitting at one of the window seats, across from her was Rosie and Andrea, as the three girls had a little get-together one of the few nights Andrea had a chance to leave her siblings behind and had no shift at either of the jobs she worked.

They’d caught up on what had happened between Hazel and Matt and the fact that she hadn’t heard from him since their fight on Monday. She hadn’t tried to text or call him back, and he hadn’t tried to text or call her.

“Does this mean you guys are over?” Andrea had asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Hazel didn’t want to say yes, though that’s certainly what it felt like.

“Hey! Hazel! Hello!” Andrea’s voice was suddenly loud, and it made her jump as her wide-eyes swung back to find her friends staring at her with matching grins.

“Sorry,” she said, “did you ask me something?”

“Yeah, about five minutes ago!”

“Sorry!” Hazel laughed and shook her head.

“It’s okay,” Rosie laughed, “we know you can’t think of anything but Daisy.”

Adam would be sending her a message as soon as he was an hour outside town. It would give her time to leave the shop, drive home and do another check to make sure everything was ready for the mare. Or, mares, since Dolly would be staying the night too. As would her handler.

Hazel was trying not to think about that too much, along with making the egregious mistake of assuming she could be reasonable and keep her hands off of him and stay in her room and not do anything to further complicate her love life. Instead, she was putting all her focus and attention on the arrival of her new horse. It wasn’t too hard to do, given how excited she was about being a horse owner again, and how much she couldn’t wait to run Daisy on the barrels. It was like a piece of her had reawoken, something that she thought she’d lost long, long ago.

“I can’t wait,” Hazel confessed, looking between her friends and beaming. “I can’t wait for you to meet her Andrea, she’s an absolute sweetheart.”

“She really is,” Rosie agreed.

“Don’t be surprised if Grace starts asking for a sleepover at Auntie Hazel’s,” Andrea said. Grace was her youngest sibling at seven years-old, and the only girl. “She’s in that horse-crazy phase of her young girl years.”

“Ah,” Hazel said, nodding, “a phase I know all too well. Some of us never grow out of it.” Their light laughter was broken by Hazel’s phone chiming and lighting up where it sat on the table in front of her. She squealed to see Adam’s name and was quick to open his message. “Looks like it’s time for me to head home and check everything over.” She said, smiling back up at her friends.

“Adam’s close?” Rosie asked.

“Yep,” Hazel pushed the chair back as she stood, “I’ll send you guys some videos of her settling in!” 

The girls said their goodbyes and Hazel rounded up Carson and Callahan, loading them in her truck before she headed for home. She couldn’t get there fast enough, even knowing Adam was still an entire hour out. Her giddiness made her realize twice she was speeding, and she’d exhale with a laugh as she eased the foot off the pedal and slowed her truck down. She felt like a kid at Christmas, all the excitement inside her pouring out in what felt like a permanent smile that’d been on her face all day.

The following hour passed surprisingly quickly as she did a check around the barn and turnout paddocks, filled two stalls with a little over a foot of soft sawdust flakes, and got the water buckets filled before flipping the automatic fill nozzles on. Hazel had just swung the back door toward the turnout paddock open when she heard the rumble of the truck’s engine and glanced to see Adam pulling his horse trailer up the drive.

Wiping her hands on her jeans she darted out of the barn and half-jogged to where he slowly pulled the truck to a stop. 

“Hey!” She called as he climbed out of the cab.

“Hello again,” he said warmly, and opened his arms to envelope her in a friendly hug. Hazel didn’t hesitate, and something in her softened to have his arms around her and his scent - whatever shampoo and conditioner he used, horses, leather, and the faint spearmint from the gum he’d been chewing - in her nose, her lungs as she dragged a deep enough breath for it. He must’ve sensed something, because as she snuggled in close, Adam’s hands flattened on her back, holding her closer into his front. 

Hazel buried her face against him, and let the pain she’d been feeling that past week slip away, second by second that he held her. His arms shifted, he pulled her back just enough to lift his thick fingers to her chin, guiding it up so their eyes could meet. The way concern looked on his face made her heart ache.

“You alright?” He asked, his green eyes jumping between hers.

“Yeah,” she exhaled and nodded. “I’m okay.” 

The hand that’d been holding her chin reached to cup her cheek. His thumb skimmed across her skin. “Alright.” He said. He wouldn’t press, wouldn’t make her tell him why she’d needed to hold him so tightly. 

“Want to introduce your girl to her new home?” He tilted his head toward the trailer, blond curls gently shifting with the movement.

“Yes!” She practically jumped in his arms and was only remiss for a second when their embrace broke.

As Adam went to unhitch the back of the trailer, Hazel popped the side door, speaking softly to the golden mares as she stepped inside the trailer. She ran a gentle hand along Daisy’s haunches and down her spin, shifting between them to where her lead was securely knotted. Quick work undid the nylon and Hazel gently turned her, leading her out of the trailer. “Welcome home, Daisy,” she said as they walked down the ramp and onto the gravel driveway outside.

Daisy lifted her nose in the air, nostrils flaring as she sucked in deep, fresh breaths of all the new smells. She jerked her head lightly on the lead - not enough to disturb Hazel’s grasp, though it tightened all the same - and looked around, ears pointing forward, attentive. Hazel smiled and rubbed her free hand down Daisy’s warm, strong neck. “What do you see, girl?” She asked her, starting to walk, Daisy more than happy to fall in step with her.

As Hazel showed her around the yard, Adam unloaded Dolly, who was clearly happy to be able to uncramp her legs from the trailer.

“Let’s turn them out in the arena,” Hazel suggested, nodding toward it. “They can stretch their legs and get some energy out.” She could tell when Daisy had turned and seen her sister that her excitement had mounted and the clips of her hooves hit a little more rapidly as she swung her hips, moving restlessly. It’d be good to let them burn this off.

Adam nodded and started toward the arena, Dolly glancing around as he led her toward the gate. Hazel followed in tow with Daisy, who seemed confident and happy following her older sister. Adam popped the latch and pushed it open on the hinge, walking Dolly in a few steps over the soft sand-dirt blend arena. He reached up to unclip her lead as Hazel led Daisy in behind them, reaching to do the same before Daisy could get too excited about her sister already trotting a few paces out. The lead unclipped, Daisy tossed her head and pulled her legs up in a high-knee trot, cream-white tail flagging out behind her muscled haunches.

Adam joined Hazel, standing side by side with her as they both held their horse’s respective leads, smiling and watching the mares in the arena.

As Daisy approached Dolly, Dolly lifted her head and kicked out her heels playfully, picking up the pace to egg her younger sister into a chase. The two uncramped their muscles from the six-hour long travel in the trailer, and worked through their energy at being in a completely new place with new smells. Dolly was used to traveling and her confident nature would help ease Daisy into this place too, making it more something to be intrigued by than fearful of. It was a good thing Adam had a rodeo and needed to bring Dolly, too. Hazel watched both golden mares stop at the other end of the arena and glance out toward the foothills, side by side as they pointed their ears over the fence and listened to whatever caught their attention.

“She looks right at home here,” Adam said, and it drew Hazel’s eyes toward him.

“She does.” She agreed with a smile.

“Want to give these girls a break? Show me around your barn?” He offered.

“Sure,” Hazel agreed with a smile, and turned to walk back toward the arena gate they’d gently closed after releasing the mares. They hung the leads on the fencepost, since they wouldn’t need them until they were ready to put the mare’s up for the night, and exited. Adam latched the arena gate and waved a hand at Dolly and Daisy, who’d glanced over to curiously watch them make their exit.

“It’s definitely nowhere near as fancy as yours,” she started, not wanting his expectations through the roof as she led him across the yard toward it.

“Well, you’re also not a multi-year bronc bustin’ rodeo champion with a ranch horse breeding business on the side.”

“Fair point,” she laughed as he raised his brows and fixed her with a pointed, green-eyed stare. He grinned shortly after, and her eyes lingered over how handsome happiness looked on him. It made his cheeks perfectly round and pinchable, with a brightness in his green eyes that nearly made them shine blue.

They reached the little three stall barn and Hazel tried to temper her smile as she walked him around, showed him the stalls and their swing out doors to the small turn-outs, the little tack room that doubled as a feed room and an all-purpose room, too. No wide wash-stalls with cross-ties here. It was a humble little stable but, like Adam said, it wasn’t like she was raising a whole herd of horses or in the business of it,  no matter how much she’d love to be.

Still, Hazel was proud of it. She had built the frame with her own two hands, even if a company had finished it, furnished it and given it some pretty little upgrades she might not have put the time into herself. 

“I like it,” he said, his nod shifting the blond curls resting on his broad, muscled shoulders.

“Yeah?” She asked, smiling up at him.

“Yeah! I can see it’s new, no little dents from the day-to-day, can still smell the fresh paint, everything is shiny and unlived in but, it feels like…” he paused, “feels like it’ll be a home. It’s warm; it has heart.”

Hazel laughed softly.

“What?” He asked.

“Sometimes I feel like you’ve got a poet’s soul, cowboy.”

“Aw,” he grunted, and she was pleased to see just a little bit of red in his cheeks as he smiled. “I normally don’t talk this much to people.” He said, then sighed. “Well, I do. I can talk my way into looking comfortable in any size crowd so well, people will think I must be a natural. Truth is, most of the time I’m around people, I’m terrified as hell. What if I say the wrong thing? Is it wrong that I really don’t care that Kenny’s playing a new video game? Am I acting like I do enough so I don’t come off rude as he talks to me about it? Am I maybe being a little spoiled, not wanting to talk to my friend about something he likes or is it okay that I don’t want to? Am I a good person?” He rattled off the questions with a good-humored exaggeration of his worried persona until she was biting down hard into her smile as he did. 

Hazel shook her head and reached out to touch his forearm. He brought his eyes to hers, and his posture relaxed. One of his free hands reached up to cup her face.

“But with you, I feel like I can say exactly what I want to say, and I want you to accept and understand me so bad, and then you do. Or you say something I’ve been thinking, but haven’t managed to put together to make sense of it yet. You just…” he exhaled, and she felt the warmth of it over her lips. He’d sank down closer to her, as if every word pulled them in like magnets. “You scare me, Hazel, but you make me feel more like me than I’ve ever been comfortable with before.” 

And their lips met, her answer a muffled whine, sweet and heartfelt against his tongue. He inhaled sharp, and his hand slipped from her face to pinch into her waist, his other hand flanking her other side. He squeezed hard, harder than he’d meant to as a muscle jumped in his blond hair-dusted forearms and his hold relaxed, just a little. His thick, tall body bullied her back to the wall where she went willingly, just like before.

Her back flattened and his body was quick to push warm and needy against her front. A perfectly placed knee guided her legs apart so he could shuffle in a step closer, pushing the bulge growing between her legs against her thigh. They fell into where they were a week ago in his barn as if no time had passed or location had changed. Adam’s hand pushed up her shirt, calloused hands grazing her soft tummy as they moved upward. His greedy fingers slipped under her bra until they found her left nipple, squeezing it and giving it a slight pull - just enough to make her moan into his mouth and his grin to smear across their kiss.

Hazel pulled her head away to look at him and saw how dark his eyes were. He almost looked like a man possessed, so hungry for her, with so many emotions flooding the surface. She could feel nothing but loved beneath a gaze like that, and with how low her heart had been all week, it was more than she could ask for.

Adam released her left nipple and slipped to cup her right breast instead, wiggling to offer it the same treatment, pushing his mouth hot against hers to muffle another little yelp of pleasure-pain that pulled from her throat when he pinched it. Her hips moved restlessly against him, rubbing his growing, jean-clad cock on her thigh and herself on his sturdy, large thigh. It shoved the stitching of her jeans against her thin little panties, and she gasped shakily when their mouths moved apart.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling away to get a good look down at her. His eyes jumped over her face and he smiled, almost in wonder. “C’mere, I want to see you.” His voice husky, gentle. Adam took his fingers out from where he was stretching the elastic of her bra and out of her shirt, pinching the hem instead. He slipped it up her body, eyes meeting hers to make sure it was what she wanted.

Hazel didn’t hesitate. With their eyes locked, she took her shirt from his grasp and ripped it quickly over her head. When his eyes fell greedy to her cleavage she wasted no time twisting an arm behind her back, grasping her bra’s clasp and twisting to pop it free. Adam’s eyes jumped to hers, then back down as she peeled the material away and dropped it at his feet in the barn aisle next to her shirt.

“God damn, Hazel,” he whispered in a hot breath as one hand lifted to lightly hold the weight of her bare breast, his eyes falling from hers, to it. The pad of his thumb skimmed over her teased hard, sensitive nipple and she inhaled a sharp breath. His head of golden curls bent so his mouth could engulf her breast and the flat of his wide tongue could flick back and forth across her little pink nipple.

Hazel bent her head back, eyes on the wood-beams above. Adam’s warm mouth worshipped one breast, then moved to the other to offer it the same treatment. His fingers crawled down to her jeans and tested the loops before turning in toward the button. He slipped it free then lifted his head, and his eyes - dark with need - met hers. The brief moment of pause in the chaos. The one chance to say “Are you sure?” without actually saying the words. As if there was any chance she’d want to go back now. As if there was any chance they could rein in the coming storm their passion felt like it would be.

She nodded, just barely, and a grin curved Adam’s mouth. The zipper of her jeans tugged down with a loud, quick zip, but before he could tug them down, she was prying at the hem of his shirt and pushing it up his thick, warm torso.

“Fair’s fair,” she said as he bent in and tasted the skin of her neck. “I’m shirtless, so you have to be too.”

She could feel his grin against her skin, and he was still smiling as he took his thick fingers off her jeans and stepped back just enough to have the room to strip. “Didn’t realize we had rules,” he teased as he pulled the material up his body and let it fall carelessly to the floor beside them. Hazel’s eyes swept down his handsome face to that broad chest, down the subtle curve of his belly where just an inch of fat hung over his tooled leather belt, and the big, shiny buckle bit into it.

“I like my rule,” she said, reaching to put her hands on his biceps and sliding them up his shoulders. 

“I didn’t say it was a bad rule,” he leaned in to put his mouth in the hollow dip of her neck and taste the skin down to her collar bone. His short beard scratched at her as his kisses turned a little more feverish, and his fingers once again wiggled their way toward her jeans.

This time Hazel didn’t stop him and after only a brief hesitation he tugged the stiff material of her jeans down her hips and thighs, kneeling in front of her and helping her out of her boots. A shiver ran over her body - nearly nude spare her thin, teal panties - as he straightened over her.

“Cold?” He asked in a low voice, and crowded his warm body closer. One of his hands framed her face, his fingertips tracing her jaw. He brought her eyes up to his and gently ran the flat of his thumb over the shape of her lips.

“No,” she whispered as he pulled his hand away. “I just feel… exposed.”

He paused for a minute, glancing over his shoulder toward the open end of the small stable, then back at her. “It’s just us, darlin’.”

“I know, but it’s been a long time since I was in a barn with a cowboy, naked and about to be fucked up against the wall.” 

Adam grinned. “Would it make you feel better if I was just as naked as you?”

“Absolutely.” The word was out of her mouth before she even had time to playfully pretend to think about it. Her eagerness made his grin spread, and he nodded his head before he stepped back and his thumb played at his belt. Her eyes fell down to it just as he tugged it’s clasp free, then left the belt open and dangling as he went for the button on his jeans. Hazel saw it then - the lump that’d grown along his thigh in his Wranglers - and sucked in a sharp breath as he undid the button and tugged the zipper down. He groaned in relief as he released the pressure from his filling cock, and her eyes jerked up to his face to see the way that relief looked there.

Adam’s eyes rolled forward and he pushed his jeans down, one hand flattening on the wall by her head to balance his body as he stepped out of his jeans and boots. He was left looking down at her, his chest rising and falling, green eyes so dark they were nearly black as they pooled over her face. She wondered if his heart was beating as fast as hers was. Surely it was.

His body shifted as he lowered before her, his palms skimming the shape of her body as he knelt. He tilted his head back, gold curls spilling over his broad back, and looked up at her as she tipped her chin to her chest to look down at him. His hands slipped around her hips and into the fat of her ass, squeezing and pushing her toward his face. It brought his Roman nose against her pantyline, and he pushed it harder, exhaling a warm breath over the thin material before he kissed it over her clit. Shivers ran through her body again. Her hands landed on his firm shoulders.

Adam pressed his mouth more firmly against her panties, his tongue testing the material, teasing them as he pushed it between her lips but didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of actually tasting her. The tip swirled around her clit, inspiring more shivers down her thighs. She stuttered on a gasp as she leaned her head back and pushed her hips a little more eagerly toward him. As his mouth teased them both by tasting her through her panties, his fingers released the fat of her ass he’d gripped hard into (likely leaving prints of his hand in her skin) and crawled up toward the elastic of her panties. They curled and he slid them down, pulling his head back enough to pull them free, and she could fill his heavy, thick warm breath against her bare skin.

He leaned in slowly, and that warmth filled more and more of the crevices between her legs and then, languid, he pressed and slipped his tongue from the bottom of her pussy lips to the top, then swirled around and teased her clit. Hazel half-moaned, half-whined as her eyes rolled back and her hips pushed eagerly forward. Adam’s calloused palms slipped back to her ass and held her against his mouth as his feasting became more fervent. His tongue plunged between her folds, his lips latched to her sensitive, raised clit. His fingers gripped, released, and regripped the fat of her ass, pressing the prints of his hands in her skin. He released her clit only for the clever tip of his tongue to flick it back and forth in short, quick strokes, enough to make her take quicker, sharper breaths and release louder, needier moans. Her thighs trembled and he groaned against her pussy, vibrating where she was sensitive and a wet mess of cum and saliva. He held her even more firmly against his mouth and her eyes rolled back, lips hanging open but no sound coming out as she held her breath and reached the inevitable edge…

His tongue slipped off her clit and he pulled back. The air was cold against her pussy. Hazel released a shaking, confused breath and dropped her chin, eyes looking down as he looked up, kneeling between her legs. One of his blond brows was arched, lines wrinkling his forehead. He had a lazy grin, and she nearly felt dizzy when she saw how wet his lips and the beard around them was.

“Oh no, darlin,” he murmured, his voice husky and low as he slowly rose to be that warm shadow over her. “The first time I get you to cum,” his fingers were on her arms, gripping and rubbing up before dipping in and fondling her breasts. His thumbs swiped her raised, needy nipples, “my cock is going to be inside you.” He leaned and pushed his mouth against hers and as their tongues tangled, she tasted herself on him. As he broke their kiss and leaned in to leave a trail along her jaw, his nose in her hair and breath on her ear, he whispered, “I just needed to taste you first.”

One of his hands stayed on her hips, the other reached to shove his boxer-briefs down his hairy thighs. She felt his cock tap her thigh as it sprang free, but didn’t have much time to reflect on how long or thick it’d felt, or even glance down between their bodies to peek. Adam was already shuffling in and, gripping his arms underneath her ass, lifting her up off her feet. Hazel squealed in surprise, her legs forced around his hips as he bullied her back against the wall and used it for further support. She could feel the strength in his biceps as her hands landed on their curve, the muscle tense underneath. Her eyes flew to his and the moment their pupils locked, he slid her down smooth and wet on his cock.

A low moan crawled slowly out of his mouth, pushed inch by inch the more of his cock he sank inside her. Hazel held her breath, feeling the way his girth stretched her, until she was sat sac-deep on top of him. “Adam,” she whined, their gaze had broken when his eyes rolled back in pleasure and they snapped forward - black, not green - and met hers.

“God, Hazel,” his words were tight, his breath stuttered. He readjusted the grip on her body and lifted her up, then sank her back down. His hips pushed in as he carefully lowered her on top of him, enjoying each and every thrust. His eyes rolled back as he shuddered.

Hazel’s hands slid up his arms and around his neck, helping him as his hands gripped the back of her thighs. It was getting harder with sweat smearing over their skin and sticking them together. Her legs jerked with every thrust as they started to grow in speed at an almost reckless pace. He poured moans into her ear, pressing hot breaths into her hair. Those dirty sounds lifted into the tall beam ceiling of the stable and poured out of the open doors at the end of the walkway.

He pressed a kiss against her temple and then stilled, cock buried to the sac inside her. Hazel groaned - God, the way his thick girth stretched her - and rolled her eyes forward, chest heaving with the deep breaths she had to take. 

“I’m going to move us, alright?” He asked in her ear between heavy gasps of his own that stirred her hair.

Hazel nodded, and held a little tighter around his neck, pulling her body toward his as he grunted and moved her off the support of the wall. His cock slipped out of her in the shuffle and she squeezed, instinctively, missing the feeling of him filling her. Using his strong grip, with her legs hanging over his hips, he turned her toward the stalls, moving for the half-door that was still hanging open. It was the last stall she’d bedded down with over a foot of soft, fresh sawdust bedding, and that’s what he slowly lowered her down into, following on his knees. Hazel was amazed at his strength and control, her hands sliding from around his neck and palms pressing down the muscles in his arms.

Adam threw a shadow over her, smiling a lop-sided grin as he pressed his hips toward hers and pried her pussy lips apart with the head of his cock. With a grunt he slid down and pushed in, stretching her around him without enough time passed to grant either of them any sort of sanity. This is where they were now, making love in the stable, only the two of them and no one there to interrupt.

Their eyes locked for a few intimate strokes, her kiss-swollen lips stuck open, with soft little cries falling out of them each time he shoved the head of his cock deep inside her. Leaning down over her, Adam put his weight in one forearm, freeing the other hand to chase down their bodies. His fingers found that already teased little red button and twitched across it as he continued to fill her with his cock. Whether he meant to sync the strokes of his fingers with that of his cock or not, he was soon driving her wild, making her press her head into the give of the stall bedding and her fingers to grab a tight hold on him, wherever she could grab.

“Oh, God, Adam!” she managed to get out between sharp inhales, her brow knitting tight together as the pressure built nearly unbearably high inside her. She was so close...

“MmmHazel,” he groaned near her ear, pleasure undeniable in his stuck-together words. A low breath and then he exhaled a gentle command, “Cum for me, darlin’.”

Another circle of his fingers over her clit, a quick shove in of his cock, and a surprised cry was all that could fly out of her lips before her eyes were rolling and stars burst behind them. Her thighs trembled and clapped his, pressed up under her as they were. Her muscles pulled tight on him, her little cries and the way her fingernails bit into his shoulders more and more evidence to the way he’d driven her wild.

A gentleman, he slowed his thrusts through her pulses, gently rocking with each and clenching his jaw, clearly straining to keep himself from losing it inside her. He slowly pulled his fingers away from her sensitive little button and buried his hand into the gentle give of the sawdust by her head. Hazel’s eyes opened up dazedly on the golden curly haired cowboy above her, and saw his slow, proud smile crawl across his lips. If she wasn’t so out of it, she might’ve grabbed a handful of sawdust to chuck at him for how confident and cocky he looked right then.

“Jesus it took everything not to cum with you,” he murmured, his hips pulling back, then pressing in and starting to slowly fuck her again as he bent and pushed his lips against hers.

“Why didn’t you?” She barely had a voice when their mouths broke apart.

“I’ve been dreaming about being inside you-” he paused to groan as a particular slow stroke of his cock pressing deep inside her felt good “-for months now. Call me greedy, but,” another kiss, and he breathed the last of his words tight across her mouth as he slowly pulled his hips back, “I wanted a little bit more.”

Despite her entire body feeling like it was made out of jelly, Hazel had to agree. She wasn’t ready for their lovemaking to be over, either. Even if she didn’t know how she was even going to manage to stand once they were finally through. Adam readjusted himself, pushing his weight into his hands so he could sit upright between her legs. His palms settled on her wide hips and pinched, pulling her slowly, inch-by-inch off his girth, then tugging her back up. Hazel appreciated the new position, able to look up her naked body at Adam sweating, straining, and grunting as he pulled her up and down his cock. Every thrust made her breasts jerk and she watched his hungry eyes jump from where they were joined, watching his cock buried inside her, to her breasts instead and appreciate how each quick thrust made them move.

One of his hands left her hip and flattened on her soft midsection, thumb settling over her clit. As he circled it, Hazel groaned. She wasn’t sure she could get worked up enough for another orgasm so soon, that last one had been so strong. “Adam…”

That lop-sided grin barely tugged across his mouth again and his thumb left her alone just enough to gently press into her wet, just barely able to wiggle in there with his cock already stretching her. She moaned and he pulled it out quick, returning to her already teased clit. He swept her wet over it, teasing her as he started pounding his cock a little harder and a little faster into her. This time the stroking didn’t match the driving of his hips, but even when she would have sworn he must be close to cumming, he held off, instead continuing to tease her and draw her toward yet another orgasm. Hazel could do absolutely nothing to keep the dam from breaking.

“Adam!” She cried out and jerked over him, her skin slapping his. 

He grunted, still plunging in and out of her, tearing his hand away from her clit. Adam fell back over her, driving his cock inside her in quick, fast thrusts. Only a few inches were pulled out before he was shoved back in, all while she cried and came and twitched, eyes rolled back. She was too sensitive through her orgasm for his fast fucking, and it was just making her cum harder. He grunted, shoved himself sac-deep inside her, and then stilled to stone. 

It didn’t and couldn’t matter the way he had her scrunched and fucked into the layers of sawdust - they were both happy victims to their muscles seizing in their body and electricity rushing through their nerves. Hazel felt the warmth of his cum shooting hard up into her enough to make her cry out when it did. He flooded her cunt, filled her up, and then was a shuddering, almost too-warm weight above her just barely leaning off from crushing her underneath him as they caught their breath.

The last few minutes of their fucking had been so fast-paced, lost in her orgasm, that Hazel’s mind took a few minutes to catch back up. It seemed he did too. 

“That was…” he sighed, blinked and let his green eyes find her face. One of his hands reached up to delicately pluck the sawdust out of her hair, then pushed the lock from where it’d stuck to her face with sweat. His calloused palm fell to gently holding her cheek and Hazel smiled tiredly up at him. She felt at peace. Adam leaned down and softly laid a kiss against her forehead, then slowly one on each cheek, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. He didn’t deepen their kiss, but let it linger in a way that cherished the touch. Only when he broke away from her mouth and their eyes met did he finish the sentence he’d started a little bit ago. “Amazing.”

“Mhmm,” she murmured agreement and leaned up to steal another short kiss, still not able to have enough of him. When their lips broke he sank down, a warmth atop her, and they relaxed again in their joined company for a few quiet minutes. Her fingers traced random circles on his shoulder blades, and he was careful where to lay his weight so he didn’t smother her. He kissed her temple, and gently breathed against her ear. In the distance they heard one of the horses snort.

“We should probably get up and go shower,” he suggested, but didn’t bother moving his body off of her or even pull his slowly wilting cock from where it was still lodged between her legs. “We smell like sweat and sawdust and sex.”

“Sweat, sawdust, and sex. It has a nice ring to it.” She said, but couldn’t help but agree. The longer they lingered in the stall the more the pleasure that’d filled her head was slipping away and the more she could feel the slight uncomfortableness creeping in. The sweat and sawdust now made her skin feel a bit itchy, and she couldn’t deny that she’d appreciate a shower to clean herself of it. “But you’re right,” she sighed and lifted a hand (noticing how many little flakes were stuck on her arm and smiling) to gently run through his blond curls, “a shower would feel nice if I could get up.”

“Come on, come on,” he grunted, slowly pulling himself up from her and gently pulling his still-sensitive cock from between her legs. He reached a hand down to her once he’d stood and lifted her up. A grin split over his face at the shape of her body pressed into the bedding, as did the fact that most of her backside was covered in it. Sweeping a quick hand down her skin he helped shake most of it off, and though she was thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, the caresses of his work-calloused hands still inspired pleasurable shivers.

They gathered their clothes that’d been discarded in the walkway outside the stable, then giggled as they ran like children, hand-in-hand and naked as the day they were born across the yard and into the house.

“Thank God I don’t have any close enough neighbors!” Hazel laughed breathlessly once they were safely inside.

“I bet they would’ve appreciated the sight,” humor in his voice that matched the sparkle in his eyes, Adam was still grinning as he leaned to place a sweet kiss on her forehead, then gently smacked her bare ass with an open palm.

She rolled her eyes, but was still grinning too. 

It was strange that even though this was the first time Adam was in her home, it felt as though he’d been coming here for years. They walked down the hall and to her room, setting their clothes in the laundry basket, then moving for the master bath. Approaching the shower, Hazel turned the handle to start the water, sticking a hand under the stream to test the temperature.

“I wish I wasn’t leaving so early in the morning.” He said, coming up behind her. His hands settled like gentle weights on her hips and he held her there as they waited for the water to warm.

Hazel turned her head to look over at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “Me neither.” She sighed.

“I could always stay…”

“What about the rodeo?”

Adam rolled his eyes and tugged at her hips, pulling her and turning her around to face him. His arms wrapped lazily around her and he tilted his head, chin to chest as he locked his eyes with hers. A slight frown worried its way across his brow. “I’m already guaranteed a spot in the NFR, I can afford to miss a rodeo.”

She didn’t want to compare him to Matt, she didn’t want to do that when it wasn’t fair to do to Matt… but something in her heart that had been hurt by everything that happened between her and Matt lifted at the honesty in Adam’s tone. Still, as amazing as it was to have him, just thinking of Matt threatened to spread a crack across the dam that held back thoughts she couldn’t afford to let loose while Adam was here. As sure as she was that she and Matt were over, Adam was still his friend and was in his life. Regardless of her relationship with Matt, Adam still had one with him, and they’d complicated that by being together.

Why did the man who spoke to her heart in ways she’d never experienced have to be so close to the man she’d fallen in love with? Why couldn’t he have been some stranger she could run away with and not have to face any problems or think of all the ways she could have handled the situation better?

“You already paid the registry fees and trucked Dolly here,” she said with a smile she didn’t quite feel, but hoped he’d buy. “Go to your rodeo, we can pick another weekend to get together.” Then, she added, “Besides, I want to spend time bonding with my new horse.”

At that, Adam smiled. “Alright, alright.” His thumb gently massaged her hip and he bent to place a sweet kiss on her lips, then again on her forehead. He was full of sweet, sentimental touches. It was as if he had to make up for every moment he wasn’t able to offer romantic affection those months and months they hadn’t gotten to be with one another. Was he making up for lost time? Or could he simply not help but keep reaching for her while she was there in arm’s reach?

“The water’s probably warm enough now,” she murmured, still stuck in the warmth in his soft, green eyes.

“C’mon then darlin’,” he sighed and pulled his arms off of her so she could turn around and step into the shower. “Let’s get cleaned up, put the horses up and get something to eat.”

“Mm, that sounds like a perfect idea,” she agreed as the warm jets of water hit her and began to take the dirt and sweat off her body.

They wouldn’t have much time that evening to spend together. Adam needed to leave before the crack of dawn in order to get to the grounds with enough time to register, unload Dolly in the pens and check which bronc he’d be riding and then prepare accordingly. The way the pair of them functioned together honestly astonished Hazel somewhat. They were in such tandem, it felt like this was the hundredth time Adam had stayed the evening with her at her house.

After dinner they cuddled up on the couch with what little time they had, Carson and Callahan lying in their beds and the television on low on a repeat of a show neither of them were paying much mind to. Instead, Hazel and Adam had taken to giggling and talking among each other, teasing each other as they flowed with ease from topic to topic, avoiding anything too deep or painful and simply enjoying one another’s company. Hazel remembered how Adam had told her it was like she was able to say the things he was thinking before he said them and early on, she realized she felt the same way about him. It was like something in their minds just… clicked.

Like they were always meant to be. They had that inexplicable bond. That once in a lifetime sort of thing that couldn’t be forced. It just was.

Eventually as the night wound down she was lying on his chest, dozing softly off to sleep. On the coffee table a phone started to vibrate with an incoming call. Her phone, in fact, lying face down. It gently moved as the vibrations disturbed it from where it sat.

“You’re getting a call, darlin’.” His soft voice gently ushered. He ran a wide palm up and down her arm to rouse her from falling asleep.

“Mmm,” she sank deeper and kept her eyes shut. It was too warm and peaceful here in his arms to pull herself free. “If it’s important they’ll leave a message.”

He chuckled and she felt it rumble in his chest.

“Well, let’s at least head off to bed then. I have to be up in…” he groaned as he reached to get his phone and check the time, “Ugh. Four hours.”

She made a small noise of complaint that she’d have to move, but let him gently encourage her upward so he could slip out from under her. He leaned in and pulled her up to her feet, reaching to grab her phone and setting it in her hand. Hazel grabbed it as she rubbed her eyes and yawned, clicking the power off on the television and stumbling toward the bedroom. Callahan and Carson hopped up to follow, tails wagging, clearly happy it was bedtime.

Adam flipped her comforters back as they went into the room and only once she was securely snuggled up, phone set face-down on the nightstand nearby did he begin flicking off lights and making a careful path toward the other side of the bed. Carson and Callahan jumped shamelessly up and curled in tight little balls at the end of the bed, warming her feet. She thought of shooing them to their beds on the floor, but Adam babytalked them as he got into bed and leaned to give them both scratches behind the ear as he told them goodnight and finally slipped in beside her. It made her smile and then his warm arm came around her waist and he slid her across the bed toward him.

“Goodnight Hazel,” he whispered against her ear, placing another kiss tenderly on her temple. Hazel hoped that soft, loving touch stayed through her dreams to encourage the very kindest of them and that she’d still feel it when she awoke the next morning.

Hours later - though she wasn’t entirely aware of the time - she was stirred awake by Adam’s soft voice. He wasn’t even in bed with her anymore, but standing bedside, bent over and gently brushing her hair out of her face as he talked to her in hushed tones.

“I have to get going.” Regret colored his tone and through the mental fog brought on by sleep, she barely managed to make a soft, disagreeing groan. It made him chuckle and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He stayed near enough that she could feel his next breaths warm across her face. “I know, I know. I wish I didn’t need to go either. I’ll call you when I get to the rodeo grounds.”

“Mmkay,” Hazel agreed sleepily, and then groaned. “Daisy needs breakfast…” It was only four in the morning and she could probably wait for a few more hours, but if Adam was going to be taking Dolly out of the stable a flake of hay to keep Daisy distracted at being alone might be kind of nice.

“You just stay sleeping,” Adam hushed her and tucked her in a little more under the blankets, giving her shoulder a soft rub. “I’ll see that Daisy has food and her water bucket is cleaned out before I take off, okay?”

“Mm… mhm.” Her eyelids were already closing despite wanting to keep them open to look at what she could see of him in the dark pre-dawn light of her room.

“Alright,” he laughed and kissed her forehead again. “I’ll call you later darlin’.”

“Mmkay…” she mumbled again into her pillow. “Be safe.”

“I will, promise.”

She listened to the sound of his boots fading away down the hall, then the door jingle before it softly shut and then silence. She meant to listen to every single sound she could catch, even the far away ones out the window. She wanted to hear clear up to the rumble of the truck starting and the sound of tires on gravel, but before she knew it she was already drifting back to sleep. The sheets still smelled like him and she wrapped her arms around the pillow he’d been using and tucked it in close to her body, pressing her face into it and feeling the way her body relaxed with the next breath she took before sleep had her again.

When she awoke she felt confused. “Adam?” She muttered groggily, inhaling and smelling him before she cracked her eyelids open and looked down at the pillow she was still holding on to. She frowned, reaching to rub the sleep from her eyes before the hushed morning came back to her of Adam getting dressed as quietly as he could and giving her a quick goodbye kiss. A smile melted across her lips, thinking of the evening they’d shared. It wasn’t even the sex she thought of first - though that was certainly worth remembering - but the hours after when they’d just shared each other’s company. Even when they hadn’t been talking, Hazel had felt so complete with him.

She shook her head and laughed breathlessly. How long had it been since she’d felt that open with another man? Matt… She sucked in her breath and opened her eyes a little wider. 

She felt open with Matt and comfortable with him, and when he was with her she felt warm and safe and cared for. But those were the good times, not all these painful conversations and lack thereof that had followed. No, the times she was soft and honest with him and he was with her were what she missed. Or when they could be in-person together, or those late night calls where neither of them wanted to hang up and they just started talking about everything and anything, swapping stories and growing closer. Those days the cocky front of Matt Jackson, Rodeo Champion, slipped away and she saw the gentle, caring, sensitive man underneath. Her heart ached swiftly enough that she felt the need to catch her breath. She missed those phone calls. She missed Matt.

Tears stung in her eyes and she cleared her throat and blinked them away. What right did she have to cry? How could she lie here and miss Matt when Adam had been a warm body in her bed not three hours prior?

Rolling over she reached toward her nightstand to grab her phone, turning it over so the screen would light up and show her what time it was. Notification banners for things she’d missed - mainly social media mentions - popped up, as did one for a missed call. She’d nearly forgotten late last night when she’d been just about to fall asleep on Adam that he’d said she was getting a call.

Missed Call: Matt 💗

Her heart sank and she nearly dropped her phone.

New Voicemail: Matt 💗

Hazel stared at the little red bubble indicating the missed message. Every piece of wonderful paradise the last twenty-four hours had been evaporated almost immediately, taken over by guilt. Was he calling to apologize while she was wrapped up peacefully in the arms of one of his closest friends? Attempting to stop her anxious spiral of thoughts, she realized she could be overthinking. The call could be Matt telling her it was time they talked, that he’d taken the week to think about what they’d said and had decided she was right, he just wasn’t ever going to be ready for a relationship. It could be him deciding they needed to give each other a proper goodbye instead of ghosting each other.

Tears burned in her eyes and she told herself again that she had no right to them or to the way her heart felt like it was being slowly, painfully squeezed. She’d spent the night before with her legs wrapped around one of his closest friends, moaning as he filled her with his cum. How could she now be heartbroken over the thought of Matt calling to tell her they should talk and end it all?

But what if… what if he was calling to apologize? What if he was calling to tell her he’d taken the week to think about it and realized he was being foolish and she was right and there was no reason they shouldn’t be in a relationship now?

There was only going to be one way to know what Matt had been wanting to say. 

She looked at the unplayed message, still looking up at her with it’s little red bubble. Her finger hovered over to bring the voicemail screen up where she could begin to play it and found she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hit play. Not when every breath still drug touches of Adam into her lungs and she could hear his moans fresh in her ears.

**********

“Hey, Adam! When did you get in?” Nick’s voice carried over the crowd as Adam stopped in step, turning to glance over his shoulder as he watched his friend’s approach. He turned to face him and shrugged.

“A little after eleven. I hit the registry table and got caught up talking with Kenny. Haven’t even unloaded Dolly yet.”

“Well that’s good news,” Nick smiled his characteristic large, happy, easy-going grin. He was wearing a dark brown carhartt jacket over his button-up and it reminded Adam he wanted to go back to his truck to grab his. The days were getting chillier and chillier the closer to the winter months they drew.

“Why’s it good news?”

“We kept one of the pens clear by our boys so Dolly would have familiar company. Matt’s been sitting on the fence this morning keeping anyone else from claiming it.”

“I appreciate that.” Adam said with a grin, though he had to fight to keep it through a sudden surge of discomfort that crawled through him at the mention of Matt. He immediately thought of Hazel.

“It’s no problem. I’ll show you where we’re at so you can bring Dolly over. Come on.”

Adam and Nick fell in step beside one another.

“It’s been good for Matt to have something to keep his mind occupied anyways. He’s been getting into conversations with anyone who stops by to see if the pen is clear or not.”

“Oh?” Adam said idly. In truth he didn’t want to know why Matt needed to keep his mind occupied. He had a sneaking suspicion he at least knew somewhat what it might be about.

“Yeah.” Nick said, and there seemed something briefly heavy in the sigh that followed. “But we’re right over here.” He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and waved over to where his and Matt’s roping geldings were lounging in one of the temporarily set-up white pipe-fence pens. Beside them was another one, empty and ready for Adam’s mare.

“Hey, Matt, look who I found wandering around the parking lot.” Nick called out as he leaned up against the gate. Immediately his gelding shuffled close, pressing its muzzle into his jacket and whuffing big, warm breaths that made the man giggle. Nick scratched the horse's forehead, ruffling its mane. Adam looked from Nick to Matt or, tried to, but found it was actually hard for him to look at Matt.

His lips pulled in a thin smile he hoped still looked polite and he glanced away. He tried not to notice how troubled Matt’s face looked before he smiled and nodded.

“Morning, Adam. Glad you got here safe.”

“Thanks,” he said and glanced at his boots. “I uh, better go get Dolly.” He said with another tight grin to Nick, hoping no one picked up on how badly he suddenly needed to get away.

As he made for where he’d parked the trailer he found himself getting angry for feeling guilty. Matt never had any trouble with women for as long as Adam had known him. Every rodeo they pulled into it seemed Matt had some pretty little thing hanging off of him and giggling by the end of the night. Adam could be just as lucky too, but all those cute girls with their pretty smiles and admiring stares never really caught his attention. They made him feel nervous and oftentimes the attraction felt empty. 

Then came Hazel, the first woman to make him actually care about something other than his career. Why did Matt have to have eyes for her to? She was beautiful, sure, but she was so much more than that. It wasn’t fair that Matt got to hold on to her like she was something he’d cherish when he got to have any girl he wanted with ease. Plus, he clearly wasn’t doing a good job taking care of her. Adam had felt the way she clung hard onto him when he’d first showed up at her house. And if the tables had been turned and Hazel had asked him if they could date he never would have bookmarked that conversation for later. 

Because the moment Adam had looked in her eyes he’d seen the eyes their future kids would have. The first time their lips had touched he’d sworn he’d heard church bells and the cheers of their loved ones filling the church he married her in.

Adam was sure if he could get Hazel to see how deep their connection was by the time Matt and her talked after the NFR she’d be more in love with him and would tell Matt they wouldn’t work. It was a shitty plan and a shitty thing to do as Matt’s so-called friend, but Adam’s loneliness had made him into something he wasn’t entirely proud of. So be it. He was tired of letting life pass him up because he wanted to do the right thing. No one else seemed to be so worried about doing what was right and they were getting what they wanted. It was finally time for Adam to get what he wanted.

Yet here he was, suffering guilt he hadn’t foreseen. Adam sucked hard at the back of his teeth as he popped the trailer door, carefully unloading Dolly. He rubbed her neck and sighed, deciding he’d do his best to put it all out of his mind that weekend and not act on it. He’d already texted Hazel early on to let her know he’d gotten there safely, and smiled when he got her message back telling him good luck and she’d be watching the live feed of his ride later on.

“That’s what I’ll focus on, eh girl?” He asked Dolly as they made their way toward the pens, her shod hooves gently clipping the dirt and gravel parking lot. Instead of spending his day worrying about how Matt would feel if he found out Adam had slept with Hazel, he’d think about her behind one of the few cameras pointed at the ring. He’d think about her sitting on her couch, cheering him on with her dogs getting hyper at her yelling and starting up a good-natured ruckus.

It made him smile just picturing it.

**********

The rodeo weekend turned out to be a moderate success. He and Nick had run well enough to maintain their leadership spot heading into the NFR, though he’d been distracted and hadn’t done what he knew to be his best. This would be one of the nights he would have talked down about his run just to listen to his friends encourage him with everything he’d done right, or even take their advice if they noticed what he’d missed. He’d refuse to tell them it was because he was preoccupied, but he knew he didn’t need to tell his brother that. After their first run had been less than fluid, Nick’s only words to Matt had been: She hasn’t called yet?

And Matt had felt like he was letting Nick down by having his personal life affect their scores. Still, it wasn’t as if he could help himself. Every waking second was full of Hazel. It was almost torture. He saw her out of the corner of his eyes in the crowd and felt his heart leap and sink all at the same time as he whipped his head to see if he could catch her, only to realize it was someone who just vaguely resembled her.

It’d been wrong to wait an entire week to contact her, but he’d been… Well… He’d been scared. He’d never felt the way he felt for another woman like he did Hazel. He liked women, but not enough to let them take any place in his life beside the rodeo. With Hazel? He was actually considering it. Hell, the way she occupied his mind that weekend she might as well have been there sharing the days with him. 

He’d thought of calling her all week, but the more time passed that she didn’t call him left him wondering if he was making a mistake. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she said he was already hurting her, and how awful that made him feel to know. He didn’t like hurting the people he cared about - the people he loved - even if he hadn’t meant to do so. Maybe her not calling him was supposed to be his hint that she was over what they’d been doing? Maybe it was too late? Maybe he’d already lost her...

But two days ago, late Friday night, he’d finally got up the courage to call her. He’d missed her, and as his heart pounded in his throat and his body felt shaky he listened to the call ring and ring and ring… then click over to voicemail.

When she hadn’t called back right away he assumed she was already asleep and he’d hear from her the next day. Saturday stretched on and on, every time his phone buzzed he jumped thinking it was her, only to feel his heart sink when it wasn’t. He hadn’t been able to sleep. Matt couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way.

By the end of the second day his patience was worn thin. Hurt was quickly turning to anger, especially when he was so adapted to pushing away these feelings in the first place. She wasn’t even going to call him just to tell him she didn’t want to see him anymore? After all they’d been through? This was why he didn’t date. This was why he didn’t let anything go beyond a night with a pretty girl at a rodeo. This was all the stuff he didn’t want to take his focus away from what was important. This was why he let himself have fun and kissed the women who fawned over him after the show, but didn’t bother to keep their names in his phone.

The fact that his and Nick’s runs had been subpar just proved all those points he’d been telling himself all along. He really didn’t need this kind of bullshit.

Not even a text message?

Neurotic, he did what he’d been doing all weekend and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, clicking his and Hazel’s last text messages, seeing they were still the old message, then over to the call log to see he still hadn’t missed any calls from her. Still nothing. 

“Hey there, handsome.”

He frowned at the screen, not hearing the voice that’d been practically right in front of him.

“Hellooo?”

His brown eyes jumped over the top of his phone and down at the cute little cowgirl standing in front of him. She had short brown hair tucked under her cowgirl hat and pretty blue-green eyes that glimmered up at him. If his mind wasn’t so preoccupied by Hazel, he might’ve immediately realized that this girl was damn gorgeous and she was looking up at him with a look he knew all too well.

“Sorry,” he laughed dryly and clicked his phone screen back to black, shoving it into his jeans.

“Expecting a call?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Y-” He cleared his throat. “No.”

“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes like she was trying to decide if she believed him or not. “You sure you’re not waiting on a call? Maybe from a wife or- well… -” His fingers tingled as she gently grasped his hand and turned it, seeing no ring. “A girlfriend?”

She was bold, he’d give her that.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” The words almost hurt to get out when they used to be so smooth to say.

“Really?” She asked, half surprised, half pleased. “Hard to believe a handsome cowboy like you is single. I saw how good you handled that rope earlier…” She’d gently stroked her finger over the back of his right hand she’d been holding. She gave it a little squeeze before she let it go, a small curl of the edge of her lips speaking to a kind of mischief he was usually all too eager to pursue.

“That’s nothing,” he laughed dryly, “That wasn’t my best performance. You should see how good I normally am.” A little bitter sting at his runs this weekend. He knew he was better than that.

“Oh?” She leaned in a little and he could smell her. Vanilla. Sunshine, despite the fact that it was late Sunday night and there were stars twinkling in the sky above. Nothing like Hazel’s warm caramel coffee and fresh baked goods, which he attributed her smelling like because of her coffee shop. He felt a pang of sadness that the woman hanging on his front didn’t smell like Hazel, then decided that was better and took a deeper breath. The more of her he breathed in, the less of Hazel he’d remember.

That’s what he needed right now. This. To remember who he was and why he did this - slept with pretty women at rodeos and didn’t get attached to them - instead of dating. They didn’t know one another, but he felt like the woman he was talking to understood exactly what she was getting into. Or maybe he just wanted to tell himself that so he didn’t feel guilty about what he was going to do next.

Matt turned his hand so he could hold hers instead of her holding his, then he ran his touch up her arm and slipped his warm, calloused palm on her round cheek. He tilted her face toward his and gave her a smile he knew made most girls weak in the knees.

“What’s your name?” The pad of his thumb skimmed her lower lip and his mouth broke gently apart as his eyes fell to trace the touch. She had the prettiest lips… 

“Josie.” She murmured, his thumb staying with the movement.

“Josie,” he repeated, and his smile deepened. “That’s pretty.”

It was getting easier and easier to forget his pain… or so he kept telling himself. Matt leaned in and slipped his thumb away, holding her face as his lips brushed hers. Guilt twisted in his stomach as, behind his closed eyelids, he suddenly saw Hazel’s face and it felt strange, not tasting Hazel as he kissed this woman he didn’t know.

But she leaned up, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to pull him down closer and their mouths opened, tongues slipping along each other’s and he remembered to stop thinking about Hazel. He kissed Josie harder, dropping his hand to her hip and pulling her tighter against his body. He liked to feel it bounce off his. Surely the more and more turned on he got the more he’d stop thinking about Hazel anyways. He needed to. Hazel had clearly forgotten about him so he needed to forget about her.

She had probably spent the last week with that other guy she’d met. That's why she hadn’t called him back. She was already off with someone else who could be there for her. His fear had become reality.

Matt’s fingers squeezed tighter on Josie’s hips and her excited squeal melted warm in his mouth. A hiss of a laugh out of his nose and he turned them around, flattening her back on the fencepost as he bent his head and kissed her closer. He had to be kissing her hard enough that the coarse hair of his beard was scratching her skin. Her hat had been knocked back and off at their feet, but neither seemed to want to stop long enough to grab it. Matt’s hands slipped from around her hips and dug into the fat of her ass, pressing her even closer to his front. He grunted as she rubbed her leg on his thigh.

“What the fuck is this?” A sudden voice threw ice water over the heat that was stirring up between them.

Matt leaped off her as though touching her burned his hands, turning with wild eyes to see Adam having come around the corner and stopping short, staring at them both. His eyes left Josie and focused on Matt. Why did he look so angry?

“Mind your own business Adam, what the hell do you think this is?” Matt growled and made a conscious decision to step closer to Josie. He didn’t want her to think she’d done anything wrong, so he put a hand back on her hip and pulled her close to him.

“You’re…” Adam shook his head and laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“I’m what?” Now he slipped away from holding onto Josie, turning toward his friend with a frown digging hard across his brow. All the emotions stirred up inside him were leading him somewhere he knew he shouldn’t be. It was like a runaway train and he was helpless to stop it. “Finish your fucking sentence if you’re going to bother interrupting me.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” Adam glanced at the woman next to him, then back at Matt. “What about Hazel?”

“What about Hazel, Adam?” Matt scoffed and took a step toward him. “Where do you get off commenting on my relationship? You don’t even know Hazel, and whatever is going on between her and I is between her and I, you understand?”

They’d drawn in close enough that they were nearly standing nose to nose. Matt had never seen Adam this worked up and it made him even angrier to see it. Since when did Adam have any say in Matt’s relationships?

Or maybe it was because everything Adam was saying was a tangible culmination of the guilt he’d been trying to ignore.

Of course, the fact that he’d feel guilt just made him angrier. Hadn’t he said enough when he’d called her? If she’d listened to his voicemail and chosen not to call him that was all the answer he needed. He didn’t need to sit around moping over it. He was a grown adult, Hazel was a grown adult and even though they’d apparently chosen a messy way to end their almost-relationship, it was clearly over.

So again, what gave Adam any right to comment on it? What right did Adam have to be angry with Matt, anyways?

The tense moments crept by in seconds that felt drawn out into minutes.

Adam shook his head and broke eye-contact first, looking down between them as he smiled and sucked at the back of his teeth. “Whatever, Matt.” He turned and walked away and Matt let him, even though his fist was curled at his side and some rage-fueled part of his brain told him it would have felt good to hit Adam for that look. For trying to make him feel guilty for something he didn’t know or understand.

The quiet permeated the small area as Adam left and Matt half expected when he turned around he’d find Josie had made her exit, deciding her attempt to get a hook-up with him wasn’t worth all this personal drama. He couldn’t blame her, really.

“So, who’s Hazel?”

He was surprised when she spoke up, though his shoulders tensed.

“She’s…” he turned and looked at Josie, who had her brow cocked as she looked at him. At some point she’d bent to pick her hat up and dusted it off before setting it back on her head. “It doesn’t matter who she is.” He tried not to pay attention to the little sting on his heart to say it. “She’s not here.”

“I am.” Josie said boldly with a smile, drawing in closer to him.

“Yeah.” Matt turned to face her fully again and put the anger in Adam’s eyes out of his mind along with all the uncertainties and emotions that came with thinking about Hazel. “You are.”

He leaned down and put his mouth back on hers, deciding he was ready to just forget everything and go back to his old ways. It may not have given him the wholeness he’d felt with Hazel, but it hadn’t given him this kind of pain, either.

**********

TEXT FROM: Rosie

Have you listened to it yet?

Hazel read the message on her phone after tugging it from her jeans. She’d just untacked and cooled Daisy down from their ride, giving her a good rub down before she turned her loose in the arena. Hazel bit at her lip and replied.

TEXT TO: Rosie

Not yet…

She knew she needed to. Late Friday evening Matt had called and left a voicemail on her phone which she’d seen Saturday morning after Adam left. She knew she’d needed to listen to it, but every time she clicked her voicemails and prepared herself, she chickened out. She and Adam had talked a little in text and once on the phone, but she hadn’t told him about the missed call. It already seemed wrong enough that Adam knew about her deal with Matt and everything else, but Matt had been kept completely in the dark through the whole thing.

She hadn’t told Adam she’d tuned in to the rodeo’s live stream early enough to catch the tag roping to watch Matt’s runs, either.

Now it was Tuesday afternoon, with the sunset just a few short hours away. Hazel needed to do the adult thing and listen to the message. If it was Matt saying his goodbyes then she needed to accept the reality that was dealt to her that things were really over between them. She and Adam could begin figuring out how they’d eventually be together and maybe, in time, her heart wouldn’t hurt every time she saw or heard from Matt. 

TEXT FROM: Rosie

Babe…

Hazel sighed.

TEXT TO: Rosie

I know, I know.

Rosie had told her days ago to listen to it and had even gone as far as to offer to listen to it for her. Hazel had appreciated it, but she knew she needed to listen to it herself.

She also knew it was wrong of her to have taken this long. She just wasn’t ready to feel the full brunt of the heartbreak she hadn’t anticipated. She hadn’t even meant to fall in love in the first place.

She almost laughed then, realizing that she’d never even told him she was in love with him and now they were probably through.

Hazel drew a breath and leaned on the arena fence, trying not to think about the day she, Matt, his brother and all their friends had all come together to build it. She shook her head and clicked her phone off her text message conversation with Rosie and to her voicemail screen. Right there on top was his unread message, still waiting for her as it had been for days. Hazel clicked it and felt her stomach drop, lifting to hold the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Hazel? It’s Matt. Listen… I…” His voice was heavy. He sighed. “I know our last call didn’t go great and I know me not calling or texting you hasn’t helped. To tell you the truth I’ve been… I’ve been freaked out. I don’t do good when I’m… well, I’m not used to being scared like this. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but Hazel, I care about you more than I’ve cared about someone in - hell - forever. I care about you like I care about Nick, except not like - he’s my brother and you… well. You get it. Look, I know I’m not making much sense and I’m having trouble figuring out what I’m trying to say. I had it all in my head and kept practicing what I wanted to tell you this whole week. The thing is, Hazel, I think there’s a chance I’m…” He trailed off and her heart beat so fast she felt sick. “Well… I know I don’t have any right to keep asking you to hang on, and I know you’re right, there’s no difference if we date now or if we date later but… I want to do this thing right, you know? When we… Hell...if we decided to be more official. I want to be there for you full-time, not when I’m preoccupied with the rodeo season. Does that make sense? Maybe it doesn’t… I don’t know. I just… all I know is that I miss you, Hazel, and I can’t stop thinking about our last call. Just… listen… if you still want us to maybe work toward something, give me a call back, alright? I know I’m not perfect and I know I’m pretty terrible at this relationship thing and I know you met someone else and I keep thinking it’s pry better for you to have someone who can take care of you right while I keep making all these mistakes but… damnit, Hazel.” His voice had gotten tight and she realized he was fighting off tears. “I think I’m… I think I’m falling in love with you and that scares the shit out of me. You don’t owe me anything, you don’t even have to call me back, but I really, really hope you will.”

The message clicked and Matt’s voice was gone.

Hazel took a sharp, shaky breath that tasted like tears. The vision of Dolly standing in the far corner of the arena blurred as more tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks, cold as they slipped and fell one after the other to the dirt below.

[puppy-phum]

thank you once again @yibobibo​ for tagging me ♥ even if, like I said, this is pure torture. I have so many sons that I’ve given up on counting them sigh but here goes.

favourite male fictional characters.

I took it that this meant ten so am going with that (tho am not gonna try and put them into order). am also sticking to all the characters I loved this year. and gonna ramble and add gifs so cutting it here. 

1. Liu Sang

The Lost Tomb Reboot/Reunion: The Sound of The Providence

I have so much love for this boy it’s not even healthy. it’s a bit funny tho bc once I started tltr, I didn’t really like him and almost forgot about him as the first season ended. he just felt so annoying and bitter in what I saw him, even if I did get that he had a Tragic BackstoryTM (I felt for him but well. tltr really made him hard to like at first). but then they brought him back in the second season with his sad puppy eyes and inability to handle his thoughts on wu xie and being all touch-starved and pitiful and whatnot and baam, I had the adoption papers ready. he’s wonderful and so strong and so smart and amazing. and liu chang as his actor has been wonderful (and he’s so pretty my god, have you seen him??)

2. Shen Wei

Guardian

never did I expect to just. fall into this hole after a year? I remember what a mess I was when I first watched guardian over a year ago, right after finishing the untamed. I was in shambles even as I knew how it would end. and now I’ve done this all again while also reading the novel and. my love for shen wei, especially bc it’s zhu yilong acting as shen wei? astronomical. I want to write poetry about him and his stupid responsibilities that he chooses to carry silently and his devotion to zhao yunlan and his love for his ppl and his didi and. I hope that one day I manage to write weilan bc I have this one idea and you can come pry it from my cold, dead fingers if it doesn’t get out there (am also super happy about the edit I made bc my god does he deserve at least that)

3. Cloud Strife

Final Fantasy VII

ok so stepping into the video games territory now. I was waiting for the remake like crazy and it was everything to me once the quarantine hit during spring. the game is so beautiful and I felt like I looked at this gorgeous boy once and was ready to give him my heart (tbh am quite sure he owned my heart before I even learned to know him). he is tragic in so many ways (I’ve only scratched the surface of all of his pain I know) and I wish I could just. hug him a lot. he is kind and cares very deeply even if he hates to show it and I love it how remake showed him also just being a human disaster (some of his scenes are just. peak comedy). I would kill for his smile (I have already cried for it a dozen)

4. Geralt of Rivia

The Witcher (The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt)

if there’s one grumpy, brickwall of a man I love, it’s geralt. I affectionately call him “papa wolf” while playing witcher 3 and his voice in it does things to me (I am just so fond of him ok, begone you dirty fuckers). I got introduced to him through the books and adored him in them bc he is so prickly and sarcastic and still so full of love even if he will never admit to it. he is the father figure I wish I could have in real life. (and yes, I’ve seen the tv series (or at least a couple of the first episodes) and it looks stunning but. this is my version of geralt and that’s the hill I will die on)

5. Xiaoge

Zhang Qiling, Daomu Biji (The Lost Tomb 2)

(wow finding a gif for him was a pain, apparently I gotta learn how to gif or?) ah, my dear boy who I’ve ended up just calling xiaoge bc he seems to prefer it over his real name/title/whatever zhang qiling really is. I got introduced to him through tltr where we really didn’t get to know that much about him bc he was just... there. huang junjie was absolutely stunning tho and his soft smiles made me super fond, but only in the lost tomb 2 did I really fall in love with xiaoge as a character. I was surprised tbh bc I didn’t expect it to be this drama? I had so many doubts about the cast in tlt2 but they all delivered! and I think cheng yi’s xiaoge is now my favorite bc he somehow captured that softness and the pain of him? (and we do not talk about that buxun storyline tyvm) tho now that ultimate note is on the way, I gotta say that xiao yuliang does a wonderful job as xiaoge too!

6. Wu Xie

Daomu Biji (Ultimate Note)

(sorry we have to go with a pingxie gif now but maybe it’s only fitting) tbh it’s hard to choose my favorite version of wu xie. I think all of the actors for him have done amazing job showing wu xie in different parts of his life (all of them are very distinct but still feel like the same person) but currently zheng shunxi takes the lead. I really wanted to put the reboot version of him here (bc I love that mature, relaxed and somehow very soft version of him and the angst is phenomenal and the thoughts he has about death... yeah) but I already have zhu yilong’s face here once so :’D wu xie is just one of those characters you cannot not like. he is so strong, so kind, so stubborn, so wonderfully stupid sometimes and in need of careful protection. I also adore it how smart he is and I could listen to him spew history facts for 10 hours straight (even if it was in a tomb full of blood zombies) ♥

7. Jiang Cheng

Jiang Wanyin, The Untamed

my darling boy! my beautiful angry grape! I love him beyond words. I love him in all of his raging, misunderstood, stupid, sassy, constipated, abused, tragic, bitter, big hearted glory. I could write novels about him (and I did and am still writing oh boy) and his love for ppl and his inability to show that love and his loneliness and his issues. I could also write another novel for all of his outfits etc. bc damn, what a fashion king. he is just so great. he owns my soul. he deserves happiness and in this essay I will

8. Isana Yashiro

Adolf K. Weismann, K Project

I rewatched k project this spring bc a) it’s one of my favorite animes ever (it just looks stunning with all the colors) and b) I love yashiro to bits. I remember falling in love with him when I first watched k project many years ago bc he was just so kind and bright. this time though, I ended up seeing another side of him and my god did I cry. he is... so sweet. he cares for others so deeply and is ready to sacrifice so much for them and his love for his two clansmen... yeah. I think I finally saw the tragedy of him too, all the pain and loneliness and insecurity he decides to hide behind his smile and obnoxious personality. he reminded me a lot of myself and watching him made my heart bleed in a good way

9. Qi Tiezui

Ba Ye, The Mystic Nine

(wow am going to riot for the lack of all the gifs hhh) yes, we’re continuing with the dmbj universe that sucked me in big time this year. the drama of the mystic nine wasn’t probably that earth shattering for me as it somehow got boring more than once but I did love ba ye to bits. he was just... so nice? I got it that he was somehow this “comedic relief” in the drama with all of his funny scenes and ridiculous mannerisms but I could see the brilliance of him. he is warm and smart and kind of a romantic too and he cares for all of his friends so deeply? it was also sweet how protective of him his two zhangs were (does that run in the family? the tendency to imprint into one smart but disastrous man and keep him safe? maybe) and I really hope I knew more about him bc he seemed to have a lot of knowledge and a lot of impact to ppl’s lives (I yelled when they mentioned him in ultimate note, I miss him ;;)

10. Dorian Pavus

Dragon Age Inquisition

(yes I’ve been replaying DA:I this year, this counts!) another darling boy! my lovely sass master son! I have so much love for him and his story in DA:I. he is my favorite companion (and his romance is my favorite too, probably obvious in the way am currently romancing him for the third time) and he has given me a lot of strength. the way he stands up against his father, how he’s ready to reform his homeland instead of walking away, how he’s so caring for those he sees struggling... it’s very warming and I feel like I’m safe with him. it feels a bit silly to say that but he really is that comfort character I will seek out when I just want to know am doing fine :’) (and I am so excited to see him again in DA4! probably?)

+ 11. Li Cu

Tomb of the Sea

yes I cheated a bit (with my own rules lol) to fit li cu here. I didn’t really expect to like him or tomb of the sea as much as I did once I started it? I’ve seen leo wu elsewhere before this (battle through the heavens, nirvana in fire) and his face always makes me think about a sad puppy so maybe I just grew fond over li cu instantly bc he was... so hurt? the first episode really slaps you in the face with all of it, showing him being abused, wounded, kidnapped, tortured, used and then just very, very scared and broken. he continues being that throughout the whole drama and I feel like tomb of the sea (or sand sea or sha hai idk) is the darkest and angstiest story in the dmbj universe. I know it deserves to be bc this is a dark time for wu xie but... my darling li cu. I wish him only happiness ;; he was so strong and smart and wonderful in this and it was just so amazing to watch him grow and find his own place in the world just bc he did something himself (even when he got dragged into all of this bc of wu xie) also I support the wu xie adopts li cu -agenda

Honorary mentions: 

Zhang Rishan, Xie Yuchen and Hei Xiazi from DMBJ universe. The Twin Jades of Gusu and Ouyang Zizhen from The Untamed. The Iron Bull and Fenris from Dragon Age games. Thane Krios, Kaidan Alenko and Jaal from Mass Effect games. The whole lot of Assassin’s Creed protagonists (especially Ezio Auditore and Shay Cormac). Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch from The Raven Cycle. Neil Josten from All For The Game. Eduon and March from The Smoke Thieves. Qiling from L.O.R.D. Critical World. Luo Fei from Detective L (played by Bai Yu). 

well, with this I can really see that I have a thing for those who are tragic :’D I have a thing for grumpy, prickly and antisocial guys or those who hide their pain behind a smile. maybe it’s bc I am somehow both, even if I can’t show my anger or be mean to others and even if I feel like my smile never sticks either. I just find kinship in all of the characters who are on this list. and I feel like I aspire to be as strong and as kind and as loving despite all the pain I’ve been put through.  

thank you, this was so much fun! and sorry I made this so long and so complicated ^^’ but well, there are just way too many male characters I love haha

at the end I want to tag @i-am-just-a-kiddo​ @ashenwren​ @kholran​ @tiesanjiao​ @lan-xichens​ @aheartfullofjolllly​ @manhasetardis​ and @lzswy​​ ♥ feel free to do this in your own way or not at all! and thank you if you managed to read through my rambling :’D

[meloncubedradpops]

Repo! The Corona Opera

For every rotation that Earth has completed around the sun since the dawn of humanity, humans have created art to cope with the realities surrounding our everyday life. We weave stories in songs, movies, plays, books, paintings, and so forth, that help digest the world around us and provide an entertaining escape from the cruelties we endure. Some stories take place in abstract universes or in the future, and we rely on what we know in our present reality to build upon these fantasy societies. My favorite movie, Repo! the Genetic Opera, certainly makes this list. We are currently experiencing perhaps the most surreal year of our collective lives, and with each passing day I argue that we find ourselves closer to the world crafted in Repo. I have seen this movie, at least 20 times. If you haven't watched Repo! the Genetic Opera or you haven't seen it in a while, I recommend giving it a view. The movie is unique in that it falls under three distinct genres: musical, horror, and sci-fi. And while the jury is out on whether our future society is going to go full on gothic aesthetic, I can say that the Repo! movie experience offers a glimpse into a dystopian fascist post-plague world wrapped in unapologetically hilarity with a heaping side of camp. It doesn't offer any spiritual cleansing that our souls collectively need, but it does show us what a new normal could look like if we really go off the rails.

As things stand, right now, so much of our daily lives and culture are impacted by the coronavirus. All of our institutions have been impacted, from school, to work, to family, to the way we interact with strangers, and especially our economy. We have all felt the effects in one way or another, and honestly? Most the impacts are of our own undoing, for better or for worse. I am going to write three pieces analyzing Repo! the Genetic Opera. First I will create the foundations that bridge our contemporary life and the world of Repo! Second I will explain how the Repo! universe operates under the definitions of fascism. And third I will weave together parts one and two into our contemporary world (particularly in the context of the United States) to highlight the dark path we heading towards. My viewpoints are of mine, and my own alone. Let's dive into part one.

Part I Repo! the Genetic Opera takes place in the year 2056. Humanity was on the brink of collapse as a result of a medical crisis that caused massive organ failure.

I never gave the premise much thought, at least not until recently. We aren't given much detail beyond the fact that entrepreneur Rottissimo "Rotti" Largo solved this crisis through his company GeneCo. GeneCo provides organ transplants that can be repaid through a payment plan. Witnessing the coronavirus unfold in real time and seeing its wrath, particularly on severe cases, honestly makes me wonder if the writers had some sort of "super plague" in mind when creating this universe. For the purpose of this analysis, I will assume that humanity suffered at least one infectious disease crisis. And just to reiterate covid-19 particularly, we really *don't* know what it's going to do to us long-term. Let the parallels begin. 

The world in Repo! the Genetic Opera, operates as normally as the citizens possibly can, which appears to be quite limited. I have noted how dated some the technologies look.

For a world 30 years in the future, it lacks cell phones and easy access to internet. When we enter Shilo's world (aka her bedroom!) she watched Blind Mag sing on a busted up tiny ass TV and the program itself looks like an ad on Home Shopping Network.

The Graverobber is shown reading headlines on a newspaper. The news reporters shown in the ribbon cutting ceremony during the 1st Italian Post-Plague Renaissance have old school cameras with flashbulbs.

The most contemporary technology appears to be a Wish.com version of an Apple watch, and even that looks like a leftover prop from Spy Kids.

Obviously the people who made this movie intentionally inserted these anachronisms, but why? This is a science fiction movie after all. I speculate that they reverted back because the impact from humanity's crisis resulted in an overall professional "brain drain" from the sheer volume of professionals that dropped dead. In fact every scene depicting medical procedures looks dimly lit and lacking in sanitation. We will see this as we struggle to contain the coronavirus, at least in America. Healthcare workers have already died from this thing, and I am sure many prospective college students will have second thoughts about a career in healthcare. I mean hell, look at no other than GeneCo itself. That company employs workers called "Genterns" who are most definitely not in full PPE. I don't doubt their medical expertise, but they appear to be disposable (please see: that time Luigi killed one for NO REASON in "Mark it Up").

On that note, it really was quite incredible how China built the pop-up hospital in Wuhan in under 4 days, but it was also not the most safe or structurally sound building by far (it collapsed, people were hurt!). Maybe at this point, the people in Repo! don't have much of a choice. I am sure there were likely legit hospitals, but the fact that the Renaissance had gross surgery tents is a bit unsettling.

This is a world that is completely built upon the social more of valuing your health above all else. There had to be a turning point in the GeneCo business model where they really played on up-selling organs for the benefit of "genetic perfection". "I needed a kidney transplant desperately. GeneCo showed this single mom sympathy. This makeover came for a small added fee. Now I look smashing on live TV!" Imagine signing the documents for your power of attorney while actively going into renal failure, when your doctor chimes in with an up-sell for breast implants. When all is said an done, your body is now not only functioning again, but you're hot! Even in a post-plague dystopia we are still holding value to having a nice rack. What's not to love about GeneCo? Obviously we know right away that GeneCo has a dirty side. Rotti Largo personally lobbied to make organ repossessions legal, and he does not hesitate to recollect his property. The concept itself is, of course, wild. In America, our healthcare system is incredibly broken and expensive.  You would wonder how it could get worse without us backpedaling many steps on the industrialization timeline. And in a lot of ways, I could see a company like GeneCo thrive here. We already hate the poor, and we have political think tanks that salivate over the idea of cutting social programs that keep people alive. Our president has wanted to repeal the Affordable Care Act while many people are unemployed during a pandemic. In Repo! we hear about those who don't pay, but obviously there are plenty of people who do. Those who can will happily pay, either for vanity reasons or to stay alive.

And while society cites Rotti as being a "hero" for humanity, we see more and more evidence that the crisis is both not under control and life is cheap.

His son murders multiple people, in front of others, with seemingly no repercussions. In the scene where Shilo meets the Graverobber for the first time, adjacent to the graveyard and tombs owned by wealthy families who could afford grave markers, lies a poorly constructed wall hiding thousands of corpses piled on top of one another. We even get a glimpse of a truckload pouring more onto the pile. I would not be surprised if there is a disinformation campaign there keeping the public in the dark (although you'd think the smell would be unbearable at this point).

There are multiple indications that propaganda works in society (still), and no one is getting the full picture of how much of a raw deal the people in Repo! have. We see poster after poster about GeneCo, in the literal absence of other corporations. 

And a lot of them bear resemblance to 20th century Russian propaganda. It would be a real shame if the goals outlined The Foundations of Geopolitics: The Geopolitical Future of Russia were actually realized. Imagine going to visit your mother's grave and hearing commercials for hardcore analgesics play through the cemetery. Also, there's a police presence too. Apparently the police are called Genecops and have authority to execute any assumed graverobbers on site.

Imagine the hellscape it would be to live in a world where your loved ones may have died from a terrible pandemic, and you face a non-zero chance of an over zealous cop murdering you thereafter, and because their qualified immunity bypasses the judicial system entirely...oh wait. Anyways let's circle back to the Graverobber character.

Graverobber's role in Repo! appears to be minor on the surface. Rotti's daughter, Amber Sweet, appears to almost despise her relationship with him. And that relationship involves him supplying Amber with what he describes as the "21st Century cure". This cure you ask? A super effective painkiller with the clinical use to accompany GeneCo surgeries. This drug is called Zydrate, and it has a street version that he acquires and sells, with clients including Amber Sweet.

Graverobber makes his living sucking the glowy blue brain corpse goo and injecting them into people on the streets. Yum!

Not everyone who needs an organ transplant can pay for it all upfront. Luckily for them, GeneCo provides payment plan options! The caveat to this is if you fail to make those payments, legally GeneCo can come and repossess your newly acquired organs. If you find yourself past due, you will soon see the last face before your doom, the Repo Man. He will harvest GeneCo's property, and it won't matter where you are or what you are doing. There is no anesthetic, and you will likely die! This was all made legal through Rotti's lobbying efforts.

Society, as it's set up today, allows for property repossessions. This can be as straightforward as a repossession of your vehicle to as heartbreaking as a foreclosure on your home. At the end of the day, the impacts of that are difficult and life changing. Currently millions of people in America are out of work, and the threat of losing everything is at stake for many. We could lose our homes, our vehicles, and our sense of purpose. And while many government bodies have created temporary moratoriums, they have not provided any substantial financial relief to keep the proverbial repo man at bay. What went wrong in this dystopia to normalize the concept of death due to nonpayment? Fascism! Ah yes, the dreaded f-word. In my next essay, I will outline the 14 characteristics of fascism and how it relates to the universe in Repo! After I will relate that to our modern world so that we can try and stop this from becoming our reality.

[ubernoxa]

The Dare: A Guns an’ Roses Fanfic

Chapter 37: Great Party Mags

Pairing: Duff/OC

Story Summary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.

Masterlist

Taglist: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @dustnbones @queen-crue

The girls had swarmed him all night, and he felt like a damn king. They all wanted to fuck a rockstar, but sadly he only had time for one. Axl put on his boot and checked his hair in the bathroom mirror. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror, he could get used to this. The elaborate mansion and girls were one of the many perks he was looking forward to when Guns made it big.

The live band still played and he wanted to groan as they butchered another Motley Crue song. He was never a fan of Motley, but it burned his ears to hear a song that was born on Sunset Strip butchered. He was promised a rock band and they were mediocre at best. He smirked to himself at the thought of the band getting booed off stage. They would never survive the strip. They could play some cover songs, but they were missing the spark, that special thing that makes someone remember them. They were just a bunch of rock wannabes who live off their parent’s money. They were 100% forgettable.

“Heeey, you’re that singer right? I saw you sing last week!” A brunette stumbled over towards him, partially spilling her drink on the table next to him.

“Axl Rose the one and only,” Axl looked her up and down, a model, he told himself. She must be some sort of model.

Axl’s attention was pulled from the brunette model as a familiar face caught his attention. A face he had only seen once. A face he hoped he wouldn’t have to see again.

Axl lost control of his feet as he slowly walked over towards Matt, Del’s ex-fiancé, who was standing off in a hallway. An unsettling feeling filled Axl as he slowly walked into the hallway where Matt was.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Axl shouted, making sure to pull all attention towards him.

“It’s a party Axl. I thought a trash wannabe rocker like you would know that,” Matt laughed back.

“Axl,” Del shot out of the room at the sound of the singer’s voice. When she opened the door, she Alsace a situation that was already out of hand. Matt was pushed against the hallway wall, pinned by Axl, unable to move. With one of his hands tightly wrapped around Matt’s collar, Axl held him in the air. Axl’s other hand formed a fist, waiting for Matt to give him one last reason to best the living shit out of him.

Axl shot a quick look at Del, fear was laced in her tone as she stepped forward.

“Did they touch you?” Axl’s voice was sharp as he spoke. Del could tell he was drinking, and that wasn’t the most unsettling part. There was nothing more wild than a drunk Axl hungry for blood,

“No Ax..I’m fine. They just wanted to invite me to a small party for a childhood friend of mine. The party is to celebrate her engagement, nothing more,” Del talked in a soft voice in hopes to calm him down.

“Give me a reason Del. Give me a reason not to punch him in the fucking face,” Axl’s tone was soft, but laced with poison as he spoke. He could feel Matt’s breath, wild and out of control like a bunny that was about to be devoured by a wolf.

“Because he is not fucking worth it Ax. He is nothing, but a washed up piece is shit. Punching him won’t make anything better,” on the outside Del maintained a calm composure, but on the inside all hell had broken loose. She hated Matt. She hated the bruises he left on her arm. She hated the way he talked to her. Despite everything, she wanted to see Axl beat the living shit out of Matt. She wanted to see him pay the price, but that wasn’t right. That would only make things worse. Violence would always bring more violence. She looked back at Axl who was currently staring down Matt like a wolf about to devour his prey.

Del quickly turned towards Mark, remembering his threat about telling Duff that she was sleeping with Axl. It was a lie, a complete and utter lie. She didn’t want to take the chance that Duff would believe her over them, she didn’t want their lie to plant a seed of doubt into Duff’s head. She loved him, she truly did.

“Axl, they aren’t worth it,” this time Del’s voice was sharp as she spoke.

Axl let go of Matt who stumbled over towards Mark, pure terror filling his eyes.

“Don’t forget these,” Matt said, handing Del the pillow and blanket that she originally came for. That’s right, Del reminded herself. She still had a task she had to complete. She had to help Mags.

When Del walked next to him to grab the items, he whispered, “see you Sunday.” She didn’t respond as she took the items for Mags and headed down the hallway, wanting to get as far away from Mark and Matt as possible.

Del wanted to cry. She wanted to break down and cry, but as she heard Axl’s boots against the tiled floor, she knew she had to keep it together.

“Where is Duff?” Del looked over towards Axl who resembled a volcano about to erupt.

“Upstairs taking care of another problem,” Del’s tone was sharp, but it didn't go far. She knew that he could see the tears that lingered in her eyes as he walked next to her. She wanted to leave this party as soon as possible, and didn’t have time for silly tears.

“He shouldn’t have left you,” Axl seemed to calm down a little, but not enough to put Del at ease.

“You should stop in a bathroom before we meet up with Duff,” Axl pointed out, causing Del to stop dead in her tracks.

“Why?” The moment she spoke those words, Axl placed his hand on her forearm, and for the first time Del saw something in Axl’s eyes.

The chaos or passion that resided in them was replaced with concern. That’s when it clicked in Del’s head. Axl knew. Axl put the pieces together, and saw the big picture on what was going on.

“Because he will want you to tell him what happened if you present yourself like this,” the pair of them remained frozen in another hallway lined with mirrors. Del turned her head and a ghostly figure in front of her.

“And you don’t seem to want to talk about it,” Axl added.

She knew it was herself that was standing in the mirror. Her hair was still styled the same way and she was wearing the same clothes as earlier, but that’s not what Axl was hinting at. He saw the sadness that had developed in her own eyes. He recognized the fear that was laced across her features.

“Can you bring these to Mag’s she is up one more floor and in the bathroom of the third room on the right?” Axl simply shook his head no.

“Why?” Del shot back, nor understanding Axl’s reluctance.

“If you think I am going to let you walk around this party while Matt and Mark are here you are dead wrong,” Del nodded her head as she handed Axl the pillow and blankets and headed off towards the nearest bathroom. The sound of Axl’s boots on the tile floor filled the hallways.

Once inside, she slammed the door shut and locked it. When the first tear fell, the rest followed like a dam breaking and flooding a city.

Why? Why must they come back to her? Why couldn’t she escape her life?

“Everything will be fine,” Del said into the mirror. It was a lie that she was hoping that she, herself would believe.

There really wasn’t a reason for Duff to not want to go to the party. Granted he knew about her old life and how toxic it was, so maybe he did have a reason. Her mind spiraled again and again until she felt like it was going to explode.

Only a quiet knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Go away Axl,” Del shouted through the door still trying to deal with the tornado that was tearing through her head.

“Try again,” Del shot to her feet and unlocked the door without hesitation at the sound of his voice. She pulled Duff in close, tears still streaming down her face.

As she pulled away, she felt Duff begin to kiss the tears that remained on her cheeks. He then pulled her in close again, sending a thankful knod in the singer’s direction.

Axl stood watching, waiting for this moment to be over. He hated it so much when Duff cradled Del in his arms. He hated how she nuzzled her head deeper into his chest as he whispered sweet nothing into her ear. But most of all, he hated himself for fucking some chick, instead of watching over Del. To him, this was all his fault. He was the reason they ended up going to the party in the first place. Granted, Del brought it up, but he could have easily said no. Mags being here was a good enough reason to say no, and not a soul would have questioned it.

“God this party sucks,” Del mumbled, trying to get rid of the tension that had grown in the hallway and distract Duff from his current state.

“The band playing sucked too,” Duff added.

“Well that’s not a very nice to say,” Del replied in a teasing manner before wrapping her arms around Duff’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss as she stood on her toes in an attempt to match his height.

Del’s fingers mindlessly played with Duff’s hair as she felt his warm lips on her own. He tasted like peppermint vodka, quite an odd combo but still tasted like Duff.

Axl immediately left the scene since he had little desire to watch the pair make out. He took a deep breath before climbing the stairs to go check on Mags. With every step he questioned whether or not he was doing the right thing.

When he ran upstairs to get Duff after Del had locked herself in the bathroom for at least 10 minutes, he simply dropped the blankets off in front of the bathroom door and knocked before heading off with Duff to make sure that Del was right.

He determined that there were three reactions she could have when he knocked on the bathroom door for the second time to check on her. The first, the most likely, is that she would put on her tough face and cuss him out. The second is that she wouldn’t open the door for him, completely ignoring his presence. The third, without the doubt the least logical, is that she would let him check on her to make sure she was okay.

Axl knocked on the door and was immediately met with a messy haired Mags who had clearly enjoyed the pillow and blanket he brought her. After a couple of seconds of silence, Axl spoke. “How are you?”

“Ohh, Axl I’m fucking fantastic! I could honestly go run a marathon right now,” Axl smiled at her sarcasm as she spoke. At Least she was doing better. She was back to her old self of being a bitch to him, it was idly comforting.

“Good,” Axl replied, not wanting to add any sassy remarks and potentially angering her.

“Good?” She cocked an eyebrow at the red headed singer, confused on why he wasn’t being a complete dick.

“Yeah because that dick ass reporter Drew is downstairs and he doesn’t deserve you or your kid,” Axl spoke motioning toward her belly.

“Yeah..” Mags mumbled.

“Unless it isn’t his kid…” Axl said no louder than a whisper. He had to ask, he couldn’t help himself. He walked in on Mags and Duff fucking on their nasty ass couch. Granted it didn’t truly matter they were fucking at the time because neither of them had met Del yet, but Duff deserved to know if it was his kid.

“It’s Drew’s kid,” Mags shot back. She shook her head, she had done the math hundreds of times. There could be no way that it could be Duff’s kid, the timeline just didn’t add up.

Axl nodded his head, not truly believing her.

“Speaking of the giraffe, he is downstairs with Del. Apparently Mark and Matt, from her old life, had some words with Del,” Once Axl started talking Mags let him inside the bathroom. She needed to know what caused Del to cry in the bathroom, and she knew she wouldn’t be getting the story from Del. If she had the story, then she would be able to help Del later.

A knock on the bathroom door ended their conversation prematurely, but Axl was able to get through most of the story. Axl was surprised to see Izzy on the other side of it clearly ready to leave.

“You good?” Axl turned towards Mags as he spoke.

“Yeah, I’ll live another day,” Mags replied. For a quick second, a dangerous thought entered Mags’ brain. Maybe Axl wasn’t a complete dick.

“Is my brother coming with us?” Mags asked as she walked into the bedroom that adjoined the bathroom where she spent most of the party.

“Nah, him and his girl are staying. We didn’t tell him about how your night went because we didn’t want him to go all protective brother on you. If you want we can grab him real fast…” Mags quickly interrupted Duff before he could continue, “Nope, my brother doesn’t need to know what happened tonight.

Del sent Mags a concerned look which she quickly shrugged off as she walked over to give her a quick hug.

“I’m sorry,” Mags whispered in Del’s ear only loud enough for her to hear.

As they headed down the stairs, and outside the mansion Izzy took a quick look behind him to double check the space that had grown between their two groups. The first group which consited of only him and Axl was able to easily navigate through the party without any problem. Unlike the second group which consisted of Mags, Del, Duff and Slash. I say smirked as he saw Duff carrying a very drunk Slash on his back who was clearly the reason why they were so far behin. He chuckled to himself, a drunk slash can be one of the most distracted people he had ever met.

Upon confirmation that the second group wouldn’t hear what he was about to say he turned towards Axl.

“Are you going to tell me why your pants weren’t compellty buttoned when you opened the bathroom door?” Axl almost stopped in his tracks at Izzy’s question; however, he kept walking in fear of Izzy further misinterpreting his actions.

“WHOAH WHOAH WHOAH, I was just talking with her to make sure she was okay. Apparently Drew was there,” Axl watched as a small smirk formed on Izzy’s face.

“What?” Axl hissed, worried that Izzy wasn’t believing his story.

“I punched Drew in the face. It was really satisfying, you should try it sometime,” Axl couldn’t help but join Izzy in laughing.

“It’s on my bucket list. He has one of those very punchable faces. Anyway, how was tonight for your little business?” Axl asked, earning a sly smile from Izzy.

“Good,” was Izzy’s only response before hopping in the truck. Him being the only sober one, meant he was stuck driving back to the hell house.

It only took a couple of minutes before the second group piled into the car and they headed off towards home.

“Great party Mags, 10/10!” Slash shouted over the music.

Del and Mags immediately locked eyes and broke out into a contagious laughter that filled the truck.

[lovelylunarwriting]

Yangyang Prince!AU

Yangyang’s known around the kingdom as less of a prince and more of “the king and queen’s child”

He’s just not the princely type??? He 10/10 looks like a prince and -33/10 acts like one

While some royalty just have that "aura” about them,,,, Yangyang does not

But that’s not a bad thing! He’s incredibly approachable as a person

Not a soul would dare to address him as anything but “Prince”, though, for fear of him overhearing and being like “excuse me what the fuck did you call me”

While the country itself adores the prince and his natural personality, the king and queen take issue with his “lack of royal precedent” and hold him to a ridiculously high standard.

He doesn’t seem to let this dampen his spirit, though. Whenever local newspapers ask him about it, he always says “I’m firstborn and in line to the throne. There’s not much they can do about it regardless if I keep filling the courtyard fountains with soap so that they bubble. Who doesn’t like bubbles?”

Deep down though it takes more of a toll on him. In his eyes, it’s like his parents are saying he isn’t good enough to be king one day.

The reality is that they’re just worried that being in charge of the nation will stress him out like it has them, and they want to prepare him the best they can.

To prepare him for his eventual role, they send Yangyang into the nearby villages to meet with traders from other nations who want to open up shop in the many marketplaces.

Yangyang’s nation is known for their vast and varying markets because they’ll let just about anyone open a business as long as a member of the royal family approves it.

They go about doing this in two ways:

One, they can request an audience with the king and queen and they’ll write up a contract. The king is pretty much there for show, the queen is really the one who’s built this trade empire.

Or, two, if the person is in a rush they can schedule to meet with Prince Yangyang in town and plead their case to him. If he thinks it’s an extenuating circumstance, they essentially get a “Prince Fast-Pass” and receive an immediate audience with the king and queen. 

For example, he had one woman who was a refugee from a war-torn nation across the continent and she came to their country to open up a shop to provide for her and her four kids. Yangyang was like “that sucks, I’m sorry. Do you wanna talk to my mom about it?” and personally escorted her to the palace.

You have been in this market for a  h o t minute though. You got your audience with the king and queen when you were like,,,, twelve?? And you’ve been selling your family’s farms produce ever since.

One of your parents would’ve gone to the audience but there was a Very Serious Ladybug Problem going on with the tomatoes so they sent you instead (the queen was surprised but you presented a fair argument for the business,,,, she had no reason to say no)

So you set up your market every week, Monday through Friday. The weekends are for helping around at home (and sleeping off the work week, of course)

This season’s harvest hasn’t been nearly as plentiful as the previous. It’s not that there’s a shortage necessarily, just that the last season’s harvest was abnormally abundant. 

Which of course means you’ll have to sell pretty much all of it to get a similar profit to last year while keeping the same standard prices (raising the prices wouldn’t be fair to your loyal customers)

“Guess there goes my Saturdays, then…”, you mumble to yourself, deciding to open up the extra day in order to sell every single tomato, carrot, and head of lettuce even if it kills you.

The first Saturday of the season comes and goes with no trouble, and so does the next.

But the third week. That’s when you notice him.

The pickpocket in the bright yellow shoes.

He weaves his way through the crowd with elegance and ease, reaching out here and there, plucking items from stalls, pockets, and displays,  slowly putting them in his pockets.

You find yourself entranced, staring at him slip through stall after stall.

That is until he steps up to yours.

He glances up, making eye contact with you, and flinches.

Apparently your glare was most apparent than you’d intended.

You don’t say anything though and neither does he. He just smirks at you and makes his way to the next stall.

Your eyes follow him and you see him swipe a pair of earrings off the man’s table to your left.

You might’ve said something but:

1.) That particular jeweler is a creep to the women in town so he deserves to be robbed in your opinion, and 

2.) If you snitch on some thief, that only makes you a target to whoever the thief is associated with. You don’t know if he’s got some thuggish friends and you’re not looking for a fight.

That is unless he decides to try and steal from you. Then he better be as good as fighting as he is pickpocketing.

After this initial encounter, you honestly forget about him.

That is until a few months later, when you spot a flash of bright yellow in the massive crowd on another Saturday morning rush.

You fumble to make change for the person buying three dozen heads of lettuce, trying to find his distinctly soft face in the sea of people.

At first you think you’ve lost him, until the lady buying out all your lettuce moves one of her bags and you see him snatch an apple from the barrel in front of your table.

Blinding hot rage sparks its way down your neck and shoulders, and without even thinking you shove the change into the woman’s hands and slide over the table.

The crook looks behind him just in time for you to grab him by the collar and drag him into the nearest alley.

The shock in his eyes is clear and although he tries to fight back, he can’t break your hold.

You shove him up against the brick wall of the alley and ask him one very important question.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

He kind of just makes a weird gurgling sound though because your knuckles are pressing into his trachea.

You loosen your grip a little and look at him expectantly.

“I’m the Prince-”, he starts, but you cut him off because listen you might not be rich but you’re not stupid.

“Bullshit. And you can keep that apple, but you better hope I never catch you stealing from me again”, you say, throwing him by the front of his shirt even further into the alley and storming back to your booth.

Once you gather your bearings, you think about the encounter.

You can’t pinpoint what it is that pisses you off so much about this guy in particular. There’s always been thieves in the market, it’s practically part of the system at this point.

But there’s always been one thing about the thieves that made you understand in a way, why they steal.

They almost always steal food and it’s because they need it. For themselves and probably their families. And you can’t find it in yourself to fault them for that.

But this bright-shoed bandit? He looks like he’s never missed a meal in his life. He’s got full cheeks, tan skin, toned muscles, and is missing that look of sheer desperation that’s in the eyes of all the thieves you’ve encountered thus far.

The only thing in this boy’s eyes is arrogance. And something else you can’t quite identify yet.

Sunday passes and you try to relax, but remembering that encounter just irks you.

Mom: “Y/N,,,, what are you doing”

You: “I’M GONNA GO PLOW THE FIELDS”

Mom: “Why would you do that by hand?? We have an ox for that??”

You: “Because I’m pissED oFF okaY”

It’s not until Monday that you hear the townspeople gossip like crazy about something that happened at the Sunday Market.

Even the vendors are talking about it instead of the usual small talk with customers.

“Did you hear? The prince rode into the marketplace on horseback yesterday”

“Hear? I was there! He made such a big scene!”

“Apparently he was looking for someone but he didn’t even know their name”

“Typical Prince Yangyang- he’s always up to something crazy. He’s such a lovely sight though~”

This goes on for hours and towards the end of the day you swear if you hear one more thing about “PriNcE YaNgyaNg anD hiS goRgEous faCe” or “PrinCe YanGyaNg aNd hiS sTeaMy mUScleS”, you might actually just close up shop and leave early.

At first it was interesting, but everyone’s repeating the same thing for h o u r s

Except for the man you’re currently selling tomatoes to.

“Yeah it wasn’t hard tah miss him with those bright ass shoes ah his”

Your whole body jolts and you drop the change the man just set in your hand.

Apologizing, you scramble to pick it all up and drop the coins on the table.

“What do you mean ‘bright ass shoes’, sir?”, you ask, your demeanor becoming physically tense.

“You know the kid loves collecting those new kinds ah shoes, right? ‘Sneakers’ or whaddeva ya call em? They’re all the rage in the next kingdom ovah, he musta gotten em imported from there-”, the man drones on and on, whilst you continue to panic.

“Sir please, what color were they?”

“Oh they were yellow like you wouldn’t believe! Brighter than the sun itself, and- hey! Where are you going?”

You hand the man his bag of tomatoes, grab what little produce is left and close down shop. If the prince comes back again today he could have you thrown in jail for treason for the way you spoke to him.

Everything's in the horse-drawn cart and you’re pretty much ready to go until you remember you left the change on the table.

Cursing to yourself, you abandon the cart for a brief moment and rush back to grab the money, but right as you reach for it, someone grabs your wrist.

Without thinking, you twist their arm around and pin them face first into the table.

Some of the coins fall off from the sudden impact and as your eyes follow them down…. you notice the man’s yellow shoes.

You quickly release him,,,, this thief,,,, the prince

As he slowly turns around, you contemplate whether you should request execution by hanging or guillotine….

But when he sees that it’s you, he just starts laughing.

Not like a maniacal “aha I’ve got you noW peasaNT” kind of laugh like you’d expect though. A genuine laugh from this boy.

From this p r i n c e

All instincts are telling you to bolt and just move to a different marketplace but,,,, you wanna know what this guy’s deal is.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you talk to him.

“Your Royal Highness”, you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Ah, so you believe me now? What’s changed?”, he asks and his voice sounds like honey. For some reason you’d expected him to be harsher.

“Your prance around town yesterday has been all anyone’s talking about today, Prince of Thieves”, you explain with disinterest dripping from your mouth.

“Prince of Thieves? I am prince of this nation, I’ll have you know”, he says and there’s that look in his eyes again that you can’t quite pin down.

“Then act like it”, you say with a certain degree of malice, and storm off to your horse and cart, leaving the money behind. It’s not worth it to grab it.

His eyes widen and he just stands there for a moment before chasing after you.

“Just- wait a minute!”, he shouts, running up behind you and putting a hand on your shoulder.

You grab his wrist, pulling him forward onto your back, and then flip him over onto the ground.

Once he’s down, you pin him down with your hands on his wrists and a knee on either side of his hips.

“I don’t care that you’re the prince. Your title means nothing to me. I care that you’re a thief. You steal from people who actually need money to live, and why? For the thrill of it? Grow up. If you want people to call you Prince then you better start acting like one”, you lay into him, letting all your frustration with him out at once.

You expect him to get angry with you. Maybe even yell. But he just looks,,,, sad. A little defeated, if anything.

“That’s not why I came here”

“You’re right, let me get off you so you can go pickpocket my customers”, you say, standing up and brushing the dirt off your pant legs.

“No, I came here looking for you. That’s why I came here yesterday, too”, he says, getting up and stepping between you and your horse. “Please, I need your help”

You take a deep breath in and out.

“My help with what exactly?”

“You fight like no one I’ve ever seen before. I need you to teach me”, he explains.

“Isn’t that what you have the knights for?”, you ask.

“They go easy on me. They’re worried if they hurt me while practicing, they’ll be fired by my mom”

“I don’t see why they’re concerned about hitting you in the face. It’s practically all I can think about right now”, you say nonchalantly.

“Wow okay- I could’ve gone without knowing that. But what do you say? Will you teach me? You’ve already showed me like three moves, just,,,, not on purpose I guess”

And for some reason,,,,, maybe because you’re lowkey worried he’ll actually have you hanged,,,,, you say yes.

You tell him it’ll have to be on Sundays and that he’ll have to come down to the family farm because “there’s no way in hell I’ll fight you that close to the queen’s wrath”

When you meet with him that Sunday though, he’s actually,,, quite charming??? And very polite to your parents, who were extremely surprised to see the prince on their front step (you might’ve forgotten to tell them about it)

This begins a routine of Prince Yangyang dragging you out of bed at dawn to spar with him in the barn out back behind your house.

The first few times he’d leave in the afternoon saying he “didn’t want to take up too much of your time”

But every time he leaves,,,, you find yourself missing his company.

Listen, he was an ass at first and he’s still an ass but it’s growing on you.

So one day, you ask him if he’d want to stay for dinner. And to your own shock, he immediately agrees.

He banters back and forth with you, makes jokes with your dad, and flatters your mom.

He’s got all of you around his finger and he’s not even trying to. He’s just being himself.

Now every Sunday he still wakes you up at dawn, much to your dismay, but he stays the whole day instead.

You spend the day together sparring, trying to knock each other into the pond, having lighthearted conversations, and getting the produce ready to go to market the next day.

To you, he stopped feeling like a prince a while ago honestly he never felt like a prince to start with but still

He’s your friend Yangyang that you throw into hay bales while teaching him self defense

One of those nights, the two of you are laying on the roof of the barn looking at the stars, when he says that he’d better head back to the castle.

“Can I ask you a question first?”, you ask, sitting up to face him.

“You technically just did”

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean”

“Hit me with it”, he says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back towards the speckled sky.

“Why do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Why do you steal from the marketplace?”, you finally ask, after silently wondering for months at this point.

“I don’t anymore”, he answers somewhat defensively, opening his eyes to look at you.

“Okay, then why did you?”

“...”

“...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want….”, you say somewhat resigned.

Over the past month or so, things between the two of you has felt,,,, different.

You’ve been closer than ever, and talk to each other like you’ve known each other for years.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t falling for him.

But it feels like he’s got a barrier built up between him and the world.

Everything fiber of your being aches to shatter it. For him to feel like he can trust you, even if he can’t trust anyone else.To be special to him the way he’s special to you.

“I needed to do something to break out”, he says after some silence.

“Break out of what?”, you ask, trying to be gentle.

“Out of the box my parents are desperately trying to cram me into. I know they want what’s best for me and the country but,,,, it’s just so much pressure. I needed to do something else- anything else, even if it was stupid”

You scoot over to him and he sits up. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself closer to him.

At first he just sits there, stunned, but then tightly returns the embrace and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stay like that for who knows how long, with him getting everything off his chest and you quietly listening and running your fingers through his hair.

From that night onward, the two of you are practically inseparable. 

Neither of you have said that you’re an item,,, and for a while you were like “am I making this shit up or does he like me”.

But one day, he’s sitting behind your booth in the marketplace (like he usually is. You’d think as a prince he’d have more to do,,,), eating all of your apples, when he taps you on the shoulder.

“I’m in the middle of a sale”, you snap, and turn back around to the customer.

When you finish, you turn around and he hands you an apple that is just,,, seeping with juice.

“Yangyang,,, w h y”

“Flip it over!”

So you do, and he’s carved “for my beautiful s/o~” into the side of the apple.

You can’t help but smile at his literally sweet gesture.

But you also can’t help but make direct eye contact with him and bite straight into the carved part of the apple.

The look of horror on his face made your day.

He’s got a habit of making your day everyday, though.

[moondustis]

what you like / pleaser (m)

pairing: mark lee + reader genre: smut word count: 2,9k warnings: demon summoning, succubus!reader, unprotected sex. this may lack in accuracy on how the whole demon summoning thing works... i apologize summary: “Mark Lee is not an impulsive person, not at all. He likes to think things through so he can do them well. He’s also not a poor choice maker, not that he thinks so at least. That’s why he can’t understand why he’s in his room on a friday night conjuring a demon.”

Mark Lee is not an impulsive person, not at all. He likes to think things through so he can do them well. He’s also not a poor choice maker, not that he thinks so at least. That’s why he can’t understand why he’s in his room on a friday night summoning a demon.

Well, maybe he can. For three weeks now he has been having what you could call weird dreams. To be  more specific, wet dreams. It started on a regular tuesday night after a full day of classes, he fell asleep easily, being so tired and what started as a nice, pleasant dream quickly became something more. He can’t even remember how exactly the dream went but it was so intense that he woke up with a killing boner.

At first he thought it was just because it had been a while since he last had sex, one year to be exact. Hookups weren’t really his thing and he was too busy to go around and look for an actual relationship. But the dreams kept happening and by the half of the third week he was exhausted and tired of coming in his sleep.

So here he was after an extensive google search, white chalk on his floor and candles lit, his hand trembling quite a lot as he does exactly what satanic wikipedia has said he had to in order to summon a succubus.

It’s wrong, so wrong, because for one Mark has never believed these things, and he is, or used to be, a nice catholic boy that sang on the church choir. And even if he’s a bit skeptical about the whole thing, making a sigil on your room's floor with white chalk seems like a big deal.

He says the spells, or whatever they’re called, outloud and feels a little silly because nothing happens for a minute, then two.

He’s about to give up when the circle lits up and he falls back on his bed with a loud yelp because holy shit, his room is on fire. Fire that does not look like actual fire and there’s a girl standing in the middle of it. Holy shit, holy fucking shit.

He’s gonna have a whiplash or die, or both because there’s a demon in his room. A demon that he summoned.

“You look quite scared for someone that apparently wanted this to happen.” You say, voice so sweet that it could soothe him if his heart wasn't about to rip off his chest.

“Oh my fucking god.” Is the clever words that come out of his mouth and it makes you laugh. It’s surreal. You look nothing like he expected a demon to look like, no horns, no tail and no black eyes.

“Not even close, baby.” You cross your arms, giving him a pointed look as he takes deep breaths. “Are you sure you wanted this to happen?“

“I’m-Yes.” He manages to say and you just keep staring at him like you’re extremely bored. “I mean you-you kept appearing in my dreams.”

You giggle at his words, looking smug at the mention of the dreams. “So you summoned me because you wanted your dreams to come true?”

Is that what he wanted? He can’t remember quite properly with the demon now standing in front of him. He knows he wanted the dreams to stop but with the enticing girl standing in front of him he’s not sure if that’s all he wants.

“So?” You say after he doesn’t give you a reply, raising one eyebrow. “I can’t do anything if you keep me stuck here. Come break the sigil.”

He moves cautiously from the bed, hands still shaking slightly and watching your every move. The look on your face tells him that you find the whole thing amusing and it makes him feel small. He shouldn’t trust you, breaking the sigil would probably give you full power over him or something like that, the reading he did on the subject hadn’t been very fulfilling.

Still he steps on one of the circles in the sigil, spreading white chalk around and breaking it. The moment he does you step forward in his direction, a mischievous smile on your red tinted lips. The sudden movement startles him, making his arms go up in protection. “W-woah, woah, wait,” he says, voice breaking slightly. “ shouldn’t we like, set some rules? I don’t want to, I don’t know, give you my soul by accident.”

His words make you giggle again, ignoring his protests by continuing to move close to him until you’re almost pressing your chest to him. “Trust me, if you were to give me your soul it wouldn’t be by accident.”

He blinks slowly. “Uh… Okay, I guess?.” That's one less thing to worry about. “Still, don’t we need like rules?” I don’t do stuff like this daily.”

You move your hand to his cheek, and he gets the feeling you’re trying to entice him in someway. “It’s not that complicated.” You almost whisper, hand traveling all the way down to his neck making a shiver run through his body. “I’m here to make you feel good, like I did in the dreams… And in exchange you give me something.”

His energy, his mind supplies. He had done minimal research on succubus, the minimum he had go know before doing this. The demon wiki had told him that succubus sucked the energy out of humans, that’s why he always woke up so tired from the dreams. He wondered for a second if it happening in real life would be worse.

Your hand starts massaging his nape and he’s one second away from becoming putty in your hand. He’s sensitive to touch, always had been, and even if he knows his way around girls they still make him slightly nervous. A demon girl was just to far out of his capacity and he felt almost powerless in front of you. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.” Is the words you say before you’re closing the distance between the two of you.

There’s no sparks or special taste but still it’s like a fire ignites inside of him, his lips parting immediately to yours in an embarrassing moan. You know exactly what you’re doing, clearly, kissing him slowly and biting at his bottom lip in a way that would make his eyes flutter if they were open. He doesn’t even realize you’re moving until the back of his legs hit the mattress and he’s falling on it, you following my straddling his hips and settling down on his lap.

He enjoys the weight on top of him, gets the sudden urge to run his hands on your now exposed thighs, that look oh, so soft. He’s distracted by your lips pressing kisses to his jaw, before moving to the spot on his neck that makes him squirm slightly. “You behave so well, Mark.” You mutter between kisses, making him blush a nice shade of pink.

“I-uhm, thank you?” He replies with small and timid voice, cheeks still tinted as you coo at him. You probably see him like a small puppy, a weak human for you to play with. He realizes he’s not that bothered by it when you press closer to him, your lips closing in a bite against his neck.

He would never describe his sex life as anything but vanilla, and he enjoyed it like that, was a big fan of missionary and foreplay that involved his fingers inside a girl. He had never tried the whole power dynamics everyone seemed to be on about, was satisfied with the usual. But with you on top of him, saying things that made his head spin, he wanted nothing more than please you and make you happy. Give you whatever you wished for.

His hands move on their own accord, gripping your thighs like he wanted to earlier and he almost moans at how soft and plush they feel against his hands. Your lips chase his again and he could swear the whine you let out when they finally met is angelic.

The kiss is interrupted by his cell phone going off on his bedside table, an annoying cheerful song indicating that Jaemin was currently calling him. He wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for the annoyed sound you make as you detach your lips from his, leaving him chasing for it with his eyes closed. “Please do something about that.” You plead, making him open his eyes to be met with the breathtaking view that is your now fully black eyes staring down at him, your lips even more red that they were before. A sight that would be terrifying if he wasn’t so attracted to you.

He only stops starring when you mutter his name again and he finally snaps out of it, muttering a quiet ‘fuck’ while he moves as best as he can to get the phone without  making you leave his lap.

The moment he accepts the call he’s greeted with a high pitched scream that is so loud that you can hear it to. “What’s up, man?” Jaemin’s slurred voice says as a loud song plays on the background.  “Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m kinda busy right now, bro.” Is what he replies, eyes almost fluttering with the way you’re gently massaging his scalp, sitting so pretty and patient on his lap that he gets the urge to just hang up on Jaemin and continue what you were doing.

“We’re going to Johnny’s party,” it’s Jeno’s voice that says that, as Jaemin mutters something on the back. Mark lets out another string of swear words, did they really call now out of all other times to talk about some party. “You should come.”

You bat your eyes, like you’re trying to convince him that he shouldn’t go to the party and stay here instead. It’s not like he even considered the first option, not with the way you move to press a weirdly kiss to his cheek before you’re kissing his neck again. Not with the way you start rolling your hips just slightly over his. “T-Thanks, dude, but I’ll pass.” He says making you smirk against his skin and he immediately hangs up before even hearing Jeno whining about how he’s gonna miss the best party.

“Don’t you wanna go to the party with your friends, Mark?” You say in a mischievous voice while pouting at him.

“Not really.” His reply makes you giggle again and he takes that opportunity to press another kiss to your lips.

“I’m flattered.” You say in between kisses, hands moving to the hem of this t-shirt and he gets the clue, taking it off and discarding it somewhere in the room. Your fingers immediately move to his chest, tracing patterns on it that makes him shiver and he chases once again your lips, feels like he could kiss you forever.

This time he parts his lips slightly and you let your tongue move against him as he continues to grip your thighs while you circle your hips timidly over his. It’s overwhelming almost how everything that was usually good feels amazing, probably because you are a succubus, but still he feels like his senses are enhanced and he could come from just this.

He has to make you feel good, his mind provides between his other foggy thoughts, and in a moment of boldness he moves his hand slowly to the hem of your dress. When you don’t say anything about it, just continue on kissing him, he dips it inside until his palm is pressing against your very bare center. He lets out a whimper in the back of his throat.

“What are you doing, baby?” You ask and he watches the string of saliva that still connects your lips when you end the kiss. Then he’s looking at your black eyes again, like a child caught doing something they shouldn’t. “I’m the one that’s supposed to make you feel good, remember?”

As if to point out your words you roll your hips with a little more force this time and his eyes roll back. He’s so hard so right, ready to let it go with only a word from you, but still, he feels like he doesn’t feel you around his fingers. “I-fuck, want to make you come.” He moves his fingers so they’re parting your folds and he can press them against your clit. “Please?”

Your lips part a little and the begging seems to get to you because you’re nodding your head and parting your legs slightly to give him more space. He begins to work gentle circles over your clit with the pads of his fingertips, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as you lets out a breathy moan.

He wishes he could listen to your sounds every day, wants to make you feel so good that you are screaming his name. “You’re so good, Mark.” You whisper with your lips against his neck and his finger traces down to press against your entrance. “Such a good boy.”

Your words make a blush set on his entire face and a fire ignite on the pit of his stomach at the same time. “Shit, you’re so wet.” He mumbles adding a finger inside of you, that’s easily followed by another one. He moves them upwards, trying to hit your most sensitive spot while his thumb flicks across your clit.

You grip his face with your hand, moving to desperately kiss him. It’s messy and rushed, your lips parting in an erotic way to let out moans that sound like honey on his ears. His fingers increase the pressure as he picks up the speed and you grip his cheekbone with so much force that it could bruise.

When you come it’s with a moan against his lips and your body shaking on top of his. He can’t take his eyes of the view, pupils probably so dilated that his eyes are black, but not as black as yours.

“Mark, I need you to fuck me right now.” You say, desperation in your voice, after you come down from your high. Your hands move to undo his pants in such a quick motion that for a second he’s left blinking dumbly at you . “Come on, pretty boy. If I don’t have you inside of me at this exact moment I’ll set fire to your whole room.”

He starts moving at your words, removing the rest of his clothes at the same time he tries to watch you getting up to remove yours. It’s a sight, one that he’ll never be able to get out of his head. He has been with girls before, all of them giving him quite the view but this right now is different. There’s something to you that makes his mouth almost water and he wants desperately to touch.

“Gonna fuck me good, huh?” You whisper as you climb onto his lap again, sliding your palm against his dick with slow strokes.

He nods, probably a little too excited as a moan leaves his lips. “I need- shit, need to get a condom.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “I’m a demon, Mark. We don’t need to use one.” You whispers and he feels his head spin a little. “Okay?”

He nods again and you press him against your entrance, your wetness spreading over him. It’s ironic almost, how he feels like he’s having an religious experience as you sink down on him, so warm and so wet that he’s throbbing as you get all of him inside. He curses loudly, hands gripping tightly at your hips. It takes a lot of his willpower not to come right there.

“You feel so good, baby.” You breath, hands moving to his neck as you move in a steady rhythm on his lap. “Filling me up so well.”

He’s sure he’s far from the best you ever had but your praises are so enticing that he lets himself fall for them, moaning loudly as you clench around him. “‘M not gonna last long.” He mumbles, moving to press kisses along your chest as he circles a nipple with his thumb. “Feels so good.”

Your hands move to his hair, brushing the few strands that are pressed to his sweaty forehead. “It’s okay, love.” Your lips press at his forehead and you speed up just a bit. “Wanna feel you coming inside of me. Are you gonna do that, huh? Fill me up with your cum?”

It’s too much. Too much that he can’t help but circle your hips with one arm as he starts to pound inside of you, making you bounce on top of him as he grunts and spills curse words, mouth pressed to your chest. He comes when your walls squeeze him just too good for him to handle, with a quiet chant of your name and arms bringing you as close as possible.

It takes a while for him to come down from it, his whole body shaking slightly when you lift yourself from his lap. You put on your dress as you watch him struggle to get his boxers on. “You gonna stay here?” He asks voice sleepy as he moves to lay down on his bed, patting the empty spot besides him in the hopes that you will. “‘M so tired.”

The last thing he remembers before falling asleep is a giggle coming from your mouth as you press a kiss to his forehead. When he wakes up, you’re gone and he would think that it was all a dream if it wasn’t for the white chalk on his floor.

[aion-rsa]

Best Horror Movies on Netflix: Scariest Films to Stream

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Editor’s Note: This post is updated monthly. Bookmark this page to see what the best horror movies on Netflix are at your convenience.

Is it Halloween when you’re reading this? If not we’re still close enough with fall here and the month of October almost upon us! It’s the time of year where we like our drinks spiced with pumpkin or apple, our flannel light, and the movies we consume scary. And lucky for you there are more than a handful of worthwhile scary movies on Netflix.

There is nothing quite as fun as embracing the spooky, the creepy, the scary, and things that go bump in the night. Thankfully we have horror movies to help us down these paths. If you ever find yourself in need of a thrill or a chill, check out some of the best horror movies on Netflix, we’ve gathered here.

Enjoy your tricks and treats.

Looking for the best horror movies on Netflix UK? Click here!

As Above, So Below

We know what you might be thinking: a found footage horror movie? Yes, this was one of the later adherents to a genre craze that got run into the ground during the 2000s and early 2010s. However, As Above, So Below is the rare thing: effectively creepy. With a crackerjack premise about the real Catacombs of Paris being a secret gateway to Hell, the film casts an energetic Perdita Weeks as a modern day Indiana Jones in a Go-Pro helmet. She and her colleagues make the unwise choice to go off the tourist-guided path in the catacombs, which is home to the remains of more than 6 million people who died between the early middle ages and 18th century.

But once deep below the City of Lights, the film’s dwindling protagonists find themselves crawling beneath a wall with the words “Abandon all Hope Ye Who Enter.” And things just get bleak from there. This is a ghoulish good-time for those who are willing to indulge in the gimmick storytelling.

Apostle

Apostle comes from acclaimed The Raid director Gareth Evans and is his take on the horror genre. Spoiler alert: it’s a good one.

Dan Stevens stars as Thomas Richardson, a British man in the early 1900s who must rescue his sister, Jennifer, from the clutches of a murderous cult. Thomas successfully infiltrates the cult led by the charismatic Malcom Howe (Michael Sheen) and begins to ingratiate himself with the strange folks obsessed with bloodletting. Thomas soon comes to find that the object of the cult’s religious fervor may be more real than he’d prefer.

The Blackcoat’s Daughter

Some kids dream about being left overnight or even a week at certain locations to play, like say a mall or a Chuck E. Cheese. One place that no one wants to be left alone in, however, is a Catholic boarding school.

That’s the situation that Rose (Lucy Boynton) and Kat (Kiernan Shipka) find themselves in in the atmospheric and creepy The Blackcoat’s Daughter. When Rose and Kat’s parents are unable to pick them up for winter break, the two are forced to spend the week at their dingy Catholic boarding school. If that weren’t bad enough, Rose fears that she may be pregnant…oh, and the nuns might all be Satanists.

The Blackcoat’s Daughter is an excellent debut directorial outing from Oz Perkins and another step on the right horror path for scream queens Shipka and Emma Roberts.

The Evil Dead

1981’s The Evil Dead is nothing less than one of the biggest success stories in horror movie history.

Written and directed on a shoestring budget by Sam Raimi, The Evil Dead uses traditional horror tropes to its great advantage, creating a scary, funny, and almost inconceivably bloody story about five college students who encounter some trouble in a cabin in the middle of the woods. That trouble includes the unwitting release of a legion of demons upon the world.

The Evil Dead rightfully made stars of its creator and lead Bruce Campbell. It was also the jumping off point for a successful franchise that includes two sequels, a remake, a TV show, and more.

Gerald’s Game

We are living in a renaissance for Stephen King adaptations. But while there have been many killer clowns and hat-wearing fiends getting major attention at the multiplexes, the best King movie in perhaps decades is Mike Flanagan’s underrated Gerald’s Game. Cleverly adapted from what has been described as one of King’s worst stories, Gerald’s Game improves on its source material when it imagines a middle-aged woman (Carla Gugino) placed in a terrifying survival situation after her husband (Bruce Greenwood) dies of a heart attack during a sex game.

Read more

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The Shining: 5 Things Jack Torrance Taught Us About Social Distancing and Quarantine

By David Crow

Handcuffed to a bed in their remote cabin in the woods, Gugino’s Jessie must face the fact no one is coming to save her in the next week… more than enough time to die of dehydration or the wolf prowling about. Thus the specter of death hovers over the whole movie, seemingly literally with a monstrous shade emerging from the shadows to bedevil Jessie each night. A trenchant character study that frees Gugino to show a wide range of terror, determination, and finally horrifying desperation, the movie delves into the shadows of a woman haunted by trauma and demons almost as scary as her current situation. Almost.

The Gift

Who knew Joel Edgerton had it in him?

The Gift is the Australian actor’s writing and directing debut and it doesn’t disappoint. Edgerton stars as Gordon “Gordo” Mosely. He’s a nice enough middle-aged man if a little “off.” One day while shopping he runs into an old high school classmate Simon (Jason Bateman) and his wife Robyn (Rebecca Hall). After their brief encounter, Gordo takes it upon himself to start dropping off little gifts to Simon and Robyn’s home. Robyn sees no problem with it at first. But Simon becomes disturbed, perhaps because of the unique past Simon and Gordo share.

Many horror movies understand there must be a twist of some sort or at the very least an unexpected third act. Even still The Gift‘s third act switch up is particularly devastating because it’s so mundane and logical. The Gift ends up being an emotional drama disguised as horror.

The Girl with All the Gifts

Just when you thought there was nothing left to be done with the zombie genre, in comes a shocking and original idea… one that has sadly grown only more scary in 2020 with regards to The Girl with All the Gifts. A brilliant little indie from Colm McCarthy, this underrated gem imagines a zombie apocalypse as something closer to a viral pandemic that lasts for generations…. and one where a vaccine is always just out of reach.

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Movies

Evil Dead Movies: The Most Soul Sucking Moments

By David Crow

Movies

Zombie Comedies Ranked

By David Crow

Thus enters the class of Helen Justineau (Gemma Arterton). Years after a fungal infection ravaged the planet, turning the infected into “hungries” (breathing zombies), their offspring have shown a creepy ability to retain the ability to think, learn, and love… even as they crave living flesh.

Hence the students in Helen’s class, including her favorite Melanie (Sennia Nanua). The child is special… too much so when it’s believed her biology could create a vaccine that would spare anymore humans turning “hungry.” But to harvest her body, the military will drag Helen and Melanie through an urban hellscape which has reduced London to an abandoned refuge for Hungries and feral children who likewise hunt uninfected humans for food.

The Golem

The Golem is such an awesome monster from Jewish mythology that it’s hard to believe they don’t make more movies about him. Well now they have. The Golem isn’t a straight-up remake of the 1915 movie of the same name so much as it is the next step in the evolution of this grim mythological beast.

During the outbreak of a plague, Hanna (Hani Furstenberg) will do whatever it takes to defend her community from outside invaders. Unfortunately, and in true fairy tale fashion, the creature she conjures up to defend her community quickly develops a murderous mind of its own.

Green Room

Green Room is a shockingly conventional horror movie despite not having all of the elements we traditionally associate with them. You won’t find any monsters or the presence of the supernatural in Green Room.

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Movies

31 Best Horror Movies to Stream

By Alec Bojalad and 1 other

Movies

The 13 Best Horror Movie Themes

By David Crow

Instead all monsters are replaced by vengeful neo-Nazis and the haunted house is replaced by a skinhead punk music club in the middle of nowhere in the Oregon woods. The band, The Aint Rights, led by bassist Pat (Anton Yelchin) are locked in the green room of a club after witnessing a murder and must fight their way out.

Horns

A horror vintage for a distinctly acquired taste, Alexandre Aja’s Horns is a bizarre fairy tale for adults. As much a revenge fable as a typical chiller, this movie which put “Harry Potter in Devil Horns” is actually something of a grim love story based on a novel by Joe Hill.

Daniel Radcliffe plays Ig Perrish, an outcast in his local community who wants nothing more than to forever be by the side of his lifelong love Merrin (Juno Temple). After her brutal unsolved murder prevents that, Ig swears he’d sell his soul to get revenge.

Funny thing is the day after he makes such a proclamation, horns begin growing from his forehead. The greater they grow, the easier it is to get sinners around him to confess their most hidden shames, and indulge in others. But with the clock ticking before he becomes a full-fledged demon, and his soul is presumably claimed by Beelzebub, there is only a narrow window before he can get revenge while raising a little hell.

Hush

In his follow-up to the cult classic Oculus, Mike Flanagan makes one of the more clever horror movies on this list. Hush is a thrilling game of cat-and-mouse within the typical nightmare of a home invasion, yet it also turns conventions of that familiar terror on its head.

For instance, the savvy angle about this movie is Kate Siegel (who co-wrote the movie with Flanagan) plays Maddie, a deaf and mute woman living in the woods alone. Like Audrey Hepburn’s blind woman from the progenitor of home invasion stories, Wait Until Dark (1967), Maddie is completely isolated when she is marked for death by a menacing monster in human flesh.

Like the masked villains of so many more generic home invasion movies (I’m looking square at you, Strangers), John Gallagher Jr.’s “Man” wears a mask as he sneaks into her house. However, the functions of this story are laid bare since we actually keep an eye on what the “Man” is doing at all times, and how he is getting or not getting into the house in any given scene. He isn’t aided by filmmakers who’ve given him faux-supernatural and omnipotent abilities like other versions of these stories, and he’s not an “Other;” he’s a man who does take his mask off, and his lust for murder is not so much fetishized as shown for the repulsive behavior that it is. And still, Maddie proves to be both resourceful and painfully ill-equipped to take him on in this tense battle of wills.

Insidious

Insidious is the start of a multi-film horror franchise and a pretty good one at that. Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne star as a married couple who move into a new home with their three kids. Shortly after they move in, their son Dalton is drawn to a shadow in the attic and then falls into a mysterious coma from which they can’t wake him.

It’s at this point that the Lamberts do what horror fans always yell at characters to do: they move out of the damn house! Little do they know, however, that some hauntings go beyond mere domiciles.

The Invitation

Seeing your ex is always uncomfortable, but imagine if your ex-wife invited you to a dinner party with her new husband? That is just about the least creepy thing in this taut thriller nestled in the Hollywood Hills.

Indeed, in The Invitation Logan Marshall-Green’s Will is invited by his estranged wife (Tammy Blanchard) for dinner with her new hubby David (Michael Huisman of Game of Thrones). David apparently wanted to extend the bread-breaking offer personally since he has something he wants to invite both Will and all his other guests into joining. And it isn’t a game of Scrabble…

It Comes at Night

Surviving the apocalypse comes with a certain amount of questions. For starters, what do you do after you survive a global pandemic thanks to your secluded cabin in the woods…and then someone comes knocking? That’s the situation that the family consisting of Paul (Joel Edgerton), Sarah (Carmen Ejogo), and Travis (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) find themselves in in It Comes at Night.

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TV

Best Horror TV Shows on Netflix

By Alec Bojalad

TV

Best Horror TV Shows on Hulu

By Alec Bojalad

When Paul and his family come across another family in the woods seeking shelter and water, they hesitantly welcome them in. But this soon proves to be a dangerous decision. Having guests in the real world is annoying enough to deal with and it only becomes harder when you suspect that any one of them could be sick with a highly-contagious, utterly fatal illness.

Paranormal Activity

Ignore the sequels. Yes, you know they’re bad and we know they’re bad. But long before “the Ghost Dimension” (whatever the hell that means), there was this eerie surprise hit that started it all. A movie which was estimated to be the most profitable movie of all time in its day–earning $193.4 million worldwide on a budget of $15,000–Paranormal Activity put Blumhouse Productions on the map and is still a supremely affecting piece of atmosphere.

Presented as the true story of a young, and not wholly likable, couple (Katie Featherston and Micah Sloat), the film follows the pair as they attempt to document the bumps they’re hearing in the house at night–only to discover a demonic presence and some repressed memories for one party. A still brilliant exercise in sound design, tension, and the uncanny ability to trick audiences into believing what they’re seeing is actually happening, this remains the best found footage horror movie ever made.

Poltergeist

Before there was Insidious, The Conjuring, or a myriad of other “suburban family vs. haunted house” movies, there was Poltergeist. Taking ghost stories out of the Gothic setting of ancient castles or decrepit mansions and hotels, Poltergeist moved the spirits into the middle class American heartland of the 1980s. With a smart screenplay by no less than Steven Spielberg (and, according to some, his ghost direction), Poltergeist finds the Freeling family privy to a disquieting fact about their new home: It’s built on top of a cemetery!

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TV

The Best Haunted House Movies and TV Shows of All Time

By Sarah Dobbs

Movies

How Annabelle Comes Home Fits into The Conjuring Universe

By Don Kaye

You probably know the story, and if you don’t you can guess it after decades of copycats that followed, but this special effects-laden spectacle still holds up, especially as a thriller that can be enjoyed by the whole family. Fair warning though, if your kids have a tree outside their window or a clown doll under their bed, we don’t take responsibility for the years of therapy bills this may inflict!

Red Dragon

The often overlooked other child of the Hannibal Lecter movie family, Red Dragon is no The Silence of the Lambs, no matter how much it wishes it was. Nor is it as visually evocative or luscious as Ridley Scott’s decadent Hannibal. Nevertheless, we find this prequel to both films to be at least worthy of association with the former, and ultimately more satisfying than the latter. A definite attempt to reshape Thomas Harris’ first novel to feature the Lecter character into a Silence of the Lambs clone, Red Dragon still has quite a bit to enjoy.

At the top of the list is of course Sir Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal for the third and final time. Definitely his hammiest iteration of the character, even a campy Hopkins is impossible to resist given the not-so-good doctor’s droll wit or distinct taste palate. Director Brett Ratner’s framing around Lecter is competent enough, and he wisely gets a superb supporting cast who can overwhelm any shortcomings.

Edward Norton is a compelling lead FBI detective; Philip Seymour Hoffman is delightfully repellent as a tabloid journalist who suffers a terrifying fate; and Ralph Fiennes roars as the serial killer who inflicts that fate on Hoffman. It may be no Manhunter–Michael Mann’s first adaptation of the source novel–but Red Dragon‘s the one on Netflix. So love the one you’re with!

The Silence of the Lambs

If you are only going to watch one Hannibal Lecter movie, this is the all-time masterpiece which remains the sole horror movie to win an Oscar for Best Picture. An absolutely gripping thriller even 30 years later, Jonathan Demme’s movie is an all-time great because of stellar performances and a sharp screenplay told by an even sharper eye.

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Movies

The Silence of the Lambs: A Thinking Person’s Monster Movie

By Ryan Lambie

Movies

Best Horror Movies on Hulu

By Alec Bojalad and 1 other

Here is the movie that kicked off the serial killer craze in Hollywood during the ’90s. Yet more than the gory details, what lingers in the mind are little things like an opening sequence that introduces Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) as the lone woman on an elevator full of FBI ubermensches, or the way Anthony Hopkins breaks his unrelenting stare to mispronounce “Chianti” with dripping disdain for the Yokel sent to interview him. Every facet of this movie works, and thus it hasn’t aged a day. We do recommend watching it with a side of fava beans, though.

Sinister

One of the better Blumhouse chillers to come out of the 2010s, Sinister is the case of a brilliant elevator pitch meeting a superior pair of talents in director Scott Derrickson and star Ethan Hawke to bring it to life.

The setup of the movie is simple: There is a pagan demon god who will consume the soul of any nearby children whenever someone sees him. And not just him, but recreations of his image on walls. And wouldn’t you know it, true crime journalist Ellison (Hawke) just moved into a house with an attic full of home movies stuffed to the gills with Bughuul. And Ellison’s daughter is right downstairs. Uh oh.

Sleepy Hollow

As much a comedy as a horror film, Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow should always be on the table when discussing October viewing options. After all, this demented reimagining of Washington Irving’s classic short story, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” never forgets the selling point is to have them rolling in the aisles. And more than a few heads do just that.

As a film with the most varied and imaginative uses of decapitation, Sleepy Hollow cuts a bloody path across Upstate New York. In fact, despite its American setting, we might as well confess what Sleepy Hollow really is: a modern version of a Hammer horror movie.

Burton incorporates all of his favorite tropes here: The intentionally stuffy faux-British acting (even though all the characters are of Dutch descent); the exaggerated and formal clothing; more than a few heaving bosoms; and lots and lots of gore. This film is so perfectly macabre and gleefully grotesque that you might even be forgiven for not noticing at first glance how dryly funny and deadpan a place this Sleepy Hollow tends to be.

Splice

What if Dr. Frankenstein banged his monster? That is just one of several creepy elements to Splice, a weird psychosexual sci-fi/horror hybrid. Directed by Vincenzo Natali and starring Adrien Brody and Sarah Polley as the world’s worst scientists, Splice follows two not-so-smart doctors who attempt to play God by creating an entire new species of creature they name Dren (Delphine Chanéac).

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Books

Frankenstein Adaptations Are Almost Never Frankenstein Adaptations

By Kayti Burt

Movies

Best Horror Movies Streaming on HBO Max

By David Crow and 2 others

At first a computer-generated child with alien eyes and a roping tail, Dren soon grows from girl to young woman, seducer to… well, something even more unexpected. Weird, unpleasant, and ultimately unshakable like that one bad dream, Splice plays with ideas of identity, gender, and parenthood.

Sweetheart

Don’t let the name fool you, Sweetheart is very much a horror movie. What kind of horror movie, you ask? Well, after a boat sinks during a storm, young Jennifer Remming (Kiersey Clemons) is the only survivor. She washes ashore a small island and gets to work burying her friends, creating shelter, and foraging for food. You know: deserted island stuff.

Soon, however, Jenn will come to find that the island is not as deserted as she previously thought. There’s something out there – something big, dangerous, and hungry. Sweetheart is like Castaway meets Predator and it’s another indie horror hit for Blumhouse.

Tucker and Dale vs. Evil

Tucker and Dale vs. Evil is a fantastic little satire on the horror genre that, in a similar fashion to Scream, is packed with laughs, gore, and a bit of a message. When a group of preppy college students head out to the backwoods for a camping trip, they stumble upon two good-natured good ol’ boys that they mistake for homicidal hillbillies.

Their quick, off-the-mark judgment of Tucker and Dale lead to these snobs getting themselves into sticky, often bloody, and hilariously over-the-top situations. Tucker and Dale vs. Evil rides a one-joke premise to successful heights and teaches audiences to not judge a book by its cover.

Under the Shadow

This 2016 effort could not possibly be more timely as it sympathizes, and terrorizes, an Iranian single mother and child in 1980s Tehran. Like a draconian travel ban, Shideh (Narges Rashidi) and her son Dorsa (Avin Manshadi) are malevolently targeted by a force of supreme evil.

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Movies

How Jason Blum Changed Horror Movies

By Rosie Fletcher

Movies

The 13 Best Final Girls in Horror Movie History

By David Crow

This occurs after Dorsa’s father, a doctor, is called away to serve the Iranian army in post-revolution and war-torn Iran. In his absence evil seeps in… as does a quality horror movie with heightened emotional weight.

Underworld

No one is going to mistake Underworld for high art. That obvious fact makes the lofty pretensions of these movies all the more endearing. With a cast of high-minded British theatrical actors, many trained in the Royal Shakespeare Company, at least the early movies in this Gothic horror/action mash-up series were overflowing with histrionic self-importance and grandiosity.

Take the first and best in the series. In the margins you have Bill Nighy and Michael Sheen portraying the patriarchs of warring factions of vampires and werewolves, and a love story caught between their violence that’ shamelessly modeled on Romeo and Juliet. It’s ridiculous, especially with Scott Speedman playing one party. But when the other is the oft-underrated Kate Beckinsale it doesn’t matter.

The movie’s bombast becomes the movie’s first virtue, and Len Wiseman’s penchant for glossy slick visuals, which would look at home in the sexiest Eurotrash graphic novel at the bookstore, is its other. Combined they make this a guilty good time. Though we recommend not venturing past the second or third movie.

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[stetervault]

Do you know any fics where peter is still scarred from the fire? I could only find one (can't remember its name sorry) thank you x

Welp this was from like a trillion years ago… sorry.

(Some of these have Peter eventually healing the scars within the story, and/or they’re not a huge part of the fic. I picked them out because they each have scarred!Peter for at least part of the fic.)

Trust in the End by ShebaRen, Tahlruil

Stiles had always kind of assumed that the end of the world was going to be full of fire and panicking people. Nuclear warfare had pretty much been his guess as to how it would all go, but he could be flexible on that. His only certainty was that it would be man-made, because people always messed things up.

He hadn’t expected the end to be full of snow and freezing cold. He hadn’t expected to be so alone while it was happening, hadn’t thought he would be making a trek from California all the way up to - if his maps and bearings were right - Washington State. He definitely hadn’t expected for it all to happen while his parents were away on a trip for their second honeymoon.

Thankfully he’d fallen in with a wolf who had saved his life and then hung around like a bad penny afterward.

paint it black (please don’t, rainbows are so much nicer) by WindyRein

He’s ten when his soulmate slips into a coma. He’s eleven when he sees his soulmate for the first time. He’s sixteen when he actually meets his soulmate.

Keep You (Safe) Within my Shadow by lavenderlotion

Stiles has never been scared of the dark. The shadows are his friends.

Home by Ragga

Don’t be like him, they would say, and then add, or else you get burned.

Unable to bear the whispers any longer, This One left. He forsook those who forsook him, left him bear his scars alone, the scars he bore for his herd. It was better to be alone, stay off the currents, than swim with those most undeserving of his loyalty. So mote it be.

That is, until he met That One.

Wind Chimes by wynnebat

“Why are you here?” Peter asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I can understand curiosity, but Stiles, you have visited me nearly every day for years. It can’t be that simple.”

Stiles shrugs. It’s both simple and not. For him, who grew up with the wind, who is inseparable from it in the best of ways, it is absurdly simple. For Peter, who doesn’t trust the wind as Stiles does, it may not be. “The wind says you’re mine. That’s all I need.”

Blue by wynnebat

Derek brings both Scott and Stiles to the hospital to prove a point about hunters, but Stiles isn’t sure the point he’s getting is the point Derek’s trying to make. Especially when his black and white world explodes into color the moment he looks into Peter Hale’s eyes.

We are Who We Choose to Follow by kiranightshade

The road is dark. Stiles is maybe a little suicidal. But maybe there’s someone left to live for after all.

From Ashes Rebuilt by ambersagen

“You shouldn’t be alive,” Stiles finally admitted. He sounded sorry, smelled like anxiety and hunched in on himself as he fell back from Peter to land in the dented chair. “I heard the doctors telling your niece. She wasn’t quiet about it, and no one cares if I’m around anyway so I heard the whole thing, about your burns. I snuck in to see you.”

“Like a sideshow freak,” Peter sneered, starting to understand.

“Like a miracle,” Stiles corrected.

If I Never Knew You by Therapeutic_Steter

Stiles leaves the pack and gets his own life under control. Has only contact with his dad anymore. He is happy. One day he meets Peter Hale, he knew Derek back than, but doesn’t connect the dots.

The Choices We Make by Therapeutic_Steter

“You’re quite the clever one, aren’t you?” Peter mused, voice like honey.

“I like to think so.“

“What’s your name?”

“Stiles.”

Peter smiled slowly, looking like a cat that just caught the canary. “Well hello, Stiles,” he purred, eyes flashing a bloody red.

Stiles grinned victoriously. Viciously.

The hunt was on.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Naked Terror by Bunnywest

Peter’s only here to inspect the fire extinguisher. The last thing he expects is for a naked man to come charging at him, swinging a baseball bat and screaming.

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night by Guede

This is a ghost story. It’s not straightforward.

let the only sound (be the overflow) by Green

s1 AU Stiles is a water nymph.

The Fire and the Flood by Green

Stiles and Peter are soulmates who meet the day before the Hale fire.

Not Meek, Not Biddable, Too Unconventional, So Very Screwed by ladyoneill

In a world where Betas have become the norm, but Alphas are still the leaders, the wealthy, the powerful, Omegas are very rare and the only ones who can birth or sire Alphas with other Alphas. Born to two Betas, raised as a Beta, of course Stiles presents as an Omega on his sixteenth birthday because his life sucks that way. One month later is his ceremony where technically he chooses an Alpha as his mate for the rest of their lives, and Stiles is given three options. One isn’t ever going to happen, a second doesn’t really want him, so he chooses the third–a man twice his age, scarred and just out of a six year coma. Scared, because he has very few rights and this stranger can do anything to him, control any aspect of his life, and Stiles isn’t a stereotypical submissive Omega happy to be home ironing shirts and suckling babies, he’s surprised to find that Peter isn’t a stereotype either (for one, he’s a damn good cook). Is it possible that his life won’t suck that much after all?

Sympathy for the Devil by KouriArashi

Stiles gets a job as a hospital orderly and finds himself becoming strangely attached to the catatonic man on the long-term care ward, and finds out that there’s a lot more to Peter Hale than there seems…

And a list of mine if anybody’s interested:

when you’re going through hell (keep going for me)

Peter is abandoned in the aftermath of the fire, and Eichen House takes ruthless advantage. Six years later, when he’s finally able to move again, he finds himself in a cell with a boy in a straitjacket.

(Kate’s biggest mistake was letting Peter live. Eichen House’s biggest mistake was letting Peter meet Stiles.)

Safe Harbour (Stetopher)

Peter didn’t think he’d find a home here. He certainly didn’t think he’d find a home with two other men.

Chris and Stiles prove him wrong.

In Sickness, Health, and Murder

A chance to topple an empire doesn’t come around every day. If nothing else, Stiles’ new husband can provide that much. Still, he hopes Peter can be more than just an excuse.

Sanctuary (wip)

Stiles is a vet, he runs the animal shelter that his parents left him, and he’s looking to hire some extra help. It takes a while to find someone suitable, but the wait is worth it when he finally hits jackpot in the form of a man broken by life.

Peter’s just looking for a place to belong in a world that has long since moved on without him. Who knew he’d find it in an amber-eyed vet with a family made up of animals and a past entwined with his own.

Growing Up, Growing Strong

Stiles is adopted by the Hales.

Cat’s Cradle

Stiles hasn’t been human in a very long time.

Don’t Forget to Breathe

The fire destroys every last reason Peter has to continue living. Stiles gives him a new one.

Kismet

They meet in the hospital, two broken souls with nothing left to lose.

It’s the best thing to ever happen to either of them.

[halfway-happyyy]

Wasted On Each Other

AN: This is a request from a dear mutual. 

That one where you join your boyfriend on the set of Castle Rock, and indulge in a cheeky game of hide and seek between the trees. S M U T ensues. Enjoy!

Word count: 2,467

When you awaken in the bright morning light, it is to the feeling of Bill’s fingertips tracing gentle patterns into the planes of your skin. He doesn’t say much, and he doesn’t linger long in one spot, but he does make sure to pay special attention to the rounded curves of your ass. “Turn over,” He murmurs, his voice low and heavy beneath the weight of recent slumber. You do as you’re told. Bill’s hand travels to the base of your throat where a violet bruise blooms in the flesh there. He smiles to himself when he spots the second one just below the lobe of your ear. “Did I make you feel good last night baby girl?”

           “You did.”

           His fingers dance lazily from the base of your throat, past your clavicle, to the already hardened bud of your nipple. His fingers leave trails of fire in their wake, and though you try not to, you squirm in anticipation under his touch. Bill bends his head to take a nipple into his mouth, allowing his teeth to graze the sensitive skin there. He pulls away to blow a steady stream of cool air over the moist flesh, causing you to shiver violently next to him. He enjoys playing this game more than he lets on most of the time. He works his way down the length of your torso, slightly chapped lips pressing chaste kisses into your skin. His hair is long; quite possibly the longest you’ve ever seen it and watching him brush it away from his face turns you on even more. You watch him take a moment to palm the erection growing hard against the constraints of his boxers. Bill’s hand stills on his cock and you watch, eyes half-lidded as he sucks two long fingers into his mouth, gets them really good and wet, and teases mercilessly at the base of your slit.

           “Please, Bill.”

           Bill slides his fingers fully into you, and it’s all you can do to keep from crying out loud. “Please what, baby girl?”

           You throw your head back against the down pillows, hips rolling up to match the measured thrusts of his fingers. “More.”

           “More what?” But he knows. He’s known for a while, and in a moment, his fingers are gone, and you feel inexplicably empty. Bill’s fingers are in his mouth again, he groans lowly against them and it causes a moan to bubble up from the hollow of your throat. The moment passes, and the feeling of Bill inserting a third finger inside of you, almost sends you over the edge right then and there. He rests his forehead against your lower belly as he continues at a faster and harder pace. “Such a good girl, taking what I have to give you. Shall I add another one?” His forehead rests against your lower belly, and the words ghosting across your heated skin causes the breath to hitch in your throat.

           A sudden knock at his trailer door causes Bill’s ministrations to stop completely, and the loss is almost enough to have you scream out in frustration. “Bill! They needed you on set like… ten minutes ago.”

Bill drops his head to the mattress below you in defeat, a string of expletives flows freely from his mouth. Some in English, some in Swedish. “I’ll be out in five minutes Collin- I overslept.” He lifts his glassy gaze to yours and winks cheekily. Bill leans in to press a kiss to your lips, before extricating himself from the bed to slip into his clothing for the day. “Don’t look at me like that, baby.” Bill groans quietly.

You feel sheepish; and although you mostly regret being the reason he’s late to his call-time, you also regret not being able to come shamelessly hard for him. “How are you going to get those pants on over that massive erection you’ve got there?”

Bill tilts his head back and elicits a laugh that causes a shiver to start at the base of your spine. “I’m sure I’ll find a way.” You watch as the fingers that were buried to the hilt inside of you only seconds ago, nimbly button up a green plaid shirt. He gives himself one last once-over in the mirror on the back of his door, and gestures to where you’re seated in bed. “You should come visit me on set today. I’ll be taking a break in the next few hours here and have half a mind to finish up where we left off.”

There is something about watching Bill hone his craft that is entirely transfixing to you. It’s the subtle way that he slips out of the skin you’re used to seeing him in, into a skin that is completely foreign to the both of you. It’s effortless; like breathing. This is one thing (out of thousands) that just comes naturally to him. It is a gift that, although had also been passed down to other siblings, also succeeds in setting Bill apart from the other three. “That’s lunch, you guys.” Michael pulls the headphones from his neck and gestures to Bill and the few other actors crowded around him. “Take 45 minutes, and we’ll meet back here around 2:45.” Michael clears his throat and gestures for Bill to come see him. “I’m not going to need to send a search party for you, am I?”

Bill’s gaze travels to his feet and he shakes his head, a sheepish grin stretches across his face. “’Course not, Mikey.”

“Forty-five minutes, hey?” You ask, shielding a hand over your eyes as the Massachusetts sun beats down on you. “Not much time for a romp in the old trailer, now is there?”

           Bill lets a moment pass between the pair of you before he shrugs. “Why would you assume we’d have to go back to the trailer in order for me to fuck you senseless?”

You swallow hard at this, and despite the warmth of the weather currently, his words cause goosebumps to rise in patterns in your skin. You clear your throat, arms crossed, and turn fully to him. “And what exactly did you have in mind then?”

“How about a quick game of hide and seek?”

It’s an innocent enough suggestion, but the way Bill broaches it makes you shiver in total anticipation. “You’re on, Skarsgård.” With that, he turns on his heel without a word, and you watch his figure becomes swallowed by the dense smattering of trees around you. You tentatively take a few steps forward and lose yourself as well. It’s easy enough to do; the only sound for miles around you are the firs swaying the wind, their branches gasping like the breaths out of one thousand souls.

“Where are you, baby girl?”

Bill’s voice finds you on the wind, causes you to turn in a circle and peer deeply into the vast, viridian ocean of trees. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a game now would it?” The sound of a stick snapping a few hundred yards from where you stand, causes you to jump uneasily on the spot. “And in full Bill fashion, you are going to pounce out of the bush and send me into the throes of heart failure.”

A laugh, loud and hearty disrupts the cocooned silence around you. “Just tell me where you are.”

“No.”

“No?” Bill asks incredulously.

“Why would I do that? Where would the fun in that be?”

“Forget the fun, darling! My next call-time is in thirty-five minutes!”

You kick a stray rock from your path and shrug your shoulders. “Do not forget that this was your idea Bill…”

You strain in the silence for any sound of twigs snapping, or leaves rustling, and you get complete and total silence in return. It becomes so quiet that it’s almost deafening. “Bill?” You call out, voice wavering ever so slightly.

“Gotcha!” Your boyfriend bursts through a gap in the trees, his cheeks flushed pink against his alabaster visage.

You double over, hands planted firmly to the tops of your knees. You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself, the thought of punching him square in the jaw crosses your mind multiple times. “You… are an asshole.”

Bill’s shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “It’s been said once or twice.” He eyes you for a moment, still slightly out of breath from his impromptu entrance. In seconds, he crosses the distance to where you stand and backs you up against a tree. You don’t have time to collect your thoughts before his mouth is on you. Everywhere. His lips leave trails of fire everywhere they ghost, as your skin scorches beneath their very touch. “You like teasing me?”

You lift your gaze to his, and nod ever so subtly. “It can be fun.”

Bill clears his throat before pulling you back from the tree and turning you around forcefully so that you’re facing it. “You know what else is fun?” You shake your head silently, though you have a pretty good idea of what he’s about to follow up with. “Punishing you for teasing me.” He reaches around to the waistband of your jeans, finds the button and zipper, and undoes both in a matter of seconds. “You deserve everything I’m about to do to you.” You hold your breath as Bill shucks the material from your legs in one swift motion. You rest your head against the bark of the tree, reveling in the sweet scent of the pine around you. Bill’s hand caresses your right ass cheek and in seconds he lifts it and slaps it down hard against the soft skin there. The sound reverberates off of the fauna around you and causes immediate goosebumps to bloom there. Bill’s fingers traverse the small bumps gently, as if he were reading braille, and then let’s loose another impossibly hard slap. You writhe against the tree, the woody texture grinding abrasively against your cheek. “I think you are entirely deserving of a few other ones, baby girl.” You close your eyes tight and grind your teeth together in anticipation of what’s about to happen. Your pussy aches at the thought, the urge to touch yourself is almost over-powering. He lets loose a flurry of slaps, each one more painful than the last. He does it until you are literally screaming out into the air before you. Bill’s lips find the crook of your neck, and he latches on tightly, causing another red bruise to form there. “Did that hurt baby?”

“Yes,” You whimper, your hand slowly making its way to your clit.

Bill catches this and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “And just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I need… I need something, Bill.”

Bill pulls his pants and boxers down, and in seconds his one hand has both of your arms pinned above your head. “You will not touch yourself unless I say, is this in any way unclear?”

You nod your head wordlessly.

“Hmm? Didn’t quite catch that.” He murmurs expectantly.

“Yes, sir.”

Bill spits into the palm of his hand and begins stroking the length of his cock. “That’s a good girl.” With his free hand, he traces invisible lines up and down the length of your torso starting from your armpit to your hip. You bite at the corner of your lip hard enough to draw blood. “Think you’ll have learned your lesson after this?” He hardly gives you a moment to answer before his cock is at your entrance. He teases you mercilessly there too; rubs the ever so sensitive head slowly and deliberately against the slick part of your slit.

Your eyes fall shut as you grind against him shamelessly. “Please Bill…” This particular utterance earns you another hard hit against your left ass cheek.

In seconds, Bill is inside of you. He stills his hips against your ass, and drops his head to your shoulder, letting loose a low growl. He begins at a relatively innocent enough pace; it’s an ebb and flow that never really grows old. It never ceases to drive you close to the brink of absolute insanity. His hands finally drop from your own- his way of letting you know that you are allowed to start touching yourself. You finger dances slowly down to your swollen clit, just pressing a fingertip to it causes a jolt of electricity to ripple violently through your body. Wordlessly, Bill starts to hammer into you, his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you over and over again. “Jesus fuck…”

           A primal scream rips from your throat loudly, and Bill’s hand instinctively travels your mouth and splays out against it, stopping the noise mid-scream. His lips are at the shell of your ear, his ivory teeth graze the sensitive skin there. “Do you want the entire production crew to hear me fuck you?” You shake your head earnestly. “If you want to come for me, you’re going to have to be as quiet as possible.” His hand drops from your mouth to your throat and your eyes widen as his long fingers tighten around the base of it. You press firm circles into your clit, while simultaneously meeting each of Bill’s thrusts with your own. His hand tightens incrementally around your throat as his orgasm nears. He’s cursing now, his forehead rests gently against the top of your shoulder. “I’m close baby girl,” He groans.

           The pressure of his hand around your throat helps to speed the orgasm looming seconds away from you. Waves of pleasure roil around in your belly, causing you to gasp out into the air before you. “Come for me Bill…” Though he is the one who has taken the reins this time around, you know him well enough to know that he cannot resist that particular combination of words. He throws his head back, a long, loud moan bubbles up from somewhere deep. You feel his hips still against your bare ass, and he comes into in you waves, each one stronger than the last, until he is totally empty. It’s all it takes before you are also falling to pieces against him, a muffled cry the only sound of pleasure from your lips. A chaste kiss is pressed to your neck before he pulls out of you, the sudden loss a foreign feeling. You pull your underwear and pants back up your legs, wincing as the denim brushes softly against the raw skin of your ass cheeks. You view him fully and take satisfaction in the notion that he is impossibly sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out.

           “Lesson learned?” Bill asks expectantly.

           You glance at the watch on the underside of your wrist and smile wryly at him. “Not even a little bit.”