#to be clear this would be a complete and total au not like a horse race in france lol

[right-there-ride-on]

would anyone be interested in a sbr napoleonic france au or should I kms

[theghostofashton]

Hi, I am really enjoying your Olympic AU. The thing is I always like to be clear about timeline and small details while reading to enjoy the story to the fullest. I just want to know how old are Carlos and TK in this AU? Has Carlos won Olympic medal before or that was his first Olympic when he got injured? How much time actually he took to come back after injury? There is a reference of TK being a three times Olympic medalist. Did he won all three in one Olympic? Do they compete opposite to each other or they compete in different events?

If answer to any of these is a spoiler, feel free not to answer. I can understand. Thank you.

thank you so much, this is so kind!!

i totally get that, and i'm sorry if anything's been unclear!

they're both around 21-22, a bit younger than canon. my hc for birthdays/ages is tk was born in december 1993, and carlos was born in june 1994. this story takes place in early 2016, so tk would be 22 and carlos would be 21

the reason for that has to do with gymnastics as a sport. because it's very difficult on the body, athletes tend to retire young. men will sometimes go to their mid-late twenties, and sometimes even their 30s, but that's not everyone. (for additional context, the recent men's team that competed in paris had an average age of 22).

carlos did not go to the olympics prior to the one they're currently training for – basically, he competed at olympic trials in 2012 to make the london team (he would have been 18), but fell on vault and tore his acl, taking him out of contention for the team. he had surgery, and the recovery timeline is usually around a year for an injury like that. carlos took a little more time off than that (more detail about this will come in future chapters). the thing about time off in gymnastics is that it is likely that you'll have to start from the basics when you're back, because you lose skills fairly quickly, so he would've needed time to build back up to a level where he could be competitive for the 2016 olympics, before starting to officially train (this is where he is when the fic starts)

yes, tk won 3 olympic medals in london! gold on floor, silver on vault, and bronze in the team competition. (as an aside, this fic does exist in kind of its own universe, because realistically, this probably wouldn't have happened in rio. in women's gymnastics, the US is incredibly dominant and has been for years, but they are nowhere close to that in men's. japan and china are huge, russia's also pretty dominant, etc. the US men's team was very much not in the position to win team bronze, and nowhere close to one of their members winning a gold on floor. the US men won bronze in paris and that was absolutely huge because it wasn't really expected)

in regards to competing, they'll both be doing pretty much the same thing. the way gymnastics works at the olympics, there is first a team qualification round where teams complete in six apparatuses (vault, floor, pommel horse, still rings, parallel bar, and high/horizontal bar) to both make team final and event finals. the top 8 gymnasts in each individual apparatus go on to compete in the event final for that particular apparatus, and the top 8 countries make the team final. the top 24 all around scores (adding up all the scores on each of the six apparatuses) go on to compete in the all-around final.

in this fic, tk's strengths are vault and floor, and carlos's are high bar and parallel bars. if on the olympic team, tk would likely make vault and floor finals, but possibly no others, while carlos would likely make both bar finals. they both do compete on all the events, however, to possibly make one of those 24 spots for the all-around final, and also to be able to help the team as much as possible in the team competition. so technically, if they both made the all around final, they'd be competing against each other, but otherwise, they're competing together for their team, and against all the other gymnasts that make any event final they qualify into.

i hope that makes sense!! gymnastics is a pretty confusing sport and took me a while to wrap my head around so feel free to ask any follow ups and i'd be happy to go into more detail :)

[last-capy-hupping]

I thought that I’d make a post with random trivia details for my modern Silmarillion AU, Anywhere With You, which focuses on Russingon. Feel free to ask for more, and I’ll answer it as long as it doesn’t contain spoilers.

Warnings: some vague discussions of Maedhros’ relationship with Melkor, which was abusive, and some non-graphic discussion of various characters’ sex lives.

1) Fingon claims to be 5’10”, but he’s more like 5’8.5”. Maedhros is six and a half feet tall and can’t tell the difference.

2) Fingon, Turgon, Aredhel, and Argon are all major sporty kids. Fingon plays soccer, though now only as part of a club, and enjoys running and rock climbing. Turgon played football up until he got into the masters section of his accelerated bachelors/masters program in architecture. This allowed Fingon to finally become buffer than his brother. Fingon is not at all smug about this. Aredhel plays softball and volleyball and loves going rock climbing with Fingon. Argon plays high school basketball and has already made the varsity team, even though he’s only a sophomore. He’s already close to Turgon’s height, and he will be taller. All of the Fingolfinions can ride horses and shoot (guns and bows).

3) Quenya is basically this verse’s version of Irish. Fingon is the Americanized name for the semi-legendary St. Findekáno Astaldo, this world’s version of St. Patrick. Fingon’s birthday is March 17, 1999. Even though the lines of Míriel and Indis are completely desperate in this verse, Fëanor, Fingolfin, Finarfin, and Nerdanel are all basically Irish. Anairë is Ghanaian, and Ëarwen is Greek/Cyrpiot.

4) All of Fëanor’s sons have their Quenya names as their middle names, while Nerdanel gave them Sindarized first names. She deliberately combined “Maitimo” and “Russandol” for her first son’s name because he was the prettiest baby she’d ever, and she totally wasn’t biased.

5) Maedhros (b. May 1, 1995) was an extremely well behaved toddler who was very good at self-soothing. He loved being read to, memorized a few children’s books before he was able to read, and used to build elaborate block towers. He loved being a big brother from the start and only tried to return Maglor to the baby delivery place once, after Maglor lost his copy of Goodnight Moon (his favorite book) and destroyed his block formation, a replica of the semi-legendary city of Tirion. Maedhros immediately regretted this and climbed into Maglor’s crib to apologize to him. There is video of this. For a solid three years, Maedhros believed that baby Celegorm was his punishment for not appreciating Maglor enough. Maedhros had an awkward, gangly teenage phase that swimming helped him overcome. His high school team encouraged him and other swimmers to push their bodies to the limits of endurance (getting out of the pool to puke was not an uncommon occurrence during practice), which explains his running habits. His best stroke was the butterfly, which he can no longer do properly due to his rotator cuff injury. He’s had two surgeries to correct some of the damage done by Melkor and to keep it from dislocating easily.

6) Maglor (b. 1997) was very handsome from the time he was a teen and never had acne problems, but he was also a short, skinny band geek. This is why he didn’t believe that Malthenes, his tall, beautiful blonde classmate with a teen modeling contact, was into him. Maedhros had to convince him that Malthenes was serious and drive him to the date. Maglor was a child piano and violin prodigy, and Fëanor encouraged this until it became clear that Maglor wanted to be a professional musician instead of a lawyer. (Fëanor would have also allowed him to become a doctor, but Maglor was always a squeamish boy.) Fëanor blames Malthenes for this because he knows that he raised Maglor to be more reasonable and responsible. Maglor is shorter than his girlfriend/fiancée and thinks that that’s super hot. Malthenes is 5’9” and suspiciously slightly taller than Fingon.

7) Celegorm (b. 1999) was an extremely rowdy, energetic child who broke everything in sight, especially Maglor’s things. He used to smash Nerdanel’s work when he got his hands on it. At the age of two, he gave six-year-old brother Maedhros a permanent hairline scar when he smashed a clay pot over his head. Maedhros made the mistake of trying to take it away from him. The injury required eight stitches, and Celegorm was extremely proud and kept bragging to the hospital staff. (No babysitters were available, so Fëanor and Nerdanel had to drag all four of their kids to the ER.) Celegorm grew up into a rowdy teen who only avoided expulsion by ensuring his high school football team’s continued success. (Maedhros still had to attend some meetings on his parents’ behalf while he was in college and Celegorm was a high school junior/senior.) Celegorm switched to rugby in college because it had more booze and more queerness. He is proudly bisexual and aromantic. He also got his wolfhound Huan from his grizzled elderly mentor (aka Oromë) at the local shooting range in Formenos, Maine. Fëanor is shocked/pleased that Celegorm got a real job, but he’s embarrassed that his son lives in “government housing,” i.e. a park ranger’s house in the national forest outside Alqualondë where he works.

8) Caranthir (b. 2001) is a mathematical prodigy who graduated high school two years early, the same year as Celegorm. He also completed college in two and a half years. He recently got his CPA. He enjoys investing, and frequently tries to influence Maedhros’ investment decisions regarding his own trust fund from their grandfather Finwë. Caranthir is also Angrod’s ex boyfriend. According to Angrod, Caranthir has the best ass that he’s ever seen (“you could serve coffee off of that thing”), and that’s totally the only reason that he’s upset that Caranthir abruptly dumped him over text messages, Finrod. Caranthir is currently dating Haleth. He fell in love with her at first sight at the gym and decided that he had to break up with Angrod immediately and pursue this gorgeous female body builder, who (to Angrod’s despair) has better biceps than anyone Caranthir has ever dated. Caranthir is absolutely devoted to his girlfriend and she to him. He is also her 24/7 sub, which is why he proudly wears the leather collar that she gave him along with his fancy suits. Caranthir is the only son whom Fëanor will not randomly visit because the last time that he dropped by unannounced, Caranthir answered the door wearing the collar and nothing else. He’s very anxious and finicky and carries around a fidget cube. He also helped Curufin uncover Melkor’s tax crimes and blackmail him into leaving the country so that Maedhros would it have to testify against an ex at an abuse/sa trial.

9) Curufin (b. 2004) is also a genius and started taking community college courses early. He is currently looking into the most prestigious college programs available. Fëanor was so impressed with his son’s affinity for computers and coding that he pulled him out of school to homeschool him personally, based on a special curriculum that he designed. He has never dated because he’s too busy, but he’ll probably got out with his father’s business partner’s daughter at some point because Fëanor thinks that they’d be a good match and Fëanor knows him best. He is a very skilled hacker and got into Melkor’s device to steal back all digital copies of sensitive media that Melkor was using to blackmail Maedhros into staying.

10) Amras and Amrod (February 2009) are twins. Amrod is shy and Amras is outgoing, but they support each other in everything. They are particularly devoted to Maedhros, who served as a sort of third parent to them while Fëanor and Nerdanel went through a divorce when they were toddlers. Amrod was scared of storms and loud noises and used to sleep in Maedhros’ bed for “safety” as a child. Amras and Amrod have a twin language, and Maedhros is the only one who knows some of it. Both twins are major fish, amphibian, and reptile enthusiasts, and Fëanor has allowed them to have their own massive aquarium as well as a reptile room. They’ve been promised an iguana as their Winter Solstice present from their father.

11) Fëanor is a brilliant, charismatic local real estate developer and builder from Formenos, Maine who followed in his wealthy father Finwë’s footsteps and became mayor of the small city. He is the only child of Finwë and Míriel, both of whom are still alive and married in this universe. He is so beloved that the citizens voted to abolish term limits so that he could keep running for mayor. Fëanor also owns a local lake resort, as well as a ski resort in the northernmost parts of the Pélori Mountains (my version of the Appalachian Mountains). He also makes jewelry as a side hobby. He and Melkor, a estate developer and a successful political from the neighboring town of Avathar, got into an intense rivalry when Melkor attempted to bankrupt him and buy out his businesses and lands.

12) Nerdanel is a world-renowned sculptress and the only child of the independently wealthy Mahtan. She and Fëanor bonded over their shared ambition and passion for crafts. They married straight out of college and had Maedhros a year later. Nerdanel loves her sons dearly but grew tired of putting up with her husband’s neuroses. She divorced him and moved to Tirion, New York (named after the semi-legendary ancient city) when the citizens of Formenos almost universally sided with their beloved mayor.

13) Fingolfin is the older son of Indis and Ingwion, who are not cousins in this verse. He inherited his parents’ love of fine wines and the Northern California countryside. He and his wife Anairë bonded over their shared love of art and wine and managed to secure investors to buy and start a vineyard in Valmar. They’re currently very wealthy and successful, and they have enough money to give all of their children generous allowances. They’re extremely indulgent and supportive parents who are so happy to have such happy, good-looking, athletic, and academically successful children. They didn’t openly push traditional gender roles on their kids, but they always rewarded and praised their sons for being tough, resilient, and generally traditionally masculine. Also, they never made their kids so much in the way of chores.

14) Fingon was the happiest, friendliest baby ever, and well-meaning but clueless adults often made jokes about him flirting and being budding ladies’ man. He was also an extremely friendly, easygoing; and popular kid from elementary school until basically the start of the fic. He was really smart and never had to work too hard for good grades and academic success. He did well in college and generally got away with partying and procrastinating because he works well under the pressure of impending deadlines. He is also a bit of a fuckboy.

15) Finrod is bisexual, though he’s more likely to be attracted to men than women, and homoromantic. He’s in a very happy QPR with Amarië, who is in the same boat. He’s a very happy writer and budding journalist, who also makes good ad revenue off of his anonymous online blog, where he discuses and opines upon the relationship dramas of his friends and family. His most popular series deals with Andreth and Aegnor, though his cousin Fingon’s stories are forming the basis of a series that’s garnering loads of interest already.

16) Angrod is totally over Caranthir, Finrod!

17) Aegnor is in a high drama, constantly on-again/off-again relationship with Andreth. He’s scared of going out of the honeymoon stage and stupidly keeps breaking up with Andreth, even though he loves her. Andreth keeps taking him back because she loves him and he’s gorgeous and goes down like a champ.

Anyway, if you’ve got other questions, feel free to ask and I’ll answer.

[mickmundy]

Had Medic and Sniper met as kids, say in middle or high school, do you think they might have still ended up drawn to each other? (x)

YOU KNOW WHAT this is really fun for me to think about actually. I don’t ever really like/care for the like. “high school/college/etc aus” because they’re just not very exciting to me personally, but i Do love thinking about medic and sniper In Their Youths every now and then…. and since i do talk about it in my fics (where medic elaborates on his childhood a little bit and so does sniper) a little bit… lets fucking gooooo HEHEHEHE while i don’t think about it A Whole Lot, i do have Some thoughts.. if you’ve read my fics you know that imo medic as a child was a TOTAL hellion.. whereas sniper was much more quiet and polite. i think that if medic was around when sniper was a kid, he could have persuaded him to raise a little hell with him! >:) medic would absolutely have swung on any kids who bullied sniper, and sniper would be like “i’m not ASKING you to do that y’know… i can take care of myself!” and medic’s like “well they shouldn’t be harassing you!” and sniper’s like “why do you care anyway…” and medic’s like “hmm… well, i don’t think you deserve it! and i think someone ought to shut them up!” and sniper’s like “;_; (emotional. shows it a little bc he’s not good at masking)… well… (throat clear)… thanks.” and medic smiles and is like ^_^!

i think medic would encourage sniper to sneak out too.. sniper would be in his bedroom reading late at night and medic would be standing on an overturned bucket outside of sniper’s window and would be like “psst! michel!” and sniper would perk up and crack his window and be like “what are you doing here?!! and don’t you live a billion km away anyway-“ and medic would be like “hoo! ^v^ i wanted to see you! i’ve been thinking about you!!” and sniper’s like Blushes… huffs…. goes to the window and slips out of it and they hide in their small lil barn/shed and sniper shows him their sheep and horses and medic is like Totally Enthralled watching sniper talk about stuff he likes… thinks he’s so cute… ;u; HEHEHE i’ve talked about this before but i think they both have Only Child Vibes but on complete opposite ends of the spectrum. medic is extroverted and Weird and Loud and sniper is introverted and Weird and Quiet… i think they’d absolutely be drawn to each other tbh… medic also i think loved/s to just. start shit for no reason so i think he’d love deflecting bullies from sniper… and i think he’d think sniper was really cute!! SO TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION yes! i think medic would be a lot like a little devil on his shoulder just like he is now!! >:) <3

[mm2305]

What Ethan & Olivia AU is this? #OpenHeartAU

An eventful encounter

Pairing : Ethan Ramsey x Olivia Valentine || Rating/Genre : Teen+/romance, general || Warnings / Words : none / 2.8k ||Setting : Alternate Universe - Regency Era || Disclaimer : all characters and pictures belong to the rightful owners

Summary : During one of her trips in town, Olivia meets the newly-arrived Dr. Ramsey.

A/N : Let me start by saying that this has been in my inbox for almost a month and I'm so sorry for the long wait. Secondly, this was something completely new to me, since it's set in a different time and universe, but still very fun to write! No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I really hope this comes out good enough :)

Enjoy!

My masterlist

-/-

Somewhere in the England of 1816

Olivia's pov

"Oh come on you little bugger", a young woman sighed exasperated, looking at her reflection in the vanity. She had been trying for the last twenty minutes to gather her long hair with some pins, but it was difficult to contain all of it in them. Finally, she got ready and rushed down the stairs of her home, Edenbrook Manor.

"Mrs Clarke? Where are you?"

"I am in the kitchens Miss Olivia!", the other woman replied.

Olivia followed the stairwell leading to the kitchen and greeted Mrs Clarke, one of the people who worked in her home. She was more than that to her though, since she was the one who practically raised her, her friend and closest confidant. Her father, Ernest Valentine, was a merchant, quite known for his successful business, but was away from home most of the year, coming only a few weeks at a time. Therefore, her mother, Anne Valentine, was left to manage most of the affairs regarding the estate and surrounding grounds they owned. Both did love her dearly, they just didn't have time for her. Since she had no siblings, she was left with no one's company but Mrs Clarke's ,who in her and her family's eyes had become a member of the Valentine family too.

"Do you need anything else from the market Mrs Clarke?"

"No Miss, that's everything we need. Are you sure you want to go, though ?"

Having grown up close to her, Olivia was always helping around the house in whatever ways she could, even though she wasn't expected or needed to do so. Of course, she didn't neglect her occasional music , embroidery and drawing lessons, even though her true passion was biology, anatomy and science. In another world she imagined herself being a doctor, but since that wasn't possible, she just made the best of the situation at home, doing many things to pass her time.

"Of course! It will be a great chance for me to get some fresh air since I have not been out for a while. I promise I will be careful."

"Alright dear. Then you had better go now, it's quite a walk to the market.Who knows, you may meet somebody worth going to a ball with today."

"Not likely Mrs Clarke. And besides, you know I have high standards."

With a slight wave to Mrs Clarke, Olivia took her basket and headed out of the Manor.

----------

After a long, refreshing walk, Olivia reached the local food market. Rows upon rows of products had filled the sides of the road, the smell of flowers, herbs and fresh fruit invading her senses. People moved at their own pace, some slow and others faster, with baskets of their own at hand and doing their shopping. The whole street seemed to have come alive on that warm, autumn afternoon, creating a charming, quaint picture.

In just a few minutes she had gathered everything she needed, her basket full of herbs, vegetables and fruit. Ready to go home, she turned around, towards the end of the market, not noticing the tall man coming her way and colliding with him, the force knocking her down on the ground.

"I am so sorry sir, I did not mean --"

"Forgive me Miss I --", they both started apologizing at the same time. Olivia noticed she was still on the ground and the stranger offered his hand and carefully helped her back on her feet.

Finally looking up at him, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

The stranger was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. He was tall with a strong physique. His hair was a dark mahogany brown color, just visible in his hat, leading to his piercing, ocean blue eyes. He had a sharp jawline with high cheekbones and she was sure that his smile would be just as beautiful as the rest of his face.

His warm hand was still holding hers, the gesture sending sparks through her body. The man, noticing he was still holding her hand, cleared his throat and dropped it gently.

"I am deeply sorry, Miss. I hope you are not hurt.", he said in a deep yet gentle voice.

"I am alright, thank you for your assistance Mr..?"

"Ramsey. Ethan Ramsey. And you are?"

"Olivia Valentine, sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine. Oh! You dropped your basket!". He immediately bent down to gather the scattered apples, pears and whatever else could be saved.

"Please allow me, you need not do this…", she also kneeled beside him to gather the items, her hand going to catch an apple at the same time as Mr. Ramsey,their fingers briefly touching. They both locked eyes again, the movement making Olivia's cheeks redden in color. Did he feel that too? Looking away from his eyes for the sake of modesty and back at her now half full basket, she realized that she had to start making her way back home soon, if she wanted to make it before dinner. With a small sigh, she got up and dusted her dress,more than a little disappointed that she hadn't had the time to learn anything about Mr. Ramsey.

"Thank you once more Mr Ramsey. I sincerely apologize for falling onto you. If you'll excuse me, I need to return back home. I wish you a pleasant afternoon. ", she smiled softly at him and curtsied briefly before turning her back to him and starting walking. Hmm… I have never seen him before in town. Maybe Mrs. Clarke knows something about him. She decided she would ask Mrs. Clarke for more information when she reached home. Alas, she had not made it three feet away when Olivia heard him coming behind her.

" Ms. Valentine? "

" Yes? ", Olivia turned around curiously looking at him.

" Would you allow me to walk you back to your house? I… It's the least I could do for you after our eventful encounter", he asked with a hint of a smile on his face.

He really is handsome, she thought wordlessly. Was this her chance to get to know the mysterious man better? Was this a chance for a new friendship to bloom? Maybe something more? "Stop getting ahead of yourself Olivia. You just met this man! He may even be married!", The little voice in her mind warned her, but her heart, full of excitement at the prospect of getting to know him better, had already decided.

" I would love to"

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

Ethan's pov

Ethan was absentmindedly walking across the stone paved streets of the town he had just moved in. Or rather, his new residence was close to this town. Instead of taking his horse, he decided to take a walk from his house to the town, to get a feeling of orientation around this new place. Being prepared and feeling in control, made him feel more confident in himself, particularly since he was not good at social interactions. Being a man of solitude and always focused on his work, made him unwilling to make any meaningless acquaintances, the frivolous events he was often invited to, being of no essence to him. It was because of his work that he decided to move here.

Immersed in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice the young lady that accidentally ran directly into him. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground, Ethan immediately apologizing and offering his hand to help her back up.

When the young woman looked up at him, he was left speechless.

This lady, whoever she was, was easily the most beautiful woman he had encountered in all the thirty years of his life. She had golden, blond hair that seemed softer than the most expensive silk and a spotless, alabaster skin. Her big, forest green eyes seemed to be able to see right through his soul and her rosy, full lips were in perfect harmony with her features. She was quite shorter than him, her head just reaching his shoulder and he could guess, even through the many layers of clothing, that she had a lean, feminine frame.

Her hand was soft and small in his and that's when he noticed he was still holding it. Clearing his throat to collect himself, he apologized again to her.

"I am alright, thank you for your assistance Mr..?", she asked him, her voice sounding like the most beautiful of melodies.

"Ramsey. Ethan Ramsey. And you are?"

"Olivia Valentine, sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Where have I heard that name from though? Catching himself being so entranced in this lady he just met, he allowed his eyes to wander away from her, when he noticed her basket, previously full of products, now scattered on the ground. He set down to gather whatever could be saved, knowing he must seem like a fool for doing what a gentleman would never probably do. All his thoughts flew out of the window, when he felt that spark again from both their fingers closing around an apple. Olivia's cheeks turned in a color close to the apple she was holding, making her seem even more beautiful than before. What is it that has me totally mesmerized by this woman?

To his great displeasure, their brief encounter would have to be cut short, since she had to return back to her house. Wishing him farewell, she began walking away but before he fully thought about what he was about to ask, his feet were carrying him towards her.

"Ms Valentine?"

She turned around, clearly wondering what he wanted to ask from her. "Yes?"

Taking a deep breath he gathered the courage to ask her what he wanted. "Would you allow me to walk you back to your house? I… -he staggered even though he never did before, looking for a reason to convince not only her but himself too as to why he was doing this for someone he just met - It's the least I could do for you after our eventful encounter", he added with a small smile.

For a few seconds that really seemed to stretch into hours, he could see the wheels in her mind turning, before she looked up at him and said the words he so much had come to want to hear.

"I would love to"

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

Olivia's pov

Ethan offered her his arm to take and Olivia weaved hers through it, her hand settled at the crook of his arm.

They began walking and for a few minutes no one said anything, a somewhat awkward silence setting over them. Neither of them seemed sure as to what they should say to break the ice. Finally Ethan, with a small cough, began talking to her.

"Do you live far from town, Miss Valentine?"

"My home, Edenbrook Manor, is about an hour and a half away from here."

"Oh! I actually bought a residence that is, apparently, close to your house."

"So you are the new doctor who bought Kenmore Park!"

"Indeed, I am"

"May I ask what made you choose to come here? I have the feeling you have been offered better and perhaps more, financially speaking, beneficial positions in bigger towns or cities."

He didn't hesitate to answer. "I was offered a position in this hospital and I was instantly aware that here, I could be more useful since there are not many doctors willing to work in a more rural area. Besides, I had missed the countryside. Has my arrival become such a popular issue here? ", he raised an eyebrow teasingly.

"Yes and no, Dr. Ramsey." she put emphasis on the Doctor, teasing him back too.

Ethan lowered his eyes, seeming a little sheepish. "Ah well… I could not find it in my heart to correct you, Miss. I am sorry."

Olivia chuckled, waving her hand dismissively. "You do not need to worry about it, I assure you."

"You see, this is a relatively small town and it is rare that something new happens. People have the tendency to talk. Or rather gossip, if I am being honest. But I actually learnt about you, from my maid, Mrs Clarke. I do not really get out of the house a lot."

"May I ask why?", Mr. Ramsey asked. Then as if considering how indiscreet he must seem, he sucked in a breath and turned to her. "I am sorry, Miss Valentine, it was not my place to ask."

For some reason, Olivia found herself not minding. Normally, she would not be interested in having a conversation with a man, knowing that at her age every move was scrutinized by potential suitors. That is why she remained unmarried at the age of four and twenty, much to society's disappointment. She just could not bind herself to a loveless marriage of interest. However, with Ethan, talking was easy and she felt surprisingly comfortable with this man she only met an hour ago.

"Well. I remain unmarried at the age of four and twenty and people like I said before, tend to talk. I find myself uninterested in what they say but it does make everyday life easier, since I do not have to hear my parents and Mrs Clarke trying to convince me to attend balls at every chance.", she rolled her eyes with what she felt was loving exasperation.

"I honestly could not imagine a woman such as yourself not being asked for her hand in marriage", Dr. Ramsey said, his face carefully neutral at her admission.

"It is not that I have not received any proposals, but it is I who refuses. My father is quite successful at his profession and those suitors were clearly interested in my family's wealth, not me."

"Then yours was a wise decision to make, if you allow me to say this, Miss."

Nodding silently, Olivia contemplated asking the question that had been in her mind ever since they began their walk. Oh just do it already Olivia. Before she could think further about it, she blurted out her question.

" How about you, Dr. Ramsey? Is there a wife waiting for you at home?"

"No, actually. Much like your case, I have no interest in people not caring about the important things in a marriage. That is not to say I stand against the institution. But, there has not been the right person in my life, so far."

A small, imperceptible smile graced her lips at his answer.

"I assume you are quite taken with your job, no? Since you moved to a different area, just because you want to help here…", Olivia changed the topic after a moment, her tone more cheerful and her heart longing to hear how life as a physician is.

"Indeed I am. Of course I owe all the skills I have acquired, to my mentor, Dr. Naveen Banerji head of Solomon's Hospital in London and professor at --"

"Edinburgh Medical School.",she finished with something that could only be described as wonder in her eyes.

" But how do you know?", he turned to her, surprised that she had heard of Naveen.

Olivia's eyes lowered to the ground, knowing that what she was about to say, would make him laugh at her.

"I… I study biology, anatomy and science whenever I can. I know it is something impossible for a woman in our times, but if I had the chance, I would love to take a proper apprenticeship and become a physician. Naturally, I cannot help but be informed about everything surrounding the medical world. And Dr. Banerji is one of the best doctors in the country. "

When she reluctantly looked back into the eyes that seemed to call for her, she saw an emotion similar to admiration in them. What for, she could not understand , but it made the butterflies in her stomach flutter excitedly.

" Miss Valentine, I've known you for just about two hours and yet, I can confidently say that your intelligence would make you an excellent physician. Please, do not hesitate to ask me anything if you have questions, it would be my pleasure to answer them for you.", Ethan assured her, his voice sincere and the opposite of what she expected to hear.

Olivia's face lightened up at that and she started excitedly asking him several questions, for the rest of the way to her house. It had been a long time since she had met someone not dismissing her love for medicine and even longer since she sincerely enjoyed talking to another person besides her family.

"Maybe this could finally really be the start of something worth exploring", they both thought, grinning happily for the rest of the way back, perfectly content in each other's company.

-/-

A/N : if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading!

Tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed and if you want to be moved to another category) :

Perma (all edits and fics) : @romewritingshop @codykosuckmytoe @sophxwithers @actuallybored @potionsprefect @ethansramsey @crystalwillow @gryffindordaughterofathena @kiara-36 @mrsethanfreakingramsey @writer-ish @panda9584 @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @queencarb @shanzay44 @nikki-2406 @starryeyedrookie @coffeeheartaddict @schnitzelbutterfingers @mysticaurathings @starrystarrytrouble @lsvdw-blog @izzyourresidentlawyer @silma-words @stygianflood @headoverheelsforramsey @maurine07 @natureblooms24 @a-crepusculo

Fics : @alina-yol-ramsey // Regency era fics : @princess-geek

[amintyworld]

Dream SMP Fusion AU:

Certainly not me thinking about a Steven Universe AU for Dream SMP because fusions

Also, just to note: Not all fusions are for romantic relationships, so please no shipping since many of the creators are uncomfortable with that. The one somewhat romantic relationship fusion mentioned is between the characters Schlatt and Quackity, and are the only ones classified as such for the lore and story already created - I do not ship them whatsoever. Thank you.

Also, feel free to use these ideas with credit!

TW: Abusive Relationship, Toxic Realtionship, manipulation.

So like, what if during the L’manburg Independence War L’manburg was the only ones who really fused with each other, and the Dream SMP just never really thought it was useful and therefore didn’t really use it all that much for battle, pvp, etc. 

They discovered fusion one day while building the wall when a bit of debris was about to fall on Fundy and Wilbur swooped in to save him, and suddenly... a whole completely different person stood in their place. It didn’t last very long, but Wilbur from then on was determined to learn all he could about it and understand it. 

Wilbur couldn’t seem to explain his findings much scientifically, but he wrote up a journal on all he learned - how the fusion seems to combine and showcase the best parts of each individual person.

An iconic Steven Universe Scene takes place (For you SU fans, when Smoky Quartz first came to be) when Tommy in a effort to get his discs back one day tries to take Dream head on, pushing away Tubbo’s help. Tommy gets throughly beat up by Dream and in a heartfelt moment Tommy tells Tubbo that no matter what he does Dream will always win against him because he’s not strong enough. Then, Tubbo says that that’s not true, that Tommy doesn’t have to be like Dream, if anything Tommy’s like him because they both aren’t like anybody else, and it sucks, but they have each other. Finally Tommy accepts Tubbo’s help as they fuse for the first time.

Eret and Niki fused once while hanging out and dancing one day, which led Wilbur to discover how to trigger the fusion in a more controlled manner - through dancing. 

The war happens with the revolution holding better against Dream and his posse for the short fact that they had fusion on their side - they weren’t totally confident in the ability yet, which lead to some close calls to unfusing at the wrong time, but a few prominent fusions came out of it. In the end, they won and Wilbur continued to write his findings in the journal.

The election came about, and with it the exile of Wilbur and Tommy - this time the two were on the receiving end of fighting with fusions.

Wilbur even suggested on fusing together for survival - together they were more combat skilled, and better focused. After all, there was lesser chance of hurting one target than there was two. So, for a while they stayed together, at least, until Technoblade came to help.

Techno was very awkward at the whole fusion thing - it seemed stupid, and the poor pig hybrid didn’t exactly dance very well, though he was often too embarrassed to admit it. Techno didn’t understand how his two brothers could fuse so easily while he just... couldn’t. (I’m imagining Wilbur coaching him in Pogtopia while Tommy has to wear paint cans in order to each his height)

While out together, the sight of Tubbo causes Wilbur and Tommy to become so distressed they unfuse as Tubbo tells them he wants to help, and becomes their spy.

Back in Manburg, a certain goat hybrid finds Wilbur’s fusion journal and does some light reading. Schlatt thinks that he needs fusion soldiers to fight for him - from what he’s reading, these fusions are practically unstoppable. If he were to have that kind of power at his disposal, no one could stop him.

Being the ‘selfless’ leader he is, he uses himself as a test subject as he fuses with his militia - Punz, Ponk...

Quackity at first makes fun of his attempts as always within five minutes the fusion quickly falls apart. This only pisses of Schlatt more, until he comes up with an idea. 

He confronts Fundy and tells him that if he was loyal to Manburg, and their desires aligned, they’d be able to fuse no problem. Fundy agrees and they become the first completed fusion in Manburg - Fundy only does it because he wants to keep suspicion low and his cover a secret, and it somehow works. Schlatt doesn’t question Fundy much after that.

As the festival gets planned Schlatt continues his tactic of sniffing out traitors through fusion, which does not bode well for Tubbo, who keeps narrowly escaping having to fuse (Looking at the ‘I’m pregnant’ excuse-).

Back in Pogtopia, tensions rise as Wilbur and Tommy become more and more distant as Wilbur plans to blow up Manburg during the festival. 

Festival happens, not much really changes except Schlatt tries to get Niki to fuse with him to prove she wasn’t a traitor and not get killed like Tubbo - Wilbur overhears and intervenes, running away with Niki back to Pogtopia, fusing with her to help both of them escape.

When Quackity tries to leave, Schlatt forces him to fuse to stop the traitor from escaping, and for the first time, the two get trapped in a mixed up mess of a fusion - nothing is combined of the two, it’s all a mish mashed up mess - thankfully they aren’t fused for long and Quackity escapes, but both have the feeling of agony, sorrow and pain of the forced fusion in their minds. 

They take back L’manburg with some awesome fusion v fusion fights.

In a last attempt to keep from dying, Schlatt forces Quackity to fuse with him again in exchange that he release Tubbo, who was on his last cannon life (Schlatt held up a knife to his throat.) Once again, Quackity is trapped down in the painful and dark abyss as their fusion makes mass destruction. Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno all fuse to take  the unstable fusion down.

They succeed in doing so, fatally wounding Schlatt enough to corner him, the stress, drugs, and alcohol combing into a panic attack and he dies. 

From there, things proceed as normal - Techno releases the Withers, Wilbur pushes the button. 

New L’manburg is thriving with Tubbo as the new president... everyone can finally be who they want to be - wounds of course are still healing.

Quackity talks with Tubbo about his bad experience with Schlatt, and Tubbo is there to listen and always tells him that he doesn’t have to fuse if he doesn’t want to... of course fusion can be helpful (Some fusions have been helping repair the TNT and Wither damage) but, Tubbo insists, you don’t have to fuse to be able to help.

Ranboo gets a crash course in fusion basics by Phil and Ghostbur. (It’s like gem classroom, it’s all so cute guys-)

Phil also helps out Fundy who’s still iffy about Wilbur and all that he did for him... namely, fusing with Schlatt to avoid suspicion. It’s all wholesome and sweet, even with Ghostbur and his failed attempts to help in the background.

Things play out as normal in terms of plot - Techno retires, Tommy gets exiled...

Dream, at first, is very committed to blowing up Tommy’s stuff - one day, he says he won’t do it only if Tommy fuses with him, because he’s curious in how it works. 

This turns straight up unhealthy during the Beach Party when Tommy remembers all the times he used to have and how he feels so lonely, and Dream tells him that he’s always gonna be there for him even if they don’t, which results in Tommy and Dream fusing for a while whenever he comes to visit so Tommy won’t feel as lonely or as depressed. Tommy becomes dependent on Dream and the fusing and clings to it to an unhealthy amount, though Tommy of course wouldn’t admit that.

Eventually, Dream blows up Logstedshire and leads to Tommy running away in a brief moment of clarity. 

Phil gets under house arrest as the Butcher Gang try to take Techno down to kill him, but Phil, the ever to clever, gets there before they do and fuses with Techno to help take them down. They unfuse when Quackity threatens Techno’s horse, revealing that Phil snuck out. Techno covers for him and tells them that he broke Phil out, that it’s his fault and Phil had nothing to do with it. They believe him and Phil is in the clear.

The attempt fails, Techno finds Tommy and the two continue to practice fighting while fused - Tommy’s idea from his experience fighting with Wilbur - and they’re pretty strong. Ranboo and Ghostbur hang around and ooo and ahh over their moves.

Tubbo visits Tommy and as in cannon believes he’s dead but for a different reason - he finds evidence of when Tommy and Dream were playing around while fused and thinks that they’re permently fused - Dream forged a letter claiming that exact thing. Tubbo of course blames himself for losing his best friend.

Back in New L’manburg, the Butcher Gang gets fusion training too (except for Quackity) and Ranboo finally fuses for the first time with Fundy, the fusion turning into what a 12 year old would be like on redbull.

While on house arrest, Phil tries fusing with Ghostbur and to his surprise... it works - not for very long, but it works. They come to the conculsion that since Ghostbur is a ghost, that maybe it wasn’t two people fusing but instead a soul and a person, leading to the imbalance.

While Techno and Tommy are fused, they hold Connor captive and ask for ransom... leading Tubbo to be extremely confused when someone he doesn’t know is asking ransom from him who appearently knows him-?!

Only after they unfuse... Tubbo realizes that Tommy’s still... here. He’s still here and not in a fusion with Dream. Things go as in cannon.

Finally, after Dream figures out where Tommy is and tells Techno, any chance he gets with Tommy alone he tries to tell him that they could fix everything if they just fused again, and Tommy keeps finding himself refusing.

Anyway, what do ya’ll think? Should I do a follow up post for the fusions?

[jilytho]

will you accept this rose?

ch1 of my new jily bachelor au

Read below or on AO3

James never intended to become The Bachelor.

Of course he was looking for love, and of course all the women on these shows were gorgeous and inspiring and amazing, but he liked the idea of old fashioned love. Love found from meet-cutes in restaurants or bars or grocery stores or university classes. Love like his parents, real and deep, fast and almost from first sight. They’d literally collided in the library during finals season at school, Fleamont dropped all of his research on polymers and Euphemia’s political science papers got all mixed in and they fell in love righting the papers.

He’d grown up with parents deeply committed to each other and deeply, sincerely in love. And they loved him just as much. He had grown up supported and adored and utterly spoiled. They supported him choosing to pursue a career in professional football over the much safer engineering degree he’d planned to pursue. They attended every single game he played in, waving banners with his face on them right alongside Sirius and Remus. They had set a standard for him that every relationship he’d had failed to meet.

But after months and months of blind dates and terrible tinder dates and people thinking he’s a catfish on tinder just because he used to be a somewhat famous football player, he’s nearly given up hope. He was researching rescue organizations to get a brother cat for Prongs (he was thinking of naming it Padfoot, had a nice ring) when Sirius walked in and spotted him. Sirius turned on his heel and walked out the instant he realized what he was doing and immediately submitted James to be the next Bachelor.

He got picked. At first he fought Sirius on it, nobody actually finds love on those shows. It's all just trashy reality TV but then Sirius got Euphemia involved and it was essentially settled right then and there.

The response had been overwhelming after the announcement. He’d gained three million Instagram followers within the week and was offered multiple sponsorship deals. His management team was thrilled. The show had reportedly received a record number of applicants from women, all hoping to end the season engaged to him or with a couple million followers and an influencer career all set up.

That first night, it all felt very surreal. He was standing there on the edge of a red carpet in a stiff tux and what felt like hundreds of cameras on him. Sweat pooling in his armpits, waiting for 35 women to appear by limo and introduce themselves and potentially become his wife.

Peter kept trying to tell them that there was no way any relationship with any of these women would last because obviously they wouldn’t be there for the ‘right reasons’. Peter felt that there was no right reason to go onto a reality tv show but he was outvoted as Remus insisted that if anyone was ever going to find love on a reality show, it'd be James.

Each one seemed more amazing and beautiful than the last. There were some he instantly knew he’d want to talk further with and some he knew he’d be fine never speaking with again.

First was Ariana, stunningly gorgeous and tall, olive toned skin perfectly complemented by the sage green dress she wore. She had served in the Air Force for two years before returning home to become a teacher and he felt instantly excited to speak with her and totally intimidated.

Ariana was followed by Layla. She was undoubtedly stunning but kept their conversation very surface level, shaking his hand and saying how excited she was and hoped he was excited as well, and then asked for a hug and tried to feel if he was excited to see her.

Violet showed up riding on a horse which at first felt cool until the lights all spooked the horse and she almost fell off which felt like a near death experience but she played it off casually and sweetly and told him about growing up around animals on her parents farm. She seemed funny and down to earth and had a smile that made his entire chest go numb.

Ava, a cardiologist, instantly made his mouth dry up when he saw her step out of the limo, stunning and confident, navy dress with a daring leg slit that was just enough for a glimpse of her perfect dark skin to peek out through. She brought him an anatomically correct plush heart and asked him to keep it as a representation of her own heart and keep it safe. It was one of the cutest introductions so far and he instantly knew he’d want to spend some time speaking with her tonight.

It felt ridiculously unreal and just bizarre. All completely beautiful and mostly genuine seeming, with careers ranging from actual Runway Models to YouTube vloggers to doctors and financial professionals. It really just felt… awkward and stilted. He was meeting the most engaging and impressive women in the world but the whole thing just felt so stale and staged.

Until, that is, Lily. The limo pulled up and instantly all he saw was red. Long milky leg peeking out from the leg slit of her deep red sparkly dress that clung to every single beautiful curve. Her head was tilted down as she got out and he watched as her heel twisted in her dress as she got out, causing her to instantly stumble and trip as she tried to stand.

“Ah fuck it all ,fucking hell” she swore as she tumbled out, grabbing the door for balance and nearly falling on her face.

He raced over to help her up, her long red hair swinging between them. She flipped her hair back and tucked in behind her ear as he reached down to take her hand and meet her eyes and oh my god her eyes were perfect her face was perfect she was perfect and now his mouth was dry.

“Hi! I’m Lily,” she smiled up at him, righting herself but not stepping back anymore, less than a few inches between their faces. Close enough he could smell her, something warm and vanilla, and completely perfect.

“James,” he choked out, the word croaking as he cleared his throat.

“Should we um… move over there?” She gestured to the carpeted foot of the stairs where he’d stood to greet every other guest.

“Oh, yeah probably.” He led them there at one, hands clasped together.

“So um, I’m Lily Evans, I guess you could say I’m falling for you?” she cringed as she said it, visibly flushing.

“It seems like you’d be used to falling.”

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline, “are you saying I look clumsy?”

“No, erm I just mean like. You fell right then and also it seems like you uh fell from heaven?”

He could feel Sirius laughing at him already. Lily just smiled lightly, looking him up and down. “Well, I guess I’ll be going inside now. Very nice to meet you.”

“You too, Lily.” His hand instantly shot into his hair as he watched her walk away.

That was different.

[qqueenofhades]

Fivan + 2 please ❤ in your modern au or in canon, idc

2. “Stay here tonight.”

It is the night of October 25, 1917, in the Old Style, and outside the windows, the streets of Petrograd are in total chaos. The telegraph lines of the Winter Palace have been cut, even as Vladimir Ilyich Lenin's proclamation, To the Citizens of Russia, clatters across the wires to every corner of the country, proclaiming the overthrow of the Provisional Government established in February and the total victory of the Bolsheviks and their Military-Revolutionary Committee. Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky is one of the few soldiers still at his post, even though he knows that it's only a matter of time. He can hear the distant, surging roar of the revolutionaries coming closer and closer, the boom of the cruiser firing shots in the harbor, the song of angry men. They will be in here before the night is out.

His hands are slick with sweat, but he holds his gun as tightly as he can. The cabinet of the Provisional Government is closeted within, leaving a scanty force of soldiers, officers, Cossacks, and cadets to resist the imminent invasion, but it's clear they will have to flee, as Tsar Nicholas II and his family have already done. There are already whispers among the men that they should do the same, turn their coats and join the victorious rebels. Fedyor hasn't decided where he falls. He has a duty here. He can't just leave it. And yet.

The roar comes closer, something living and furious and savage, the crash of breaking windows and rattling iron, as the forty-thousand-strong Bolshevik mob surges against the gates of the Winter Palace and breaks them down. Minutes later, they're inside. There follows almost three hours of confused fighting among the glittering hallways and under the chandeliers where grand dukes and princes whirled their wives and mistresses by the bejeweled hand, in all the decadence and splendor of the imperial court. Priceless paintings are ripped to shreds, glass and woodwork smashed. Fedyor fights messily, hand to hand, whichever of them he encounters. Until he comes around a corner, runs straight into one of them and is caught clean off guard, and the next moment, backhanded viciously to the floor.

As the Bolshevik raises the butt of his rifle to smash Fedyor's face in, he discovers to his disgust that he is in fact, at the end, a coward more than he is a loyalist. "Don't," he begs. "Don't kill me. I surrender."

The Bolshevik stares at him grimly down his long nose, from a face that seems made for the express purpose of scowling. At this close range, Fedyor can tell from the insignia on his collar that he is a member of the Red Guard, the paramilitary people's organization drawn together to support the establishment of a supreme soviet socialist republic. In other words, the most dedicated and ruthless of all the Bolsheviks, and Fedyor has no reason to think this one will show him mercy. He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the end.

It doesn't come. He dares to open his eyes. The Red Guard is still glaring at him, but in frustration. Then he snaps, "What's someone like you doing here? How old are you? Twelve?"

"Nineteen." Fedyor bristles. To judge from his speech, this newcomer is from Siberia, which has probably been a fertile recruiting ground for long jeremiads about the excessive luxury of the urban elite, and Fedyor does not intend to be judged by some cowpoke. "If we're asking that question, why are you here? Hasn't anyone ever told you that it's treasonous to overthrow the government?"

To his surprise, the Bolshevik snorts, as if he didn't want to laugh, isn't used to laughing, and is slightly annoyed that Fedyor made him do it. "Get out of here," he advises tersely. "Or turn your coat and join us. I might not have killed you, but someone else will."

This is, in all respects, a fine idea, but something still makes Fedyor hesitate. "I, uh," he says awkwardly. "Thank you for, you know. Not doing that. I suppose."

"No honor in killing boys." The Red stares at him, flinty-eyed and imperturbable. This is not the moment, it really is not, to notice that he is rather handsome. "I said. Get out."

Fedyor mutters a prayer for the Almighty to forgive him, if God has not been asleep in Heaven for quite a long time now when it comes to Russia, and the devil, in the person of Grigori Rasputin, has been ruling instead. Then he dodges through the chaotic corridors, clambers through a broken window into the palace grounds, and makes his escape, with no idea what to do or where to go. All around him, the night resounds with sound and fury.

He finally finds somewhere in a side alley to dodge out of sight and await the inevitable. Just past two AM, he hears the bells ringing across the city, a sign that the revolutionaries have fully seized control of the Winter Palace, and it's done, it's over, his side has lost. Perhaps he should feel more upset about this than he does. It is abstract.

Fedyor spends the next two days adrift in the shattered sea of Petrograd, everyone completely agog and afraid and with no idea what will happen to them now. He sells his soldier's coat with its brass buttons for food and a blanket, reduced to no better than any other of the terrified refugees. He can't go back to the Winter Palace, and the revolutionaries are blocking any train he might take home to Nizhny Novgorod. He sits near the dock as the third evening is falling, shivering and hungry and scared. What now, what now, what --

"What are you doing here?"

He jumps out of his wits at the angry hiss, nearly drops his blanket in the water, and startles to his feet. It can't be, but it is, the Red Guard who spared him in the assault. They stare at each other. The Bolshevik looks like he has been on patrol, rifle on his back, and while it's not the wisest thing to say to such a terrifying-looking fellow, it comes out anyway. "Are you ever," Fedyor says, "going to ask me something besides what I'm doing somewhere? Such as my name?"

The humorless Red bastard scowls at him. Then he demands, as if he would in fact like to know the answer and is very annoyed about it, "So what is your name?"

"Fedyor." Fedyor folds his arms. "Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky. You?"

"Ivan." It comes after a long, reluctant pause. "Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. You should get off the streets."

"I don't have anywhere else to go."

Ivan Ivanovich acknowledges that with a terse nod. He debates with himself, then thrusts out a hand. "This way."

Fedyor follows him warily, not sure if he's being lured off to be shot in the head like the rest of the White Russians, but Ivan leads him to a tiny hovel in the working-class districts of Petrograd, a small room lit by a gaslamp. "You can stay here tonight," he says brusquely. "Just one night, do you hear me? After that, I can't help you."

"All right." Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Fedyor warily sits down. "And you? Where do you sleep?"

"Since you are there -- " Ivan jerks his chin at the narrow bed -- "on the floor. Do not be mistaken. I do not like you. As I said. It is only a matter of honor. Even rebels have it, you know."

Fedyor isn't sure, but he doesn't want to disagree. He lies down and folds his hands on his chest, staring at the garret ceiling, as Ivan Ivanovich settles on the frayed rug. And so -- it is strange, impossible, but no more than anything else in this new world with no rules -- side by side, imperial soldier and Red revolutionary, they sleep.

[liquorisce]

reading between the lines (High School Years, Ch 2)

pairing: eren x mikasa (shingeki no kyojin) // mild erehisu, yumihisu

rating: t

summary: (modern au) Junior year is difficult, especially for Mikasa, because it turns out Eren’s decided to test the dating scene. 

(banter, jealousy... and lots of feelings)

part 1 | read on ao3

A/N: this chapter has been a long time coming (5 years omg), and tbh I have a lovely anon to thank, who messaged me asking for a sequel to hsy, which made me actually want to put down my scrambled headcanons on paper. if you're reading this anon, i'm truly grateful for the push you gave me. 

NOTE: although i intended a sequel, this is a COMPANION fic to chapter 1, it is meant to fill up the gaps in the story that the previous chapter didnt tell you. i hope you enjoy :)

Today was not one of Eren’s favourite days, for 2 reasons. For one, the day started off with … an encounter. Two, today they would be getting the results of their final trig assessment, which Eren knows perfectly well he didn’t have a chance of passing.

The ‘encounter’ happens pretty much without preamble.

…

i.

“… Hey, it’s Eren, right?” He turns around from his conversation with Armin, to see the same guy from a couple of weeks ago, the one who was talking about Mikasa, and her pretty hair. (he wasn’t wrong)  

“Yeah?” He does his best not to let the subconscious irritation seep into his tone.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day,” the guy with the oddly horse-shaped face says, “… My name’s Jean.”

“… Nice to meet you,” he says awkwardly delivering his dishonest words.

“… So, I wanted to be straight up with you,” Jean says, cheeks oddly pink. “About Mikasa… and you. I’ve heard some rumours, and I thought it best to address it with you directly, because I really don’t want to cause any trouble.”   Clearing his throat, he says, “Are you guys… y’know, together?”

It’s in the way Jean speaks, he thinks, or the way he talks about Mikasa (or even thinks of her?) - it makes him want to ram his fist right in the middle of his ugly face. And because he was too busy clenching his fists to actually respond, Armin says with a laugh, “… Ah, don’t worry, Mikasa is totally single.”

And then proceeds to wink at Jean.

Eren can barely believe his eyes and ears. And once Jean is out of earshot he hisses, “… what the fuck, Armin?”

Armin blinks up at him innocently. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

 “… You didn’t have to encourage him,” Eren mumbles petulantly, when he admits to himself that Armin did, in fact, say nothing wrong.

 “Erm, why not?” He sighs, “Look, I know you… worry about Mikasa,” Armin keeps his tone as neutral and veiled as possible, because worried is definitely not all Eren feels for Mikasa, “… but Jean is a good guy! And if anyone deserves attention from a good guy, it’s her.”

…

 ii.

 She finds him lurking near his locker, stuffing his crumpled papers in, probably wishing away their existence.

“That bad, huh?” She asks, hiding away her grin at his predictable reaction. Eren has always been predisposed too sulking - whether he was a 7-year-old who wasn’t the fastest on the field or 16-something and having just received his trigonometry results.

“… You look like you did just fine,” he mutters, not having to see the A+ on her paper to know that Mikasa had no problem acing the trig test (or any other test).

“You could just ask me for help, Eren. I could help you out for the retakes,” she offers softly, not for the first time.

He sighs. When he glances at her, dark eyes offering earnestly, he knows she means it without any pride or arrogance, but he isn’t able to suppress the prick of his own ego that has him mumbling, “… the mandatory remedial lessons should do just fine.”

…

iii.

When he shows up for class, he sees only a couple of others unfamiliar faces, so he curses under his breath at his own ineptitude towards mathematics for getting him in this situation and takes a spot at the back of the class.

The Support teacher - Erd, he calls himself, apparently too young to be addressed ‘Mr.’ or any of that - seems just as tired as the rest of them, sighing at the lack of answers, obviously frustrated at the complete lack of interest or gratitude of the teenagers in front of him.

So, 20 minutes into the 1-hour lesson, when the short blonde walks in, out-of-breath and apologetic, the sarcasm in his tone is biting. “You’ve already missed 1/3rd of this class, you might as well have stayed out entirely and practiced your cheer routines.”

Eren watches sympathetically at the visible cringe on Krista’s face and offers her an empathetic smile as she takes the seat next to him.

Later when they’ve been informed that the retake is just an assignment filled with proofs and average difficulty problems that they can do in pairs, he looks at Krista, the only known person in the room.

They weren’t that close, but they had quite a few mutual friends what with him playing basketball and her being part of the cheer team. So, when she says, “… see you at the library tomorrow evening?” with a pretty smile across her pretty features, he grins gratefully.

..

She doesn’t struggle with trig even half as much as he does. In fact, she seemed to be happy to do most of the work herself and explain her solutions - if he actually had the interest to understand them.

“I don’t understand,” he admits after she solves the 5th problem in a row effortlessly, “you seem to have everything down already. How come you didn’t pass the test?”

Her eyes skittered nervously away from him. “I was… sick,” she mutters. “I couldn’t really focus.”

He eyes her closely, observing the sudden change in her countenance. Usually Krista was all easy smiles, twinkle in her blue eyes. Now, she looks uneasy, unwell almost. Deciding it wasn’t his place to pry, “… Well, I guess I turned out to be the lucky one in all this,” he grins, “… I get to hang out with you and have you do my assignment.”

She rolls her eyes. To be honest, she’d enjoyed the past couple of evenings with him. Eren was easy to talk to, despite being somewhat of an airhead and being completely incapable of anything remotely math related. But regardless, he made her laugh and just about forget what happened the morning before she showed up for this test, with fresh tears choking her throat, and purpling bruises on her thighs.

“I guess you owe me then,” she quips back, smugly.

“… I definitely do,” he says smoothly, green eyes watching her in a way that makes her feel warm. “How can I make it up to you?”

Flustered, because she hadn’t expected his easy response, she mumbles, “… Dinner?” And with red cheeks hidden by her blonde bangs, she whispers, “I like pizza.”

…

iv.

She finds him at the end of the day, on one of the wooden tables outside the basketball court, chin resting in his hands, eyes glued to his laptop.

“… Hey,” she breathes, giggling when startled green eyes flash up to her, body jerking in surprise.

“Damn, you got me,” he grins, pushing his laptop away and leaning up for a brief kiss. She’s happy to return it, and she lets her fingers wind into his hair, enjoying it for a moment longer.

“Mmm,” she mumbles, “I saw you closing that browser window,” she teases, wrestling control of his laptop, “watcha lookin’ at?”

When she manages to open his browser history – much to Eren’s protest – her eyes widen. “Women’s dresses, spring collection??” She waggles her eyebrows at him.

“… It’s not for me,” he grumbles, deciding to make it painstakingly clear before Krista enthusiastically begins to tell him what dress would suit him the most – he knows his girlfriend, crossdressing would be absolutely acceptable, if not encouraged – and he watches her eyes feign disappointment.

“… Boring,” she sighs, rolling her pretty blue eyes, “I don’t see how you’re not curious about how you look in a dress,” – she gasps, hand flying over her mouth, “Wait… was that… a surprise… for me?”

“… Um,” Eren starts, intelligently, because the situation that was already awkward in his opinion, just became even more so. “Well,” he gulps, taking in the sparkle in her eyes, knowing fully well just how much she likes surprises, feeling guilty even thought he needn’t be, “itsformikasa.”

He hangs his head in apparent apology, but more so because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment flit across her features.

“… Oh.”

He chances a glance at her, and there’s no particular emotion per se, and it worries him, because she gets this faraway look in her eye sometimes, and he can’t really tell what’s going on, and they’ve only been together a few months and he’s not an expert in reading her silences –

“I see, is it for her birthday or something?” Her tone is measured, and she’s looking pointedly at the screen.

“Um… yeah.” Eren sighs, wondering what the hell was up with his own reaction. He had nothing to feel guilty about – where did that even come from anyway? – Mikasa’s his… family (or something). Shopping for her was normal. He did it every year. This isn’t something he needed to hide.

“Yeah, it’s next month,” he says, giving her a smile. There was no need for this to be awkward if he didn’t make it so. Besides, it wasn’t like he was buying her lingerie or something! (he brushed this thought aside faster than the red blush crept up his neck)

“Do you think, you could help me with it?” He blurts this out, partially in an attempt to distract the weird atmosphere, and also partially because he could really use the help.

Krista blinks. “Err, yeah. Sure.” She pulls up Mikasa’s profile on Instagram. “Let’s see,” she murmurs… Turtlenecks… Jeans… a ridiculously modest swimsuit that she wore to a pool party two years ago. The sexiest outfit on her entire profile was probably her in her tennis shorts and that had more to do with Mikasa’s undeniably ripped body than anything else.

She looks up at Eren, who’s still looking at her tentatively, green eyes unsure.

This whole thing was silly anyway, she thinks, offering him a genuine smile. He and Mikasa were close (and they lived together, which she did her best not to think about), but this wasn’t a surprise so it’s about time that it came up in some way in their relationship. In any case, she hadn’t felt any hostility from the raven-haired beauty and Eren was usually quite forthcoming about everything, so she didn’t really have anything to worry about.

“So, um, does she have a favourite colour or something?” She’s eager to kill the awkward mood and is grateful to see his shoulders visibly relax as he ponders.

“… Red, I think. Maybe, like, a darker shade. Sort of… maroon, y’know?” He thinks of the scarf he gave Mikasa when they were younger. It was a ratty, yet fluffy maroon thing which she was absolutely terrible at tying, but she wears it everywhere during the winter, even though his father had a bought her a better one at some point.

They peruse their options for a bit, and Krista picks out a deep red number, a shimmery satin one, with slinky straps and a slit that travels up an already high hemline. It wasn’t really a spring dress but more of a cocktail night outfit, and Eren is weirdly embarrassed thinking of Mikasa in it.

He eyes the screen incredulously. “… Somehow, I just can’t picture Mikasa wearing something like that.” He opens up another link, to a denim overall dress, “… now this, she would wear.”

“And that,” Krista retorts, “is why she’s still single. She has an amazing body; she should flaunt it.”

“… What would she wear it to?” Eren asks, unconvinced. (Also, what was wrong with Mikasa being single?) “… Student council meetings? Debate competitions?! I just,” –

“Parties, Eren,” she says, exasperated, “… it’s high school!”

“You know she doesn’t” –

“Drag her to some! C’mon, we’re going to be seniors soon. She’ll thank you for it!”

…

v.

Six hours later, she’s closing up her shift at her part-time job. It’s a job she’d rather keep hidden – from her friends at school and the law – because she isn’t sure what the age policy was in these kinds of establishments. It worked out because it was close enough to home, and between her and the bartender, the tips compensated the poor wages. Plus, the bartender – a slightly older girl named Ymir with a pretty fringe and a sharp tongue – was genuinely fan to hang out with. And she was surprisingly protective of the small blonde, particularly with the rougher customers, whom Ymir scared off quite effectively with her glares.

“So,” she says, as she scrubs the counter clean, “… I helped my boyfriend buy a dress today.”  

She doesn’t turn back to see her, but she can hear Ymir’s raised eyebrows as she says, cheekily, “… I didn’t realize you guys were into that stuff.”

Snorting, she replies, “Well that would be interesting. But no, it was for his, um, friend. Or something.” Or something, because sometimes Eren refers to Mikasa as his best friend, sometimes his family, and sometimes it just felt like… something else, basically.

She turns around to look at Ymir, who says nothing, continuing to rinse the rest of the glasses. “Her name’s Mikasa,” she continues, her voice getting oddly unsure, “They’ve known each other forever. They even… live together.”

“… What,” Ymir stares at her in disbelief.

“It’s not like that,” Krista finds herself sounding defensive, “Eren’s dad is her guardian… or something. Has been for some years. So, it’s not like they moved in together…”

She elects to skip the part where Eren’s dad is a doctor with Doctors without Borders and is barely home for more than a couple of months a year. She didn’t like the look Ymir was giving her anyway.

“So… they’re like brother-sister or what?”

“No,” she says, realizing that the word came out more vehement than she intended. But she knows that was definitely not the way Eren saw their relationship.

“… Krista,” Ymir starts, and the blonde can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s going to get all protective on her, “… I know you’re in high school, and… you’re dating – as you should – but you don’t have to waste your time on shady boys.”

At this she laughs because, “Eren’s not shady, he’s a nice guy,” –

“… You could get anyone you want; I mean look at you, you’re beautiful.”

The defense that was bubbling up in her throat suddenly stilled, because there’s something about the way Ymir just said that – called her beautiful – earnestly, quietly, and it made her feel funny. It took her breath away for a very brief second and replaced it with a warm flush that creeps up her neck.

It’s strange, she’s heard it before from so many boys with obvious motivations; Eren’s always calling her pretty, and complimenting her eyes or whatever… But when Ymir said it, and looked at her like that, honey brown eyes, deep with unnamed emotion, all she could do was avert her eyes.

…

vi.

It’s 7pm and the library’s home only to the nerds by now. The librarian is lax (and underpaid) enough to ignore the low buzz of two over-enthusiastic AP chemistry students that grates on Mikasa’s ears.

Ordinarily she’d just plug her earphones in and ignore the world to focus on the assignment at hand. But today she accepts anything to distract her from the scene earlier at home. And even though Armin’s sitting right next to her, supposedly doing his own thing, she doesn’t miss the worried glances he sends her every now and then, which she really doesn’t want to address.

Her feelings for Eren were a well-known secret by now, just as well-known as the fact that he clearly didn’t return those feelings, so she wasn’t particularly in the mood for Armin’s indulgent pity… regardless of how well-intentioned it was.

So, when its 8pm and the librarian is shooing them out, and she bumps into Jean, she’s grateful for the few extra minutes of conversation surrounding absolutely nothing important.

When they continue to the parking lot, their conversation having progressed from awkward conversation starters to an animated discussion on Jean’s tennis form, Armin’s well and truly realized that he has no place here.

After Armin’s said his goodbyes and Mikasa recognizes that she doesn’t mind staying away from home and possibly Eren and Krista in the middle of their 5th round, she asks Jean, “… so do you like Chinese food?”

…

When she walks in a little after 10 pm, cheeks cold from the night air, there’s a small grin on her cheeks, because she’s made a new friend today, whose company she genuinely enjoyed.

But when she enters the living room to see Eren fast asleep on the couch, she finds herself staring in the face of the reality she’d tried so hard to escape. It’s difficult to ignore the ruffled quality of his brown hair, mussed up in a way that could only have been achieved by someone (a very blonde, very beautiful someone) raking their hands through it.

She can’t help the wave of irritation that sweeps through her - so she doesn’t bother to soften her footsteps as she walks up the wooden stairs.

Minutes later, she hears his sleepy voice at her door. “Hey,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, “you were out pretty late, so I left you some dinner. We made pasta, it’s not as good as yours but,” -

“… I ate already,” she says, tone clipped.

“Oh.” He’s quiet, just watching her put her things away, and there’s irrational tears pricking at her eyes, anger, and frustration that she knows she doesn’t have the right to, so she doesn’t turn to acknowledge him. “… Mikasa, are you…,” he clears his throat, “… is something wrong?”

When she says nothing, he sighs, turning, “… Well, if you want to talk about it, you know I’m always here,” -

“… Could you please go over to Krista’s house next time?”

She colours, surprised at herself for her outburst of honesty. But her blush pales in comparison to Eren’s as he processes what she’s saying. “… This is my house,” he sputters, “… I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to want to bring my girlfriend over.”

“Well, it’s not just ‘bringing her over’, is it?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “… What I do with Krista, in my personal space, is definitely not your business, Mikasa.”

“It is when I can hear it, Eren,” she retorts, as he shuts the door forcefully behind him.

…

vii.

It’s been two weeks since that… confrontation, and Mikasa’s barely spoken to him since.

She leaves before he does, makes sure dinner’s left out on the stove for him, whether he needs it or not, and locks her door when she’s done. And although he’s found himself staring awkwardly at that shut door multiple times, he’s never had the courage to actually knock.

He simply cannot comprehend this situation because despite the numerous arguments they’ve had in the past - it was always him, whining about something like a petty child and sulking till he got his way - she’d never truly been mad at him. And she’d never, ever, gone days without talking to him. And as he stares at the locker next to his (it was Mikasa’s) with a horrible ache in his chest, he is well and truly sure that he loathes this situation.

So, when small hands reach around his waist, enveloping him in a tight embrace, his subconscious reaction is to jerk back in annoyance. “I didn’t realise it was you,” he murmurs apologetically, rubbing her hands softly.

“… Who else would it be?” Krista asks, somewhat thrown off by this mood that had been festering for days now.

“You ask some very valid questions there, babe,” he mutters, a distracted half-smile on his face.

Taking a deep breath (determined to shake him out of his pensive aura), she whispers, “… You know, I don’t have work today.” She leans against him, reaching up to murmur in his ear, “we could hang out at yours for a while, if you want?”

She makes it clear what she means by “hanging out” by the way she presses up against him, and even though he’s responded with fervent enthusiasm to a similar invitation in the past, today he just averts his gaze, awkwardly.

Swallowing the rejection with a graceful exterior, she puts an arm’s length of distance between them. “… What’s going on, Eren? Your head’s been somewhere else all week.”

And before he starts to stay that it’s nothing, just that he has some stuff going on, she says, “… does this have something to do with Mikasa?”

His green gaze jerks up at her, startled with unfortunate honesty. “… I haven’t seen you talk to her all week.”

“…I,” he starts, but his throat closes up, for some reason, unsure whether he should really tell her what happened. He doesn’t want to put her in the middle of something that was clearly between him and Mikasa.

But with every passing second, the guilty look on his face only begins to feed the fears that she had successfully kept dormant all this while. “… Did something happen between the two of you?”

And when he looks into her eyes, bright blues seeping insecurity, he says, hurriedly, “… wait, I hope you aren’t thinking that we,” - he inhales sharply, wondering how he manages so successfully to upset the women in his life - “God, no. We had a misunderstanding, that’s all. She said something, I was pretty rude to her, and I shouldn’t have been.”

“And,” he murmurs, admitting it to himself, finally, “I’ve just taken too long to apologize.”

…

She’s barely finished washing the vegetables for dinner, when she hears the thud of the front door closing loudly.

(She remembers Carla reprimanding him every time, for not being gentler)

Mikasa has managed to avoid Eren successfully these past days, because she knows his schedule, knows that despite his complete lack of organization, he’s fairly predictable. And with his recent interest in a particular cheerleader, he almost invariably never comes home before 8.30 PM. So, when she hears him enter their kitchen at little over 7, she isn’t prepared.

She isn’t prepared because she’s been quite cowardly, saying things that she had no business saying, and then being unable to own up to it, unable to apologize to him. Because she knew that when she looks at him, she’ll feel the way she feels right now - taking in the sight of him, drizzle droplets fresh in his brown hair, as he runs a hand through it, his mouth twisting into an awkward grin. She knew she’d realize that her feelings for Eren were never really much of a choice, they just were.  

“… I brought your favourite dumplings from Li’s,” he announces. “And I brought an extra serving of the spicy soy sauce so we don’t have to fight over who gets the last bit.”

…

He’s grateful for the small smile that forms on her face when she accepts the dumplings (the peace treaty as he calls it in his head), and for the small banter that she indulges him in as they eat.

After they’re stuffed with dumplings and inconsequential conversation, he clears his throat, because he remembers he came home early tonight with a certain conviction.

But as she does with most things, she beats him to it. “… Eren, about the other day,” she looks at him earnestly, “… I had no right to demand that of you. I’m sorry.”

And when he’s still quiet, she mumbles quickly, “I don’t know what got into me that day, honestly, I,” -

“Don’t apologise, Mikasa,” he says, a strange disquiet taking over him as he replays her words, “… the last thing I want, is to make you feel uncomfortable.” Or to make you feel like you can’t demand what you want from me.

This is the part that settles into him slowly, that somehow, the one person in his life that he’s always felt he could ask anything of, could demand anything of, and actually receive it without fail… she didn’t feel that she could count on the same from him. And it twisted painfully inside of him.

“I appreciate that, Eren. But honestly, I’ll get used to it… so don’t worry.” She smiles, in that genuine way of hers, small lips, curving shyly, “… and who knows, maybe someday I’ll want to ‘bring someone over’ too.”

She laughs as she does the air quotes and even though he manages a small grin in response, all he can say, without really meaning it, is –

“Yeah… Of course, yeah.”

…

 viii.

 She takes her frustration out on the cash register. “… Damn thing doesn’t open when I need it to, and doesn’t close when I want it to,” she mutters under her breath.

 “You just need to show it some love,” Ymir says, amused, promptly closing the problematic register without any difficulty. “… Go sit, I’ll close up here.”

 She does as she’s told, pouting slightly, but she’s grateful for the older girl’s help and understanding. “So… want a beer before I close the tap?” Ymir asks with a wink.

 “You need to stop offering underage girls alcohol,” Krista whispers, scanning the room hastily.

 The brunette rolls her eyes. “You need to stop with the innocent act every time. You’re a hot cheerleader for god’s sakes, everyone knows what goes on at your high school parties,”  -

 “Ok ok,” she acquiesces, suppressing the blush at Ymir’s offhanded compliment and deciding that that there was no point in panicking every time they did this, “… but only if you join me.”

 “Cheers,” Ymir says, offering her glass to Krista’s and taking a generous gulp. “So, tell me. Boy trouble, again?”

 Krista nurses her drink slowly before taking a sip.

 To Krista, Eren was a breath of fresh air. He didn’t hover, he didn’t foam at the mouth every time she spoke to another guy, didn’t hound her if she didn’t pick up his phone call.

 Does he even care? Ymir had asked her once scathingly, but she had disregarded it, grateful for the freedom she felt in his embrace. Freedom from toxic attachment, from past trauma or unresolved baggage like the one she was destined to carry. When she was around him, she had felt different. Lighter almost, as if this persona that she had created for herself could actually have a shot at happiness after all.

 But lately she’d begun to wonder if she’d just been fooling herself… again. She’d begun to question if she had just convinced herself to see the promise of something that was never there.

 “… I thought this guy was one of the good ones,” Ymir says, watching Krista closely.

 “He is…” she sighs, “He is one of the good ones. It’s just…” she trails off, unsure if she should give voice to her thoughts. “Ah fuck it, I’m just feeling a little insecure, it’ll be fine…”

 “… Is this about that sexy flatmate of his?”

 She winces, feeling exposed. It often felt that way with Ymir. Like there was no point to any of the barriers she had worked so hard in constructing.

 “She is attractive,” Krista admits, begrudgingly. “… I’m only surprised Eren hasn’t noticed that.”  

 “… But that’s what you’re worried about, aren’t you? That he has noticed that of late?” Ymir narrows her eyes at Krista. “You should just ask him about it!”

 “I did,” she states defensively, “… and he said there was nothing,” -

 “… Oh, sure there’s nothing. I can’t believe he thinks he can lie to you and get away with it,” -

 “Ymir, I trust him, he’s my boyfriend,” -

 “But that’s the problem with you. You just trust everyone, and you let them walk all over you. You did this with Reiner and now with,” -

 “Ok,” she whispers, “Stop it, Ymir.”

 “… Krista, you need to trust your gut about this sort of thing. If your gut is telling you that he’s a lying asshole, then you should just dump his ass and,” -

 “… See this is why I didn’t want to tell you about this,” she cries, her voice rising In frustration. Because this is how it’s always been with Ymir, no one she dates is ever good enough, no decision she makes is ever smart enough.

 “You’re always shitting on my boyfriends. And I know you were justified about the last one, but,” her voice cracks just a little bit, because at the end of it all, she just feels weak, “… it feels like you’re just taking a massive crap on me as well.”

 “I didn’t mean,” Ymir starts apologetically, brown eyes remorseful, “… look, that wasn’t my intention.”

 She takes her hand, slowly, lets her long fingers intertwine with Krista’s smaller, dainty ones.  The crumpled expression on Krista’s features has her regretting ever opening her big mouth. But she was tired of seeing one person after another, enter her Krista’s life, and undo the progress she was trying so desperately to make.

“… The truth is,” she takes a deep breath, ready to unleash a truth that’s been stifled for so long, she can’t even remember when it first sprouted, “I think you’re pretty fucking amazing. And I see you wasting all your time and your feelings on these stupid boys who don’t deserve you.” The words come out quickly, rushed almost. A sharp contrast to how long they’ve festered in Ymir’s chest, growing and growing until these feelings knew no reason.

 Ymir doesn’t look at her, she keeps her gaze focused on Krista’s hand, afraid of what might happen if Krista understands the depth of feeling behind her words. But more important than her feelings, there were some things she wanted Krista to see clearly.

 “Did you tell him about your father, Krista? What he does to you when his wife isn’t looking?”

 Krista tugs on her hand, a wave of unbridled panic spreading at the mention of her father. “I trusted you with that information, Ymir, you promised you’d never bring it up,” -

 “… Did you tell him your real name?”

 She can’t answer this question, even though she knows the answer, knows it’s an emphatic ‘no’ - but she cannot answer because there’s an overwhelming lump in her throat, and it’s taking everything from her to barely keep it together.

 “… Let go of me, Ymir,” she pleads, and that’s when Ymir loosens her grip.

 “… You trusted me to keep quiet about your secrets - and I’m fine with that. I’m fine with doing anything you ask of me,” her teeth grit together, because she doesn’t know, Krista doesn’t know just how much she would do.  

 “You asked me not to do anything about the fact that your father is hurting you, and it even though it kills me, I listened to you. But now I see you hurting yourself in this farcical relationship with fabricated feelings for some boy who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, and I don’t know if I can be quiet about that anymore.”

 And because it’s grown too large, too much to keep inside of her anymore, she whispers, “I love you, Historia. And if you want me to let go of you, I will. But,” she brushes her lips gently against Krista’s cheek, “… You can trust me with your secrets, and your heart, if you’d let me, because I could take care of you.” She feels a warm tear roll down Krista’s cheek and her heart clenches, “… I could make you happy.”

 …

ix. 

 “… I really appreciate you making time for this,” she murmurs, as she watches him lay the white lilies at her parent’s grave.

 He always remembers, without her prompting, because the first time he’d come with her, she’d spent hours crying at their gravestone, telling him tear-filled anecdotes of the dishes her Mama cooked, the bedtime stories her Papa told, the flowers that they used to grow in their garden together (white lilies).

 “C’mon Mikasa,” he rolls his eyes at her, “… we do this every year. Why wouldn’t I make time for this?” And why the hell are you thanking me?

 She can’t really explain it to him, the possibly childish notion that she thought he might be too busy with his girlfriend to remember the death anniversary of her parents. She regrets doubting him, regrets that of late she’s been so clouded by petty jealousy, that she hasn’t truly appreciated how little he’s changed around her.

 “It’s ridiculous,” she confesses, softly, “… you’ve given me everything. A home… A family.” She smiles at him, somewhat blurry. “But I can’t help it, every year on this day, my mind always goes back to that… moment. I lost them… in what felt like the blink of an eye.”

 He tenses, as he always does when he sees her upset, or shedding a tear. There is a fundamental part of him that deeply despises the sadness on her features; it makes him feel helpless. So, he does the only thing he can - he wraps an arm around her, tucking her face into his shoulder as she snuggles into him.

 “I miss them every day. But you saved me, Eren,” she whispers, dark eyes looking up at him with a gratefulness that he has never known how to accept, and never felt worthy of. “… and now I have you.”

 Her voice trails off, almost wistful. “… I guess the world really can be cruel but beautiful at the same time.”

 …

 x.

 When he stops to think about it, he supposes it really is ridiculous it took them so long to get here. And by here he means - Mikasa wrapped securely in his arms, in his lap, on their couch, taking advantage of the privacy they’ve had all along.

 He feels her tongue flick against his - it makes him shiver - and he can do little more than just wrap himself around her tighter, and sigh into her kiss. Her fingers make their way into his hair, cradling his head, pressing sweet kisses on the side of his mouth, on his jaw, and on the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

 And because Mikasa’s always been a quick study (she’s learnt what he likes, what he’s weak for), he stills her exploration (very reluctantly) before she goes too far.

 “Are you okay…?” He whispers, rubbing a thumb along the dried tear stains on her cheek – a reminder of her tears, of knowing the pain that he’d caused her, bubbled quietly within him, having been quelled temporarily by the glorious feeling of having her in his arms.

 She laughs, shaking her head, “… I love you. I can’t believe I finally get to say it.” She rests her forehead against his, a happy smile forming on her lips.

 “… You could have said it ages ago; you know. No one asked you to keep it inside for this long.” Even though he teases her with his words, his lips drift back to hers, brushing softly, unable to stay away for too long.

 “… Well, you never know, I actually might have said it. If it wasn’t for, you know, you having a girlfriend.” He senses the eye roll, the teasing lilt of her voice, but he can’t help but regret the time he wasted. Because even though Krista was a dear friend, and there were no ill intentions there, now that he is here, chest to chest with the girl he loves, he only wishes he’d been here sooner.

 “You’re going to use that against me forever, aren’t you?”

 She grins in response. “… I have a question though.”

 “Shoot,” he murmurs, nibbling against her lower lip.

 “… Why’d you guys break up?”

 He groans, kissing her jaw testily. “… Do you really want to go into that right now?”

 She hesitates, torn between potentially ruining the mood and needing to know what happened. God knows, she had spent countless nights losing sleep over the details anyway. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay, I guess…”

 “It’s fine,” he says quickly, realising that if he wanted to set a precedent where she could ask him anything, then it‘s best he starts now, “… She’s in love with someone else. A girl, actually.”

 Her eyes widen, not having expected that turn of events. “… Please tell me you didn’t ask for a threesome.”

 “What the fuck, Mikasa, of course not!” He pulls back, offended.

 “Good,” she murmurs cheekily, “I’ve raised you well.”

 “Hmm,” he hums, “Speaking of ‘raising me’, you should probably stop saying stuff like that. Do you know that Connie asked if you were like a ’sister’ to me?”

 He grins, seeing the shocked expression on her face. That’s exactly how he had felt when he was posed that question, with a little mortification added to the mix. “… Is that really how everyone sees our… relationship?”

 His fingers drift to hers, where they rest on his chest. “We’ve been living together for a while now,” he caresses her knuckles absentmindedly, “Kids our age… they don’t really understand it, I guess. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

 “My turn: I have a question for you,” he murmurs. This is a question he’s long considered, stopped only by his embarrassment, fielding it from others only to put the vaguest labels on it.

 “… What am I to you, Mikasa?”

 The question throws her, because even though she’s told him candidly how she feels, that she loves him, she always has, he is asking her, right now, to define their relationship.

 The very notion, the expression that flits on her tongue, bubbles up in her heart with an exciting warmth, even though she hopes this is just temporary, that it will grow, that Eren is so many things and will be so many things to her that she cannot possibly define right now - “… My boyfriend, of course.”

- fin - 

A/N:  i've been really nervous to post em, because its just been so long, and the writer that wrote chap 1 is different from the one that wrote chap 2, and honestly i dont even know if there are inconsistencies. so my request to you, dear reader, is to please let me know if i have made any fuck ups in writing this - or if you have any ideas for pacing, or storytelling that could possibly help me improve.

also there will be a chapter 3 focusing on eremika’s sexual exploration~

[vagrantblvrd]

Okay, so I can’t stop thinking about the AU where Jaskier somehow ends up working in a Geek Squad-esque department and has to deal with these witchers who bring in mangled/otherwise destroyed phones and the whatnot AU?

Like, the witchers aren’t completely technologically impaired right because the thing about living through who knows how many innovations and whatnot over the years but they really don’t make stuff the way they used to.

(Jaskier maybe sit through a semi-rant on the subject a time or two while processing whatnot for the witchers who have brought him yet another mangled bit of tech orth a fair bit of money and did he know they used to make them of sturdier stuff???)

Anyway.

Geralt is Geralt, all hm’s and hm’s and usually :( although there have been moments of >:( and an especially rare :| which is the closest to the teeny tiny smile Jaskier gets on a good day or when he says something that amuses Geralt enough to visibly show it. (An actual :) is something to be treasured for days afterward and gets Jaskier gentle ribbing from his co-workers because his relationship with the witchers and Geralt in particular is high entertainment for them, but yes.)

Lambert is a delightful asshole who came in all >:(((((((((( after Geralt mentioned there was a new face in the Geek Squad-esque group, one who got him a new phone in spite of the most recently mangled one being out of warranty and suchlike. Didn’t even ask why it smelled of swamp water and may or may not have had bits of swamp...gunk in its insides and anyway.

Jaskier clearly made an impression on Geralt and he’s like but why, though, and comes in intending to be That Customer - and indeed is through the entire ordeal.

Makes Jaskier go over the fine print in the warranty and whatnot when he brings in some horribly mangled bit of shiny tech - a tablet or some such that clearly cannot be saved and is just barely under warranty. A day later and he’d be out of luck, right?

And while it’s covered by the warranty it’s also just old enough the store doesn’t carry it anymore - been discontinued or whatever - which should be fine, right? Jaskier can set Lambert up with the newest model or other equivalent and everything should be fine, but no, no.

Lambert gets this glint in his eye and is like, oh, I’m not going to make things that easy for you, buddy, and goes off on this...whatever about how he liked the version he had - doesn’t want or need the added features on the new one even though they actually are pretty nice, just because he can.

And of course he came in on one of the days Jaskier’s usual supervisor is off and the one who’s had it out for Jaskier since day one is working. Positive Jaskier has done nothing to deserve being moved from overnight stocker to Geek Squad-esque team member and looking for the smallest reason to get him fired. (Or at least kicked back to overnight stocker and then fired for some other reason no one can call them on.)

This supervisor who is hovering, just waiting for Jaskier’s Retail Voice and whatnot to slip so they can pounce and Lambert might not know the details about it all, but it’s pretty damn obvious the supervisor doesn’t like Jaskier.

So he’s like, “Okay, but...” whenever Jaskier brings up a new avenue of convincing the asshole to just say he’ll take the new tablet and gtfo already, pls you asshole, pleasant smile on his face and gritting his teeth the whole time.

Just as the supervisor has had enough of watching Jaskier dealing with this stubborn customer and clearly failing to meet their needs, Lambert is like “Well, I really did like my old tablet, but I suppose this one you’ve been trying to sell me on for nearly half an hour will be adequate, probably,” like Jaskier’s got him at gunpoint or something.

Jaskier is like oh, excellent, sir, what a wonderful choice sir, you are totally my favorite customer sir!!!! :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD while also being like >:(((((((((((((((((( to Lamert’s clear amusement and whatnot.

After the deal is done and the bastard’s on his way out, Jaskier is like !!! when he sees Lambert stop in front of the assole!supervisor sure he’s going to complain about Jaskier. To his surprise though, Lambert’s just, all “Oh, he was so helpful! Answered all my questions!” and so on and both Jaskier and the asshole!supervisor are taken aback because that was not what they were expecting?

And then Lambert’s like “I only want to deal with him when I come in here,” to which Jaskier is ah, okay because he gets Lambert’s game now, and the supervisor is just okay, well, I have no control over that unless you come in on days he’s working, but you can bet I’mm make sure it happens if you do, haha.

Which more or less seals Jaskier’s fate on that angle, and absolutely what Lambert intended, and anyway, asshole.

Later on, after they’ve had enough such encounters that Lambert isn’t suspicious of this oddly helpful person at the store where they buy most of their consumer electronics he’s like, >:DDDDDDDDDDDDDD when he comes in nd Jaskier’s like >:(((((((((((((((((((( if you really wanted to help me out here with the asshole!supervisor you’d buy an extended warranty or whatever and Lambert rolls his eyes and scoffs because those are scams and he’s not an idiot, and anyway, he knows Jaskier doesn’ really want to shank him out back behind the store with a rusty knife the way he threatened one time because Lambert is a delight, okay, an utter delight.

Jaskier side-eyes him so hard for that and is like, oh????? So then Lambert won’t mind meeting him out back on his break? Asking for a friend, you know, no other reason. Strangely, Lambert does not.

(Mostly because of that time Geralt fondly told the others about Jaskier shanking a monster out back by the store’s loading dock when Geralt was a little bit bleeding out and in a bad spot and anyway, yeah, no, thanks, Lambert wasn’t born yesterday okay.)

But you know who is an actual delight that Jaskier loves to see come into the store?

Aside from Geralt???

Eskel.

The man is sweet and polite and holds actual conversations (not a slight against Geralt by any means, it’s just. Sometimes it’s nice to talk to someone at work who isn’t a coworker or a horrible customer and so on) and otherwise doesn’t give Jaskier headaches.

(Though there was the one night after closing and rare time when the store would be clsoed the next day for a holiday or whatever so no night crew coming in. Jaskier was trying to get his car to start when Eskel showed up all bloody and half-dead and Jaskier was closest. Also his phone was broken and no way to contact Geralt or anyone else and how was Jaskier at first aid, asking for a friend and all.)

Anyway.

Jaskier’s favorite encounter with Eskel at work is when he calls Jaskier asking if he can help with a tech issue. Mangled laptop and files he wants to get off the harddrive you know, but ~sensitive file that have to do with the witchers and their work.

They all pretend Jaskier knows absolutely nothing about any of it, even though he’s patched all of them up at some point or they’ve saved his life from some monster or other and there really shouldn’t be any pretense about it all?

AND YET.

It’s one of those days where work is slow and the other Geek Squad-esque people are out on house calls and won’t be back for a few hours or called out sick or whatever.

And this, okay, this is something Jaskier convinced one of them to teach him or he taught himself through Google and YouTube and anyway, he can do the file transfer magic stuff for Eskel, no problem.

Tells him as such and to come by before anyone gets back from the calls so he can handle it himself without anyone looking on and all, so he does, right?

Jaskier lets Eskel in the back room with him while he works, and they have a nice little chat and catch up on what’s new in their lives and all that.

Jaskier is like oh, ew, gross because some of the files he salvages for Eskel are photo documentations of past hunts - for science!!1! - but also ooh, what was that hunt like???

(Accidentally clicks on some or some other reason for him seeing what the files are or just file names and anyway, shhhh, let me have this.)

Because curiosity and also songs and Geralt enjoys being difficult on purpose and Jaskier’s never sure how much Lambert tells him is complete bullshit, and anyway. Eskel’s the nice one. Usually.

Also, though, also.

There are so many photos of Geralt and Lambert, Vesemir and Ciri and certain sorceresses and suchlike, and it’s adorable and sweet and wholly expected?

BUT.

To Jaskier’s forever joy and delight there are at least two entire album’s worth of freaking goat pictures.

(Well, okay, goat and horse and whatever other animals these withcers have in their lives and so on.)

It’s adorable as hell and Jaskier makes these little squeaky noises of pure awww at the sight of them, okay, because Lil Bleater and whatever little terrors Eskel has known and clearly adores.

He’s like staring straight ahead and all everything’s fine and normal and whatnot while Jaskier is like omg and she’s so cute and omg Eskel, omg.)

Withcers may not be able to blush or whatever, but you can sure as hell bet he would have been blushing up a damned storm if he could and Jaskier also knows that and is just.

Charmed, okay, he is utterly charmed by this big soft dork and swears he won’t tell anyone even though the people who matter obviously know as well, and anyway, anyway, he gets this soft little smile for it and his heart is like oh, oh no, because Jaskier’s kind of gone on these idiot witchers okay.

(After the discovery of the goat pictures Eskel starts sending new ones to Jaskier who always gets that look people get when presented with adorable pictures of animals and this warm squishy feeling because oh, oh no, indeed and anyway, yes, because idk what pairings/ships i even want this to be anymore but just soft feelings all over the place even with Lambert, the bastard. XD)

[sammystep]

No One Lives Forever- CH10

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

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Between the road noise and the insulation of the cooler it was easy to ignore the shouting from the gremlin. Kakyoin had taken shotgun this time, the rest of you piled in the back rows and passing around bandages and ointments as Polnareff drove. After cleaning away the blood you could see none of you had sustains injuries worse than some deep scratches. With the accelerated healing you all had they would be fine by morning, but you patched each other up with gauze and bandages just in case. It felt nice, satisfying even, to take care of the others and let them take care of you in return.

You lose track of time for a bit, content to sit quietly in the middle row and rest. You hear someone start snoring from behind you and turn around to see Joseph has nodded off, Avdol also has his eyes closed but looks more like he’s meditating than sleeping. Jotaro must have turned at the same time, you caught his eyes as he turns forward again as well, a small smile on his face. You smile at him and hold out your hand to him over the middle seat. His gaze flicks back again before he faces forward completely and covertly takes your hand.

You didn’t realize how tense you still were until he took your hand and you felt the muscles of your back and shoulders melt. A tingling feeling of relief, you were safe, your pack was safe, your mate…

You tense slightly again and grip Jotaro’s hand, where had that feeling come from? You are bewildered for a moment, you barely register Jotaro squeezing your hand back, his emotions hidden by his resting serious face. You relax into your seat again, coming to at least basic terms with what your instincts have been screaming at you for a while now. Yes, it was a terrifying situation happening when you first met him, and Jotaro could physically fit the definition of big bad wolf, but his actions so far have proven he’s anything but cruel or violent. When you had gotten a look at the cut on his leg earlier you had to suppress a sudden shift and urge to rip the monster that did that to pieces. Maybe he was experiencing the same feelings towards you?

It’s been a few hours after the events of the gas station and capturing Dio’s minion when Polnareff makes a turn off the road to a campsite. Although it looked well cared for there weren’t many campers ready to brave New York forests this late in the season, there were no other cars in the lot or in any of the designated spaces close to the entrance. Jotaro is surveying the space outside his window so he doesn’t see Kakyoin turn around and catch sight of your intertwined hands. You blush and look away when you catch his eye and he’s polite enough to clear his throat before announcing this was the nearest campsite he found to dispose of the gremlin in its prison.

Polnareff parks and you’re surprised Jotaro gives your hand a squeeze before letting go and climbing out. You suppress a giggle at Joseph’s sudden snort as he jostles himself awake. Exiting the truck, you enjoy a deep lung full of clean air, not even a trace of human scent present. The falling leaves and large lake to your right create a picturesque scene and you almost wish the pack had stopped for pleasure and not business. Speaking of… Jotaro and Polnareff are unloading your captive from the back, the creature either playing possum or it had finally run out of air. A couple of hard shakes to the container don’t produce the screeches you expected.  

Joseph has fully woken up from his nap and joins them in staring at the cooler. “Well, looks like we won’t be getting any more info out of that thing.” He puts one hand on his hip and scratches at his beard with the other. “Jotaro, what do you think? Risk it getting away to see if it’s really dead?”

“No. It didn’t seem all that clever, it probably had nothing more to tell us. It’s not worth the risk of it getting loose out here.” Jotaro motions with a jerk of his chin to the dense woods. “We’ll burry the whole thing and be done with it.” The rest of the pack nods in agreement and Jotaro and Polnareff haul the cooler towards the line of trees.

You all take advantage of the rest stop and walk around the campsite while Jotaro and Polnareff make quick work of disposing of their cargo. You douse a few paper towels with some of the bottled water as they make their way back and offer them to the guys to clean up with. “Ah, merci mon amie.” Polnareff looks around for a moment before leaning in slightly “Ah, say (Y/N), you didn’t see any restrooms around here, did you?”

Jotaro rolls his eyes as he finishes cleaning the dirt from under his nails. “Good grief Pol. It’s the woods. Go anywhere.”

“Fine! Fine!” Polnareff puts his hands up in surrender, “Just thought I’d check.” He backs away from you and Jotaro and towards the lake. You turn away to give him privacy and survey the rest of the pack. Avdol and joseph are going through some of the snacks; more like Avdol is trying to restrain Joseph from sampling each new type of jerky he finds. Kakyoin is making his way to you and Jotaro when you hear a sudden shout from behind you.

Polnareff had just finished his business and was headed back to the group when his leg gets caught on something. Yelling as he’s pulled to the ground, he re-evaluates, he hasn’t tripped on his own and whatever has caught him is dragging him back towards the lake. He catches a glimpse of what looks like seaweed wrapped from ankle to kneecap as he tires to scramble away. His claws dig into the dirt as he struggles to gain traction and from behind him he hears an ungodly noise of whatever has caught him.

You and Jotaro turn as soon as you hear Polnareff’s distressed yelp. The unbelievable scene of a creature rising from the lake makes you both hesitate for a moment to comprehend what you’re seeing. Its body ungulates, a writhing mass of pond weed and lake plants twining together to take the form of what looked like a horse. Jotaro recovers from the shock first, surging forward and transforming as he ran. You are right behind him, transforming as well. The creature rears back and screeches as you both approach it, desperately trying to drag Polnareff to the water as the plants rooted to its body climb further up his leg to gain better grip on the struggling werewolf.

From your left more beasts are emerging from the water and you and Jotaro dodge the kelp and vines shooting out at you. You hear the rest of the pack behind you also start making their way to the lake but are cut off by more creatures. The one holding onto Polnareff has managed to drag the massive white werewolf to the water by the time you and Jotaro rush the last few steps to his aid. Both of his legs have been tangled by vines now but they fall away limp as Jotaro is able to cut through the main vine. You quickly help Polnareff to his feet in the knee-high water.

“What the hell are these things?” Polnareff’s voice is deeper and slightly distorted with his change and constant growl rumbling from his chest. The three of you take a defensive formation covering each other’s backs and claws out. Your ears flatten and you snarl at one of the seaweed horses as it gallops by.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” you huff and swipe at a tendril of lake-weed snaking too close for comfort, “Some kind of horses? Or we pissed off a plant witch or something?”

“Kelpies. They’ve never been sighted this far north though.” Jotaro growls out as he snaps at the beast in front of him. By now the things were running amok along the shoreline and around the pack, six of them in total working as a team to try and capture and drag you all to a watery grave. One of them turns and stamps its hooves before charging directly at you, Jotaro and Polnareff. You are forced to dive away as it barrels by but a vine of weeds wraps around your waist as it passes. You are lifted briefly into the air before landing on all fours, the vines tangling your legs as well. You hear two loud thumps behind you and see Jotaro and Polnareff were also bound by that last charge, their arms stuck to their bodies and unable to claw their way out.

You cut your own bindings as fast as you can and quickly cut them free as well before you are all dragged along with the galloping kelpie. It bellows as it realizes its prey has broken free and tosses its head making its mane of kelp fly about.  The three of you quickly move to the offensive rushing the creatures standing between you and the rest of your packmates. Jotaro takes the lead and you defend his sides, swiping away any tendrils reaching too close. Polnareff assists and keeps another beast off your backs. Ahead of you, Avdol, Joseph and Kakyoin are also struggling to keep themselves guarded and untethered, but the horses are galloping too fast to try and get any substantial hits in, circling in a pattern to keep the pack separated and vulnerable.

Jotaro narrows his eyes and growls louder as he realizes there is something more going on here. Although they are fast there are only six of the kelpies, the pack should be able to take them on one-on-one but their movements are too coordinated to be wild kelpies. He stops and takes on a defensive stance again as a sudden gleam of light catches his attention, what looks like spider’s thread catching the sunlight. He follows the line with his eyes and sees it connects to one of the kelpie’s heads. In fact, now that he’s noticed one of them, they all seem to have this silver thread connecting them to a single point in the lake. About 20 feet from the shore a figure has risen from the water, humanoid but draped in gold and blue lakeweed. It makes no move to come ashore, instead moving its arms like an orchestra conductor would to control the team of water horses under its command.

Before he can make a move towards this figure another kelpie blocks his path. Polnareff barrels forward from his right and slashes at the beast’s face with his claws. He yelps in pain at the same time the kelpie rears back and retreats, a pile of silver rope falling to the ground. Polnareff cradles his silver burned hand for a moment before his eyes light up in understanding. “It’s silver! They have silver leashes!” the kelpie he accidently freed runs past the fighting happening between its herd and the pack, running on top of the water to the far side of the lake. “It’s gonna burn like hell but we can free them!”

With one of the kelpies no longer under its control, the man in the lake’s movements become more exaggerated as the remaining five horses push themselves to move faster, biting, stomping and charging the pack. Jotaro seizes the opportunity to break another of the silver ropes as he dodges the kelpie charging at him but instead of letting go, he grips the silver line tight where he severed it. It burns something fierce but he’s able to control the horse long enough to force it to charge at the lake man and bring Jotaro along for the ride. When he’s close enough Jotaro slips the silver harness from the kelpie and throws it, hoping to tangle the puppet master. Up close he can see the man’s flashing amber eyes and although as a wolf his sense of color is limited, he can tell the kelp and weeds cloaking the creature would actually be red instead of gold if he had full color vision right now. A rusalka then. A male rusalka and a herd of kelpies under its control?

The rusalka hisses at him but it’s a mocking laugh and not a fearful defense mechanism like Jotaro expected. Instead, it seems confident in its ability to take on the hulking werewolf in the water. “Hssss… You are a foolish one, aren’t you? Making it so easy to carry out my orders. You think you’ll beat me in my element? Show me what you’ve got then, pup.” Vines of lake kelp lash out as the rusalka flails his arms, no longer focused on controlling the kelpies now that his prey was in range of his own claws. Jotaro growls and snaps the first volley of vines with his claws as he swims closer. Grabbing at the next vines that hurl at him he holds tightly and begins reeling himself closer toward the rusalka.

He’s underestimated the rusalka’s speed and he has to suddenly deflect razor sharp claws away from his exposed torso. Although it has the advantage of speed in the water it is still weaker than Jotaro and on its next swipe Jotaro is able to grab on and immobilize it while swiping with his own claws. The rusalka hisses in pain and thrashes enough to break Jotaro’s grip before getting a hit in on the wolf’s side. More lake weed vines shoot out from its body to try and wrap him up and finally succeed in binding his leg. With a great tug the battle is moved completely underwater. Jotaro is just barely able to resist the instinct to gasp as the cold water rushes into his ears and nose uncomfortably. Snapping his eyes open as he feels a shift in the water, he’s able to evade the claws that had been aiming for his face.

Now that he can see his enemy in his entirety, Jotaro realizes the reason the rusalka had been controlling the kelpies from such a distance. From the waist down, instead of legs or even fins is a thick tangle of lake weed and kelp that anchors it to the lake bottom, more vines branching off and shooting towards him from this central pillar. The vines were easily cut away as they reached him, but they were only a distraction for the rusalka to pull himself closer and unleash a flurry of slashing strikes. Jotaro blocks them with his arms and again grabs on to immobilize and pull in closer to deliver his own blows. He moves to the offensive, digging his claws into slimy flesh as the rusalka struggles in his grasp. He almost looses his grip when it lands a hard blow to his shoulder but keeps hold long enough to accomplish his final attack. With a powerful strike, Jotaro severs the thick tether keeping the rusalka anchored to the lake.  

The screech it lets out is almost deafening under water and Jotaro nearly looses his grip a second time. But with his claws embedded deep into the rusalka’s torso and his other hand gripping it by the throat he is able to swim and haul it to shore. With every foot closer it struggles harder, finally showing fear in its panicking eyes. Its movements are becoming less and less coordinated and it makes motions Jotaro recognizes as trying to call upon the kelpies for help through the silver ropes it had been using. The water is shallow enough now that Jotaro can stand and looks around for the kelpie reinforcements coming to its master’s aid. Instead, his pack spots him and rushes to help him drag the rusalka all the way to shore. Kakyoin reaches him first and the red wolf helps pull the creature the last few feet to the shore.

The change begins as soon as the last tendril loses contact with the water, some leaves shriveling and turning brown while others seem to rapidly decay and turn to sludge. The rusalka screams and thrashes as its body dries out and starts to flake away, but its strength is failing and it can’t pull itself back to the water in time. It collapses as it shrivels up, arms outstretched to the lake and it succumbs to the dry air.

You are the first one to let your transformation drop as you run up to Jotaro and Kakyoin, careful not to step in any leafy remains on the ground in front of them. Your sable fur falling away to reveal smooth skin and clothes is the unofficial signal for the others to drop their transformations as well. You reach the alpha and beta just as Jotaro lets go of his wolf form and you can see the damage the rusalka inflicted in their unseen underwater battle. You and Kakyoin nod at each other before reaching for Jotaro’s right arm and lifting it over your shoulder to support him, Kakyoin doing the same on his left side. You blush as you hear him chuckle but you’d be dammed if you weren’t going to help him after he risked his life to defeat the enemy. It seems he does appreciate your effort though as his chuckle turns into a huff and you feel his weight shift to lean on you as the three of you make your way back to the truck.

The rest of the guys move ahead getting the first aid supplied you all ransacked from the gas station opened and organized. Avdol takes charge of distributing bandages as Joseph and Polnareff drop dramatically to sit on the logs surrounding the unused fire pit. Jotaro is obviously sporting the worst injuries, but the rest of the pack is also covered in various bruises, bitemarks and silver burns. You and Kakyoin focus on getting Jotaro patched up together, you carefully clean the slashes from the rusalka’s claws and Kakyoin follows your wake drying and bandaging what he can. You don’t realize you are purring until Jotaro starts purring back and relaxes as your hands make contact with the bared flesh of his arms. You blush as you glance at his bare chest, looking in a non-clinical way now that things were calming down. Your hands only hesitate a moment though before you return to your task.

Your blush returns tenfold when Jotaro practically drags you down to sit next to him once you and Kakyoin finish bandaging each other as well. By the time everyone is bandaged up it’s getting late enough that you knew the pack wasn’t going to finish the journey to the city tonight. Everyone is sitting around the still unlit firepit and relaxing for a moment, watching the herd of kelpies you freed running and jumping across the surface of the lake when Avdol makes his suggestion. “Well, it seems like we’re not going to make much more progress tonight. We don’t have any camping gear with us, but we are already at a campsite.”

Polnareff flops over onto the log he’d been sitting on. “You mean we’re roughing it out here tonight? Can’t we keep going until we find a motel with actual beds? And proper bathrooms?”

Joseph throws an empty bottle at him, “Hush you spoilt pup! I don’t want to hear your bellyaching when you’ve got no idea what camping out here will do to my old bones!” You’re starting to recognize Joseph’s tell when he’s teasing Polnareff is to cross his arms and try and look stern, but a small grin gives him away.

“No, its too risky right now to be near humans. That rusalka, before we really got to fighting it mentioned ‘carrying out its orders’.” Jotaro shakes his head as he addresses the pack, joseph and Polnareff immediately back into serious mode. “We’ll be safer if we are able to fully transform to fight if we need to. I think that’s worth being uncomfortable for the night.”

You all agree with the decision to rank safety over comfort but you slump a little as you continue to watch the kelpies dance around the lake. You’ve slept in your car and camped out enough in your own travels that it’s not a huge hardship to do it again, but you also appreciated having a real bed to relax in. Especially after a day like today.

“I agree. However, on second thought…” Avdol motions to the kelpies, one had caught a large fish in its mouth as you had been daydreaming and now two were fighting over it and ripping the catch to pieces in the process. “Kelpies are carnivores after all. Perhaps a different campsite would be more suitable.”

Jotaro sighs and you feel him slump slightly into your side before he rallies himself and stands up. “Good point. Kakyoin, you’re navigator. Find a campsite we can get to quickly. Everyone else pack up and let’s go.”

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Author’s Note:

So. A week late, but I swear its not my fault. Guess who lives in Texas and couldn’t use a computer for the week? This gal. Everything is fine now and I’m one of the lucky few who doesn’t have a 10k electric bill or burst pipes.

Anyway, this chapter was a lot of fun to write- I always thought it was weird the crusaders just jumped right in with the rest of the crew after the Dark Blue Moon episode when CLEARLY you can’t trust anyone. So this chapter is the “Captain” and his crew as cryptids and myths. If you haven’t been reading the notes so far, I’ve planned out all of the enemies in this fashion, each battle a new myth to discover (and for me to research). Also every Wikipedia article I’ve looked at for the monsters has a reference line that is something like “Appears on episode 25 of Supernatural”. I have not seen more than 2 or 3 episodes of that show, I got to the one with the Wendigo and NOPED RIGHT OUT. Was wwaaaayyy too scary. Couldn’t handle it! So any similarities to the show are going to be pure coincidence.

Also I had to do a gag at Pol’s expense

[dudeandduchess]

Masquerade: Sanemi x Princess!F!S/O (Mulan AU, SFW/NSFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) was tired of living a sheltered and self-serving life that she knew would only end up with her getting married off to a stranger for peace talks, so before her father could even think of plucking her out of her usual dynamic, she had made a run for it— straight into the last place where he would think to look for her: a military training camp. But that didn’t mean that other people wouldn’t catch her in her own masquerade; most especially a silver-haired captain.

Note: SFW and NSFW scenes will be interspersed, so this will be the warning for the entire story. Also, it says that it’s a Mulan AU, but this is just very loosely based on it. I also said that I’ll drop the entire fic, but this isn’t even done. So I just decided to share this part with y’all. Word Count: 6,335

Warnings: Smut, Adult Themes, Language, Voyeurism, Oral Sex, D/s Themes, Vaginal Sex, Vanilla Sex, Dirty Talk, Creampie, First Time Sex, Vaginal Fingering

***

To say that (Y/n) was tired would be the understatement of the century. At that point, she was ready to pass out on her horse’s back— completely prepared to let her eyes drift shut and allow herself a few minutes, or maybe an hour or so, of well-needed sleep.

Her behind was aching from having had to sit on her horse for so long, and her back was close to screaming in protest without any support to hold it up for the duration of her journey. (Y/n) was so close to just throwing in the towel and accepting her fate: getting married to a total stranger.

Maybe it was delusional of her to think so, but she had always wanted to marry for love; to be with someone whom she knew would care for and cherish her with their entire being. The last thing that she wanted was someone who only thought of her as nothing more than a trophy, and staying at her father’s palace was a sure guarantee of that.

The tunic, as well as the hakama, that she wore did little to ward off the cold— which made her grateful for the extra layer that her chest bindings provided as a barrier from the cold. It made breathing difficult, but it was something that she had to endure, if only to make her ruse more believable.

To add to all of her efforts, she had also taken to cutting her hair so that it fell to her shoulders instead; a well acceptable length for men, without hacking all of her beloved hair off.

On either side of her horse, the armor that she’d haphazardly pilfered from one of her father’s guards clunked together in a muffled cacophony; it provided some respite from the eerily silent night, and (Y/n) couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

She knew that she was close to going crazy, not only because she had been bold enough to run away from home; but also because of the fact that she was headed right towards a place that could very well make or break her plans.

“Oh dear,” She muttered to herself— momentarily stopping her horse right in its tracks, as she surveyed the camp that was nothing more than a small speck in the distance. Her heart began hammering in her chest, making her absolutely breathless as she reached up and laid a hand over it. “You can do this, (Y/n). It’s just until you get sent on a mission.”

For all her pep talk, however, she still felt a crippling sense of dread bubble up inside her; as if it was warning her of all the consequences of her actions.

But there was no turning back at that point. She was sure that everyone in the palace was already looking for her, but all they would find was a letter that said no more than three words to her father.

I’m sorry, father.

Guilt stirred inside her at that, but she pushed it down as soon as it reared its unappealing head; before spurring her horse forward. All the while, she couldn’t help but keep hoping, and praying, for fate to work with her.

***

The moment that she reached the camp, she immediately dismounted her horse and kept a hold of its reigns— gently leading it along, with her grip increasingly getting tighter and tighter, as the fear of someone knocking her to the ground and stealing her only companion played in her mind.

It didn’t help at all that most of the men in the camp looked so ominous and foreboding— especially the ones whom were sharpening their swords with scowls on their faces.

To sum it up, the camp was everything that her nursemaids and escorts had warned her against. The area was clean enough for normal standards, but to her— whom had grown up in the lap of luxury— it was shoddy and filthy. Hell, it made her hairs stand up on end, especially when a sweaty man had brushed against her arm; leaving a really disgusting patch of sweat in his wake.

She almost had to rush over to a private area, all so she could wait out the nausea that took over her entirety.

Immediately, however, she made a face down at her arm— before doing the most unladylike thing, and wiping her forearm against the back of her tunic.  “You can do this, (Y/n). You can do this.”

She kept repeating the mantra in her head, even though a tiny voice inside her kept telling her to give up and go home. But, with a hefty sigh, she reached into the rucksack attached to her horse’s left side, and pulled out the scroll— wishing to high heaven that there was a concierge at the camp to help her get settled in, or maybe even a welcoming committee to guide her to where she needed to go.

But, alas, it was a military camp. So she had no choice but to rough it. After all, she was the one whom had chosen to forsake her old life in the first place.

“U-um!” (Y/n) cleared her throat then, putting in the effort to make her voice sound a few octaves deeper, as she raced over to one of the uniformed soldiers walking within the camp.

Awkwardly, she bowed down— forcing herself to let go of years of etiquette lessons and royal protocol— as she bent down lightly at the waist. Thankfully, her internal dilemma at possibly being found out all because she wasn’t used to bowing didn’t show on the outside. In fact, the soldier seemed to puff his chest out in pride.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but internally curl her upper lip at the man’s concealed arrogance, knowing full well that he would be in a dogeza if he only knew who she really was. However, that was only if he knew her real identity; and she had no intention of outing herself so soon— or at all, really.

So, she swallowed her pride and held out her summons scroll; waiting with tense anticipation if the man would even know that she had taken it from one of the numerous summons scrolls in her father’s war counsel room.

She didn’t even know whom the scroll was for, and she sincerely regretted not even taking a look at it before she entered the camp.

“Miyuki?” The soldier spoke in a questioning tone, making her think for a moment before realizing that he had been pertaining to the name on the parchment.

“Yes. Miyuki… Yuki.” (Y/n) wanted to hit herself for coming up with the most obviously fake name in the world, but it was too late for regret— as even the soldier quirked his eyebrow at that, chuckling under his breath before handing the scroll back to her.

“You belong with the other new recruits. Go to the supplies shed at the edge of camp and ask for your provisions.” With one last snarky smirk, the man tipped his head at her, before going on with his day.

And (Y/n) could only watch with narrowed eyes, as the man sauntered away from her— wishing to all the deities to give her the patience to deal with blatantly being dismissed like that.

She had to have the patience for it, if she wanted to last more than a week at the camp.

So, with pursed lips, she set out to go to the supplies shed— all so she could get started on starting her life as a soldier.

It took hours, and a lot of quiet snickers from the other men in the camp, but she had managed to finally pitch her tent up. Though, she had to tie one end up on a small tree; just so it would stay up.

Her days with her etiquette teachers could have been considered a walk in the park, compared to having to rough it out on her own. She had even missed dinner, all because she hadn’t known that the evening bell had been a signal for meal time. So, she had made do with the bread that had hardened considerably during her day-long ride to the camp.

And so, after dining on her scrumptious piece of bread, she had deigned to get ready for bed— only to look down at herself and finally notice how filthy she was. Her tunic had been smeared with dirt, and her arms were also blotched with patches of soil here and there— which had her curling her upper lip in disgust.

She couldn’t very well sleep in her current state, but she also hadn’t seen any enclosed baths or bathhouses for the common foot soldiers. The fact that she wouldn’t be able to wash herself made her heart sink, until she remembered seeing an unattended bathhouse right by the supply shed.

The sign outside said that it was only for the captain’s use, but she figured that it was already way too late for him to take a bath— and all the other soldiers would have already been asleep. So, with a half-cocked plan in mind, (Y/n) crept out of her tent with a fresh set of clothes and shushed her horse, before sneaking over to get her much-needed bath.

***

Sanemi sighed, clearly exasperated at having had to deal with the councilman that had been assigned to him. The man was an absolute piece of work, as he recorded everything that Sanemi had said and done all day— down to his sighs and irritated scoffs. And, to top it all off, he had complained non-stop about the lack of amenities within the camp.

Which was why Sanemi was more than thankful for the silence that wrapped around the camp, as he made his way over to his private bath house.

“Fucking idiots,” The captain grumbled under his breath, needing some sort of release as he felt the tension weigh down on his shoulders even more. He was so stressed out about the oncoming war, and the time-pressure that had been added to his plate.

The Shogun wanted a fully functional army by the end of three months, but he had seen the men that had been sent to him— and all of them were no more than boys with the bodies of men.

He shook his head at that, clearing his thoughts for the moment, as she stepped up to the well-lit bath house; making him do a double take when he noticed that the lantern inside was on— which it shouldn’t have been.

Unless someone was blatantly disobeying camp rules and was trespassing in there.

Slowly, he crept up to the entrance of the bath house, making sure to keep his movements quiet as he slid the door open— quickly sliding into the sizeable room, and setting his things down on a wicker table by the door.

He could hear the sound of water sloshing around inside the main bath area— right where the onsen was— and he quickly tiptoed towards the entryway for it, peeking through the slightly parted shoji to see who had even dared to use his property; or property that had been made for his exclusive use, rather.

Only, instead of seeing one of the men in the camp, his eyes widened as he took in a woman’s tempting figure in the night. She stood by the lip of the onsen, testing the water’s temperature by dipping her toes into the pool, before letting out such a pleasured sigh that went straight to Sanemi’s cock.

Lilac-colored eyes traced over every patch of skin that was bared to him, lingering on her breasts, before going down to her thighs, and then flickering over to her pretty cunt that was nestled between her thighs.

“Fuck,” The captain whispered, licking his lips and swallowing thickly— his gaze never leaving the woman, even as she stepped into the steaming water. Deliberately, he palmed his slowly hardening cock through his pants— squeezing lightly, in a subtle attempt for a taste of pleasure.

A soft groan left his lips at that, moving his fingers to squeeze his balls as the woman sidled closer to where he was standing by the door. Only, his breath got caught in his throat for an entirely different reason, when the light from one of the lanterns illuminated her features.

There was no mistaking that face, even if it was bare from all of the make-up, and was not being framed by the artfully feminine hairstyles that he’d always seen her don in the palace. He had gazed upon that face so many times before, that he was willing to bet his rank and title that he had been looking right at (L/n) (Y/n), the daughter of the Shogun.

Sanemi’s cock got even harder at that; remembering the way that she had gracefully sashayed into the dining area— after a war council meeting had been held at the Shogun’s palace. His fascination with her had started then, but he’d never let it grow more than that.

But, given the chance that he’d had at that moment, he couldn’t help but give in to his baser urges and keep palming his cock through his pants; massaging his balls and rubbing the heel of his palm against his length.

A quiet groan left his lips at the action, as his eyes threatened to flutter shut at the pleasurable sensation. Still, he forced himself to keep his eyes trained on her, watching her every move as she scooped some water up in her hands, and let it flow down her neck and chest.

Sanemi was so tempted to pull his cock out and keep stroking himself to the view that she made, but he knew that he shouldn’t cross that line— not with her. He wanted her in his bed, not as mere fuel for his lust.

And so, he let go of his erection at that— taking a deep breath to center himself once more, before sliding the shoji open. His eyes were narrowed at her, watching as her expression morphed into blatant shock, before turning into mortification.

It even took her a few seconds to cross her arms over her chest, as her brain could play nothing but the possible punishments that was going to be handed down to her— all because she couldn’t take not bathing for a day.

Only a few hours had passed since she’d entered the camp, yet she knew that she’d already gotten caught— by the captain, no less.

What made things infinitely worse, however, was the shine of recognition in his eyes; even in the dark night, she could pick out the familiarity in his look.

He knew who she was, and it was too late to dissuade him from his assumptions.

“State your name and business,” Sanemi stated with a coy smirk, being formal even though he knew that he had her cornered. She couldn’t possibly begin to explain why she was bathing in the Captain’s bath house at that hour, let alone explain the fact that she was a woman in an all-man camp.

Or even begin to explain what the daughter of the Shogun was doing so far away from home.

“I…” (Y/n) bit down on her bottom lip, trying to think of a good out to the situation, but all that she could focus on was how she was going to be sent back home if she didn’t think of something fast. Her own thoughts did nothing to help her; in fact, they only burdened her even more by making her panic.

Sanemi scoffed at that, not even holding back the smirk that widened across his lips as he lifted a hand up and crooked a finger at her— beckoning her to come over to where he was. “Now.”

(Y/n) felt as if she had been doused with ice cold water then, despite the warm water still enveloping her from below her breasts to her feet. She couldn’t will her legs to move the barest inch, so she was stuck standing in place with her eyes trained on the silver-haired captain.

“Tsk,” Sanemi clicked his tongue in mild irritation when she didn’t move. And, at the evidence of his annoyance, the young woman finally started moving— gingerly lifting herself out of the onsen, and baring her body once more to Sanemi’s hungry eyes.

He fully expected her to walk over to him meekly, with her head bowed and her arms wrapped around her to allow her what modesty she had left; but she did the exact opposite. Instead of bowing her head in shame, she lifted her head— as if she were about to attend a formal ceremony, instead of walking naked towards a military officer.

Despite her bravado however, her eyes still showed uncertainty and fear of the consequences.

When she was a few feet away from Sanemi, he quirked an eyebrow at her; briefly letting his gaze linger on her tempting lips, before going back up to her eyes. “Tell me, princess, what’s a woman like you doing out here?”

He wasn’t dumb; he knew full well what one of her possible reasons for being there was. He’d seen it enough with other noble women, much like herself.

She wanted to break free of the chains that held her down. And the only solution to that was either to perish, or to run away.

Instead of replying, however, (Y/n) remained silent— even going as far as to turn her gaze right on him, and deliberately look away; as if she had just dismissed him.

But Sanemi was having none of her attitude.

He closed the distance between them, taking hold of her face by her chin, and turning her full attention on him. “I asked you a question, Ohime-sama.”

(Y/n)’s teeth gritted at the backhandedly delivered term, as she tried to get herself away from his grip— to no avail. “If you’re going to send me back to my father, do it now. And do it silently.”

Another scoff left Sanemi’s lips at that, as he leaned closer to her face— as a way to intimidate her. “You’re not really in a position to order me around.”

“Then tell me what your condition is.”

A grin tugged up at the corners of Sanemi’s lips at that, his cock twitching within the confines of his pants as he imagined the topmost things that he wanted to do to her. “You, on your knees… with my cock in your mouth. And you with your legs spread for me, warming my bed every night.”

The princess’ eyes widened at that, as she had never been spoken to in such an uncouth manner before— yet, she couldn’t deny that his filthy words made her feel much hotter than was appropriate.

“I’ll keep your secret, and even take care of you while you’re here, if you do those things for me.” Sanemi wasn’t even sure why he was propositioning the Shogun’s daughter— of all people— but looking at her made him so needy for her touch that it wasn’t funny.

If he were to be honest, he would say that she was the only person that he’d been attracted to in a long time. But he couldn’t let her know that, on the off-chance that she turned the tables on him.

(Y/n) had never been with a man before, let alone kissed one, but she had eavesdropped on her own escorts and lady’s maids to know about the nitty gritty details that sex entailed, so it wasn’t as if she was jaded about it. In fact, she had long since wanted to try it— but no man would ever have the courage to bed her out of marriage, so she had let the notion go.

As she let her gaze flicker over the Captain once more— memorizing his sharp features, and admiring the rugged handsomeness he possessed— she found herself wanting to agree to his conditions. It was going to be a mutually beneficial arrangement, if she was sure that he was going to hold up his end of the deal.

And he really wasn’t that bad to look at, so it added to the lure of saying yes.

“If you don’t hold up your end of the deal, I swear to make your life hell the moment I get back to the palace,” (Y/n) threatened coolly, completely bluffing as she knew that she would most likely be kept in a secluded guest villa for the rest of her years, if she were to ever return home.

Still, for her bold-faced lie, she seemed pretty convincing— judging by the way that the Captain’s lips turned down into a brief scowl. His grip on her chin tightened at that, and he leaned forward to close the gap between them— finally giving in to the temptation to taste her lips. “Sealed with a kiss, Ohime-sama. Now, get down on your knees.”

Deciding to just follow his words, instead of even trying to spite him with her brattiness, (Y/n) lifted her hands up to the man’s chest— dragging them down his body as she sank down on her knees in front of him. “Bold words for a man who hasn’t even introduced himself.”

Her snarky words grated on Sanemi’s nerves, but he swallowed back his ire and simply watched her as she unfastened his pants— pulling the garment down and freeing his erection from his underwear, as well. His cock immediately sprung up in front of her, making her eyes slightly widen as she took in just how thick and long he was. “Shinazugawa Sanemi. You’d do best to remember that-”

Sanemi was cut off, however, when (Y/n) encircled his length with an uncertain hand; all before boldly licking at the head of his cock. She was going by pure instinct, and praying all the while that what she was doing was pleasurable. But, by the way that Sanemi sighed heavily and placed a hand on the back of her head, she construed that she was doing it right.

And when she wrapped her mouth around him, it took everything inside the Captain to not shove his cock down her throat. His fingers curled within her hair— gripping the strands tightly, as he gently rocked his hips into her hot mouth.

If he wasn’t mistaken, she had lived a sheltered life— hence being inexperienced in sex. So, he had to be patient and indulgent with her; teach her how things worked, lest he wanted their deal to fall through with his aggressiveness.

And so, with a much gentler grip on her hair, Sanemi tilted her face up so that their eyes could meet. It was shameful because the sight of her on her knees— with his cock in her mouth, and her eyes looking directly up at him— almost had him cumming on the spot. “S-slowly, lick up the underside of my cock and take it in at your pace.”

It was going to be a lot of work, but it wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to have fun molding her to his personal taste.

***

Apparently, the promise that Sanemi had made her about ‘taking care of her’ didn’t entail any special treatment during training. He was ruthless with her, especially when it came to hand-to-hand combat; and it didn’t help that most of the men around her thought that she was a weakling for always being the one to fall behind.

Especially that time when they were running drills up in the mountains. No one had said anything in Sanemi’s presence but, once he’d left, all of the whispers began about her being the weak link— even having the audacity to have disappeared for so long, and being a burden on Captain Shinazugawa overall.

She couldn’t very well tell them that Sanemi had dragged her off to a secluded alcove right by the trail, all so he could get his cock sucked.

Hell, she couldn’t even tell them the truth that he had long discovered that she wasn’t whom she said she was, and that the reason why she was still at the camp was all due to the fact that she was warming Sanemi’s bed at night— at least, to an extent.

If she said that, it was a sure way to get her sent back to the palace— and also a guaranteed way to get Sanemi stripped of his rank.

For all of his faults, however, (Y/n) had to give it to him: he was an absolute gentleman—not in the way he handled her when he wanted a blowjob, or wanted to eat her out, but in the way that he didn’t push her past what she was comfortable with.

Two weeks had already passed since that night in the bath house, yet he hadn’t pushed her past oral sex. And when things got too heated between them, he always settled for cumming in her mouth or on her pussy. He had never taken his cock and made good on one of his promises to fuck her good as— according to the Captain himself— she wasn’t ready yet.

Because, despite (Y/n) bravado and curiosity winning out that night, there were still times when she felt so lost within herself— always second-guessing whether she was really doing the right thing, if only for the briefest second.

And Sanemi always picked up on that momentary hesitation; no matter how quickly the uncertainty flickered in her eyes.

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) poked her head out from her tent, checking if the coast was clear before sneaking out. Her footsteps had gotten much lighter since the start of training— much lighter than it ever was when she was living at the palace— and it really helped her travel from her own tent to Sanemi’s at night.

“Oi, Miyuki!” Her eyes widened at her fake name being called out and, with an uneasy grin on her lips, she turned around and awkwardly waved at one of her squad mates.

If she remembered correctly, his name was Kamado Tanjirō. And the two other men who were always with him were Agatsuma and Hashibira. They were the only three who didn’t give her hell at the camp, so she tried to be nice to them— as much as possible.

“Where are you going off to at this hour?” Tanjirō asked with that characteristically sweet smile on his face, making (Y/n)’s stomach twist with guilt at having to lie to someone so pure hearted.

“I… the Captain… wanted to see me,” She answered awkwardly, tacking her words off with a grimace that she hoped was convincing enough for him not to ask anything more. And, technically, it wasn’t a lie: Sanemi did want to see her, not just for official reasons.

She could feel her pussy get wet at the images that flickered in her mind; all of them with her in varying degrees of pleasure, with either Sanemi’s hands or mouth on her body.

And before Tanjirō could say anything to that, she already excused herself and hightailed it out of there— making a direct bee line for Sanemi’s tent, all while praying that no one other than that one person had seen her out and about.

“You’re late.” Sanemi clicked his tongue in irritation, yet pulled the covers back for his futon— which had been set on wooden slats, to keep him as comfortable as humanly possible.

He had initially wanted to refuse the luxury, since his men slept on much thinner futons placed on the ground, but had to rethink his decision ever since the arrangement with (Y/n) had been made.

Gingerly, the young woman tied the flaps of the tent together, even going for double knots— as if that would keep them from being discovered.

When she was done closing the sizeable tent up, she then turned to face her lover— licking her suddenly dry lips when she saw his bare chest on full display for her. In turn, Sanemi patted the empty space beside him— beckoning her to join him in his bed.

And she didn’t even hesitate, at all. She slipped her tunic off, folding it neatly and setting it on a nearby chair. It was then followed by her pants and underwear— also folded and set aside neatly. Then came her chest bindings.

Sanemi watched her with apt focus; his gaze getting hotter and hotter with every inch of skin she bared to him. And, beneath the blanket, he felt himself get hard.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long, as (Y/n) climbed in beside him after turning the lamp off— assuming her usual position, as he spooned her; wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back flush against his scarred chest.

There was nothing but silence between them at that point, save for their soft breaths filling the tent. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, and it wasn’t the most innocent of silences, either— especially as Sanemi began pressing kisses against the back of (Y/n)’s head, allowing himself to dip his head low so he could pepper kisses along her right shoulder and up the side of her neck.

All the while, his right hand drifted down to her hip; massaging her flesh tenderly, as he pressed his warm erection against her ass. “You smell so tempting. Did you take another bath?”

(Y/n) could only nod, since a breathless gasp had escaped her lips before she could speak— all because her lover had snaked his fingers down to her pussy, running his index finger up her slit and collecting her wetness at the pad of it, before circling her clit with it.

“Next time, we should take one together.”

She opened her mouth to answer, only to be cut off once more when Sanemi pinched her clit between his thumb and index finger— making her hips jerk involuntarily against him.

With that, the Captain dragged his fingers down to her entrance— rubbing the sopping hole with the pad of his middle finger— before slipping it inside to the first knuckle. “Tonight, I’m going to slip my cock inside this tight pussy of yours, and I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Instead of alarming (Y/n), however, Sanemi’s words only made her walls clench down on his finger— or what little there was of it inside her— as she got even wetter than before.

“Do you want that?”

She surprised even herself with how sure and needy she sounded, “Yes. Please, Sanemi.”

It took everything in the young man to not grab his dick and slip it inside her at that moment— as it twitched where it was pressed flush between her ass cheeks. Still, no matter how much he deemed her mentally ready, she still wasn’t wet enough to receive him.

So, with a renewed sense of vigor, the Captain his middle finger deeper inside her— hissing at how tight her walls clenched around the single digit. Slowly, he thrusted his finger inside her— being gentle enough with her, as he knew that it was her first time.

For the most part, (Y/n) was quiet save for her soft sighs and mewls, especially when Sanemi curled his finger up against a spot inside her that had her legs quivering in pleasure.

She thought that that feeling was already heavenly enough, but when her lover’s other hand joined in the foray— toying with her clit so expertly— she was reduced to nothing more than a breathless and quivering mass against him; not even trying to fight back the orgasm that she knew would hit at any given moment.

It wasn’t until Sanemi added another finger and began flicking her clit at a rapid pace that she finally succumbed to her own pleasure— biting down hard on her bottom lip to keep herself as quiet as she could.

Her chest was heaving as she came down from her high, absolute putty in his hands as he pulled his finger out from her cunt and put it up to his mouth— sucking the digit clean before pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Delicious.”

It was such a tender gesture that it threw (Y/n) for a loop, confusing her enough to lose momentary focus of her surroundings; and the next thing she knew, Sanemi was already hovering above her— caging her in between his arms, with his hips cradled between her thighs.

“Hold on tight, princess, and don’t make a sound— unless you want the whole camp to know who’s fucking you,” He whispered against her lips, dropping a languid peck against it, before reaching a hand down to grip his cock— all so he could align the tip to her entrance, collecting her wetness on his cockhead and teasingly dipping it inside.

(Y/n) nodded her assent, even wrapping her arms around her lover’s neck and digging her fingers into the taut muscles on his back. Then slowly, Sanemi pushed himself inside her— his attention solely on her, as he didn’t want to hurt her.

At the first sign that she didn’t want to do it, he was going to back off and settle for a blowjob— even though the more that he pushed inside, the more euphoric he felt as her walls clamped down around him.

If (Y/n) were to be honest, she would say that she was nervous as hell; not because she wasn’t sure if Sanemi was just going to ram his cock inside her, but because of all the stories that she’d heard about how painful it was. But, as she laid there, with her arms around him, all she felt was a sting— at most. It wasn’t a splitting pain like everyone had said it would be.

She wasn’t in agony, but it was a little uncomfortable.

And by the time that Sanemi was fully sheathed inside her, she felt so full that even the slightest movement had her mewling in a mix of discomfort and pleasure. Then slowly, the Captain pulled his cock out of her— only to slide it back in, in the same gentle manner as before.

It went on like that for a few minutes, with Sanemi letting (Y/n) get used to the new sensations, until she leaned up slightly and whispered into his ear, “I need more, Sanemi. Please fuck me.”

Sanemi didn’t need to be told twice after that, as he slowly picked up the pace— relishing in the feel of his lover’s cunt practically pulling him back inside with how tight and wet she was.

The arm that was holding him up was starting to shake with the weight he put on it, yet he paid it no mind as he reached down and began toying with (Y/n)’s clit once more; trying to bring her to orgasm, as he knew that he was close to cumming— what with how long he had anticipated the moment he could finally fuck her.

It was shameful to not have even lasted his usual twenty minutes before cumming, but Sanemi really couldn’t help the pleasurable feeling that consumed him from the inside— starting at the bottom of his spine and gradually getting hotter and tighter. His balls, all heavy with his cum, kept slapping against her ass— adding to the sounds of their heavy breathing as well as (Y/n)’s soft gasps that filled the tent.

“I… I’m cumming, Sanemi,” The princess whispered, screwing her eyes shut and digging her nails into her lover’s back— raking them down the closer she got to the precipice of her own orgasm.

Her legs began to quiver once more, yet Sanemi was relentless with his thrusts. He didn’t let her have some reprieve, between angling his hips to hit a certain spot inside her that had her cursing under her breath everytime, to continuously playing with her clit— it was a sensory overload for (Y/n).

A highly pleasurable one that had her almost screaming and waking the entire camp, had Sanemi not slammed his lips against her at the last second; effectively shutting her up as he snaked his tongue into her mouth.

He felt her walls clamp down around him then, as if her pussy was trying to milk his cock for all it was worth. It didn’t help that the sensation of her nails digging into his back added to his pleasure; so, with one last thrust, he buried himself in her to the hilt— painting her walls with his warm and thick cum.

Both of them stayed like that for a few heartbeats, just languidly exchanging kisses as both of them climbed down from their highs— still closely entwined, with Sanemi’s cock nestled inside (Y/n)’s tight cunt.

“I want you again,” The captain whispered— a little winded from what they’d done a few minutes before, but still needy to feel more.

[hyperfixatinglove]

Ygo 5ds for the ask meme 💖💖💖 ily

💖💖💖

@sunshine-ships

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)

Tetsu Ushio duh.

But also Yusei! I get so attached to protagonists of almost everything I watch, but I love the guy, he's just some guy who build motorcycle and lives in slums but got wrapped up in supernatural shit, he doesn't give a fuck to give you answer unless he wants and takes time to open up to people but he loves his friends very dearly. Just Yusei Fudo man.

Carly too! She's this reporter with love for divination as someone with hobby for divination how can I not love her? She's hilarious and bubbly but also kind of inconsiderate of others at first.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)

Rally, Rua and Ruka!! They¨re the "babies" of the group but I also love how they look grown up (speaking of which where was my grown up!Rally animation team??)

I love how real Rua & Ruka's bond is shown, they feel like actual twins (outside some missteps), they both feel distinguished from each other by their wants, needs, motivations & I just love that. Love how Rua's brat at first but grows out of it (still having some arrogance into adulthood) and Ruka's the more ""mature"" one. Loved how Ruka seemed to have this supernatural connection with monsters from cards, it was shame it wasn't explored more!

Rally just, she deserved far more screen time than what she had (I know in canon Rally's boy, but they're trans girl to me don't @ me), her first appearance showed her as bit cunning as she stole a part for Yusei's bike & it's clear they have strong sibling bond!

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)

Mikage Sagiri!!

She deserved so much better! Reduced to comedic fangirl from competent and level-headed individual? Yikes. I did love how she was promoted from secretary to chief of special investigations but the anime just didn't want her to be even better. They could've made her duel too, or make her useful more or more around but nope.

All she got was her identity almost completely wrapped around some jerkass celebrity.

She's queen and deserved everything. No wonder I've fallen out of Yugioh too since it treats it's women like shit.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)

Stephanie!! She's just cute waitress in some cafe in universe and makes like grand total of 4 appearances lasting less than 20 seconds in 154 episodes but I love her! She's my friend in my AU canon!! She loves gossip because I say so, she gives that energy who would love to hear the newest tea.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)

I guess Ushio, Mikage & Kazama since they're thinly veiled cops??

Also Early canon!Ushio is just pathetic. Just screaming insults at 18 yo for losing to him in card game, gets owned 2 more times by the same 18 yo, no one liked him, gets yelled at by his superiors, sucks at stealth, has some superiority complex, the list goes on. Just pre-episode 45 Ushio is pathetic, scumbag mess.

I still love him but my god the whiplash canon vs my own canon has..

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)

I can't think of anyone. I used to torment Ushio, like having multiply AUs where he went to Silent Hill, musing and twisting his canonical crush marrying someone else to make him suffer.. Those days are gone tbh I don't want harm come to him now.

The most I torment him with are these scenarios where I get hurt and he gets Mad.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell)

Divine. He's some psychic duelist (meaning they can make pain real in card game duel smh) that experiments on children and has killed some, manipulated Aki into hurting countless people and just gloats evilly whenever he can. Getting eaten by supernatural frog clearly wasn't enough.

[betasuppe]

Here's the info for the Obakei + Crime Fam AU I came up with earlier today [literally started today, so sorry if this seems a bit messy & such, but this is what I've got so far!]:

It starts with Kei, who comes from a rather well to do family, when her parents have arranged a marriage for her with a really wealthy man who practically owns half of the town!... even though she's never met before. The guy seems like a good fellow, but turns out to be a total creep. The first time they meet, he gets her alone in his house after separating her from Morgan - who's an employee of Kei's household, but the two practically see themselves as sisters! - & the monster tries to r*pe her. In her panic, Kei pulls a gun she had smuggled in on her person [which Morgan insisted Kei bring along with her just in case] & she kills him without a second thought. Knowing no one would believe her & she'd be punished cruelly for his murder, she tells Morgan about the ordeal & the two quickly run off into the night without looking back....

Days pass & it's only too obvious that Kei's basically useless in the real world & she struggles to get along with what little money she has. Even though Morgan has far more street smarts than her, they can only get so far with the small amount of resources they have together. They eventually wind up at a bank, where Kei begs for access to some money through her father's account [to no avail] when the place is suddenly held up by a terrible group of bandits. The monsters take the girl hostage, holding her at gunpoint to rob the place blind & use her to safely make their exit after their successful robbery. They tie her up & toss her on the back of a horse & are about to head off when Kei starts screaming that she needs Morgan, to the point that her ride-or-die pal willingly gives herself up to be taken hostage as well lmao when the bandits take off deep into the night.

Once they get to their hidden, but opulent decorated hideout somewhere in the middle of the desert, the bandits tie the girls up & play around with them in a not so friendly manner, cruelly suggesting just how to be rid of the girls. Kei manages to get the gag off of her face & she bargains for their lives, telling the criminals that they can ransom her back to her rich, stupid family for some big bucks. This catches the leader's attention & the Wraith finally steps in. He stares down silently at their prisoners, where Kei panics & tells them all how fabulously wealthy her father is & how much more worth alive she could be to the fiends. After letting her awkwardly ramble on for a bit, he announces that they have big plans thanks to the lucky hostage taking of this particular patsy.

So, the bandits keep them simply as prisoners for a while, but Kei & Morgan both somehow start bonding with a few particular members of the gang until they've won over everyone besides their stoic leader. But, eventually after being coerced by his gang & chatting with the girls on his own, the Wraith is intrigued enough that he has the two released & has them start training to be a part of their team of misfits, as Kei made it plainly clear that she too wants to get back at her family & show them she's not just a useless tool to marry off for her father's sake & all that!

So, Kei takes to the wild side of life real fast & becomes a natural leader & gunslinger among the chaotic group. She's there with the bandits through heists & robberies, even going so far to help plan out the ransom scheme they're going to enact againsy her own family. Thus, cue hectic rides through the desert in the dark of the night on horse back & crazy train robberies & full town shoot outs & all the classic western tropes that are just 😌👌

& all the while, Kei & the Wraith grow closer together, going from being his prisoner to basically becoming his right hand man.

In due time, they slowly learn more about each other, & find that they share similar disastrous pasts that led them out here in the middle of desert to live these chaotic criminal lives.

It turns out that the Wraith's sad tale started when he had once proposed to his hometowns darling & the love of his life. They had been best friends since childhood & so she eagerly agreed, but he was completely undesirable in her family's eyes as he was half native & the town frowned on his mixed heritage. So, instead, this girl's family decided to have her be quickly married off to someone else, to shake the Wraith from tearing down the good name of their elite family.

Regardless, the Wraith was able to find out when & where the wedding was yo take place & when he tried to stop the wedding proceedings, hired goons from the girl's family beat him up & tossed his sorry self in jail. By the time the Wraith came to, the girl was married to some wealthy idiot & long gone, set off on some train for her new life without him.

Fueled by rage, he broke out of jail & confronted the girl's father, where the two engaged in a stand off & the Wraith shot the horrible man down. With a price on his head & wanted posters hanging around the town for killing an official of the blasted little town, he ran off & started accumulating a group of followers by freeing prisoners from nearby jails & working with renegade natives who were hungry for revenge on these land developers & businesses who were eating up the natural landscape & sacred lands, as well.

Over time, the fearsome name of the Wraith passed from town to town, where the team of criminals slowly took on larger & larger crimes until they were the stuff of legends! They were slowly taking back towns one by one until they were nothing but ghost towns & the desert was allowed to reclaim the land stolen from them.

&... well... uh, sorry to say, but that's honestly all I have so far!! I started thinking up this whole thing this morning, so forgive me for any odd ideas or whatnot, I'm slowly going to smooth it out into a solid story!!

Bur, surely rhe bandits return to take revenge of Kei's family & some sort of drama surely unfolds, but I'm not sure what just yet... so sorry for the lack of satisfying ending,, but I'm working on it oops! I promise!!

Lemme know your thoughts & if you have any ideas, shoot them my way as I will gladly take on advice to draw this story to a perfect ending!!!

[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.

[rainbowvamp]

Miracle Merlin

Hi Friends! So.. I'm about to drop 4 chapters of the Princess Bride AU in one day. Sorry about that. :) Fill for “The Blessed Ones” for Albion Party Week 2 (plus red)

Warnings? some mentions of Gwen’s trauma around the color red and trauma in general. More Gwen and Merlin :)

To catch you up: Elyan asked Merlin to take Gwen as an apprentice so he could sell the forge and pursue revenge. This is establishing the Gwen & Merlin dynamic. I think it’s cute. :) 

WC: 6.9k || Previous chapters. 1 2 3 4 5 

----

At first light, the day after it is decided that Merlin will take Gwen with him, Gwen and Merlin ride out the half day to the nearest market, Merlin’s list and pouch of gold at the ready. 

Gwen has to ride with him on the way there, because Elyan and Gwen don’t have a horse. It’s uncomfortably close, having to keep hold of Merlin’s waist, but she doesn’t waver when Elyan helps her on, and she doesn’t flinch when she settles behind him. 

The ride to town is quiet. Gwen doesn’t feel much like talking, and Merlin doesn’t force it. They will probably have to find lodgings in the town, or else make camp, he tells her, but other than that he says nothing. 

They arrive when the sun is beating down on them, and take lunch at a stall. Sweet bread drizzled with honey that is more decadent than anything she has allowed herself since her father died. She didn’t choose it, never would have presumed to, and by the look on Merlin’s face she thinks he might be bribing her. Either way, she enjoys the rare treat and even licks her fingers clean when she’s finished. Merlin hands her a cloth to wipe her face with, and she does so graciously before they set off to buy what they need. 

Merlin is not rich, by any means, but what he buys her is far more than she likely would have ever afforded on her own. He buys her a couple of traveling dresses she’ll have to adjust, and a pair of boots she’ll have to stuff the toes of to keep them tight on her feet. He promises to have better things made for her, but she tells him over and over that this will be enough for her. She’s been wearing her mother’s altered clothes for years, she hardly needed anything made new for her when what they could find was just fine. 

The traveling gear he buys after he buys her her own horse. It’s a beautiful creature, even if she’s getting on in years. Merlin hadn’t expected he’d be leaving with a companion, or he’d have  brought a horse with him. “It’s always easier to fetch a good price for a horse that isn’t needed desperately,” he tells her. It reassured her a bit that Merlin had never intended to whisk her away, and was truly doing it at Elyan’s request. 

Merlin’s idle chatter is soft spoken, and she finds him an easy companion once she has her own horse to ride. Merlin inquires about lodging, but it’s no good. Everything’s booked up and they’ve spent enough time in town that they’ll never make it back before dark, even with summer’s longer days. 

“I know a place we can make camp. Come on.” He clicks his tongue and his horse just seems to know where to go. Her own follows suit without her even having to command it. That’s very helpful, but she wonders if it’s the horse’s training or Merlin’s magic that makes her follow him. 

They make camp in a small clearing of trees that Gwen doesn’t remember having seen before. The grass is short, but plush, and the bedroll she lays out on it doesn’t feel as thin for it. They supped at the inn, and so now all that’s left is to sleep. She stripped to just her chemise while hiding behind one of the horses, wrapping herself in the thick blanket that still smelled new to preserve her modesty.

“You’ll want to keep that blanket with you. It will get cold tonight. The enchantment to make your clothes waterproof is too complicated to do on the road, so if you get up after the dew has formed, try not to let anything get too wet.” Merlin gives her several similar instructions about sleeping out in the open, and then he walks the perimeter of their camp, muttering to himself. 

This, he doesn’t explain, but she feels entitled to know. So once he comes back to his bedroll, she asks him.

“Wards.” He says with an easy shrug. “I always put them up when I’m not home. It keeps away ne'er-do-wells and any opportunistic thieves. It won’t stop someone determined to find us, that sort of magic is harder to do, but it will misdirect anyone who might just happen to stumble upon us.”

That did seem like a handy bit of magic. Gwen nodded, satisfied, and settled herself down to sleep, careful to keep herself covered completely in the blanket. 

“You need sleeping clothes.” Merlin muttered, but it seemed to be mostly to himself. She quite agreed, but she hadn’t really thought of it during the day. 

The pillow she uses is rough, and better suited for laying on her back than on her side. She finds that she can’t sleep with all the thoughts of what may be in her future. There’s a very real chance, no matter what Elyan or Merlin say, that she’ll be burned at the stake for Merlin’s magic. She finds it hard to care about that, though, when she knows that if Elyan and his treasonous plans are discovered, he’ll be killed and she’ll be all alone in the world. 

The stars are easier to focus on, so she turns her attention to the clear sky. 

The canopy of trees breaks toward the center of the clearing, and so she looks there for the few star formations she remembers. Hunt as she might, she can’t find anything that she recognizes. It’s disappointing, but she just pulls her blanket in closer to her chin and reminds herself that stars rise and fall just like the sun does, and she could very well see some later. 

“That’s the great bear, there.” Merlin says, startling Gwen and making her sit up, clutching her blanket to her. He laughs, and she looks at him, indignant that he could be laughing at a time like this.

He’s still laying down, looking up at the same patch of clear sky she had been. “Not in the woods. Up in the stars. The great bear is just there.” He points and she tries to follow his line of sight, but it’s useless. He seems to see her struggle and he gets up, in only hit shirtsleeves and his trousers, and lays down beside her to get a better look at her vantage point. “Alright, see” He points his finger and she leans her head closer to him to try and see what he sees. “By that leaf, that’s the bear’s body.” He makes a square with his finger and she can sort of start to see it. “There’s his head, and his two legs.”

“Where are the other two?” She asked, and he laughed. 

“Probably hiding. Or maybe he’s just got the two.” He shrugged. When Gwen focused she could see the shape that he was pointing out, and though this wasn’t one of the ones her mother had taught her, she’d try to watch for it, now. He points again and shows her Lyra, which was one of the one’s she’d been looking for, though she hadn’t called it by that name. Her mother had shown it to her, the musician’s constellation.

“My mother told me the story of that one, when I was young.” 

“Did she? I think every culture tells it a little differently. What did she say?” 

Gwen settles in, turning her body unconsciously to face him while she kept her face turned toward the sky. “There was once a girl who sang and played so beautifully, that she was the envy of all the five kingdoms. She traveled for miles and miles to bring her music to new places, and to bring joy to the people she met. But one day, a man was jealous of the power she had, and he slew her, and broke her instrument. The gods were so displeased that they sent wild dogs to attack him and tear him to pieces, but they never touched the girl’s body. She was found by the townspeople, who loved her music so much they buried her with a brand new lute so she could sing and play in the afterlife. The gods immortalized her in the stars, and she watches over musicians who travel alone.” 

Merlin laughed, turning to face her, despite the hard ground beneath him. “I’ve never heard that version.”

“My father used to tell my mother not to make up stories, so it’s possible she just made it up.” Gwen smiled, but it wasn’t nearly so joyous as Merlin’s as the weight of memories pressed in on her. “She never went to school, or had tutors, but she was a very smart woman. She always told the best stories.”

“You may have inherited her gift.” Merlin tucks a stray hair back into her cap and lays a soft kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight Gwen.” 

She’s so flushed by the action that she stays frozen there for a time. When her senses finally return to her she turns away from him, completely lost for words at his actions. They weren’t family, and they were barely friends. It was totally inappropriate to kiss her. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe this was a mistake. The anxiety of that thought made her wake several times in the night, and she could never seem to get back to sleep peacefully. 

In the morning, she finds the grass wet with dew, and she takes heed of Merlin’s warning not to get her blankets wet. She puts on the same dress she’d worn yesterday, since the traveling dresses wouldn’t quite fit her, and for the sake of her modesty didn’t change her chemise. She’d change when they returned home. 

Home. Well, not home for long, was it? They’d pack up the few things Gwen had, she’d say goodbye today, and they’d likely be on the road again tomorrow. That wouldn’t give her enough time to mend her dresses…

“Come along, Gwen, we’re losing daylight.” 

It was just past first light, but sure, they were losing daylight. 

Merlin gave her a helping of bread and cheese and an apple for breakfast, and they ate while they packed up camp. Gwen was glad that she had her own horse to pack, and that she’d likely be able to decide where everything went and how to organize it without having to deal with Merlin’s input. She’s spent years having to cater to what Father and Elyan liked best in the house, and this space would be just for her. 

Well, at least that was one good thing to come from her brother selling her off to a wizard he met in the forest once. 

She sighed at herself and tightened the clasp of her saddlebag too much in her frustration. Elyan wasn’t selling her. No money was exchanging hands. Essentially, she was going to work for Merlin. She’d even make a small wage. Not much, but with her room and board covered by Merlin, she wouldn’t need much. Just maybe to have for emergencies, and to keep her wardrobe up to date.

She’d already tried to talk him into considering everything he bought her yesterday a loan, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Called it part of the favor he was doing for Elyan. She couldn’t begrudge his logic, because she couldn’t have afforded half the supplies she needed without his help, but she still wished he’d let her pay him back.

Well, her gratitude would just have to come out in the work she did. Gwen was no stranger to hard work, and she’d do the best she could for Merlin, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what exactly he needed her for.

——

They’d been living and traveling together for several months, now. Gwen had a routine, all her supplies fit, and she enjoyed the work. She liked to think that she was picking up medicine quickly. Plus, being able to help people, attend to their needs and make them feel better was fulfilling.

They were just about to set out to help a pregnant woman give birth when Merlin surprises her. 

“I’ve been thinking I’d like you to train as a midwife.” He doesn’t even look in her direction, just continues saddling his horse. “I’ve found women are much more responsive when it’s other women helping them through the birth. What do you think?” 

Now he looks up at her, piercing blue eyes curious, but unwavering. He wanted her to do this. Really. 

“I mean- I would- I think that would be great.” Gwen didn’t have much understanding of what a midwife did. She’d never had occasion to know more than the basics about childbirth. This would be only the second birth she was present for, aside from her own, but Gwen imagined that it would be a bit uncomfortable to have a man poking around down there who wasn’t your husband. 

Merlin smiles at her, bright and warm. “Good. There’ll be a midwife in attendance today. I’m mostly going in case bleeding gets out of control or there’s something wrong with the baby. Young mothers.” He shrugged, and she couldn’t tell what the look of disapproval was on his face. “There can be complications, but she’s married, and it’s all above board, and so, we’ll be seeing to her.” 

Ahh. He thinks the girl was too young to be married. She can see it in the way his shoulders are stiffening and his movements are a little more jerky than is normal for him. 

“How old is she?” Gwen asked, and Merlin has to pause a moment before he answers.

“15.” 

“And the husband?” Gwen hates to ask, but she needs to know what she’s walking into.

“26.” 

Gods, that’s older than Elyan. Imagine Elyan being married to a 15 year old girl. She shook her head, thanking the gods once again that Elyan hadn’t forced her to marry. And Gwen was 18. 

“I can’t do anything to help her.” Merlin said quietly, and Gwen looked over her horse at him. “But we’ll do what we can to make the birth easy. The midwife will be inside with her, and probably the girls’ mother. Between the three of you, she should have everything she needs.”

Gwen nods and mounts her horse, bags packed and ready to go.

—

It takes a year for Gwen to be trained enough as a midwife to attend births on her own. And “on her own” actually means with Merlin attending along side her, but their services count as one fee, and so for families with less money, it’s much more affordable to have Gwen there than an more qualified midwife. And Merlin is there to answer questions if she needs any help. 

Merlin is very encouraging, and Gwen does very well for being so new. Merlin tells her she’s a natural with patients, and Gwen is inclined to believe him. 

She likes helping with babies, though it does make her very glad she doesn’t have to have one anytime in the near future. Cleaning them up and handing them off to their mother for the first time is a always a joy. Watching a mum and dad coo over their new little baby. It really made this job feel worth it. 

It’s birthing season, lots of babies this time of year, and this is their third birth this month. As eager as Merlin was to have Gwen trained as a midwife, she thinks that Merlin prefers these sorts of calls to the ones where they’re tending the injured. The eldest daughter of the household had offered them each a mug of warm cider and a sweet roll while they waited for the mother to finish the first feed, for Merlin to give her and the baby a last check to make sure everything was going to heal alright and the baby was as healthy as could be. 

“Do you two have any children?” The eldest daughter asked. Sigrid, Gwen thinks her name is. The birth was early, the baby crowning when they got there, so she hadn’t had much of an introduction. 

“No,” Merlin answered easily, not an ounce of unease in his tone. She doesn’t know how he can say that so easily. She always feels awkward anytime anyone assumes they’re married. Gwen does wear a ring on her finger like they’re married, but that’s mostly for appearances sake. 

As Merlin has grown more and more dear to her over the year, the question has only become more awkward, more intrusive. And Gwen always felt powerless beneath it.

Because there’s no hint of briskness in Merlin’s tone, the girl doesn’t catch on that these are questions better left unasked and presses on. “Any plans to?” 

Gwen had liked the girl, really she had, until she started asking these sorts of prying questions that were honestly better left unspoken. 

“It’s a sore subject,” Merlin took a sip of his cider and reached across the table to squeeze Gwen’s hand and break the building tension inside her. 

The girl looks away then. The implication is that they have tried, and could not, which would be hard to discuss for anyone. The girl gets up and busies herself tidying the already immaculate kitchen, but Gwen is just relieved not to be in her company any longer. She sends Merlin a grateful smile and he returns it easily. 

A few minutes later, the husband comes out and lets them know that the wife and baby are ready for their last check in. Gwen sees to the wife while Merlin looks over the baby. She sees him slip a drop of the potion he gave most babies to stave off sickness, but the wife is listening to her explain next steps for her recovery that she probably knows all too well. 

The woman seems surprised when she recommends abstention from “wifely duties,” with the implication being sex specifically, for at least a month, preferably longer. Gwen only nods and assures her that yes, she really does mean a month. 

And by the time everything is done and she and Merlin are packed, it’s only barely past noon. They accept a bit of food for the journey home, the small amount of pay Merlin takes for births, and they head back home. The ride should only be a few hours, and they can make it back easily before nightfall. This time of year the roads are well kept, and the traveling is pleasant. Gwen never used to move around this much before she met Merlin. It was… really refreshing. 

So was Merlin’s company. He was just so much more accepting than most people she knew. Growing up in a small village, the blacksmith’s daughter, she’d been fairly sheltered. And even after her Father died, Elyan was always there to scare off anyone who even thought twice about Gwen (right up until he’d decided it was time to marry her off). 

So this feeling she had for Merlin, whatever it was, was strange and new and left her stomach dancing in a way that was unpleasant to experience, but still somehow made her smile. She was afraid to call it what it might be, and so she didn’t. She just enjoyed herself as best she could. 

They pass a mother duck and her little ducklings that make Gwen laugh and smile. Merlin smiles as well, but he’s not nearly so amused. Mostly thoughtful. 

“Would you?” He asks her, while he’s still looking at the ducklings. He even turns back to watch them once they ride past, which Gwen finds just as strange as his incomplete question.

“Would I what?” Her lip quirked up at one corner, watching Merlin like she was afraid he’d lost his marbles. 

“Like to have kids one day.” 

She and Merlin have had a lot of very awkward conversations in the year and a half that she has been his assistant. There was the time she’d bled through her dress in the night and had to explain why she so desperately needed to find somewhere private to change and clean up. Then there was the incident where she’d had to establish that, yes, she did still want Merlin to not look at her while she changed, even though they’d been living together in a one room hut for a year. And they’d even had a frank talk about self-stimulation in men shortly after a visit with a patient where they’d walked in on something that left Gwen a little shaken. 

Somehow, Merlin asking her if she wanted kids felt worse than all those conversations combined. 

It wasn’t, it just felt worse, Gwen knew. She was making a bigger deal out of it than she needed to.

“Right now? Not particularly. I’m only 20. I’ve years to think about it.” Gwen was proud of how she managed to keep her tone even. Maybe she was learning more from Merlin than just medicine. 

Merlin nodded keeping his eyes firmly ahead. “I’m sure you do.” 

Gwen thinks maybe the conversation will end there, but it doesn’t.

“If that were something you wanted, you would have to find it elsewhere. Not that I don’t love children, I just… don’t have any interest in having them. Or in having any kind of relationship that would lead to them.” 

Gwen suddenly feels very put on the spot. She doesn’t look at Merlin, and the way her whole body tightens, trying to reel herself in, accidentally signals the horse to go faster. It looks like she’s running off.

Well, maybe she is. Maybe she should. What a strange and terrible thing to say to her.

“My brother made it very clear that there was nothing like that between us.” Gwen holds her head high, even though her chest is tight and her throat is aching with a desire either to scream or sob.

“I know. But… I know these things sometimes happen. I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.” He sounds a bit contrite, at least. 

“You think very highly of yourself, Merlin.” Her tone is harsh, making it very clear that she is insulting him. 

He doesn’t speak again, seeing that the battle is lost, and they ride most of the way back in silence.

When they arrive back at home, Gwen doesn’t ask Merlin if anything needs doing. She goes straight to the back, fetches her thimble and her sewing, and starts work on her embroidery. Elyan was due for a visit in a months time, and she’d wanted to give him a little handkerchief with his initials stitched on it on the finest piece of fabric she could afford. It also served as a distraction from Merlin, the man who acts too cool to care right up until he puts a foot in his mouth.

Even with the thimble, she stabs herself a few times, and she has to stop once, to staunch the blood flow on the underside of her apron before she continues. She can hear Merlin puttering around with his potions and his tinctures on the other side of the house, but she doesn’t pay him any mind, just like he doesn’t pay her mind. 

They don’t speak again till supper.

Gwen cooks, as she always does. Merlin can cook, but it’s mediocre, and Gwen has no patience for subpar food. He’d complained more than once that she was trying to make him fat, but she’d just tell him to do more hard labor. It always evened out for Elyan and her father, at least. 

There’s no remark about Gwen trying to fatten Merlin up, or even a lighthearted comparison of Gwen’s cooking to another place or time in Merlin’s life. They eat quietly, but just for a few minutes, before Merlin feels the need to speak. 

“I didn’t mean anything by what I said earlier. I really did just want to make sure we were on the same page.” 

“Yes, and you made yourself very clear.” Gwen muttered, stabbing a piece of a potato more harshly than she meant to, cutting it clean in half. 

“I only meant. I can’t love, Guinevere.” 

She hates when people use her full name. None the less, it catches her attention. “What do you mean, ‘you can’t love?’” It was the stupidest, strangest,  vaguest confession she’d ever heard. Gwen had watched Merlin fight tooth and nail for the lives of his patients, spend hours upon hours developing remedies, and secreting magic just beneath the noses of common people to cure their sicknesses. 

What part of that wasn’t love? 

“I mean that… I mean, well, I do love you. But I love you like a very dear friend. I’m not capable of anything else. I can’t love a woman like a man might love his wife.” 

She raises her eyebrows, thinking, and then her mouth pops open. “Oh.”

Suddenly, his bachelorhood well into his twenties, despite being more than capable of supporting a family, made much more sense. 

She paused, trying to find the right words to say what she wanted to say, trying to be delicate. “You… prefer the company of men?” It’s a question, and she’s not sure how he’ll take it, but she feels like she has to ask. 

He smiled, but his eyes don’t meet hers, and the corners of them stay turned down, sad and wary. 

“I don’t prefer any company at all.” He shrugs, and his lips are thin, tight, like he’s waiting for some sort of rejection.

It’s hard for Gwen to imagine that he simply doesn’t love, but she does believe him. She nods her head and puts her hand on his, much like he had done to her earlier that day. It has the desired effect, draws him out of his thoughts, his eyes back on her. “I understand.” 

He still looks so sad though. 

Gwen doesn’t push it. She retrieves her hand and goes back to her supper, giving Merlin the opportunity to do the same and put the whole thing behind them.

She’s had many awkward conversations with Merlin, and will likely have many more as his assistant, but there was one thing she could say for these talks. Eventually, slowly, they learned and grew from them. In the end, their friendship was stronger for having spoken than it would have been otherwise.

—

One of the reasons Gwen likes Merlin is that he always asks for her opinion. Anytime something affects both of them, he takes what she will think into consideration. This is especially true when a messenger rides in one evening and asks Merlin to go to Camelot proper to try and heal the King’s ward. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Merlin asks while Gwen hangs back, images of men in Camelot red glimpsed through trees, of blood on dirt floors and Elyan’s broken ankle coming to the forefront of her mind, more prevalent than the scene actually playing out in front of her.

“She won’t eat, isn’t sleeping well. They’ve had to force feed her, but she’s withering away still. No energy to get out of bed. Her parents died just a few months ago. The physician on hand couldn’t find anything wrong with her physically, but the King refuses to accept that. He’s looking for second opinions.”

“Camelot is a far ride.” When he says this, he glances back at Gwen, though she doesn’t see him. She’s chewing the extra length of her fingernail off, eyes focused somewhere Merlin can’t see but knows all too well. 

“The king will provide you with money and protection for your travels.” The messenger doesn’t even spare a glance for Gwen, and Merlin is grateful for that. She didn’t need any more stress than she probably already had. 

Even though the messenger doesn’t look her way, Merlin takes a step or two subtly to the right, so that the messengers gaze moves completely away from Gwen when he looks at Merlin. 

“Let me think it over. There’s a woman who houses people for just a few coins down the road. See about getting yourself a room for the night and I’ll have my decision for you in the morning.” 

“The king will not accept a no.” The messenger said, and Merlin nodded.

“I’ll see.” 

The messenger goes and Gwen’s breaths deepen from the shallow, fearful things they’d been, practically gasping now. Neither of them had expected a Camelot man to knock on their door that evening, and Gwen had already been about to settle into bed. Merlin took her wrist, subtly feeling for the beat of her heart while he lead her to the bed, sitting her down on it gently. 

Gwen looks between Merlin and the door, like she’s afraid of something and Merlin pats her hand before he gets up to bolt it closed. 

“He’ll be back in the morning.” Merlin said with a sigh. “He already knows where we are, so a misdirection spell won’t work. If you don’t want to go, we can pack a few things and go on the road for a few days. He’ll give up looking for us eventually.”  Merlin went through his potions, looking for the calming draught he sometimes gave her.

“If I don’t want to go?” Gwen asked, looking at Merlin like he’d grown a second head.

He looked over his shoulder at her, brows furrowed. “The man killed your father, Gwen. I’m hardly going to force you to service his ward. It’s your decision.” 

“My decision?” This is a question, but it’s not one she’s posing to him. When he returns with her calming drought, mixed into a cup of cider, she’s looking at a blank spot on the floor, but seeing nothing he can see. 

He sits beside her and presses the cup into her hands, muttering a quick warming spell so it’d be more comforting. 

“Merlin?” She asked when she’s held the cup for several minutes without taking a drink from it. 

“Yes?”

“If we don’t go, that girl will die, won’t she?” Her eyes finally meet his, and he is moved by the determination beneath her own uncertainty. 

He tries to ease her mind a bit, “It’s possible that someone else will find a cure for what ails her.”

“But it’s not certain.”

“No.” Merlin nodded, “But it’s not certain that I will be able to heal her either.” 

“But you have a better chance than anyone else, because you cheat.” The last bit is teasing, more light hearted than anything that has happened in the house since the messenger walked in. 

“I maintain that using magic is just taking advantage of all my resources, not cheating.” He bumps her shoulder with his and she smiles for the first time since the knock had come upon their door. 

“You can keep saying it, but that doesn’t make it true.” Her gaze fixes on the a spot on the floor again, and Merlin sits quietly, waiting for her verdict. 

Eventually she nods and turns her head up, squaring her shoulder like she’s bracing herself for her own decision. “If we don’t go, and she dies, I’ll never be able to live with myself.” She nods, but this is most certainly reassurance for herself, because she doesn’t even look at Merlin. “We’ll go, and you’ll do the best you can for her. I hate Uther, but that doesn’t mean his ward deserves any less than anyone else.” 

Merlin grins and pulls his friend into a hug. “You’re one of the strongest, bravest women I have ever known.” 

She laughed. “You’re just saying that because you don’t know very many women.” 

“I know plenty of women. Great women. It’s a very high compliment.” His tone is earnest, sincere, when he says this, and he feels Gwen clutch him a bit harder, making the hug more firm. 

“Thank you.” 

“It will be okay. I’ll make sure you never have to see him.” 

“You can’t promise that.” She said, rolling her eyes at him to keep herself from being scared again.

“Well, I can promise I’ll do my best.” He kissed the top of her head, just like that first night almost two years ago now. “Get ready for bed. I’ll settle the house for the night. You’ll need your rest.” 

Gwen nods and Merlin gets up to put out the candles in the main room and close all the windows up for the night. 

Merlin always gives her a choice, always listens to what she has to say, and she appreciates that so much. 

—

In the morning they set off, Merlin packing much like he would to go to a house call for an unknown ailment. He takes nearly everything with him that he can, putting some of the overflow in Gwen’s bag and leaving some of their traveling gear in the care of their messenger, now turned guide. The man’s Camelot red is much more brilliant in the light, and Gwen is grateful for the spell Merlin does to make her horse follow his. She looks just slightly away from the path in front of her, where Merlin rides alongside the messenger she now knows to be a knight, and tries not to think about where they are going or whose company they may soon be in. 

They make quick time to Camelot’s castle, and true to his word, Merlin tells the knight to show Gwen to their accommodations for the short time they’ll be there, rather than bringing her with him to see the king. Gwen doesn’t think that Merlin is particularly fond of Uther either, considering his magic ban is what keeps Merlin from practicing openly, but he never gives any sort of indication of it. Just smiles and leaves her and the knight with their things to make their introductions. 

It is much more difficult to follow the knight on her own two feet, especially laden down as she is with equipment and supplies. The way the red cape flows behind him reminds her too much of a party of knights glimpsed through woods when she was just 15. 

The knight is nice, at least. Tries to make small talk and be kind to a woman who is so obviously afraid of him. She does him the courteousy of at least looking up at him to thank him for helping her with her things and showing her to the room. He bows to her, and she is struck by the gesture. Being the supposed wife of a physician did leave her in a higher class than a simple servant, or blacksmith’s daughter, but she hardly earned such a show of deference. He leaves and only says, “I’m Sir Leon, if you require anything else.” 

She doesn’t plan to require anything.

In their room, an empty space in the servant’s quarters with only one bed, Gwen unpacks Merlin’s medicines and supplies from their careful travel wrappings and puts them back in the order that she knows he prefers them for treatments. As she’s sorting through the bottles of potion, she notices that some of them are ones she’s never seen before, or only seen once or twice. When Merlin had said he was bringing everything, he’d really meant everything. 

“There you are.” Merlin said from the door well after Gwen had finished organizing their things. “Let’s go and meet our new patient, shall we?” 

They don’t actually meet their new patient first. At the door, waiting for them, is the crown prince, Arthur Pendragon. Gwen had heard a few snippets about the prince, but she’d never thought she’d meet him. At first glance, he came off very unkind and almost brusk, but it took only a few questions from Merlin about Morgana’s condition to realize that his standoffishness was born from worry. He cared about Morgana, and he was concerned for her wellbeing. Of course he was a little bit harsh. 

Gwen stood by and listened while Merlin asked questions, getting more and more specific. Asking about her loss, asking if there were anything else that she might be upset about. Arthur tells him that previous doctors have determined it must be mind sickness, and Merlin confirms that this is his theory as well, just based on the symptoms that he’s heard. 

Gwen and Merlin go in behind Arthur, but the Crown Prince stands to the side and lets them work. Gwen sets out one of Merlin’s bags on the bench at the foot of the bed, and Merlin sets his own carelessly aside, choosing instead to go through the contents Gwen has placed. Merlin has his back to the Arthur, so he doesn’t see the flash of gold in Merlin’s eyes, a part of his regular examinations, but Gwen does. He nods his head while he’s looking through the potion bottles and he reaches for one that Gwen has never seen him use. It’s a soft purple color, clear with a few small flowers suspended in it. 

“Take this.” He says to Morgana while the woman looks off in the distance, like she can’t even be bothered to focus on what’s being said.

Merlin’s beside manner is never usually this curt, and Gwen huffs a bit at him before taking the potion from his hand and setting it on the nightstand. Whatever it is, he thinks that it will cure her, and Gwen will make sure she gets it. 

“He looks very young, doesn’t he?” Gwen asks. It’s a problem they’ve faced before, where people who didn’t know Merlin worried about his skill, and so she tried to reassure her, smoothing a strand of hair that was very nearly falling into her eye away from her face. “He is, but he is very knowledgeable. Studied with all the best physicians in the five kingdoms.” Gwen smiles softly, her tone gentle and calming. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” She takes Morgana’s hand and after a few idle seconds, she squeezes it. Morgana squeezes back and Gwen smiles. “Good. I’m Guinevere, Merlin’s assistant. We need to sit you up so you can take the medicine Merlin has for you. Do you mind if I help you sit up?” 

Morgana says nothing, and Gwen frowns, tilting her head like she’s thinking, the funny little wrinkle forming between her brows that Merlin finds such delight in. 

“Squeeze my hand if it’s okay for me to help you sit up.” She tries again. There is a little delay between her question and the responding squeeze, but once she has her permission, Gwen helps Morgana sit up in bed, careful to leave the sheet covering her from her chest down, since it looks like she’s only in her chemise. The crown prince moves to adjust her pillows and she smiles gratefully at him, trying to be reassuring in the same glance, but his eyes stay hard and untrusting.

According to the prince, a dozen physicians had been to see her already, and none had any effect. It only made sense that he was starting to lose hope. 

“There, now. I’m going to give you the medicine. Drink it if you can.” She puts the bottle to her lips, and when they part, Gwen carefully tilts the bottle, letting the contents drip slowly into her mouth.

The bottle empties relatively quickly, and Gwen lets Morgana relax. Maybe it was because she was sitting up, or maybe Merlin’s potion was already working, but Gwen could swear some of the pallidness of her cheeks was starting to fade, and a bit of rose was returning to her lips. 

“What did you give her?” Arthur asks Merlin, who is still much less receptive and kind than he usually is. Gwen finds it strange, but she’ll ask him about it later.

“Something to ease the mindsickness. It won’t cure it. Nothing will cure it but time, but the symptoms, the body ache, the lack of drive and appetite, will all be decreased, maybe even vanish if she takes to it well.”

“You are not the first man to give her something meant to cure mind sickness. What will you do if it doesn’t work?” Arthur’s tone is accusatory, and Gwen bites her tongue. He is worried for Morgana, and she can excuse his brashness because of that, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. 

“It will work.” Is all Merlin says, and Gwen can hardly believe that he’s being so dismissive to a royal. Of course, Merlin has always been a little funny. What else did she expect? 

“It’d better. You’re dismissed.” Arthur returns to Morgana’s side and Gwen puts the empty bottle back in the place it had come from, taking the bag of potions with her as she and Merlin leave.

In their room, with the door shut, Gwen dares to ask Merlin what he’s given her.

“It’s safe.” He said dismissively, rather than explaining himself, and this was the first clue Gwen had that something was suspicious about this remedy.

“Of course it’s safe.” Gwen said while unpacking the two extra dresses she had brought and hanging them in the wardrobe to be ironed later. She also hung up Merlin’s two sets of clothes, but he’d have to iron those himself. “But that isn’t what I asked. You examined her. What was wrong?”

“Mindsickness, just like I said. The potion will counteract the worst of it, and she should be back to herself in a couple days.” 

“You’re not worried someone will be suspicious of her being better so quickly?” 

“She won’t be better, not really. The symptoms will just be gone.” 

Gwen looks at Merlin, who pretends to be sorting through his potions. He’s hiding something, and she doesn’t know what, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.