#hey mare want me to comb your hair

[elytrafemme]

have adopted this very weird pattern of random guys i am not close to (like always friends-with-friends or classmates) making comments about my hair or playing with it? and like yeah my hair is pretty but boy what do you want from it it’s just kinda there. strange shit 

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Coffee of the Week

Summary: So watched Mare of Easttown and it’s so good! And Evan peters character is so cute I just had to write something for him!! So in the second episode he said that he gets coffee every morning so I was thinking like what if he goes to the same shop everyday, cause the reader works there and he has a crush on her! But he’s too shy to admit it, but she makes the first move and he’s like a mess

Word Count: 2343

Easttown was a very small knit community, everyone knew everyone, there wasn’t a face you couldn’t recognize. So it created quite the talk when everyone heard that a new detective from out of town was coming down. You worked at the local coffee shop, there were a few others, chain stores, but most people in town preferred the comfort of your locally owned one. You had heard all about this new detective from the high school girls that came in after school. They gushed about how good looking he was, and how charming he was, even some of the older women that came in seemed to be infatuated with him.

You had yet to meet him but he was still on your mind as you drove to your shop. There wasn’t much drama in Easttown so of course a handsome detective piqued your interest. You hadn’t even turned on the lights when you saw someone standing outside the shop peering in. You gave him a curious gaze, he gave you a wide smile, waving at you.

You made your way over to the door and unlocked it, peeking your head out. It was dark out so you couldn’t really make out his features. “Sorry we don’t open until 7.”

“Aw, I was hoping to get a quick coffee before work. I heard this was the best shop in town.” You chucked at his comment.

“Okay come in, I’ll make you one real quick.”

“Really?” He asked excitedly.

“Yeah come in.” You opened the door wider and he stepped through. You made your way back over to the counter and flipped on the lights. “What do you want?”

He looked over your menu, scanning each of the drinks briefly. He glanced over at the chalk board that had coffee of the week scribbled at the top. He nodded his head towards it. “What’s the deal of the week?”

“Nothing yet, I usually come up with something around now but I had a little interruption this morning.” You joked, side eyeing him.

“Sorry.”

“I’m just messing with you.” He smiled at your words. “So what do you wanna drink this morning?” You asked again.

“Surprise me.” You laughed and rolled your eyes. You got to work and made small talk with him in between. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Yeah I’m new, I came down to help Mare out with a case.”

You looked at him over your shoulder giving him a sly smirk. “Ohhh so you’re the devilishly handsome detective everyone’s been gossiping about.”

He blushed at your words, rubbing the nape of his neck in embarrassment. “Well I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh I would.” You teased as you finished up his drink. “You’re the talk of the town. All the women are raving about you.” You popped the lid on his drink and made your way back over to the counter. You looked him over from head to toe. He was very cute, in his long blue coat, and his perfectly combed hair. “And now that I’ve finally met you I can say that I agree with them.”

He turned into a blushing mess at your words. “I-I well, thank you.” He stuttered out. You handed him his coffee, your fingers brushing against his. He took it with a gracious smile and set down his drink to take out his wallet. “What do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

“No really I-“

“It’s in the house, don’t try and fight me on it you’ll never win.” You said leaning back on the counter arms crossed. He laughed, face crinkling up, dimples showing, you felt yourself turn a little red at the sight.

“Thanks.” He said making his way to the door, he looked at you, silently asking your name.

“I’m (y/n), (y/n (y/l/n).”

“Thank you (y/n).” He said gesturing towards the cup.

“I hope to see you around detective...”

“Colin, Colin Zabel.” He said, mimicking your introduction. You waved at him as he exited your shop. You suddenly had an idea for the coffee of the week. 

The next day Colin was back at exactly the same time. Right when you got to work, before you even turned the lights on, and before you even opened. He watched as you moved around the shop before coming over to unlock the door for him. He smiled at you and you returned it. He looked around the shop while you finished setting up.

It was cute, very old fashioned, it had that hometown feel like everything did in Easttown. There were these watercolor paintings hanging on the walls, of flowers and landscapes. He wondered if you were the one who had painted them. He glanced back at the chalkboard and noticed there was a special written down today. It read Coffee of the Week, The Colin Zabel. He felt his face heat up at reading the name. He cleared his throat and leaned forward on the counter. “You named the coffee of the week after me?”

“Yeah.” You admitted with a soft laugh. “It’s the best selling one so far. All the women and girls that have come in have bought it and absolutely love the way it tastes.”  He blushed even more at your words. But he didn’t read into what you were saying, he figured you named it after him because the coffee you had made for him was so good. It was a regular coffee, with two sugars, a splash of milk, a hazelnut creamer and a load of whip cream. You had even stirred in some honey.

While he was lost in thought you had finished up his drink and placed it in front of him. “Here you go, one Colin Zabel on the house. And a scone!” 

“I can’t-” He tried protesting again. 

“Yes you can.” You smiled warmly at him. “The drink you inspired has been bringing in tons of business lately.” 

Colin took out his wallet anyway and placed a $20 bill into your tip jar. You went to fish it out and hand it back to him but he placed his hand over yours, stopping you. “Please take it.” He shyly smiled at you, gently removing his hand from your own. You sighed and nodded your head. His face broke out in a smile. “See you tomorrow!” 

“I’m guessing you mean before I open?” He just winked at you and left. 

For the rest of the day he was grinning ear to ear. When Mare came in she narrowed her eyes at his cheery demeanor. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” 

“Nothing.” Colin said, trying his best to replace his smile with a serious face. Mare gestured to the coffee that was sitting on the corner of his desk along with his half eaten scone. 

“Is that for me?”

“What?” 

“You said you get coffee every morning and said you’d bring me one today.” Mare said as she dropped the stack of papers she was holding onto her desk. 

Colin grimaced, he had totally forgotten he had promised Mare a coffee today. ‘No sorry, I forgot.” 

Mare sighed. “It’s okay, you can just bring me one tomorrow.”

“Or we can go now.”  

“You already have a coffee, why would we go now?” 

“Cause I said I’d get you one.” He said while smiling, hoping Mare wouldn't see his hidden motive of wanting to see you again. Mare just watched him with narrowed eyes trying to figure out what he was after. “Come on.” Colin grabbed his coat that was hanging on the back chair and picked up the keys, jingling them. “I’ll drive.” 

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

“You seem way too eager to be here.” Mare said suspiciously as they parked outside your coffee shop. Colin got out holding the door of your shop open for Mare. She just looked at him. 

“That’s okay I’ll go in first.”

‘You do that.” Mare followed Colin into the shop. It was busy, a stark contrast to the empty place Colin was used to when he came in every morning. You were standing at the counter making orders as your employees shouted them out to you. You finished a couple and called out the names of the people who ordered them, You gave them a sweet smile and looked up to see Mare. 

“Hey Lady Hawk!” She just rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips showed that she wasn’t annoyed with you. You made your way around the counter and over to her. “What an honor it is to have you in my humble establishment.”

“Oh shut up.” You laughed at her response. “I always come here.”

You scoffed at her blatant lie. “You never come here. You always make your own coffee.” You raised an eyebrow at her, “So why are you here?”

“He made me come.” Mare said, jutting her thumb back towards Colin. He had been awkwardly standing to the side watching you guys talk. 

“Hey.”

“Hey Colin. What brings you back here?’

“Back here?” Mare said, turning to look at him. “You’ve already been here today?”

“Well yeah.” He admitted, eyes darting between your curious ones and Mare’s judgmental ones. “But I promised you a coffee.” He finished quickly with a smile. 

Mare looked between you two, noticing the way that Colin nervously fiddled with the car keys. “Oh okay I get it.” She said, head slightly nodding. “I’m going to go wait in the car. I’ll take a coffee with two creams and no sugar.” 

“You got it Mare.” He tossed her the keys, she caught them and was half way out the door when she stopped. She turned back to face him. 

“Colin.” 

“Hm?” 

“Just ask her out already.” 

You felt your face heat up, but it was nothing compared to Colin. His whole face was flushed red, as he tried to dismiss Mare’s comment. “I- she, um.” He let out a nervous laugh. “She’s just messing with me. A little joke between colleagues.” 

“Ah okay.” You said with a little giggle. “Good to know. I’ll get Mare’s coffee, do you want anything?” 

“Actually yeah I was actually wondering if you -'' You looked at him with wide eyes, he felt his heart beating out of his chest. At the last second he abandoned ship and decided against asking you out. “If I can get the special of the week. But only if I can pay for it.” You just nodded and got to work making their coffees, in no time they were done. You passed them to him and he gratefully took them.  The entire time he was internally kicking himself.

“So I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow, unless you plan on coming back again today?”

Colin let out an airy laugh. “Nope. Just the two times today for me.” He said in an embarrassed voice. 

“Gotcha.” 

Colin made his way back to the car and gestured for Mare to unlock the door, he handed her her coffee as he slid back into the driver's seat. ”Why do you have two coffees?” He didn’t answer as he put his seatbelt on. “Did you seriously buy another coffee? You didn't even finish the first one.” 

He sighed, “I know.” 

 “So,” She paused, taking a sip of her coffee. “Did you ask her out?”

“No. I didn’t” He said resting his head down on the steering wheel. “I just panicked and ordered another coffee.” Mare snickered at him. She picked up his coffee cup examining it. 

“Well it looks like they took the first step for you.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“She wrote her number on the cup.” Colin yanked the cup form Mare, sure enough there was your phone number scribbled in sharpie on the side of his cup. His face split in a wide smile. Mare watched him glance back at your number and his phone the entire ride back to the station, as if willing it to ring, even though you didn't even have his number. 

It had been an hour or so since they had gotten back to the station. Mare looked at Colin over the top of her report. “You should call them.” 

“I will.” 

“Oh yeah, like you said you were going to ask them out.” Mare snorted from her desk. 

“I never said I was going to ask them out, you said I should.” Mare just shrugged. 

Colin spent the rest of the work day just staring at your number and going to pick up his phone before deciding against it and looking through more of his work papers. By the end of the day Mare had had enough. She pushed her chair over to his and yanked his phone off his desk. 

“What are you doing?”

“Shhh!” She hushed him and she quickly dialed a number and pressed the phone to her ear, waiting for the ringing to stop. “Hey (Y/n). His eyes widened, he tried to get his phone back from Mare, but she just pushed off his desk and wheeled back to her desk. “Yeah, yeah I’m calling from Colin’s phone.” He quickly stood up and made his way over to her desk, she kept pushing him off as he continued to reach for the phone. “He would like to know if you would like to go out with him this weekend. Mhmmm, hm, sounds good.” Mare covered the phone. “She said yes, you can pick her up at eight Friday night.” 

“Give me that!” 

You did your best to hide your laughter, you could hear them quietly arguing over the phone in hushed whispers. “Hello?” You finally heard Colin’s voice, you figured he had won the phone back from Mare. 

“Hey. So are we on for Friday at eight?”

“Of course.”

“Okay then, see you soon Detective.” 

“Okay bye!” Colin hung up the phone and sat back in his chair, smiling up at the ceiling. Mare glanced over at him, hiding her own small smile. 

“You’re welcome.” He just glared at her and she let out a laugh at his expense.

[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.

[r-ray]

Headcanon: Merlin can communicate with animals, including horses. It often comes in handy, because horses are quite intelligent and have great sense of smell, so they notice things that people don’t. For example, they can sense if someone is afraid, or ready to attack... Or desires someone.

Of course, Camelot’s horses adore Merlin. His own and Arthur’s especially. Besides, the two mares - Rista and Gwynon - are very fond of each other. And they definitely can smell Arthur’s and Merlin’s feelings. They constantly try to push Merlin to act on it, but he thinks that they simply confuse friendship for something else (after all, even with all their intelligence, the horses are not people. They can’t just explain to Merlin in what tone Arthur talks about him, when he sneaks to stables to feed them apples. And how damn often). So they try to set up situations to push those two dumb humans towards each other. For example, Arthur’s mare fakes sore ankle, so Arthur has to ride with Merlin in his saddle; and then there was that patrol when Merlin’s horse decided to ride belly-deep in river, so that Merlin had to take off his clothes to dry them... 

And nothing works. The horses can’t comprehend it: why their riders won’t just nuzzle each other’s necks for a few minutes, when they’re tired or sad? It makes everything better, honestly, Merlin! Look at us and follow the lead!

But, apparently, humans are not so smart, even those that speak animal languages. So the mares keep coming up with new ideas (nuzzling each other’s necks a lot, because it does make life much better), Merlin keeps ignoring their nudges, and Arthur keeps whining to them about what a horrible servant Merlin is... While smelling all forlorn and longing.

Until one day Arthur and Merlin go hunting, and bandits attack them. They manage to escape, but Merlin’s horse is stolen. The reasonable thing to do is to return to Camelot, but Arthur feels sorry for the horse (she saved Merlin’s life more than once, and is generally a sweet and friendly creature), so he decides that they have to try to take her back. They manage to do it, but Merlin uses magic to fight one of the bandits and Arthur sees it...

After big and ugly scandal Arthur forbids Merlin to return to Camelot and tries to leave. Except that his horse refuses to move. Merlin rolls his eyes and tells Arthur to take his mare as well, because Arthur’s horse won’t go without her (and technically she’s Camelot’s horse, but obviously Arthur decided to forget it for the sake of his dramatic leave). Arthur thinks that Merlin’s gone mad, but tries to do as he told... But now both horses refuse to move.

“Go,” Merlin says, looking at his horse. “I’ll be all right.”

The horse neighs indignantly.

“And what did you expect?!” Merlin flings up his hands. “Magic is forbidden in Camelot! Of course he banishes me!”

The both horses give him a series of snorts.

“Oh for god’s... Stop your meddling, it doesn’t help! Mind your own business, you two!”

“Have you gone mad, Merlin?” Arthur intervenes.

“No, I haven’t,” Merlin snorts, not so different from his mare.

“Because it looks like you’re talking to horses,” Arthur spells.

“I do talk to the horses,” Merlin sighs. “They refuse to return to Camelot until we talk.”

Despite Arthur’s indignation and Merlin’s admonitions, Arthur’d have better chance at returning on a wooden horse than on his own. So he has to stay the night. At first the evening is grim and heavy with their silence, but then Arthur’s curiosity gets the best of him and he starts asking how did it happen that horses have some opinion on what their riders should do. Merlin answers eagerly and cautiously at the same time, afraid to hope, and Arthur feels that Merlin is hiding something.

After a restless night, when neither of them gets much sleep, listening to each other’s breathing and tossing and turning on their bedrolls, Arthur comes to his senses. He realizes that he’s not as angry with Merlin’s magic as with the lies, and he keeps hearing his bitter words: “What did you expect?! Of course he banishes me!”

Can he really blame Merlin for keeping secrets? Isn’t it his own fault, that after all these years Merlin couldn’t trust him?

So when the sun rises and Merlin gets up to prepare some breakfast, Arthur calls him: “Merlin”.

“Yes?“

“Prepare the horses. We better head back to Camelot, before Leon sends a search party”.

“W...” Merlin utters, but halts himself abruptly; his eyes are hopeful and red from the lack of sleep. Arthur can read the word from his lips though. We?

He nods, not trusting himself to say anything. He’s still angry, but thinking about how he would have banished Merlin and never saw him again... He knows very well that he would hate himself and his whole life after one day without Merlin, but it would have been too late.

They ride the whole day, the horses are somewhat fretful, but obedient. They don’t talk much, but the tension slowly drains out, leaving them both just tired and sorry. 

Arthur thinks that the horses look at them disapprovingly.

Yet, he’s grateful to them. So in the evening, when Merlin busies himself with cleaning the cauldron, he gets up and wanders off to where they are plucking the leaves from a blackthorn shrub. 

The mares eye him skeptically, and he eyes them suspiciously in response. But when he raises his palm and begins to reluctantly comb their manes, they give up and snort in his hair gently.

For all the spirits of lands and waters, the man needs someone to snort in his hair.

He pats their necks and shoulders, then sighs and asks, not really expecting them to respond in any way - after all, he’s not a sorcerer: “What was that about meddling?”

The mares look at him carefully. Then at each other. This human can’t understand our language, but maybe?..

Arthur’s horse carefully takes the edge of his sleeve between her teeth and pulls him to face Merlin. Then she gently shoves his shoulder.

“What?..” he looks puzzled. The mare exhales exasperatedly, turns to Merlin’s horse and nuzzles her neck. Then looks at Arthur.

He frowns. “What?”

She shoves him again. Then nuzzles her friend’s neck. And looks at Arthur. 

At the third round he narrows his eyes and glances at Merlin. “Seriously,” he mutters. “You know he’s a servant, right? And I’m the king?”

The horse rolls back her head. He thinks that she’d roll her eyes, if she could.

“He’ll just laugh at me for this!”

Merlin’s mare neighs angrily.

He bites his lip. Horses or not, they stopped him from doing something very stupid.

He looks at them one last time, his eyebrow pinched, and strides to Merlin.

As Merlin rises to his feet, all disheveled and apprehensive, Arthur takes a deep breath and says: “I’m still angry...”

“I know...”

“Shut up, Merlin”.

He does.

“I am still angry,” Arthur warns him, feeling awkward and fluttery in his chest. “For you lying to me all these years”.

Merlin frowns and opens his mouth.

“But,” Arthur hastens to continue, before this idiot says something and breaks Arthur’s resolve, “I understand why you couldn’t tell me the truth. And I’m sorry for that. You were always loyal, and you protected me, even when it was putting you in danger. I... You didn’t deserve to be afraid to tell me.”

Merlin snaps his mouth shut and swallows. Blinks a few times, suspiciously fast, glances away, then pulls on a shaky smile. “Hey, you’ve learned the word ‘sorry’...”

Arthur sighs exasperatedly, shakes his head and pulls Merlin into a hug.

Merlin stands still. It’s strange; he always taunts Arthur with them hugging, no matter that they are, well, a king and a servant, and therefore can’t hug, or shouldn’t, at least; Arthur thought that Merlin would give him some enthusiastic pats, and then would say some stupid joke...

Instead, Merlin places his hands on Arthur’s shoulder blades so carefully as if he’s petting a skittish forest animal, and Arthur can feel the fingers curling in, not quite digging into his cloth, but like... Like he wants to, and stops himself from doing it.

A gentle neighing echoes from the bushes. Arthur swallows, tilts his head and nuzzles into Merlin’s neck. The fingers dig harder, and he can feel Merlin’s breath hitching, and he remembers the real reason he never hugs Merlin.

Because this.

Slowly, like water makes it’s way through the cracks in the stone, Merlin settles in against him. His muscles unwind, his posture loosens, his head nests on Arthur’s shoulder and his breath tickles the skin behind Arthur’s ear. It’s dizzying, and slightly scary, and it’s good to know how it feels, even if they’ll never...

The minutes pass, before Merlin finally pulls away. His hands still linger on Arthur’s shoulders, warming his skin through the clothes.

“I... um... I probably should...” Merlin mutters, not looking at Arthur and nodding vaguely at something that he should, probably, do.

“Yes, of course,” Arthur clears his throat and nods, collecting his thoughts.

Merlin moves around awkwardly, tripping over his own legs and biting his lips. Arthur can’t help but feel wistful. Good to know how it feels. Or maybe it was better not knowing.

He doesn’t notice, too engrossed in his thoughts, that the horses consider him from the bushes. Maybe we were talking to the wrong human. What do you think?

[havenoffandoms]

Hi! A little idea for your requests, if you don’t mind. A Jaskier x Geralt : Jaskier feels finally brave enough to confess his undying love to Geralt but each time he tries, something gets in the way. Yennefer and Ciri support him and even try to help (successfully or not). Fun and fluff please !!! I hope you find the idea interesting~ 🌟

Okay, sooooo I may have got slightly carried away with this idea and I won’t apologise for it. Your idea really inspired me and I think it’s the cutest thing. Jaskier and Geralt are just two idiots in love in this one. There is the slighest bit of angst at the end, but the rest is fun and fluff as you wanted it. I hope I did your request justice. 

Thanks for your ask! Hope you enjoy the read xx

Warning: teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff, mild swearing, smutty references, and mild canon typical violence

1.

Jaskier was known for many things across the Continent – his ballads, his poetry, his many, many conquests that often got him into trouble (and inspired many, many ballads) – but his bravery was certainly not one of them. The bard was painfully aware of this fact, and he thought that joining Geralt on his adventures would somehow remedy this, but he had been wrong. Nonetheless, after nearly twenty years of pining and admiring the Witcher from a distance, Jaskier had decided to tell Geralt how he truly felt about him. No matter the outcome, Jaskier would tell Geralt and finally get this secret off his chest. He needed to know if Geralt felt the same way and he was ready to face the possibility that Geralt only liked him as a friend. Geralt may live for several centuries, but Jaskier did not have nearly as much time left in this life and had to make the most of the time that he had left. Even if it meant spending that time getting over Geralt…

Jaskier had a plan. He would tell Geralt over dinner, the nicest dinner they could afford, which at present consisted of stale bread, meagre pieces of cheese and some fruit that had seen better days but would do just fine. The location would be wherever Geralt decided to stop for the night on their way to Kaer Morhen. They would likely set camp at the edge of the woods (moonlit dinner, anyone?) and probably start a fire for warmth – that classed as romantic, right? Jaskier knew he could not overthink this too much. He did not have the luxury of waiting until they reached a town with a half-decent inn that offered nice (and most importantly cheap) food. He would have to work with what he had, and at the minute all that mattered was that Geralt knew how Jaskier truly felt about him.

They stopped at the edge of the woods, as Jaskier had anticipated, with the added bonus of the mountain range in the distance backdropping their campsite. The bard noticed the white peaks as the sun set just behind the mountains, casting large shadows over the plains that stretched from their current location all the way to the foot of the mountain range. The surroundings looked nothing short of picturesque – not that Geralt, the big oaf, would notice it! He was too busy unsaddling Roach, gathering sticks for the campfire and gathering his dirty clothes from his back before tossing them on the muddy ground for Jaskier to deal with in the morning, as was usually the case. When the bard’s stomach began rumbling loudly, Geralt finally looked up and his amber eyes rested on his travel companion. He looked irritated, as per usual, but there was something else reflected in his cat-like eyes. Concern, perhaps?

“Here,” Geralt said, his voice gruff and raspy and sending shivers down Jaskier’s spine, “eat this.”

Jaskier barely managed to catch the piece of hard bread with his hands. He watched in a panic as Geralt strapped his swords onto his back and readied himself to leave.

“Wha- where are you going, Geralt?”

“Hunt. We need meat to last us the next couple of days on the road,” the witcher answered without looking at him.

“But… when will you be back?” Jaskier asked, trying not to sound as needy as he felt.

“When I’ve caught something, bard,” Geralt huffed before taking off into the woods without as much as a glance over his shoulder. Jaskier was speechless for a while even after Geralt had disappeared into the dark woods.

Son of a bitch!

***

“I think the best way to Geralt’s heart is through Roach,” Ciri told Jaskier over dinner one night. The young heir to Cintra and the bard had both hit it right off when they had met. Ciri enjoyed his ballads and his poetry, and Jaskier loved teaching her about the history of the Continent, algebra and even taught her one or two songs on his lute. The girl was a natural and he felt it would be a shame to let this talent go to waste. Of course the sword training with Geralt and magic lessons with Yennefer were a lot more glamorous, and Jaskier could not hope to compete with that. Yet, Ciri enjoyed the distraction nonetheless and often used her free time to visit Jaskier. She was like the little sister Jaskier had always wanted but never had.

“I don’t see how that’s helpful…,” Jaskier admitted after a minute of considering Ciri’s words.

“Geralt loves Roach. He has a special bond with her, and I think he trusts her instincts about people more than his own. I think if he were to see you bonding with Roach, he would considerably soften around you.”

Jaskier had to admit he had never thought of that before, but it did not sound like the worst idea. The following day, he decided to follow Ciri’s advice and headed to the stables early in the morning to be sure to beat Geralt to the chase. When he arrived near Roach’s stall he noticed that the mare’s ears perked up when she saw him coming. Jaskier made soft clicking noises as he brought his hand to pet her long head. The mare let out a happy snort as she nudged against his hand demanding more pets.

“Hey girl, how are you doing? I know it’s usually Geralt who takes care of you, but today I thought I’d come and say hi myself. You’re awfully more friendly than what Geralt makes you out to be, you know. I always thought the reason I couldn’t ride you was because you’re a temperamental little thing.”

Jaskier chuckled as Roach shook her head and huffed indignantly. The bard looked around the stables and spotted a bucket with brushes, hoof picks and mane combs. Blankets and leading rope hung inside the stall Roach was residing in, right next to her saddle. Jaskier went to grab the bucket and returned to the stall, opening the door gently as to not spook the mare. He entered Roach’s personal space and fished a body brush out of the bucket. He began brushing Roach’s coat, making sure to scrub the sand and dust out of her coarse hair as best as he could. His ministrations seemed to relax the horse judging by her steady heartbeats that Jaskier could feel through her ribcage as he slid his hand along her strong body.

“You know, I never realised how big you actually are, girl. You’re a beautiful girl, aren’t you? And so sweet, too. Your coat is so silky. Geralt takes really good care of you,” Jaskier mused as he worked one side of Roach’s body.

“Of course I do,” a deep voice interrupted Jaskier’s actions and made him jump out of his skin, “Roach works hard when we’re on the road hunting monsters. The very least I can do is make sure she’s as comfortable as possible.” Geralt stared at Jaskier with a half-smile on his lips, his eyes soft as he watched the bard pamper Roach. Jaskier was not used to that kind of expression on the witcher’s face. The last time he had seen such kindness in Geralt’s eyes had been at princess Pavetta’s engagement festivities right after the witcher had saved him from yet another cuckold husband’s ire.

“I… I didn’t hear you come in,” Jaskier said, returning his attention to Roach and willing his racing heart to calm down. Geralt grabbed a second body brush from the bucket and got working on Roach’s coat as well. The mare let out a pleased snort at having both men take care of her.

“You were so lost in your own world that a troll choir could have burst into the stables and would’ve escaped your notice,” Geralt jested, making Jaskier stop in his tracks.

“My, my, Geralt, was this a joke? Who knew witchers have a sense of humour?”

“She likes you, you know?” Geralt commented, ignoring Jaskier’s sarcastic comment. The bard blushed at those words, and he was unsure how to respond.

“I like her, too. Despite her grumpy owner, she’s a surprisingly tame horse.”

“Hm… maybe it’s a blessing that she can’t hear your incessant singing,” Geralt teased, but his tone was light which told Jaskier that he was looking for a reaction. The bard was certainly not going to rise to the bait.

“My incessant singing is probably a nice change from the monosyllabic grunts she hears on a daily basis.”

Well, he tried not to rise at least. Jaskier dropped the brush in the bucket and retrieved the hoof pick. He kept a hand on Roach’s flank and allowed it to travel to her rump and down her leg to make her aware of where he was going. He pulled her leg up between his thighs and began picking out the dirt from between her hooves. Now was the time or never to tell Geralt how he felt about him, while they were both alone in the deserted stables and where no one could witness his humiliation if Geralt rejected him. Pull yourself together, Jask.

Deep breath in – 1, 2, 3 – and deep breath out. Go.

Just as Jaskier opened his mouth, he noticed Roach’s tail rise slightly out of the corner of his eyes. The movement distracted him long enough to momentarily forget about his intentions and before he had time to react, he felt a heavy weight land on the back of his head. Next thing he knew the stall was filled by loud and rich laughter and the stench of horse shit which had just landed on Jaskier. The bard stood frozen in place, unable to move and not wanting to believe what had just happened to him.

On the other hand, Geralt’s laughter was a sound that Jaskier wished he could bottle up and keep forever.

“Hardy-har-har… really funny, Geralt,” Jaskier mumbled under his breath as he stepped away from the mare and glared at the witcher, who was wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sorry, it’s just…,” Geralt could not even finish his sentence before he was assaulted by another fit of giggles that brought fresh tears to his amber eyes. Well, Jaskier could definitely not tell him now… that would just look plain stupid.

“Yeah, I get it. Well, don’t just stand there! Help me!” Jaskier urged the witcher, who could barely contain his hilarity.

“Oh Jaskier… I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.”

Somehow, those words brought Jaskier joy despite the overwhelming humiliation he felt.

***

3.

“Yennefer, pleaaaaase,” Jaskier pleaded the sorceress, dragging out the vowels as much as he could and ignoring the irritated eye-roll.

“Oh fine, whatever it takes to get you to finally shut up about Geralt and let me get back to my work!” Yennefer snapped at him, slamming her book shut with enough force to make the entire desk rattle in protest. Jaskier smiled brightly at her.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Yen. My other attempts have failed dramatically.”

“So I have heard,” Yennefer said, a nasty smile appearing on her lips, “the smell of horseshit will follow you for the next months I can sense it.”

“Geralt told you, huh?” Jaskier guessed, feeling embarrassed at his expense all over again. Yennefer nodded, biting back the laughter that threatened to push past her lips.

“He told me and Ciri, and Ciri then told me what you had planned that day. I must admit that I felt slightly bad for you. So I’ll help you just because I’m sick of you and Geralt beating around the bush like blushing maidens who are too shy to tell her crush how she feels.”

“Wait, what do you mean Geralt and me... do you think that... he likes me back?” 

Jaskier was concerned that if Yennefer rolled her eyes any harder they would stay stuck like this forever. 

“Yes, dummy. Geralt is head over heels with you, how have you never noticed this before?”

“But... I...,” Jaskier was not too sure where he was going with this sentence, but as it seemed Yennefer was in no mood to wait any longer than necessary.

"If we’re going to do this, you need to do this my way, understood?”

Jaskier had a funny feeling that he would come to regret trusting Yennefer, but what other choice did he have?

“What have you got in mind?” he asked her, insecurity lacing his tone.

“Let’s just say we’ll have to hit where it hurts…,” she told him mysteriously, her smile growing more wicked and not exactly filling Jaskier with confidence.

***

Geralt grinded his teeth at the sight of Jaskier and Lambert in such close proximity. Vesemir had insisted that everyone stay several nights longer at Kaer Morhen and enjoy a feast together to celebrate the witchers returning to their former keep. There was plenty of food and ale to please everyone, and while Geralt thought he would take the opportunity to get drunk and finally admit his feelings to Jaskier, he had certainly not anticipated this turn of events. Ciri was sitting next to him but seemed blissfully unaware of his current emotional state. Why would Jaskier cosy up to Lambert of all people? His jokes were not funny, he had bad breath, not to mention a bad habit of drinking himself into an aggressive mood and physically Lambert had not much going for him either in Geralt’s humble and perfectly objective opinion. So why, oh gods why, was Jaskier looking at him like Lambert had plucked the moon from the sky?

“Aren’t they sweet together?” Yennefer cooed in his ear, only infuriating him further. Geralt barely managed a grunt as he brought his tankard of ale to his lips, took a large swig and all but slammed it back on the table, causing every dish in the vicinity to rattle. Ciri shot Geralt a quizzical side glance, which the witcher ignored.

“Why do I have a feeling that you did something shifty, Yen?” Geralt asked her, his voice barely above a growl as he watched Lambert pull Jaskier onto his lap. The sorceress merely shook her head.

“I don’t know Geralt, but I have to say it’s not your best quality.”

“Is Jaskier snogging Lambert?” Ciri asked, incredulity lacing her tone. Geralt felt every fibre in his body vibrate with anger and his blood boiled in his veins as he watched Lambert’s hand wander over Jaskier’s body like he somehow owned the bard.

Lambert had no fucking right to touch his bard.

Lambert would soon regret his decision to paw Jaskier like he was nothing but a common whore.

“Hey Vesemir,” Geralt was not acknowledging Vesemir but he knew that he had his mentor’s attention nonetheless, “have you ever heard of a witcher developing abilities to fly after undergoing the trials?”

Geralt noticed Yennefer, Ciri and Vesemir eye each other questioningly out of the corner of his eyes. The older witcher looked as puzzled as the rest of them.

“I have never come across such a case, Geralt. Why the interest?”

“Just making sure Lambert won’t survive a fall from my bedroom window,” Geralt announced as he rose from his chair and headed towards where Lambert and Jaskier were sitting. He ignored Vesemir and Yennefer’s protests, his eyes locked on Lambert who seemed to pale when he saw Geralt approach.

“Geralt, to what do I owe the…”

“Knock if off Lambert,” Geralt snapped at him, his anger only amplified by the fact that Lambert still had his arm wrapped around Jaskier, “Jaskier, how about you join me and the others over there…”

Although he had phrased it as a question, Geralt had definitely meant this as an order… something Jaskier picked up on and did not appreciate judging by the indignant expression on his face.

“I like it here, thank you very much.”

Those, as it turned out, had been the wrong words to use. Geralt had to actively calm down his nerves so he would not pummel Lambert to the ground and wipe off that cocky smile off his face.

“You heard the bard, Geralt. So piss off and go huff somewhere else.”

“There’s something I would much rather do,” Geralt said before landing a punch to Lambert’s face.

***

“What was that all about, you big brute?” Jaskier yelled at Geralt as soon as he found the witcher standing on the balcony of his room, brooding by himself as per usual. Geralt did not reply; in fact, he did not even seem to acknowledge Jaskier’s presence, which infuriated the bard to no end. Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm and pulled on it with enough force that it attracted Geralt’s attention. The witcher groaned in warning, but at this point Jaskier did not care if he was punched in the stomach. He needed answers.

“I could ask you the same question, bard,” Geralt snapped, his voice low and menacing. His amber eyes narrowed as Jaskier stood toe to toe with him, not showing any willingness to back down.

“I’m allowed to snog whomever I please. You aren’t my father and don’t get to tell me what to do, Geralt!”

This had all gone terribly wrong. Yennefer had suggested making Geralt jealous by flirting with Lamber, and at the time Jaskier thought it was a brilliant idea. He never thought that Geralt would act out like this. Much less give him orders like he had a say in Jaskier’s life and actions.

“I will tell you what to do when it means keeping you safe!” Geralt hissed back at Jaskier, and despite their barely noticeable height difference it felt like the witcher was towering over Jaskier.

“Keep me safe from what? Lambert is your friend, not a vampire or werewolf that you’re hunting. You know what, this was all a terrible idea, I should never have listened to Yennefer and her stupid ideas.” Jaskier did not wait for Geralt’s reply and meant to storm out of the room, but a large hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him back.

“What do you mean by that?” Geralt demanded to know, but Jaskier was done talking.

“Let go of me, Geralt!”

“Lambert may be my friend, but I know what he’s like. I’ve seen it before. There’s been times where I partnered with him on hunts when we were younger. I saw the way he sweet-talked to women, promised them the world and took them to bed. You… you deserve better than this, Jaskier.”

Geralt’s words caused Jaskier to pause. It did not make sense. Since when did Geralt care who Jaskier went to bed with? And more importantly, since when did he care how these encounters left him feeling?

“This was all Yennefer’s idea. I was never interested in Lambert. I just… wanted to make you jealous,” Jaskier finally admitted, his voice small. He felt like a child who was being scolded. He braced himself for Geralt’s rejection.

“Why did you and Yen want to make me jealous?”

“Because I was sick and tired of seeing you two pining for each other and both being too cowardly to do anything about it,” Yennefer’s voice interrupted their little conversation. Jaskier and Geralt both looked up and saw Yennefer and Ciri standing at the door, wearing the same unimpressed expressions on their faces.

“Yen, stay out of this,” Geralt growled under his breath, but the sorceress merely smiled patronisingly at the witcher.

“Oh Geralt, I am in way too deep at this point. Either you two admit that you have feelings for each other, or I swear to the gods I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Jaskier gulped audibly at Yennefer’s words, and as soon as Geralt felt his anxiety he pulled the bard closer to him. Geralt positioned himself before Jaskier so he was shielding the bard from Yennefer’s attacks. Yennefer and Ciri cast each other knowing looks at the witcher’s actions.

“I believe my work here is done. Geralt, don’t mess this up.”

With these final words Yennefer and Ciri disappeared leaving Geralt and Jaskier alone. The witcher kept his back turned to the bard, almost as if unwilling to face him now that his dirty little secret was out. Jaskier, on the other hand, could not have felt happier if he tried. Yennefer had been right. Geralt liked him back and that was why he had reacted the way he had upon seeing Lambert and Jaskier together.

“Oh Geralt…,” Jaskier whispered, running his hands along the broad shoulders and down the thick arms, pulling a shudder from the witcher, “and here I was worried that you would reject me.”

Geralt finally turned around at those words and hesitantly placed his hands on Jaskier’s hips, his eyes scanning Jaskier’s face nervously. Without any words being spoken, the witcher leaned closer and placed the softest kiss on the bard’s lips.

That was all the reassurance Jaskier needed as he returned the kiss. Safe to say they would not be leaving Geralt’s room any time soon.

[saelwen]

Your Witcher

Dark!Geralt of Rivia x Shy!Reader

Chapter Seven

Masterlist

Summary: You were a shy girl that worked on the tavern of your town, serving drunken men that came to drown all their problems in alcohol. On one of your busy days on the tavern, you grabbed the attention of a certain witcher. In which resolve you being taken away by the white-haired witcher. (Sorry I´m bad at summaries 😂)

Warnings: Angst, a little bit of smut

Words:1.400

The sound of something heavy drag on the floor woke you up. Opening slowly your eyes, you saw Geralt dragging a large iron chest inside the room, making it, even more, smaller than before. Confused, you sit up on the bed, rubbing away the sleep from your e/c eyes.  

The metal chest was decorated with small runes that glowed like fireflies flying on a warm summer night. Titling your head to the side, you look down to the lock and see that it hasn’t any. Weird...

“Oh!...Good morning, princess!” He said with a rich deep voice, forcing a shiver to run down your spine. Lifting your head, you meet his lusty eyes. You nod gently and focus your gaze on the strange chest again, wondering of what it contains. He follows your gaze and smirk, patting gently on the cold iron. “It a surprise, princess!... For you and our lovely dog.” He said while smiling wickedly to you. Your eyes widened with fear, scared of what he had in mind for you and Alice.  

“W..What do you want from me!?” You hiss at him, surprised by how loud your voice came out. His face was also contoured with surprise but vanished quickly and changed to an evil smile. He walks to the bed, sitting slowly beside you. His large hand cups your heated cheeks and stroke his thumb gently. “Well, well, well... It seems that my sweet little princess is feisty today.” He said while moving his hand down to your neck, squeezing gently. You look down and your body starts shaking in fear and with... excitement. His golden eyes pierce yours, looking almost to your soul. The smirk on his lips grew as he notices your body begin to fill with thrill, he leans down and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry, princess...You will know very soon of what’s inside of this chest.” He whispers into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe.  

You push him away and curl your arms around your chest, hiding your bare breasts from his carnal gaze. He then stood up and walk back to the door, looking to you over his massive shoulder. “I’m going out for a while...be a good girl and stay here. The dog will guard the house a while I’m gone.” With that, he locks the door. Tears start rising to your eyes but this time you seal them away, tired of crying all the time.  

Lying down, you pull the soft blankets over your naked body. Outside you could hear Geralt walking away and Alice patrolling around the hut, sniffling and growling to the sounds that came out from the woods. Letting out a heavy sigh, you roll to the side. Watching the flames dancing together in the warm fireplace. You are so tired...tired of being lock in this small room, tired of being used by that monster. Closing your eyes, you try to sleep since there’s nothing to do here but as your eyes begin to close a growl sounded behind you. Jumping up the bed, you look behind you seeing nothing but a wooden wall.  

Frowning, you put your hand on the wall, feeling a gush of warm wind pass through your fingers. You look more closely and saw a small crack between the two thick logs. Peeking through the small hole, you saw a bright blue eye looking back to you. Alice...  

“You smell so good, Y/n... I can still smell my scent on you...” she growls lowly while sniffing the air around her. A shiver runs down your spine, her deep voice made you whimper quietly and your slit wet as you remember how her warm long tongue felt so good inside you. “W..What did he do to you, Alice?” You asked shyly, trying to not let her know how she makes you hot and bothered.  

She let out a loud laugh, almost like a howl and claw the wall outside. “Nothing bad... He only set me free from that stupid human life. Now, I can do whatever I want... And what I want is to crack this stupid wall open and take you into the dark woods, mate you until you couldn’t feel your little cute legs!” Her voice was dark and dangerous, awakening more your excitement.  

Letting out a shaking breath, you shook your head and bite tightly your lower lip, drawing some blood. “This isn’t you, Alice. You need to fight this spell! I know you can do it.” You whisper to her, trying to bring her back to the light but she just stood there laughing at your words. “Oh, sweet Y/n! You don’t know me. Never known!... Now, the master told me that i could have some fun with his little princess... and that’s i will do after patrolling one more time. Be prepared, Y/n!” She said while clawing more the wall with her sharp nails. She walks away, talking loudly about the things that she will do to you on the bed.  

You crawl back to your corner and cry into your hands. You need to find a way out of this hell and quick!  

                                                  /// \\\

Geralt stops roach as he saw the large gates in the distance. Petting gently roach’s neck, he climbs down and guides her to the gates. The sounds of the birds and soft wind stopped as he arrives at the gates, making it look like he had stepped into another dimension.  

Suddenly the large gates open with a loud squeak, making roach let out a nervous huff. “Easy, roach!” He said while walking down the path that leads to a gigantic old palace. When he arrived at the massive pair of wooden doors, Geralt wrap roach’s reins around an old tree. “Stay here.” He mumbled to the mare, patting her snout.  

Walking up the marble stairs, he pushes the heavy doors open. Inside was dead silent, dark as the night. Taking a careful step forward, he looks around the darkroom. His golden eyes accommodating the darkness around him, seeing the place was full of good quality decorations that were full of dust for not being used for decades.  

As he walks to the middle of the room, he heard a gentle humming coming from the long dark hallway beside him. Taking a deep breath, he follows the calm voice.

Geralt stops in front of a door that was cracked open. Peeking through, he saw a small blond figure standing beside the warm fireplace, combing her long hair with her delicate fingers. 

Stepping inside, his heavy footsteps grab the attention of the blond woman. Turning her head around, she looks at him with a huge smirk on her delicate face. “Geralt! It’s been so long!” She said with a cheerful voice.  

He lets out a hmm and walks slowly to her, eyeing her carefully. “Do you have it?” He asked with a snarl, making her smirk grew bigger on her beautiful angelic face. “Oh my... I see that you eager to return to your pet.” She said with a mocking voice, standing up and walking to the small table beside the red old sofa.  

She opens the drawer and took out a black bottle, then she walks to him and put gently the bottle on his large hand. “Give her one spoon every day for a week.” Geralt looks down at the black bottle, seeing the strange black gluey moving inside. He nods and puts the bottle on his belt. “Will it work?” He asked, looking down at her reddish eyes.  

The witch smiled wickedly and nods, letting out a small giggle. “Of course, Witcher!... Now, let’s begin with my payment.” She said while rubbing her soft hands on his chest, undoing his chest armor. He rolls his golden eyes and pulls her roughly to him, kissing her plumps lips hungrily.  

They both fell naked on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, kissing and touching. Her moans and groans filled the cold room while he thrust roughly into her. 

The light from the blazing fire made their skin glow with their sweat. As he sucked her lovely skin on her neck, Geralt look up, smirking while thrusting harder into the blond woman, seeing the black bottle beside his pants that contains your new future.  

You will never leave me again, Princess... Never.

Hey Guys!!! Well, I hope you like this new chapter. Feel free to comment and tell me what you think!! 

Also, I will start a series of one-shots of Monsters x reader! Because who doesn´t love a good old romance with a demon.😂 Stay tuned for that!

Taglist is OPEN

XOXO

Taglist: @burningcoffeetimetravel​ | @uncoolcloudyhead​ | @crazyxreader​ | @notyouraveragemochii​ | @toxic-quenn​ | @supernaturalvikingwhore​ | @ellallheart​ | @lucia-leno03​ | @bloo-moon-freak​ |  @decaffeinatedwolfbouquet-8655385 | @viyamystic​ | @mikariell95​ | @notavintagecliche​ | @rynabarnesrogers​ | @salliebley​ | @fraeuleindurcheinander​ | @majicbamana​ | @debonaire-princess​ | @comfortingcreature​ | @nati-epic-jelly​ | @alwayshave-faith​ | @cookies186​ | @clarissa-27​ | @mariechen1397​ | @marvelfansworld​ | @famouscroissantcowboyfriend​ | @soulmatelove96​ 

[silverfootstepswrites]

Amaryllis | Chapter 1

Author’s Note: It's been 5 years since I first started writing Amaryllis. I love it, but some things were bugging me. The premise is the same, but I've gone through and made edits, mended plot holes, and overall cleaned things up. 

+++

Act One

A flower for you

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 >

+++

Sakura was awake before the first fingers of dawn had crept over the horizon. She wasn't a morning person by nature. Years of discipline had ingrained themselves in her. She had no choice but to open her eyes when her internal clock demanded. The servant girls who were supposed to wait on her were missing. As usual.

The maids should have delivered breakfast, along with her clean clothes. They were meant to help her bathe, chattering and laughing quietly as they worked. Sakura would have indulged their light gossip and silly crushes.

Instead, Sakura heated the iron in her fireplace to press her clothes herself. She washed her hair and body in silence. And there were no extra hands fluttering to button her cuffs and smooth out wrinkles. A rooster screeched in the distance as she finished packing the rucksack sitting on the bed.

She pulled her hair back in a low ponytail with a simple silver clasp. A few quick flicks of her comb brought any stray bits into line. As she pulled her riding breeches on, Sakura paused. Her eyes flickered to the door, which she always left slightly cracked. She could hear footsteps tapping down the corridor. Yanking a knife from one of her many hiding places, she ducked behind the armoire. Slowing her breaths, counting the steps to determine how many people.

Two. Women, from how light each footfall was. But then she heard a voice.

"And then I heard Duke Hyuuga say, 'To see His Majesty so at ease in troubling times is comforting.'"

A high-pitched giggle answered. "How awful. What did His Majesty say?"

The first voice snickered, "He just thanked him."

The mocking went on as they traveled further down the hall. Sakura stood still until she was sure that they were gone. 

She considered, for a moment, chasing them down to scold them. Instead, she stepped into her boots. They were made of supple, tan leather that went up to her knees. She tugged the laces into place in sharp yanks before securing the knot. Years of practice made Sakura an expert in dealing with boots.

She tucked her leather gloves into the inner pocket of her coat. With a quick glance around the room, she slung her rucksack over one shoulder. Her eyes darted toward the door as she thought. Sakura sighed as she dropped her bag. She dug in the drawer of her desk to pull out all of the stationary there. While she hadn't written on any of it, she didn't want to risk anyone else using it. They burned quickly when she tossed them in the fireplace. She knocked on the inside of the drawer to open up the little secret compartment. She pulled out the bundle of letters she had saved inside. They were tied together with a piece of red ribbon. She stared at them for a long time before she pulled just the ribbon free. The rest of the pile went in the fire too. The edges of the envelopes glowing bright red before they began to turn black.

Sakura picked up her bag again. Her dark green cloak draped over her arm, the golden detailing along the collar knocking against the buckles of her bag. She glanced at the lightening horizon out the window before she hurried downstairs and through the courtyard to the stables. One of stable hands greeted her, informing her that her mount was waiting for her.

"Hey there, Kaze," Sakura whispered as she greeted the white stallion. She stroked the patch of light grey running down his muzzle. He snorted against the side of her throat in response. Laughing fondly, she gave the horse one last pat before she moved to check her gear. She stole looks around the courtyard as she secured buckles and straps. Like the servant girls, most of the stable hands who were supposed to be on duty were missing. They had likely snuck off to meet with a lover or were sleeping off a night at the tavern in the hay somewhere.

"Your friends must be tired," she commented to the one boy who was there. He gave a sheepish laugh, crumpling his hat in his hands.

As Sakura's eyes fell on him, she let her expression soften. "Their laziness is no fault of yours, Konohamaru. We could use more men like you," she added.

Konohamaru lifted his chin. "Men?" he repeated.

"Take care of yourself," Sakura replied as she mounted Kaze. He fumbled as she tossed something in his direction. A small pouch landed in his hands. Metal clinked together inside. Konohamaru's eyes widened as he peeked inside. Even in the dark, he could see dozens of coins glinting inside. When he looked back up, Sakura offered him a smile. She received a crooked salute in return when she took up the reins. As she galloped off through the main gate, Sakura barely glanced back at the stone fortress of a castle she called home for half the year.

It was only two hours later that the rest of the castle really came to life.

The servants, who had risen around dawn as well, had set to stoking the fires in the kitchen. The smell of baking bread mingled with the lingering sweetness of morning dew. Smoke began to rise from the chimneys, signaling the weary night guards that it was time for a shift change. The girls set out sweeping the stone floors and delivering breakfast to the rousing nobles.

"I thought you were going on about not letting a young lady travel alone last night," Kushina remarked as she followed Naruto out into the courtyard. She fussed with his travel cloak and tried to smooth out the wild mess of gold on his head.

"I tried to wake up early but she was gone before the sun was even up all the way," pouted Naruto in response.

"Well, I suppose I should be more worried about you, then. Thank goodness Sir Sai is going with you," sighed Kushina. Naruto's face split into a grin. He thumped himself on the chest once.

"I'll be fine. We should be there in about two weeks. The raids have been taking place in the south so we'll be alright," Naruto assured his mother. He hugged her and accepted the kiss on his forehead without complaint. The carriage pulled up, Sai riding alongside it on his own brown mare. Sai bowed deeply, his right fist over his heart.

"Sir Sai, I'm entrusting you with my son. Please watch over him. His Majesty also sends his thanks," Kushina said.

"Anything for my king and queen. We will send word when we have arrived safely at the castle, Your Majesty," answered Sai. Kushina nodded. Rewrapping her shawl around herself, Kushina watched Naruto get into the carriage. All his luggage was secured to the top and Sai tugged on the ropes to make sure they were tied properly. Sai bowed again before he moved to speak to the driver. Naruto's head popped out the window.

"Don't look so worried, Mother. Everything's going to be great," Naruto assured her with a winning smile.

Even so, Kushina's gaze chased them as the horses galloped over the drawbridge.

"I wish she would have gone with him. I would feel so much better," she sighed to herself. Shaking her head, Kushina turned to walk back into the castle. It was time for breakfast anyway.

+++

The forest floor was dappled with sunlight. It was several degrees cooler here, where the light only touched down in sporadic bursts. She wrapped her dark green cloak around her shoulders, glad for the added warmth. Her gloved hand rubbed the side of her horse's neck before tightening on the reins again. Uttering a soft encouragement under her breath, she urged the steed on.

Leaves and brush crunched under hooves. The huffs of the horse's breaths slipped into her ears. Birds chirped warningly as the rider passed through nesting grounds. Their shrill threats followed the intruders long after they had gone.

They paused after a few hours for a short meal and a break. Sakura slipped the bridle from Kaze's mouth to offer him an apple from her bag along with a handful of oats. She left him to shake out his mane and root for more food on the ground while she drank water and munched on some dried meat. Several minutes later, she led the horse to the stream to drink before she was back in the saddle and they were traveling through the undergrowth again.

When the sun began to droop in the sky, Sakura kept her eyes sharp, searching for a place to stay for the night. If she had stayed on the main road, there would have been plenty of inns. But the twisting, winding chaos of the main road meant losing time. She had chosen to cut straight through the forest and there were always consequences for avoiding civilization.

"What do you think about there, Kaze?" Sakura murmured when she noticed a gap in the stone of the cliffs stretching up alongside the river. It was far enough from any roads not to be noticed right away. Kaze trotted over, snuffling and ears flat to his head as he looked for danger. Chuckling, Sakura dismounted and then patted the horse's side a couple times.

"Big baby. Stay here. I'll go take a look," she whispered. Kaze obediently stayed back while Sakura slipped through the thick brush. A few thin branches whipped her as she marched through but she ignored the pain and kept going. At the mouth of the low cave, Sakura peered inside but it was too dark to really get a good look. So she picked up a stone from the ground and flung it at an angle. She listened to it bang against the walls and the faint sparks from rock striking rock gave just enough illumination to confirm that though the cave was quite shallow, it was also uninhabited.

Sakura crunched back through the brush to grasp Kaze's reins.

"Come on. It's fine," she assured the steed in a low, soothing voice as she led it through the trees. And though he didn't follow along gladly, he followed without resisting too much.

Sakura tossed her rucksack into the cave, just at the entrance so she could keep an eye on it while she took off the saddle and thick blanket underneath from Kaze's back. She brushed his back and sides in quick movements before ruffling his mane.

"There. Feeling better?" she asked. Kaze tossed his head, nickering happily in response.

She ripped off the lower branches from some trees to build a fire. The hard wood gave off little smoke and eventually she let it die down into glowing coals that would provide warmth but not fill up the cave with burning fumes.

Sakura sat next to the fire with a thick flannel blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she soaked up what heat she could from the smoldering wood. Kaze paced around a little in the cave, ears pricked up for any threatening noises until he seemed satisfied. When he had deemed everything safe, he settled down on the stone floor behind her. Curling up around her back, he rested his head in her lap while wrapping her in his warmth.

"You're such a mother hen," Sakura murmured fondly as she patted his neck until he fell asleep. She stayed awake for another hour or so, tossing in a couple thick chunks of wood and stoking the coals with a branch. And then she was dozing off too, one ear carefully keeping track of the sounds of the sleeping forest.

They journeyed this way for another five days. With dawn, they rose. Kaze ate breakfast while she prepared his gear and checked that she had everything. And Kaze kicked dirt over the previous night's campfire while Sakura ate hers. They moved swiftly and quietly through the forest. A couple times, they ran into rabbits and pheasants running around in the undergrowth. Sakura managed to get her bow and arrows out in time to shoot at them a few times. Once, she hit her mark, and she roasted up the bird for her dinner over the fire.

"When we get there, I won't be able to eat like this anymore. I miss traveling. Didn't you love those berries we found when we went up to the northern badlands?" commented Sakura. Kaze's big, soulful eyes were focused on her but she knew he couldn't actually understand her. Still, his neighing and snorting in response to the rises and falls in her the pitch of her voice made her feel well-listened-to. She smiled at her trusted companion.

Kaze had been bred from the best and she had fallen in love with the spirited foal upon first sight. She had spent many hours brushing his silky mane and whispering her secrets to him. It hadn't been uncommon for servants to find her sleeping in his stable with him, curled up against his warmth. When she had left for the military academy at 12, the not-quite adult horse had gone with her. They matured together, with Sakura graduating at 16 and Kaze a full-grown stallion by then.

"Maybe we should run away together- just you and me. I could dye my hair. We could work as mercenaries," Sakura suggested. Kaze's answering snort of breath sounded disapproving.

"No? Maybe we'll be bodyguards then? A slightly more moral line of work. Or we could buy a little land and farm and I'll feed you all the carrots in the world," she went on. At the word 'carrots', his ears flicked up and Sakura laughed. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of the orange vegetables and fed it to him. She could practically see the pleasure glittering in his gaze.

"Just between you and me, I am not looking forward to this all. Dancing like a monkey for all these nobles is probably worse than that time we fought off those raiders at the mountain pass last year," added Sakura in a more morose tone. Crunching away happily, Kaze nickered. Sakura's smile returned.

"You're right. The little pleasures. It's the little pleasures that count," she sighed, reaching out to stroke his neck.

They caught sight of white towers a little after a week after they left home. Emerging from the forest, they stood at the edge to survey the large castle shining proudly. But the castle was on the top of a large mountain so it would take at least another day to reach the top. At the foot of the mountain sat a clear lake edged with dark pines. Sakura glanced westward. The sky was already beginning to turn darker blue. Soon it would bleed red and purple and gold before night fell completely. Not a good time to start a trek up a mountain at all.

"Let's camp here for the night. Help me catch something for dinner?" Sakura said, patting Kaze's neck. She still had plenty of dried fruits and hearty loaves of dark bread that would easily last for the rest of the voyage. But the bread was chewy and tough and it had been a couple days since the pheasant. Reaching back, Sakura wrapped her fingers around her bow. Then she pulled an arrow from the quiver on her back, rubbing the feather on the end to make sure it wasn't bent.

It took half an hour to catch a rabbit. The arrow hit it directly in the eye, killing it instantly. Sakura dangled it by the ears with one hand to steer Kaze with the other. They circled the lake once before coming to rest in the shadow of the mountain. With the solid wall of rock up behind them, Kaze seemed much more at ease. As soon as Sakura pulled off his saddle and the rest of gear, the horse went to drink water and graze at the sweet grass. Sakura set up camp, gathering firewood and setting up a couple traps before she went to the lake to skin and clean the rabbit.

"You know, Kaze," Sakura called out. She heard the horse grunt in response. Her knife moved, deftly cutting into the fur until she pulled away the skin in one layer.

"I changed my mind again. We should be shepherds. You like sheep, right?" she said. Kaze snorted. Laughing, Sakura split the belly of the rabbit. She pulled out the organs, dropping them into the lake where fish swarmed to feed on the unexpected bounty. She quartered it and separated the flesh into neat parcels. Spearing them onto sharpened sticks, she roasted the rabbit over the fire, ripping into the juicy flesh with her bare fingers while the meat still steamed. Kaze kept his distance while she ate. He didn't like the smell of dead animals. But once she was finished eating and disposed of the rest of the rabbit in the lake where the fish would take care of everything, Kaze cantered back.

"When we arrive at the castle, you'll be stuck in the stables all day and I'll be trapped in court. We should enjoy this while we can," she sighed. She fell onto her back, lolling lazily in the cool grass. Kaze prodded and nudged her until Sakura finally got up and followed him back to camp. The horse promptly deposited his head in her lap and slept. Sakura stayed up to stare into the flames. When her eyelids began to droop, she let her head loll back against the stone wall and fell into dreams too.

When she woke in the morning, Sakura dove into the cold lake, scattering the fish. She worked her fingers through her hair and scrubbed the dirt from underneath her fingernails. Swearing and shivering, she worked as fast as she could. Skin tingling and clean, she hauled herself out of the water. Wringing all the water out of her hair was the hardest part. She dried herself off, put on the fresh, clean white uniform buried deep in her rucksack, and spent several minutes brushing Kaze and plaiting his mane.

Then they headed up the mountain in a brisk trot. Sakura's thighs tightened around Kaze's sides as she stared up at the gleaming palace. Kaze felt this change and let out a low noise of anxiety too. Eyes widening, Sakura turned her gaze back to him.

"Don't worry. You have nothing to fear," she murmured in a low voice as she stroked his neck.

"It's me that should be worried," she added in a mutter.

They rode on in silence until the dirt road suddenly became a path of light grey cobblestones. Kaze felt the change under his hooves and his pace slowed into a more refined trot. The mountain was so steep that instead of having one straight yet impossible path up, the road was carved into the side of the mountain, spiraling upwards. On the final rotation around the mountain, Sakura caught sight of the beautifully gleaming stone sides of the Ispolin Castle that all the nobles fawned over. It was the home of the royal family of the Mountain Kingdom.

There was a large iron gate surrounding the grounds. But beyond the bars Sakura could see well-manicured lawns and a large stone fountain with statues of cherubs squirting water from their mouths. The topiaries were carved into shapes of animals- not a single leaf out of place. And the fountain glistened as if it had been built that same day.

The huge glass windows of the palace sparkled in the late morning sun. Sakura's eyes trailed over the details of the molding and the delicate green vines that draped across the balconies. The front entrance was a massive affair completed by two stone pillars and some sort of relief carving above the doors themselves that were too far away to make out clearly. Sakura tried to count the windows to get an estimate of just how large the place was but she couldn't guess how far back the building stretched. She slowed as she spotted two guards flanking the large front gate. Twin statues of birds loomed above the men.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Sakura called out. Kaze came to a halt.

"Greetings, traveller. What business do you have at Cherny Castle today?" one of the guards answered. Sakura could feel them eying the sword attached to her belt. She urged Kaze forward a couple steps so she could hand one of the guards a leather billfold tied shut with a length of black cord. He fumbled to untie the knot and then spent a long time examining the bright red wax seal gracing the front of the papers. Still, she waited patiently as they looked over her documents.

"Huh, Forest Kingdom, is it?" he finally read out loud. Sakura graciously dipped her head.

And then they flipped to the back of the page to read her title. Along with the stamp she had placed there with her signet ring.

"We had no idea we were addressing such a decorated figure. Our apologies, General," the other guard quickly said with a bow. His companion rushed to do the same.

"At ease, gentlemen," she answered with a cool smile. The two guards proceeded to open up the gates for her. The billfold was returned to her with shaking hands. Without waiting for any other words, Sakura clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Kaze headed forward in a crisp trot accompanied by a proud toss of his head. They followed the road between lines of shrubbery and stone sculptures before it curved around the big fountain she had seen earlier. There were already people waiting for her by the front steps leading up to the palace.

"Good morning, General. I trust that your trip here was pleasant," one of the people in the greeting party gushed.

"The weather was indeed fine for travel. Might I meet with His Majesty soon?" Sakura said as she dismounted. Kaze nuzzled against her throat, earning a light push.

"Behave," she chastised. There was already a servant on hand who stepped forward to take Kaze's reins. Another servant took Sakura's bag, trying his best not to wince at how unexpectedly heavy it was.

"Oh, of course. His Majesty has been awaiting your arrival," another chirruped, as she motioned toward the door. Sakura was escorted quickly and cheerfully by her entourage to the throne room. They stopped outside where the servant at the door snootily asked for her name and title. And when it was given, he promptly attempted to cover up his chagrin with a small cough.

"The Esteemed King of the Divine Mountain Kingdom, His Most Gracious Majesty Fugaku Uchiha," a booming voice announced. Sakura adjusted the sword hanging at her hip and began taking brisk strides into the room. She stopped at the appropriate distance without looking up at the throne and instead swept herself down in a deep bow. It was a graceful pose, falling to her left knee as her right fist moved over her heart. She kept her head lowered for a long time.

"Your Majesty, this is General Haruno of the Forest Kingdom," the voice added in a much softer tone.

"Please rise, General. There is no need for you to kneel," the King stated. His voice was unexpectedly warm. As Sakura rose to her full height, she folded her arms behind her. Back straight and feet together, she finally looked at the man who sat on the throne of the mighty Mountain Kingdom.

He had a hardened face. If she had to link him to a season, it would have been winter. His expression was one that had weathered many cold storms. The set of his mouth was stern and his dark eyes were lined. His dark brown hair was parted neatly in the center and fell just past his chin. But the crown on his head was of finely crafted white gold and glittering gems. His clothes too were of beautifully woven fabric with intricate details. He was all black against silvery tassels and brocade. The hands resting on the arms of the throne had silver rings fitted with dark blue gems to echo the colors of the family coat of arms.

To his left sat the queen. Her long black hair flecked with hints of gray fell to her waist. With her pointed chin and black eyes, she almost would have looked like a marble statue. But the gentleness of her smile softened her entire face. Her attire was simple and elegant. A dark gray and navy dress along with a fur-lined cape. The only pieces of jewelry she wore were a delicate silver chain around her neck and a shiny diamond ring on her right hand.

"Welcome to our land. We had just received word of your expedited arrival," the queen uttered in a voice like warmed honey. Sakura bowed her head respectfully in the woman's direction. As she did, she noticed a piece of paper held in the queen's delicate hand. The red wax seal was broken and Sakura had no doubt that it was from her own country. Judging from the laughter hiding the queen's eyes, the "word of her expedited arrival" had arrived not too long ago.

"It is an honor, Your Majesties. I have heard many things of the Great Iron Kingdom of the North," answered Sakura as she returned the pleasantries. She could see the king and queen exchange approving looks.

"Our annual summer festival will be upon us soon and we would be pleased if you would stay as our guest of honor during this time," the king continued.

"I could think of no greater pleasure, Your Majesty," replied Sakura.

"We have arranged for your own apartment in the western wing of the castle. And our son, Prince Sasuke, has volunteered to be your guide." As the king spoke, one of the noblemen who had been standing near the throne suddenly took a few steps forward. He dipped his head.

"Baron Uchiha will escort you to meet him," the king added.

"Shisui is fine, General," Shisui said.

"My Lord," Sakura replied with the same courtesy.

After bowing again to the king and queen, Sakura took her leave from the throne room, Shisui on her heels. As soon as they were past the large wooden doors, Sakura took a moment. She pretended to fix her clothes, but she used this time to glance over her companion. Faces mattered to Sakura. They said a lot about the person they were attached to. And Sakura was going nowhere without getting a good look at the person who was going to lead her around this strange place. He had a rounder chin and wider cheekbones but the same dark hair and dark eyes that seemed to run in the Uchiha blood. He wore a ring on his right hand, just like the queen did. She wondered whether that was a privilege of the ruling family.

"Would it be in poor taste to ask about Prince Sasuke? I can't say that I've ever had the pleasure of his acquaintance," she asked.

Shisui offered a polite smile as he gestured toward the hall. They began walking.

"My cousin Prince Sasuke is quite a lady-killer. I would advise you not to fall too hard for him. You wouldn't be the first beautiful woman to be sent off in tears," Shisui warned her as they turned a sharp corner and went up a sweeping flight of stairs. Sakura was a little distracted by the dazzling chandeliers dangling from the high ceilings. Even the ceilings were edged with gold and intricate designs of flowers and leaves. Still, she found the time to scoff at the idea.

"Your concern is appreciated, but quite unnecessary," she replied, the corner of her mouth rising.

She caught the searching look he cast her. "Perhaps your interests lie elsewhere?" he probed.

She smiled, but it was a flash of fangs as she turned her head toward him. "Yes. On the battlefield," she retorted.

He flinched away from her gaze. But he pretended to be busy rubbing his chin.

"You look curious. Perhaps you have another question?" Sakura offered.

"Is General the title you prefer or has it been….pressed upon you?" Shisui wondered. The sharp smile faded from her face. She ran her tongue along the backs of her teeth as she took that in.

"If you're asking something like that, I'm guessing that you already know the answer, My Lord," was all she said in return. The silence that settled over them was stifling. Shisui's eyes darted around from the floor to the ceiling. Anywhere but her. And Sakura kept walking, her high and her back straight as she took in the beauty of the building.

"The third door on the left, Your- General," Shisui announced as they came to a stop in a long hallway. They bowed to one another before Sakura entered the indicated room. He lowered his head deeper than hers, lingering for a bit longer than necessary. By the time he lifted his head, she had already slipped into the indicated room.

It was a salon furnished with couches and armchairs. The bright pink flowers arranged in the urns gave off a sweet scent that was almost cloying. On the coffee table was a silver tray that held a small teapot with two matching teacups. There was also a round dish filled with cakes. Watching the steam rise from the spout of the pot, Sakura guessed that the tray had been set out no more than a few minutes ago. She silently admired the efficiency of the person who had made it happen.

But as she stood there, waiting, the strong fragrance of flowers began to make her head hurt. Rather than sit and wait for a migraine to build up, Sakura looked around until she noticed that the tall windows on the opposite end of the room were actually doors leading out to the balcony. When she touched the handle, she found that it was unlocked. She slipped through the doors, leaving them ajar as she leaned against the stone railing.

Sakura sucked in a deep breath of the fresh morning air.

She waited there as she admired the beauty of the palace grounds. The clean mountain air was a welcome change from the damp, musty odor of the city. As her eyes fluttered shut, she heard a firm knock on the door. The curtains blew in the draft as the doors opened. She heard footsteps enter the room and then hesitate for several seconds. She waited for him to notice the opened door and fluttering fabric.

"I'm Prince Sasuke of the Mountain Kingdom," he called out without moving towards her. Sakura didn't respond. Only then did she listen to him draw closer. There was another pause before he pushed past the curtains to join her on the balcony. Sakura's lips tilted in a slightly arrogant smile as she watched him. She couldn't wait to see what this supposed heartthrob had to say.

Prince Sasuke was tall and handsome, as rumors had indicated even back home. He had coal-colored hair with bangs falling into his eyes. His eyes were almost dark enough to be called black. A pointed chin and a straight nose added to the impression of nobility ingrained into his very face. His high-collared vest was dark blue with silver piping and matching silver buttons. Underneath, he wore a white shirt with the sleeves folded once to expose his gloved hands. The supple leather of his boots identified them easily as meant for riding rather than walking long distances.

Just as she scrutinized him, she could feel him doing the same. Especially the way his gaze lingered on the blade hanging from her belt. And the medals glittering on the front of her uniform.

"Did I interrupt a riding lesson? My apologies," Sakura said. She watched Sasuke's eyes widen. Just a bit before he controlled his expression again.

"Not a lesson. I usually ride my horse in the mornings," he answered. He hesitated for a moment and then added, "If you would like, you would be most welcome to join me in the future. It wouldn't do for us to be strangers if you'll be staying here for the season."

Sakura sighed.

"No need to be so polite with me. If it's an activity that you prefer for its solitude, it's best I don't intrude," Sakura said as she extended her hand. Sasuke took it, automatically raising it to his mouth to kiss. But Sakura gripped his hand, pulling it into a firm shake instead. His shoulders relaxed slightly as he took in her words. The tentative smile he gave her was surprisingly innocent.

"That's… quite a relief. I must confess that I had heard the rumors. But I was still expecting a giggling lady," Sasuke admitted. Sakura tried not to laugh at that. She pretended to cough as she concealed her smile behind her gloved hand.

"For a supposed lady-killer, you're quite rude, Prince Sasuke," Sakura noted. She watched the tips of Sasuke's ears turn red as he realized what his comment had sounded like. "You're lucky that I love candor."

"I…. uh… I beg your pardon. Would you still prefer to be called a lady?" he tried again. Sakura raised her eyebrows.

"I didn't run out on the battlefield and get myself stabbed dozens of times to be called 'a Lady', Prince," she replied, eyes narrowing.

Sasuke was quiet as he took that in. And then he replied: "Well… you could be. You'd just be a Lady with some stab wounds."

That took Sakura by surprise. She threw her head back and laughed. And when she did, Sasuke let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Well, Lady or General, I think I'm just grateful you're not another woman on the prowl for a husband," he finally decided as he extended his hand to her. Sakura fixed him with another smirk.

"No offense to you, Prince, but you're not my type at all," she responded, still laughing. And when she caught her breath, she scrutinized him, chin in her hand.

"But I like you, Prince. Let's be good friends," she declared.

+++

Eyebrows rose when everyone in the palace began to notice Prince Sasuke's behavior around the visiting noble. There was nothing improper about his conduct. Rather, he was a perfect gentleman as he escorted her around the enormous building. This in itself was a vast departure from the way that he normally sent noble ladies crying all the way home.

They ate lunch together on the terrace in the back. Sakura waved away the servants who tried to stand over them with parasols to shield her from the darkening rays of the sun. She directed them to Sasuke instead.

"I'm surprised," Sasuke commented. Sakura glanced up at him as she speared a cherry tomato on the end of her fork.

"Most women are obsessed with staying pale. We once had a countess stay for the weekend and she refused to leave her room during the day for fear of tanning," he elaborated. Sakura smiled.

"I think traveling on horseback for military campaigns doesn't leave a girl much choice in the matter of fair skin," she answered. There was an awkward pause.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to critique your appearance," Sasuke said. But Sakura shook her head.

"Being pale is the mark of a poor leader. The man who sits in his tent gorging himself on wine is pasty and distant. It is the leader who rides with his men who is bronzed and beloved," recited Sakura as her gaze grew distant.

"Do you enjoy reciting poetry?" asked Sasuke. Sakura offered a cheeky smile as she squeezed another cherry tomato between her teeth. The fruit burst in her mouth, flooding it with sweet pulp and seeds.

"It's not poetry. My father used to say that to me," she corrected.

After lunch, Sasuke continued his tour of the palace. There were four floors along with three distinct sections of the castle. The western wing housed visiting nobles and their families. The eastern wing was comprised of mainly the apartments for the royal family and closest friends. The central wing connected the two sections and this was where the public rooms such as the libraries, ballrooms, and dining halls were. There was another section of the palace- a smaller building in the back that seemed to sit alone as an annex.

Sasuke pointed to it as they looked out the window on the second floor.

"That's the servants' quarters," explained Sasuke. Sakura tried not to look so surprised. But the servants' quarters matched the rest of the palace with its white walls and shining blue roof. On the stone chimney sat two young boys covered in soot. This place even employed chimney sweeps for the servants. It was strange to see the servants' quarters being maintained so carefully. Had Sasuke not explained, she would have assumed that it was a residence for the branch family or visiting dignitaries.

Sakura thought back to the servants' quarters in the castle in her own country. They were always buried in the basement of the fortress. As a child, she had spent countless hours sneaking around the cool halls. The flickering torchlight warped and elongated her shadows. Equal parts nervous and excited, she squeezed her damp palm around her cousin's. And Sasori looked back at her for a brief instant to give her a reassuring smile. They snuck around the skirts of the scullery maids and chefs. As they weaved their way through the loud clamor of the kitchen, they snuck pastries hot from the oven that had been left to cool on the counters. The flaky treats burnt their tongues with the taste of butter as they gobbled them down. And if some of the kinder maids found them, they would sneak them small cups of watered-down wine before shooing them off.

The rest of the tunnels were dark and damp- some even had moss or thick lines of ivy burrowing between the stones. Rats squeaked by and Sakura tried her best not to squeal whenever Sasori kicked one aside. But the game was too fun to stop. And by the time they reached the rooms where the servant girls slept, their eyes were accustomed to the dark. Together Sakura and Sasori ran their hands over straw-filled mattresses and shushed each other as they ducked into corners whenever someone walked past.

When they were finally caught, they fled, giggling as someone's scolding echoed down the halls. And then they would run all the way up to the courtyard with their hands linked as they weaved past donkeys carrying sacks of flour and stable boys leading horses by their reins. Only when they reached the safety of her room did they collapse into laughter with their hands still clasped together.

When Sakura felt Sasuke's stare on the side of her face, she realized that she had zoned out. Clearing her throat, she took a step away from the window.

"Shall we continue?" she suggested. Sasuke studied her expression for a moment before he nodded, obviously too polite to press her.

As they walked on through the palace, Sakura caught Sasuke's gaze flickering down to her hip more than once. When she rested her hand on the hilt, Sasuke smiled.

"Careful, Prince. You shouldn't covet another's weapon," teased Sakura.

"That doesn't look like it's just for decoration," he commented. It wasn't uncommon for military officers to have decorative swords on their person. But Sakura tilted her head to one side as she let her fingers slip off her weapon.

"I'm by no means the best swordfighter but I can hold my own," Sakura answered as vaguely as she could.

"Would you like to spar?" Sasuke offered.

Sakura arched an eyebrow as she took a step back from him.

+++

"I thought you said you weren't so good with the sword," Sasuke said between pants. He rubbed his hand across his forehead. His palm came away wet with sweat. Sakura held her stance for an extra moment before she relaxed. Back straightening and legs coming together, she sheathed her blade. There were a few beads of sweat dotting her temples that she carelessly brushed away. But her chest rose and fell in big breaths too as she smiled at him.

"I'm not. But I did graduate from the military academy," she answered. Hands on her hips, she took a few deep breaths before tossing a smile his way.

"Best 3 out of 5?" suggested Sakura. Sasuke shook his head.

"I don't think I'd last another two rounds. You win," he puffed.

Despite trouncing Sasuke soundly, Sakura didn't rub her victory in his face. And in return, the prince didn't seem to carry any bitterness about being defeated by a woman. They handed off their practice weapons to the waiting servants and headed back into the palace together. Sakura was certain that there had been curious faces watching them from the windows but didn't say anything about them.

Sasuke finally showed her to her apartment again in the western wing.

"We'll wash up and meet in the library in an hour? I think we might have some books that might interest you," he said. Sakura agreed. Sasuke departed while Sakura retreated past the double doors and closed them behind her.

The royal family had very obviously given her one of the finer apartments in the palace. Sakura walked around once, counting the rooms. There was a large bedroom along with a private bathroom. At the back of the apartment were two smaller bedrooms. Through a set of glass-paneled doors was a large sitting room that included a large piano and a view of the sprawling palace grounds in the back. Standing at one of the windows, Sakura looked outside for a moment. Then, shaking her head, she shut the curtain and turned on her heel.

As she stood in the bedroom unbuttoning her uniform, there was a knock on the door. After a pause, the door opened and Sakura could hear footsteps. They were women's shoes, judging from the tap of heels in the marble entrance. Fingers pulling the tie out of her ponytail, Sakura opened the door to the bedroom to greet her unexpected visitor.

"Pardon the intrusion, Your Highness!" a voice squeaked before she had a chance to speak.

There was a girl standing there in the starched maid uniform. Her head of red hair was bowed low, staying that way for a long time before it dared to rise again. Sakura leaned against the doorframe as she waited for the girl to speak.

"I've been sent to serve as Your Highness' personal attendant during your stay," she chirruped. Sakura arched an eyebrow as she noticed the other person standing somewhat behind her. She was still bowing, long black hair covering her face.

"And you?" Sakura prompted.

"I am also here to serve Your Highness," she answered in a smooth, soft voice. A smile curled Sakura's lips.

"Very well. Your names?" Sakura went on.

"Moegi… Highness," the redhead immediately peeped in a shaky voice.

"Haku, Your Highness," the black-haired girl said afterward.

"I'd assume that the royal family would only send the finest staff so I'll expect you to carry out your jobs. I wake early in the morning so I'll need breakfast then. In exchange, I won't ask for you late at night. I don't have many clothes, but I do ask that you always keep my uniform clean and ironed. Do you understand?" she briskly stated. Both servants nodded with attentive gazes. Sakura's eyes lingered on Haku for a moment longer.

"Very well. Then would you mind taking my uniform to be cleaned?" Sakura said as she shed her jacket and handed it off to Haku.

"And would you mind running a bath for me please, Moegi?" requested Sakura of the other servant.

A little under an hour later, Sakura was clean. The vast array of soaps and fragranced oils provided for her had been a little overwhelming. With Moegi's help, Sakura decided that each day, she would pick a new scent until she had gone through the collection. With hair smelling like lavender, Sakura dressed in a simple dark blue shirt with long sleeves. On the bottom, she wore tan riding pants. When she pulled on her boots, Haku and Moegi exchanged quiet titters.

"What?" Sakura asked with a smile of her own. Moegi promptly blushed.

"Oh, my apologies, Highness. It's just that… you're much less intimidating out of uniform," the redhead admitted with a nervous giggle. Sakura shrugged.

"That makes sense. And if we will be together this season, you should know: I prefer General to Highness," she replied as she got to her feet.

"Of course, General. We will keep this in mind," Haku interceded with Moegi turned red from embarrassment again.

"I'm off. Prince Sasuke said to meet at the library. That's in the other wing, correct?" Sakura said as she made her way to the door. Moegi and Haku followed her.

"Yes, General. He most likely means the library on the third floor across from the small music room. Would you like us to escort you?" Haku said.

"I'll be fine," Sakura insisted.

"The library doors are just after the statue of the lion, General. You shouldn't have too much trouble finding them. Are you certain you wouldn't like an escort?" added Moegi. Thinking back to the servants back at her own castle who hardly even looked her in the face, Sakura smiled again.

"Thank you. I'm sure I'll manage," she said before she walked out of the apartment and into the hallway. Hands tucked into her back pockets, she backtracked the steps she and Sasuke had taken down the hall toward her apartment. When she found the right staircase, she climbed it up to the third floor. Taking a moment to reorient herself, she turned to the left, crossing through the central wing. When she reached the end of the incredibly long hallway, she took a sharp turn to the right and slowed her gait to look for the statue that Moegi had mentioned. Sakura passed a shining suit of armor and a statue of a mermaid before she found what she was looking for. The giant feline sat upright, eyes glaring ahead and teeth just slightly bared.

Without hesitation, she grasped the cold metal handle and pulled the door open. It swung soundlessly. But rather than unending rows of shelves, a foyer remarkably similar to that of her own apartment met her. Frowning, Sakura took a moment to glance back at the hallway. Perhaps there was another statue of a lion that she had missed.

"Hello? Is someone there?" a voice called from further in the apartment.

Sakura faced a real dilemma. Clearly, she had found the wrong room. Now did she ignore the voice and quietly sneak out and leave this person wondering what had happened? Or, taking the polite route, did she apologize and explain her mistake?

Heaving a sigh, Sakura let her sense of honor win out again. Stepping into the apartment, she let the door swing shut behind her.

"I beg forgiveness for my intrusion, but I was told that this was the library and… clearly, I'm mistaken," Sakura sheepishly said as she ventured forward.

"If you're lost then you must be our visiting noble," the voice chuckled in response. Curiosity overcame Sakura as she twisted the knob to open the door where her mysterious conversation partner was.

Tucked into the large four-poster bed was a man with dark hair and dark eyes. He was clearly an Uchiha, just from his appearance. And despite the warm weather, he was wearing a robe and an extra blanket had been draped across his lap. In his hands was a worn book. His thumb was tucked between the pages, as if marking his place. His face was pale and his features delicate, bordering almost on beautiful rather than handsome.

"You're the General I've been hearing about. Forgive me. I would stand to greet you but my physician has advised strongly against any activity," he said, gesturing to the rest of his body swathed in comforter. Unsure whether he was joking or not, Sakura settled for a polite smile.

"I'm the prince who doesn't leave his room, Itachi Uchiha," he added with a touch of humor.

"It's quite alright. It's a pleasure to meet you. General Sakura Haruno," Sakura replied as she extended her hand to him. They shook hands and she observed that he had a firm grip. She approved. A strong handshake was always a good indicator of personal character.

"Again, very sorry for intruding. I was supposed to meet with your brother at the library and apparently my sense of direction only applies to the outdoors," Sakura stated as she released his hand. Itachi's eyebrows rose the slightest bit when his brother came up but he didn't elaborate. Instead, he gestured to his left with his book.

"You were quite close. The library is just two doors down. I'm actually grateful you lost your way. I don't get many visitors," responded Itachi.

Sakura quickly excused herself and left his chambers. Sasuke met her at the library shortly after and they spent the rest of the afternoon touring other parts of the palace before having supper with the King and Queen. Sakura didn't bring up the absence of the other prince at the table but she did notice it. After supper was obligatory socializing with some of the other nobles. But throughout the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, she couldn't help but think back to the random and slightly embarrassing encounter she had had.

By the time she found an excuse to retire, it was much later than she would have liked. Sakura entered her apartment and simply stood in the foyer for a good minute, just taking a moment to breathe deeply. Someone had wound the grandfather clock standing beside the door. It ticked steadily, a metronome to keep the tempo as Sakura organized her thoughts. Her head still felt like a jumbled mess as she made her way to the bedroom and paused in the doorway.

She sat down at the desk. She shuffled through the fine stationary that had been left for her to use. Hefting the fountain pen in her fingers, she thought out what to write. After some hesitation, she lowered the nib to the paper.

Dear Sasori,

Lifting the pen, she paused for a moment.

Have you ever mistaken a bedroom for a library? Because apparently I'm the sort of fool who would do that.

A week later, more visitors passed through the front gates. Trumpets sounded to announce the royal guests. Partway down the mountain on horseback, Sakura and Sasuke yanked their reins, bringing their horses to a sudden stop. Kaze gave a little wheeze of irritation at the rough treatment and Sakura patted his neck in apology.

"That sounds like them," Sasuke said as he tried to catch his breath. He looked over at Sakura who simply nodded.

"We should head back to greet them," added Sasuke.

Expression determinedly neutral, Sakura clicked her tongue to urge Kaze forward. Sasuke followed, easily catching up to her. She could feel his eyes on her as they weaved their way through the forest. They had deviated from the path and let the horses naturally find their way back. Hands loosely holding the reins, Sakura let out a soft sigh. The sunlight slanted in through the branches, flecking the back of Kaze's neck in pools of shimmering gold.

"You look like you're riding out to battle," remarked Sasuke. She looked over at him and saw that he was joking. A smile curled her mouth too at his words.

"I'll have to assume that your relationship with your brother is less than ideal," Sasuke added. The smile immediately dropped. Her expression hardened as she directed her gaze ahead.

"He is not my brother. I have always been an only child," she responded with a steely edge to her voice. There was a long pause. Sasuke blew out a long breath, attracting her gaze again.

"Well… it seems like all the rumors that travel over the border aren't to be trusted," he decided. And then he added, "You may not believe me… but I think I understand. Family matters can be difficult." He cast his eyes up at the sky and then met her searching look. The way his mouth quirked up on just one side made his smile somehow sad. For a moment, Sakura somehow knew that he wasn't lying.

By the time they made it back to the palace half an hour later, they were laughing and joking again. They left their horses at the stables and weaved through the kitchens on the way back into the castle. Sasuke swiped a couple turnovers fresh from the oven. One of the chefs said something scolding as he glimpsed the theft. But then he laughed and waved them on. That one interaction filled Sakura with such a sudden wave of nostalgia that, for a moment, she felt sick to her stomach. But she had to pull herself together when Sasuke tossed her one. He popped the other in his mouth, immediately sucking in quick breaths as the hot pastry burnt his tongue. Sakura let hers cool a few extra moments before she wolfed it down too.

"Oh, this is amazing," she commented with approval.

"Apples. Do you have these in your country?" Sasuke asked her.

"Rarely. Sometimes dignitaries bring them as gifts. They're difficult to find," she replied before she took another bite. And then another. Sasuke simply smiled as he kept quiet- giving her time to eat.

"And this smell. I had no idea cinnamon could be used in a pastry like this," she went on. As she popped the last bit of the pastry into her mouth, she wrinkled her nose.

"On the other hand, you, my friend, smell absolutely atrocious," Sakura commented as they climbed the stairs together.

"You're no flower yourself. I suppose it would be most polite to wash up before greeting guests. But it would also be rude not to greet them quickly," he thought out loud.

"Simple. Greet guests from a distance and hope that your stench keeps them at bay if they try to kiss your ring," quipped Sakura. They chuckled as they pushed past the door and emerged in the first floor hallway.

"Ah, and there is young Prince Sasuke now with the Princess," one of the Uchiha nobles said as they rounded the corner. Sakura swallowed hard when she recognized the bright gold glow of Naruto's hair. She could feel Sasuke carefully measuring her expression so she let the cool veneer of slip into place. Back straightening and chest forward, she strode up to them.

"Your Highness, this is Prince Sasuke Uchiha of the Mountain Kingdom. Your Royal Highness, this is Prince Naruto Namikaze of the Forest Kingdom," the noble announced rather grandly.

"I believe that I've asked not to be called that, My Lord," Sakura interjected. She watched the man turn bright red as he took in her words. Snuffling behind his mustache, he quickly cleared his throat.

"Yes, of course. My mistake, General," he blurted out. But Sakura wasn't paying attention to him. Head tilting back, she turned to face Naruto.

"Sakura, you got here so much faster than we did. I'm glad you arrived safely," Naruto greeted her with a warm smile. But when he extended his arms for a hug, Sakura only dipped her head with her fist over her heart.

"Welcome, Prince Naruto. I am pleased to hear of your safe journey as well," Sakura answered in a crisp voice. When she rose again, she could see the disappointment shining in Naruto's eyes. His arms hung sadly for an extra moment before they slowly lowered. As she rolled her sleeves up, she noticed Sai standing a little ways back and acknowledged him with a nod. He seemed to hesitate for a moment. And then he bent his head in a grudging bow.

"I'm sure Prince Naruto and his party are tired after their travels. Please escort them to their rooms to rest. We can all get to know one another better over supper," Sasuke said to one of the waiting nobles. They bowed in response. Sasuke then glanced at Sakura who raised her eyebrows in response.

"And you, my friend, I will see you for supper as well. I should wash the stink of horse off me," added Sasuke. Sakura cracked a wry smile.

"I should do the same. We will meet again as civilized humans, I suppose," answered Sakura. Without another glance in the direction of her cousin, Sakura turned and strode off down the hall in the direction of the western wing. Sasuke walked off in the opposite direction to his own room in the eastern wing.

Climbing up to the third floor, Sakura didn't bother to call for her servants to bathe. It wasn't long until supper would be served and she didn't want to interrupt what little time they had to eat before the scramble to serve the nobility. So she took a shower, scrubbing herself with the assortment of fragranced soaps and oils provided. And then she stood in front of the mirror running a comb through her long hair. She worked through each tangle with patience until her hair hung in a straight sheet down the side of her throat and over her chest.

When she opened the wardrobe, she found that her uniform had already been cleaned and placed inside. Even all the wrinkles had been neatly pressed out with an iron. Nodding approvingly at the diligence, she slipped into the crisp white blouse and folded the collar into place. She pulled on the tight white pants that, Sakura privately suspected, if she were to gain a few pounds, would no longer fit her. But for now, she buttoned the pants and they conformed perfectly to her legs. As she stood slipping cufflinks into her shirt, there was a knock on the door.

"General, may I enter?" Haku said after a moment.

"Yes," Sakura replied. When the door opened, Haku immediately averted her eyes. She held out something to her with both hands. Sakura reached out and took what turned out to be an envelope with a seal pressed into the wax.

"Prince Naruto requested that I deliver this to you. He said it was from your friend, General," Haku explained. But as soon as Sakura flipped the envelope over, she saw the bright seal holding the flap down. The shape of a boar was stamped into the red wax. With a sigh, she read the letter inside.

Dear Sakura,

I'm a little insulted you wouldn't stop by for tea before leaving, but I also understand you have your own obligations. I'm entrusting this letter to the Prince and hope you'll be able to read it during your journey. Hopefully he won't drop it in mud or accidentally set it on fire or whatever other bumbling things he does.

I miss you, obviously. I've been spending time with a private tutor recently, though and that's been able to occupy some of my time. Father says that a young noble lady does not need to be so educated. But mother said that the lady of a household should be knowledgeable, so she settled the matter. I'm learning history and literature in the mornings. My music tutor comes after lunch and he tortures me with the harp and the flute for a few hours. I would beg father to fire him, but he's so pleasant to look at that I can't bring myself to.

I expect letters from you. Many letters. Tell me about the court there. And be sure to let me know if any dashing young man catches your eye. And if that dashing young man has a friend, be a darling and let me know as well. I suspect that cousin of yours will whine and moan about your absence until you return. Hopefully I'll become skilled enough at the harp to drown out some of it.

Your friend,

Ino

Laughing a little, Sakura refolded the letter and set it down on the desk. She resumed buttoning her cuffs as she turned back to the mirror. Haku hovered in the entrance.

"Should I assist you, General?" she offered. But Sakura glanced at her for a moment before she shook her head.

"I didn't have any servants in the military academy or on the battlefield. I'm used to doing this much on my own," Sakura replied. Nodding, Haku tried to divert her troubled gaze elsewhere. As she folded her hands in front of her, she drew Sakura's attention again. When Sakura pulled her jacket from the armoire, Haku moved to help her. She held the jacket, guiding Sakura's arms through the sleeves. Sakura's sharp eyes trailed over her as she fit the buttons through the matching holes.

"You seem a little young. Are your parents part of the castle staff?" asked Sakura as she picked up the gold epaulettes that attached to the shoulders of her uniform. Haku quickly grabbed them to fix them in place. Chuckling a little at the enthusiasm, Sakura moved on to the braided lengths of gold cord called the aiguillette. It hung from the end of her right epaulette and fastened to the first button of her uniform. It was actually three cords hung together, supposedly to support the three principals of Konoha's military: Discipline, honor, and pride, the instructor's at the academy always recited. Not that anyone in charge seemed to possess any of those traits.

"No, General. My parents passed away last year," Haku replied as she finished adjusting the epaulettes to hang straight. The golden fringes sparkled nicely against the starched white of the jacket.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Sakura. Haku meekly bowed her head. She stood watching as Sakura brushed off the front of the uniform and then turned to look herself over in the mirror. Fingers tightening her ponytail, Sakura purposely kept her eyes trained on her reflection.

"Even so, I've been wondering about something. Would you mind if I asked you a question, Haku?" ventured Sakura. Haku's eyes widened.

"Of course not, General," she politely answered.

"How on earth did a boy come to disguise himself as a servant girl?" inquired Sakura.

Haku stood paralyzed while Sakura continued casually adjusting her hair and then her collar. With a nod, Sakura deemed herself satisfactory and then looked over her shoulder at Haku. The servant's dark eyes were wide and unmoving.

"Ah, that face tells me that I'm right. You wouldn't be very good at card games," observed Sakura. That seemed to jolt Haku out of the fright. Cheeks turning a deep shade of red, Haku gulped.

"Don't worry. It was out of personal curiosity that I asked. Your secret's safe with me," Sakura promised with a smile. Haku only nodded.

"That aside, let me know at once if a letter comes for me in the next day or so. I'm off to supper," she added. Clapping Haku once on the shoulder, Sakura flashed another smile before she strode past. The door swung shut after her and Haku stood still rooted in place. It would take a while for those feet frozen by terror to start working again.

And two days later, a letter did come for Sakura. A bird arrived with a letter, which Moegi brought to her, huffing and puffing.

"Whatever are you in such a rush for?" Sakura asked her as she watched Moegi struggle to catch her breath.

"Y-you said t-to-to bring your letter at...once…. General," Moegi gasped, still huffing and puffing. Sakura shook her head, half-impressed and half-concerned. She made the girl sit and drink a glass of water as she tore the letter open.

Dearest,

I'm glad to hear of your safe arrival in the Mountain Kingdom. I must confess that I'm flattered you would think to write to me so quickly upon your arrival. And I apologize in delaying my letter to you. Things have been rather busy in your absence.

I'll imagine that your new friend must be handsome to have you so flustered upon first meeting. I'd encourage you to woo him so you can marry, but I fear I would grow too jealous and slay him- I don't think you would approve of that.

It's good that the Uchiha's have received you warmly. I imagine that your trip through the wilderness with your horse was nothing short of a magnificent playdate. You never were good at sitting still for too long. The royal family's relationship with the Uchiha's has been improving lately so I strongly urge you to secure favor with them. The King of the Mountain Kingdom is a strong ally but an even stronger enemy.

Mother visited Whitewave briefly last month. She had business nearby and dropped in to see how I was doing. She says all is well at home. My cousin Gaara is running things well. Mother says it was a good choice on your part to appoint him as your regent in your obsence. The gold coffers are full but not overflowing. Last year's yield was good and this year's crops seem to be growing well as well. The people are content. I'd almost think the peace to be boring if I didn't know what the opposite result was.

Court, I suspect, will be dull (though it is with or without you). I'm scheduled to return back to the capital once this affair is over. There, I assume, the Queen will invite me to another one of her dreadful tea parties and try to set me up with some airheaded girl. But with you gone, I suppose I can make an excuse about needing to return home to Plumeria to help care for affairs.

To be honest with you, Darling, I am a bit glad that you were able to get away from all of this for a bit. Consider this your moratorium and enjoy it while it lasts. I hear the summer season in the mountains is temperate and mild- just the way you like it. My only request is that you not return home some haggard, pale mountain-woman. That might break my heart a little.

All my love,

Sasori

Sakura smiled as she read over the letter one more time. Sasori's sarcasm always managed to cheer her up.

By the time she had finished reading, Moegi looked much better. She had gotten to her feet and was busy fluffing the throw pillows on the couch.

"I'd like to write a response now. Would you bring it down for me in a little while?" Sakura requested. The girl nodded, her bangs bouncing across her forehead. She continued tidying up the rest of the apartment as Sakura sat at her desk to pen her response.

Just as she finished sealing her envelope in red wax, Sakura heard a knock on the door.

"Would you like to go visit the market? I've heard that the traveling performers there are very talented," Sasuke called out without bothering to enter. Sakura stamped her seal into the soft wax. She blew on it to cool it a little more before she handed it off to Moegi. As she opened the door, Sasuke, who had been leaning against it, stumbled inside one step before steadying himself.

"Off you go," she said. Moegi bowed to her, and then to Sasuke before she ran down the hallway.

"Would they have any seafood? I'm craving a good fish," said Sakura.

Sasuke made a face. "Well… river fish, they might have."

Sakura mirrored his expression. "Heavens, no, then."

Sasuke leaned against the door again as he watched Sakura backtrack. She closed the door to the bedroom. She double-checked to make sure that her sword was on her belt.

"Shall we go?" she then said.

Sasuke eyed her weapon. "What merchant are you planning to stab with that?" he wondered.

"What a novel idea. Forget haggling. Violence must be how people buy and sell in this country," she laughed in response. Sasuke snickered too at the absurdity of it all. He pushed off the door and made room for her to pass into the hallway.

+++

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 >

[ankhlesbian]

Leonie/Marianne - 5+1- 3/6

5 times Marianne and Leonie handle each others hair, and 1 time they don’t have to. (This is part 3 / 6) (part 1, part 2, or altogether on ao3).

Marianne sighed. She had wanted to go over to the stables to groom Dorte, but it was raining much heavier than she had anticipated. She drew back, biting her lip. The weather had been dreary already, and getting out of bed had taken more energy than she cared to admit, but anything was worth it for Dorte. But now… It really did seem like the goddess herself was personally sending her a message.

The bag full of brushes and ribbons and combs felt heavy on her arm. Well, it hadn’t been that long since she’d last braided Dorte’s tail and mane. It was maybe a little overzealous of her to do it again so quickly…

“Ow! Shit!”

Ah, right. Marianne was right outside the ground floor rooms. That had sounded a bit like Leonie. Marianne had never actually been to her room. Or anyone’s room, really. She had seen Mercedes leaving her room when they were both on the way to the cathedral for their daily prayers, but that was about it.

That door was Mercedes… so one of the other two must be Leonie. She took a hesitant step towards the doors. Would she really be of use? Or would she just be bothering her? She had said she was never a both, but she couldn’t always know that would be the case.

There was another burst of cursing. Whatever was going on in there, she could at least tell Leonie to go see someone who could handle it.

She knocked before she could second guess herself. There was a pregnant pause, the only noise the rain pattering down onto the wood above. Then Leonie’s door swung open. She was rubbing one ear with a cloth, and looked a bit ruffled.

“Ah, is this a bad time?”

“Marianne! Not at all! I mean, I was doing something, but I had to take a break anyways. You’re always welcome to visit.” She gestured awkwardly and stepped back from the door.

Marianne now faced the dilemma of where to sit. She felt embarrassment crawling up her neck as the seconds ticked on. This was such a silly idea.

“You can sit on the bed, it’s comfier. My desk is kind of cluttered right now.”

Leonie didn’t strike her as the kind of person to be overly messy. She carefully made her way to the bed and sat down, back hunched, hands folded in her lap, her bag nestled beside her feet on the ground.

Leonie shut the door and moved to her desk, pushing aside a pile consisting of oil, scissors, and a towel.

“I was trying to give myself a trim, but I nicked myself instead. We usually traded haircuts for haircuts back in the village, so I’m not as good at using the mirror to coordinate it. Not the wisest circumstance to wield pointy things by your ears in, I know.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, where her hair was indeed shaggier than what Marianne was used to picturing when she thought of Leonie.

“I-I hope your ear’s okay.”

Leonie grinned. “It’s definitely seen worse. I’ve had my ears boxed and wet willy’d plenty.” She settled back into her chair, seemingly satisfied with the new placement of her haircutting set-up. “What’ve you been up to today? Bit slow without any classes, huh?”

Marianne shuffled one foot, nudging the bag at her foot. “I was on my way to groom Dorte, but it looks like the goddess didn’t permit it…”

Leonie chuckled. “I guess she figured the crops needed rain more than Dorte needed brushing. She’s always the prettiest horse in the stables, you know. Ferdinand and Lorenz were both jealous when they saw her the other day. Serves them right! If they spent less time prattling on about nonsense and spent more time with their horses, maybe they’d stand a chance. You have a good eye for that kind of thing.”

“Um, Lorenz probably has a better fashion sense than I do…”

“Even if he does, he doesn’t apply it like you do!” Leonie pulled the cloth from her ear and glanced down at it. “Do you mind if I finish up with this? I don’t want to end up with hair as messy as Sylvain’s.”

Marianne looked up at that. What if Leonie cut herself again?

“M-Maybe I could do it?”

Leonie blinked but then beamed. “Really? I’d definitely appreciate it!”

Marianne rose and shuffled over, carefully surveying Leonie’s desk. Leonie picked up the towel, which was already speckled with bits of orange hair, and slung it around her neck.

“Most of it should be taken care of already. Even though you have to cut it more often, short hair really is just easier to manage.” Leonie settled her arms on the desk, propping her head up with one hand. Marianne cautiously picked up the scissors. Just like trimming Dorte…

“I actually used to have it long. My parents just never bothered to cut it. And then one day I was out messing around in the woods and got stuck in a bush! I was trying to follow a rabbit trail. My hair was so tangled they had to come and cut it all off to free me. I was kind of upset, but more about losing the rabbit than the hair. And I just haven’t looked back since. It takes less water and soap to clean and it never gets in my eyes.”

Snip. Snip. Marianne ran the fingers of her free hand through the strands to hold them up and comb out any spare hairs. Leonie’s hair was a bit bristly, like straw. She couldn’t imagine it curling everywhere like Sylvain’s even if she did grow it out.

“Ah, sorry if I’m rambling. You’re free to talk, too. No conversation is bad.”

“That’s alright. I don’t think I have much to say today… But it’s nice to hear someone else talk.”

Snip. Snip. Brushing her fingers against Leonie’s neck to clear it of any itchy hairs.

“Well, that’s definitely in my wheelhouse. You have a free pass to tell me to cram it and shut up some other day, though! Now, where was I.. Ah, right. No one in the village would let me live that down until a few months later, when I did something even more fun to gossip about. I was out on one of my first real hunts…”

Marianne made sure to listen, but she kept her focus on Leonie’s hair. If she messed something up, Leonie would have to wear uneven hair or go bald. Better to not have either of those happen. Clipping hair was at least something she could do, and something her Crest couldn’t interfere with. It was simple and repetitive.

When Leonie seemed to falter in what to say, Marianne managed to pipe in.

“Um, how are things with your mare?”

Which led Leonie down another winding rant. Her and that mare had more in common than either of them would ever say. The thought made Marianne’s lips curl upwards in a small smile.

When she was finally done, she drew back as Leonie craned her neck to examine her hair in the mirror.

“Hey, that looks great! Maybe I should get you to help out with all my haircuts.”

Marianne wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Leonie seemed to notice and cleared her throat.

“At the very least, I owe you one. If you ever need a favor, just let me know, alright?”

Marianne nodded, though she wanted to insist Leonie had done her a favor. The day certainly seemed better now than it had an hour ago. Maybe if she was lucky, the rain would even stop by the evening. Dorte would be excited to hear the update about Leonie’s horse. Maybe she’d even have her own gossip to share from the mare’s perspective.

[ashleyswrittenwords]

How to be a Queen [Part 14]

Summary: Princess Zelda is at a loss. Her handed royal responsibilities have begun to weigh heavily on her and she is eventually backed into a corner. Live a life she loathes or run away from everything she’s ever known? Navigating life is hard, and Link forces her to learn that she doesn’t have to do it alone.

Warning: Nothing to mention.

Previous

Next

Part 1

How To Be A Queen

I woke up to warmth that morning.

The kind of heart that makes you ball up tightly to greedily gain more. It starts from the outside and burrows within to warm the heart without being too intense that you want to stray away from the source. With a sleepy nonsensical mumble, I pushed myself deeper into the covers and felt them tighten around me like a cocoon. This is what divinity must feel like.

Against my will, the world slowly felt more real as the sleep slipped off of my subconscious. An odd feeling of being in my bed in Castle Town dissipated as the ground below felt more like a stone slab than a feather stuffed mattress. Then, the sheets around my waist loosened and the warmth slowly faded. My forehead creased in annoyance.

The sound of shifting reached my ears and I roused awake. From the makeshift bed on the ground, I rubbed my eyes and watched Link pack away our belongings. Golden crests cut into the horizon. There was less snow on the ground than the days prior and it gave me hope to remember the place we were heading towards.

“Good morning,” I said scratchily. My eyes were still adjusting, but Link being the first thing I saw today was still rewarding. I doubted I would ever get used to it. He took the blanket from the horse’s back and was folding it, his gaze more on me than the cloth.

Suddenly, I felt self-conscious under his quiet observing. His eyes were vacant, drawn in and thoughtful. I sat up. “Do you need help?”

Link seemed to snap out of his trance and looked away momentarily, “No. No, I’ve got just about everything. You can go back to sleep, it’s still early.”

I sharply gasped as I ripped the blanket from body and the morning chill robbed me of the rest of the heavenly warmth. My coat dangled from Link’s grasp and I tore it from him.

“Tired of the cold already?” He snickered.

I resented the comment, but gladly slipped the coat on. There wasn’t much said between up as we packed our gear and smoldered what was left of the fire. Link helped me onto the horse and paused. I looked at him questionably.

“Let me see your hand.”

I complied, putting mine neatly in his. The bandages were unbloodied this time and my wrist was less bruised. That is to say, it was still an ugly sight. The skin around it was brown and discolored, but it wasn’t as painful.

He tenderly moved my hand upward, bending my wrist and watching my reaction. I swallowed a wince. “We can probably remove the sutures soon. The cuts weren’t too deep. I only hope that the scars will heal if there are any.”

Link let go and took the reins. I examined it on my own, “Scars aren’t bad. Plenty of people have scars.”

The mare started forward as Link did. He looked back at me, an indistinguishable look on his face, “I’d prefer you not have any at all.”

“How boring,” I yawned. “When do you think we’ll be there?”

“A couple days’ time. Once we pass through Hyrule Field it should start getting warmer,” Link said, “We can probably pawn off the coats for extra money and get more suitable outfits for the climate.”

“Do you…” I paused, tracing the upside of my hand, “Do you suppose we could stop at the Temple of Time?”

There was a slight tremor in my voice and I covered it up with a cough.

“Hey,” he started. “I go wherever you go, right?”

Link grinned and I matched it. His eyes stayed on mine for a moment before focusing on the road. I watched him as he walked, resting my elbows on the saddle and my chin in my hands. His heavy coat was resting in his hands and with Link’s back to me, I studied him. He was thumbing something over in his left hand. “Have I ever told you how thankful I am for you?”

The blond man didn’t both turning, “Probably, but it doesn’t hurt to keep reminding me.”

“Well, I am. Very much so.”

His broad shoulders jolted up to symbolize a laugh. I had seen plenty of men. And though that statement wasn’t a proud one, it was true. Suitors were a commodity that wasn’t hard to come by. Father had many advisors that pushed out invitations to dukes, lords, and princes of neighboring kingdoms to socialize with their barren princess. All walks of life had passed through the castle gates and on all accounts it was an awkward affair. I hadn’t a clue who they were and many were decades my senior. Regardless, I felt like I had a decent grasp on the male sex. Due to this, I was sure that Link was objectively beautiful.

Objectively.

An objective statement for anyone with eyes and a male attraction.

A flush crept up my neck as I observed the muscles under his shirt move. What kind of scars does he have? I gulped down my urges and with a hardened will battened down my feelings into a place far removed from the present. This wasn’t… proper.

Right. Proper.

The ride was long and repeating and I constantly wondered how he knew the way. The trees blended into a seamless scenery. It was evident that not many liked to travel in the winter because it was rare we’d pass a couple traders in a day. I had long given up on veiling myself from others on the offset that they’d recognize me. Despite the attempt to comb my hair, it had long turned into a long-tangled mess that I tied up to the base of my head. Stray strands hung to frame my face and I let myself let go to the traveling conditions. Not that there was much of a choice.

Night had fallen and the air was warmer than ever before. The looming cliffs of The Great Plateau was just nearing, and you could see it in the horizon. Now, the sun had long set and Link had managed to kindle a fire.

It was dark now and the only light sources were the fire and the stars themselves. A bottle of alcohol sat beside us and I flinched as he poured it onto my fingers. “I’m sorry,” Link muttered. His eyes were just as intense as the smell. He held a pair of small tweezers in his hand and my hand was in his. Our legs were partially tangled together as he pulled me closer to gain a better look.

“Are you alright? You seem uncomfortable,” Link whispered, looking worried.

I shook my head slightly, “I’m nervous.”

“That’s normal. You’ll feel slight pressure and maybe a pinch. It shouldn’t be painful, Zel. I promise,” he switches his attention to the sutures. Goddesses, I hated the sight. It wasn’t pleasant to see bloodied reinforced thread sticking out of your skin.

The metal of the tweezers was cold against my skin and I watched Link’s face instead of the stitch being cut. He was focused, his face relaxed but his mouth drawn in a fine line. It wasn’t painful, at most uncomfortable when he pulled the suture free. Eventually, he switched to my pointer finger.

“Okay?” He looked up shortly.

I nodded, “Okay.”

His bowed head wasn’t far from mine and his hair hung in front of his face. As he clipped away at the threads, I reached up with my opposite hand and smoothed the hair back. It wasn’t long enough to tuck behind his ear, but this would do. Link looked up, his brow forming the question in his mind.

“I’m helping,” I said indignantly, keeping my hand steady on his head. It was difficult to distinguish if that was the true reason or if it was merely a chance to touch him. The excuse seemed to satisfy him and he went back to his work. It didn’t take long to finish.

“There. it’s not perfect,” he sighed and leisurely threw the excess bandages and the sutures into the fire. My hand dropped from his forehead. Thin pink lines dotted my fingers where the incisions were. “Looks fine to me,” I said.

“I still want you to see a doctor when we get closer to Gerudo Town. Maybe they’ll have something to lessen the scars and a proper brace for your wrist.” Link seemed to talk more to himself while he busied himself with accounting for what was in our small emergency kit, rummaging shortly before drawing it shut and placing it with the rest of our belongings.

I eyed the alcohol bottle, “What kind is that?”

He looked up at me, to the bottle and back with a raised eyebrow, “Some local liquor.” We had gotten it from a passing trader and apparently pure alcohol was difficult to come by, so it was the next best thing. I had never drunk straight liquor before nor anything close to it. The only types of alcohol I had associated myself with was ricewine and champagne.

“Ouch, oof,” I gave him a pained look, “Ow, my wrist. It hurts. Guess I need something to take the edge off.” I shrugged, watching him as I reached for the neck of the bottle. He looked lazily back with his head propped on his knee. Link looked amused, “To take the edge off? Where’d you hear that from?”

“None of your business,” I pursed my lips. In all honesty I wasn’t sure. Most likely my uncle.

He looked cheeky. “Why do you feel the need to make excuses to me?”

I frowned, “I don’t.”

The glass liquor bottle wasn’t too big and it was unlabeled. It was dark and the smell was just as strong. I brought the opening to my lips and lifted the bottle. Once the liquor touched my tongue, I wrenched it away and winced harshly as it burned in my mouth. With a strong gulp, I forced it down my throat with a vehement shake to my head.

“I hate it. I hate it,” tears formed in my eyes, “Hylia above, I hate it.”

Link laughed heartily and took the bottle. “Did it take the edge off?”

“Shush,” I glowered, wiping my eyes with my shirt. “I just wanted to try it.”

“The man probably just came from the Gerudo region. Drinks usually get stronger the closer you get,” he said, taking a generous swig. Link winced slightly, though not having much of the reaction as I had. “That’s pretty bad.”

“You talk like you have experience,” I said laying on my back to get a closer look at the stars. They were brighter tonight. The full moon was rising, casting a white glow on the sky. “Oh, yes,” he laughed breathily and followed by lying down beside me. I pushed down the happiness I felt as he continued to speak, “Years of diligent training for this moment.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmhm, this very moment.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “Could be worse.”

A series of giggles erupted from me and I held onto my stomach. Calming down only to smile at him. “You’re impossible.”

Link smiled back, his eyes looking for something. Then a flash of worry crossed him, “Is your wrist alright, though?”

“It’s fine, Link,” I smiled wider at his concern. “I was being dramatic.”

“Oh, good,” he let his head fall back to look at the sky. “Good.”

I grabbed the bottle from him and sat up slightly. The next sip wasn’t as bad because I knew what to expect, but it was still awful. The liquor burned like fire down to my stomach and laid back down.

“Hey, Link?”

He seemed to keep up in terms of drinking, “Hm.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Only if you want to tell me,” he coughed into his elbow.

“And you won’t freak out?”

Link turned to look at me and I met his eyes. “Depends.”

The need to talk filled my mind. To talk about things I wasn’t supposed to. His eyes were prying, already figuring out what I was going to say before my lips voiced it. Link always did that, and I wondered how right he tended to be. It felt… strangely intimate. My lungs filled with air and I slowly breathed out, “I… well, my father is convinced that there is a prophecy that a force from a thousand years ago will come back and soon.”

I watched his reaction and that indistinguishable look was back. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s all?”

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

“N-no.”

He rested his arms under his head and sat waiting, “I’m listening.”

I spoke slowly, nervously. My fingers squeezed down on my right palm. “Impa and Father are convinced that I have some kind of powers from the Goddess that could fight off whatever it is.”

“You?”

My voice came out meek, “Yes.”

“Do you believe that?” His face didn’t give away whatever he was thinking, which was annoying in this situation. It would be helpful to know if he thought I was speaking rationally or a raving lunatic.

“Maybe? I don’t know. It started at Mum’s funeral. They swore they saw light coming from my hand and… at that age who else was I supposed to believe? I was convinced, but ever since then there was nothing. They told me to pray, I did. They told me to study the ancient texts, I did. Eventually I gave up,” I spoke into the air, “It took up so much time that I forgot how to live properly. There’s been no goddess to speak to me. No calamity had happened. I just… this sounds crazy doesn’t it?”

“I pulled the Master Sword at seventeen,” Link said nonchalantly.

I bolted up, “You what?!” My head spun. I knew my tolerance was low, but this was unbelievable.

“How… what… how? Why don’t… where is it? Really?” My words flew from my mouth unintelligibly.

Link peered up, staring at me. A thin smile played on his lips at my reaction. “The King suggested it. They dropped me off at the Lost Woods with a torch and a couple days’ worth of food and left. And, well, I found it.”

“It’s real?” I breathed, sitting back down lamely.

“And rather bulky if you ask me.”

“Where is it? I mean, you never brought it with you.”

He grew uncomfortable and awkwardly laughed, “Under my bed at the castle.”

“Why didn’t I know about this? It’s a rather important detail, Link,” I laid back down on my side, now frustrated.

“I only know that they didn’t want it to be a public fiasco. I don’t know much about that,” he gazed at me, unfolding his arms so our eyesight was even. “I apologize, I should have told you.”

“You didn’t know to tell me,” I brought my heads up, grasping them together. “Do you think it’ll happen? That prophecy? I-I mean, this is a lot. If someone pulled the sword then that means there’s a reason. I’ve read it time and time again. Every time Hyrule faces some type of calamity that stupid sword appears.” And all this time I had convinced myself it was just a fable. From the prophecy to the sword to even the Triforce. I sunk further into my position in the grass, reeling.

“I have as much of a clue as you do. Do you want to know what I really think?” Link was closer than before and the smell of liquor was on his lips. I nodded slightly and he took my right hand gingerly. “I think that,” he placed my hand between his own, “you - Zelda, the princess of Hyrule – are strong, powerful, and undeniably resilient when it comes to what you believe in. If anyone had to rise to the occasion of protecting Hyrule, then I’m sure happy it’s you.”

His fingers traced a triangle on the upside of my palm, “Whether you have the help of Hylia or not.”

Then, he pressed his lips against my hand. My breath hitched. Link’s lips were chapped and warm. The doubt I felt for myself withered and all my thoughts were suddenly preoccupied with the man who laid next to me. And just as quick as it happened, he dropped my hand and left mumbling something about firewood. He left me alone with the ghost of his kiss.

[alitheamateur]

Party of Three

TOMMY CONLON ONESHOT

Characters: Tommy Conlon/OFC

Warnings: NSFW. Explicit Sexual Content. Language. Brief mentions of childbirth. Fluffy fluffy fluffy.

Party of Three

*Quite lengthy. I just got carried away with Tommy Conlon. It happens to the best of us*

(GIF NOT MINE)

The strobing of a weak streetlight bulb flickered as the haze of dawn drew pink and orange waves of the sunrise in the Pittsburgh skyline. While most 31-year-old, sensible men were still tucked into their Egyptian cotton sheets, nuzzled into the crook of their college-sweetheart turned lawyer wife, Tommy was jogging alone before daylight half withdrawn from the 8 days without Oxy. The sweat sagging neck of his hoodie smelled of exercise and rock-bottom, and his stomach churned from the lack of practical nourishment his breakfast of whiskey and dry-toast lacked. His night-shifts down at the new factory mended his bank account enough, so he had finally relocated from the mildewed, night-mare stained childhood bedroom at his pop’s place. The paint was chipped, the carpet was slimy and stonewashed, and the bathroom sink seemed to be eternally clogged, but his name was on the lease. It belonged to him, and it was his own to tarnish, and morph into a lifetime den of twisted memories. 

He rounded the final corner of his 3-mile journey, approaching the two-stepped stoop of his gray townhouse and the chugging engine of a garbage truck roared up the street beside him. He turned, nodding an empty ‘good-morning’ to the driver exhaling his nicotine morning breath out the window, when a yelping body apparently below his peripheral line of sight collided with his stalky glide.

“What the fu-“

His dry-worked hands skidded across the crumpling sidewalk to keep his teeth from implanting into the concrete, and smashing whatever lightening quick object had made its way under his running feet.

“Cole! Oh my God, are you alright, sweetie?!”

Tommy felt a squirming, snubbing mass finagle free, to run towards the safety of the panicked, flailing arms of the fitful brunette galloping down the driveway. A small boy with a shaggy bowl haircut, decked in the white-cotton threads of a karate suit, wiped the streaking tears down his flushed cheeks, and wrapped his lanky arms around the waist of what appeared to be his older sister. Aunt, maybe?

“I’m so sorry. He’s a little excited. He ran ahead of me out the front door before I could wrangle him up. Are you hurt?” The striking hazel eyes of a petite face framed in chocolate, wavy mane knelt to assess the child for bruises or blood.

“I’m uh… Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Is he… is he okay?” Tommy stuttered, searching his face for injury.

“No blood, no foul. Right, sweetie?”

“I’m not hurt, mommy. Boys who know karate are tough, ‘member?” He peered up at his young mother, puffing his chest to allude imaginary muscles there.

“That’s right, how could I forget?!” She conked a fist to her noggin at the little man beside her. “I’m Whitleigh, by the way. And this is Cole. We live next door now. Just moved in a few days ago.” The lady outstretched a shaking hand, and Tommy noted the lack of a ring on her left hand.

“Oh yeah? I saw some movin’ trucks out front. I’m Tommy. Tommy Conlon.” His clammy palm met her feminine skin, and he might’ve even weakly smiled at the sensation of her touch. “So, karate, huh? You prolly a real scrapper, ain’t ya’?”

“You’re um, you’re a fighter or something, aren’t you? I’ve seen you in the paper before, I think.”

Tommy dropped his head diffidently at her inquisitiveness, peeling back his hood to palm the back of his blotched neck.

“Really? You fight people? Like, like a real-life wrestler?!” Cole yipped, eyes widening at Tommy like he was some superstar in the flesh.

“Uhhh, somethin’ like that, I guess. But, I couldn’t take you, that’s for sure.” Tommy weak fisted the boys bicep, and he chuckled with a snaggle-toothed smile.

“Well, we better get goin’. Cole has a big meet this morning down at the Y, and we’re already running late. See you around?” She suggestively hurried the boy up the drive towards her black sedan parked near the front porch, combing the blonde hair from his eyes.

“Right, yeah. Um, I’m sure I’ll be seein’ you guys.” Tommy cleared the lump in his throat. He hadn’t exchanged a conversation of this length with another human being in months, and his mouth felt tired from the foreign amount of chit-chat.

“Mommy, can Mr. Tommy come watch me today? My friends would think I was the best if a tv fighter came to my match!”

Whitleigh’s mouth fell open into a slack smile as she clicked the boy into his back-seat booster. Her eyes caught the rising sun, and Tommy felt an unfamiliar stir somewhere near his heart. Like, maybe there was actually a beating organ inside his scathed, tattooed chest.

“Not today, buddy. I’m sure he’s got lots to do. Maybe another time though, alright?”

Tommy coughed, and scratched his five o’clock shadowed jawbone. “You can show me those skills some other time, Cole. Good luck today, though.”    

The adolescent lad nodded with hopefulness, and she latched the rear-door while coyly smiling at Tommy from a distance.

Tommy turned his back, stomping up his porch and beginning to peel loose the ratty confines of his sleeveless sweatshirt. This newfound, sudden appearance of tangible emotion had him questioning his insane decision of recent painkiller sobriety.

……

Whitleigh and Cole settled nicely on the block, and next door to Tommy, the man they both had inherited a specific soft spot for. The impressionable, aspiring karate kid carefully noted his fighting role models routine, and would wake up every morning before the birds even began stirring, to watch Tommy stretch, and yawn as he jogged down the sidewalk, only keeping track of him when his shadow would fall into the glare of a streetlight. Then, he’d settle back beneath the rumpled covers of his plaid patterned sheets, and wait for his mother to rouse him for school.

Whitleigh’s sprouting intrigue for the brawny man next door however, was certainly one of a more adult rated nature. She found herself tip-toeing passed the living room window more often than necessary to check for stirring in the house next door. Was he home? Was he home alone again? She waited specifically unnervingly for another excruciatingly hot evening hoping the sticky summer sun would have him washing his motorcycle shirtless on the curb again, covered in sweat and cool drippings from the water hose. He was like living, breathing, X-rated erotica for her to enjoy at her leisure. Not only had he been candy for her eye, but his extreme observance, and need to protect she and Cole moved her greatly. If the motion light she nailed over the backdoor detected any movement, and clicked on, she’d find Tommy peeping through his own curtains as she did the same, investigating the surroundings. And when the mailman seemed to be lingering on her porch one morning while she drank her coffee in the swing, Tommy ran him off quite harshly, informing her the guy was a no good, ex-con.

One Saturday evening, she was scurrying, and tripping over her own two feet trying to wag in grocery bags with the help of her as always very active 6 year-old. The thin strap of her black, flowing tank top was sliding over tip of her shoulder, and she blew a lock of her untamable hair from her eyes, giggling as Cole’s hiccups from gulping his slushy too fast on the car ride home echoed from behind her.

The trunk of her car slammed to a close, and she heard the rustling plastic of more bags being unloaded.

“Tommy! Hey, Tommy look! My tongue, is it blue?!” Cole’s toothless lisp screeched at the man walking up the steps with an impressive amount of cargo lined on each arm.

“Yeah, buddy. It is. Whatchu been into, ya’ lil smurf.”

“He insisted on a slushy at the grocery. And he did so well at practice this morning I just couldn’t say no.” Whitleigh smiled, pinching her tongue to aid in concentration as she maneuvered for the front door key.

“I got a medal, too. Most ‘intuned’ in the class!”

“Most-improved, baby. You’re most-improved.”

Tommy, and the child’s mom chuckled to themselves, careful not to discourage Cole and his little blunder. She kicked the door open easily, Tommy catching it with his own foot to prop it open for Cole and the measly two bags he carried.

“Hey uh, how would you feel about maybe takin’ a run with me in the morning, Cole. It’s gonna be a hot one, and I could sure use somebody to go with me. You down? If your mom says it’s okay, o’ course.” He tousled a noogie over the boys head, and looked side-eyed to Whitleigh as she lunged upward to store the unloaded contents in the cabinet.

The waistline of her light-washed, denim capris clung perfectly fitted to her displayed backside, and Tommy caught a glance of her tanned lower back. Her figure wasn’t toned, and gym-fit like the twenty-something, single women around town. But the way her womanly hips curved, and her thick thighs from the exercise of chasing the likes of a hyperactive kindergartener moved, very much had Tommy’s approval.

“Oh, Tommy… I don’t think you really want him tagging along. Won’t he slow you down? And you’d have to keep a really close eye on him. It’s barely daylight when you leave.”

She turned away, mouthing curses to herself for giving away that she had seen him leave the house a few times before dawn when she heard the pattering racket of his front door closing. Cole wasn’t the only person on dutiful neighborhood watch. She may, or may not have been checking to see if it was indeed a female making her break for it after a night of tantric rolling in the sheets with her unannounced crush.

“He’ll be fine, Whit. I’m not incapable of taking care of a kid, y’ know…” He rolled his eyes, trying and failing to appear insulted.

“MOMMA, MOMMA! Please, please, can I go wif’ Tommy? Please!”

The mother hen sighed, and reluctantly nodded the granting consent and Cole began hipping and hopping circles around the kitchen counter, throwing in a few of his martial arts kicks, and grunts to boot. His erratic spinning of circles weighed heavy on his balance, and Tommy caught his wheezing, giggly body before he toppled face-first onto the floor.

“Alright, kid. You better get to bed early for ya’ mom tonight. I’ll be here for you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Whitleigh’s heart, among other things were warmed watching the way this mysteriously gentle, yet rough around the edges man had already taken such a liking to her young son. Friends for a single-mother were rare to come by, and she intended somehow to relay her gratitude to Tommy for his blind kindness to the both of them.

 She sat her alarm for 4 a.m., allowing herself 30 minutes extra to peel Cole from underneath his plethora of stuffed friends in his bed, but was taken aback when she found him sitting cross-legged in the floor of his bedroom when she opened his door.

“Cole! What do you think you’re doing?! We don’t play with scissors, do you hear me?” She yanked the ragged blade of her kitchen shears out of his grips, and scolded his disobedient act.

She assessed him thoroughly, searching for any nicks or cuts on his arms or legs, then groaned out when she realized what he had done. A still tagged sweatshirt she had bought him back at Christmas was missing a sleeve, and the other hung on jaggedly by a thread.

“Honey, what did you do, huh?” She sighed, and searched Cole’s explanatory eyes.

“I wanted mine to be like Tommy’s, mommy.”

Cole had abstractly chopped the leaves of his hooded shirt to mock Tommy and his DIY running attire. She wanted to be angry, and she would be internally. But, she couldn’t help but laugh at his clever thinking.

She wet his toothbrush and watched him brush, then double knotted his tennis shoes before stepping out the front door to wait for Tommy. The silken robe tied around her waist covered her braless chest, and the men’s boxer briefs she unconventionally used as pajama bottoms.

Next door, Tommy was readying his post-run protein shake, setting aside some ingredients for a kid-friendly edition, thinking Cole would want his own when they returned. He couldn’t make sense of what he felt for the boy, or the fact that he was feeling anything period. Maybe, he saw flashes of himself in Cole’s fatherless lie? Did he want the kid to have some male in his life that encouraged him, and taught him the way a man should behave, and treat people? Sure, maybe Tommy wasn’t the most equipped man for the job, but he knew not to beat women, or lay hands on children. Which was more than his own father ever bothered to teach him.

He poked a finger through his kitchen blinds, the window that looked directly across the driveway into Whitleigh’s bedroom, and saw some lamp light peeking out behind her darkened curtain, alluding she was awake and readying Cole. He wondered aimlessly if he should extend the invite for her to join he and Cole, but remembered how she often teases him for his ‘meathead’ lifestyle. Tommy knew she appreciated his workout habits more than she let on though. Her sideways good morning glances at him while he did his routine 100 jumps of the rope before his 8 a.m. spar told him so. However well his stupid abs, or bulgy biceps usually helped him reel in the brainless groupies down at the bar he frequented, he knew Whitleigh needed more. His grunts, and sulks wouldn’t be enough to impress her.

He shook himself out of the spiraling abyss of questioning, and almost grabbed a shot glass to smother the thoughts. But, he’d need to be sharp, and responsible with Cole if he wanted to remain in good standing with the beautiful family next door.

He left his side door unlocked behind him, as he walked the minimal steps from his house to the residence next door. Cole was bouncing up and down the steps, spitting impersonations of an airplane, or a tractor maybe, chasing an imaginary object around the yard. His mom sat arms crossed on the stoop, her half-exposed thighs fidgeting with the morning chill. Tommy admired her without the touches of makeup, and with the lingering dark circles of a less than restful night.

“Tommy, hey look! Look at me!” Cole galloped into Tommy’s arms, grinning ear to ear, and pounding his chest.

“I caught the little troublemaker in his room with scissors before I got up morning. He took the liberty of nixing the sleeves from that brand-new sweatshirt. Wanted to look like Tommy, didn’t you, bub?” Whitleigh sarcastically smirked, standing at Tommy’s arrival.

He looked at Cole in his arms, giggling uncontrollably at the boy’s miniature hoodie cut to resemble the one he was also wearing. He became instantly afraid, dazed with pressure even. He hadn’t realized the intense way that Cole had indeed been noting him, and observing his every move. A duty to tow the line, and keep on his toes for the sponge of a child settled hard on his heart.

“You look badass, buddy!”

“Tommy!!” Whitleigh scolded with lightening speed.

“I.. Uh, I mean… You look awesome, bro. Real uh.. real cool. Yeah, that’s what I meant.” Tommy coughed and clambered to bury his little expletive mistake.

“Watch him. Please…” She cocked her head, pleading to him with a crinkled nose. “You listen to Tommy, Cole. And stay right by his side, got it?”

“Yeah, momma. I be good, won’t I Tommy?” Cole yanked on Tommy’s long arm, pulling with all his might to hurry him down the road.

“We’ll be fine. No worries, okay? Be back in a couple hours or so. I’ve got my cell if we need ya’.”

She peered down the empty, slow streets of Saturday until the pair turned the corner out of her sight. Tommy glanced back a couple of times, with Cole following suit to wave at her smiling on the porch. She trusted her son was in good hands, and it was safe to squeeze in a least another hour cat nap before breakfast.

 Her cellphone vibrated and buzzed off the side of her end table next to the couch, awaking her with an incoming call. The lazy slumber passing immediately at the disturbance, as she feared the worst expecting trouble with Cole. Tommy’s named lit up across the touchscreen, and she said ‘hello’ before the call had even connected.

“Incoming. Just wanted to make sure you were awake.” Tommy meekly whispered.

She abruptly stood from her couch, peering out the glass storm door, to see the man shoving his phone down into the slick pocket of his shorts, and Cole’s legs dangling around Tommy’s waist.

Jumping barefoot outside, Tommy lifted a hand to calm her, and slow her down before she woke the snoozing child.

“Shhhh.. Hey hey hey, he’s fine, Whit. He’s fine. He got sleepy about 2 miles in, and said his legs were tired,” he smiled sweetly. “So I just carried him back. He fell asleep about 10 minutes ago, I think. At least that’s when he stopped talking about Power Rangers, so I think that’s when anyways.”

Whitleigh reached forth, opening her arms for Tommy to pass the petite, sleeping mass to her so she could settle him inside. But he shook his head under his hood, and continued towards her house.

“I got ‘em. Just lead the way.”

He walked quietly on her heels down the hallway, barely lit with the yellow glow of the sun’s onset towards Cole’s bedroom. Posters of MMA circuit fighters, and a few baseball stars pinned to white walls, and a nightlight near his bed in the shape of a boxing glove. He imagined it would’ve been a room much like his own had he not had to share the small, attic space with his older brother who cared more about women and cars rather than fighting. On Cole’s nightstand, stained with the wet circle of last night’s glass of water, was a portrait of he and Tommy dressed in matching karate garb, drawn in faded marker.

“Best friends, huh?” Tommy nodded towards the misspelled words on the work of art, catching Whitleigh’s eye as she nestled him under the comforter, kissing his reddened cheek.

“He made it last night,” she answered. “I couldn’t get him into bed until he finished. He was planning to give it to you after the little jog this morning.”

“The kid has good taste in friends. What can I say?”

“I guess so. The verdict is still out.” She winded a hand through the tangled ends of her hair, leaving a tiny crack in the door as they scurried out so she could peep in on him later.

“Well, share that pot of coffee I smell, and I’ll see if I can convince ya’.”

He watched her dainty, painted toes stick to the cool floor as she swayed slowly into the kitchen, and he wafted his shirt to let some cool air onto his perspiring chest. He let his brain simmer on the possibilities of what was hidden prettily under the pink robe that skimmed just above a thin scar on her knee.

“Cream and sugar?” She peeped as the pour of coffee flowed into the bottom of a ceramic mug.

“Nah, black is good.”

Whitleigh served two cups, and tucked her leg underneath her as she sat in the wooden chair across the table from him. She fiddled with the silver chain hanging from her neck, only more attracting Tommy to the fluttering gape of her robe as she moved in her seat.

“Was he good for you? Didn’t give you any trouble or anything?”

“He’s a real good kid, Whitleigh. Honest. You done a real good job wit’ him.”

His lips squished on the rim of the cup as he slurped the bitter brew, and she felt her center ignite.

“Thanks, Tommy. It doesn’t hurt that I’ve got somebody like you around to be an example to him either…”

Her lashes cast a fluttering, unmeasurably lengthy shadow over the rim of her lower lid onto her cheek, and Tommy had to situate his visibly growing attraction to her. The strength and steady head she displayed in raising her son alone, the way she held her composure day in, & day out with work and managing a household. What wasn’t to like? The heavy swell of her bosom, and the way her smile seemed to be effortlessly seductive no matter the occasion didn’t hurt matters.

“Trust me… My shit isn’t together even half of what yours is. But, I like the kid, so I’ll help any way you need me. I kinda like hangin’ around you two.”

Tommy didn’t want her to mistake his comments as a come on, but the other half of his shifty brain hoped she would, and maybe he’d get some clarity on how she felt towards him. He couldn’t handle the subtle exchanges, and cheeky stealing looks. Tommy wasn’t the type who played well at cat & mouse, unless he was standing in the cage toying with his next victim.

Neither had really noticed how many wordless seconds had ticked by until the rhythmic drip of the kitchen faucet splashed towards the drain, shaking them to reality. Tommy gulped, scratching his forearm nervously and looked around the room pointlessly, while Whitleigh raised to tend to the leak. She shook the handle, jiggled the spout, and Tommy heard her murmur a ‘piece of shit’ under her breath. He scooted the chair from under him, and rounded the table sitting his empty glass there, to take her side.

“I can fix that, if you want. Not a problem at all.”

He meant to stand to next to her and estimate the appliance issue, but instead he settled his feet behind hers on the kitchen mat, and extended around under her arm. He saw the hairs on Whitleigh’s arm raise, and his exhales ensued goosebumps where her shoulder met her neck. Her fruity scent tickled his nostrils, and a chill rolled up his spine as the sweet aroma nearly instigated a sneeze. She slowly set free the tension his closeness brought to her bones, and she whimpered as he pushed the loose crotch of his pants into the center of her cheeks.

“…..it’s….it’s fine. Just a little shake of the handle usually…usually takes care of it.” She choked, and heaved a struggling breath. Her head fell weightless to his shoulder, and she white knuckle gripped the counters edge to squeeze out some of the pent-up need.

One of his broad, promiscuous hands pulled on the ribbon of her robe, while the other probed up the back of her thigh, tickling the curve of her round ass with calloused, worked fingers. Whitleigh’s nipples poked from the confines of her t-shirt and Tommy envisioned the pink bulbs wet between his teeth.

“Let me tend to some other things around here that need seein’ to then, hm?” He suckled on her earlobe, the gold bulbs of her earrings clanging gently against his teeth.

Her shutter sent the bathrobe cascading from her arms to topple gracefully around their feet. Once Tommy’s hands got a feeling of her soft skin against his, his hunger became irrepressible. He tugged at her legs, rushing her to climb his body. Their lips crashed into each other, their desire screaming at the introduction. Tommy reached his hands into her hair, massaging into her scalp, and his tongue took note and moved seductively against hers. Her mewls of his name, and the breath tossed from her mouth into his enticed Tommy to furthermore explore her every crevice.

“Quiet, Tommy. We have to be quiet. Cole…”

He nodded, lowering her back to the white, chipped tabletop. Her toes curled as her licked up her leg, leaving imprints of his crooked bite on the fleshly meat of her inner thighs. He pulled away to push up the hem of her shirt, and her eyes peeled shut with reluctancy.

“Woah, woah. Hey, whatsa matter, Whitleigh. Talk to me, babe.” He froze, careful not to further intrude if he had done so.

“Nothing. It’s.. I’m fine. Really. Keep going.” She answered surely, but the reluctancy still hid in her underlying tremble of her voice.

He chewed his lips, and carefully continued to peel back her remaining attire. He pulled loose the fabric, and she raised herself to assist him in the undressing. Her hands coyly slid to cover a scar drawn into the lower of her belly, and Tommy’s eyes followed whatever shame she felt there was to hide. He kissed tenderly on her fingers, and eased back her hands to lay behind her head.

“This what you’re so worried about?” He curiously sketched over the marking.

“I’m sure most women you get with don’t have ugly battle scars from childbirth, Tommy…”

He blinked repeatedly, exaggerating his look of taken aback confusion, and almost offence. His palms leaned flat on the table, carrying his weight as he dangled above her.

“First off, you ain’t just somebody I wanna ‘get with’, Whit. Second, don’t ever be ashamed. This,” he pointed. “This scar gave you that badass little boy in there sleepin’. The one that you’re doin’ a damn good job of raisin’, too. Don’t ever feel like you gotta hide that wit’ me. Okay?”

Whitleigh blushed, and her fitful heartbeats bringing a swell of reassurance over her body. To hear that Tommy hadn’t intended on her being just the bed buddy next door eased her worries. She saw potential in Tommy, and whatever this could turn into with him, as well.

She nodded her head, smiling and sighing a loud release of the worrisome pressure she’d been choking on moments ago. Once the exquisite man gathered she had relaxed once more, he began petting over the soft, feminine curves of her body’s edges. His licked his pouting mouth, and journeyed upward to the round handful of her breasts, leaving his hands to work down below. He moaned, stroking the wet patch that stained the warm center of her panties and Whitleigh nearly jolted from the table when his tongue devoured the sensitive line of her ribcage.

Tommy hooked his fingers into the band of her shorts, cheekily popping the elastic before tugging them down her tanned legs.

“I like these, by the way. They look much sexier on you than me..”

He dropped his own shorts, the clunk of his phone in the pocket hitting the floor,  revealing a nearly matching pair of his own boxer briefs. Only his, screaming at the seams trying to trap the large member he was stroking beneath them.

Without so much as a hint of warning, Tommy clutched the backside of her bended knees, and drew her forth toward him. Her feet now weightlessly suspended over the tables edge. Glittering rays of sunlight illuminated through the curtains, catching the speckles of green hiding in the eyes she stared hungrily into. The demanding, heated cosmic pull his body exuded excited Whitleigh more than any desire she had ever known for a man. She withheld a giggle, knowing breakfast every morning seated at this now tarnished kitchen table would never be the same.

Anxious for a quick taste of her pink folds, Tommy kneeled face-to-face with his warm breakfast. Fuck that gritty, bland protein shake he had in the blender at his own house, he thought. Whitleigh was more his flavor. Her hips bucked seductively when the vicious laps of his tongue separated her lips to prime her with another layer of wetness. Delight and orgasm poked her nauseous belly like a prodding finger. She grimaced, but welcomed every nibble of his lips over her blossoming bulb.

“Upstairs, Tommy… let’s go upstairs.” The volume of her needful pants echoed off the hollow ceilings, and she feared their elicit noises would stumble upon the ears of her hopefully sleeping son just down the hall. It took all her mighty efforts to piece together a sentence amongst Tommy’s feasting murmurs smashed between her thighs. The hum, and suckling sounds of him devouring her sopping mound hypnotized her wholly. His touch would be burned there at the most private corner of her body forever.

“I can’t make it that far, Whitleigh baby. I gotta have you. Now. Here, bite down on this to keep quiet.” Tommy tossed her the tee he had discarded, and chuckled. Relishing in the fact that he had her body running on amped speed. She nearly lost all control when he caught a stray trickle of her juices escaping from the side of his mouth with the tip of his thumb, and sucked it dry.

He clung to his thick erection, and lead himself to her steaming entrance, teasing her with slow in and outs. He felt her deep, and so satisfyingly warm squeezes twitch around him, already milking forth his first release with a female in months. He hadn’t really had time for a hookup lately, and thinking about the filth that he typically attracted only made want to down capsize a bottle of narcotics.  

The angsty thoughts that had always swam in his mind suddenly fled when he admired Whitleigh’s blissfully reddened cheeks, and rosy, swollen lips gaped open with the sound of his name. She was reeling him in, damning his demons back to the hell they came from, and shocking his soul back to life, and she had no idea.

He gripped her forcefully by the hips to secure a steady rhythm so her breasts would continue that perfectly timed, spellbinding bounce. He didn’t want to split her painfully in two, but the faster he lunged inside her, the more he could feel the rough flickerings of a hard onslaught approaching.

“More. More.” She read his mind with expert timing. “More!”

The legs of her antique table scuffed and creaked against the floor below them, and Whitleigh wondered whether the weathered wood was a match for Tommy Conlon. She knew Cole would be stirring soon, but she needed to feel this way, in this moment with Tommy, for hours before it would ever be enough. He brushed, and touched her lips with his fingers, grazing her cheeks thoughtfully. His face nuzzled the tips of her nipples, and his lashes tickled them to an even higher peak while his two-day old scruff chapped her sensitive skin. Whitleigh wanted to feel the sweat of his hard-work fall from his perspiring brow and leave his scent on her like a dirty secret.

She hinted sparks flying inside her belly, instigating the release ready to reach the surface. Every raw, barely noticeable taste of delicious pain that came with his every lunge kidnapped her further towards the explosion of orgasm. A pulsating vein in Tommy’s neck protruded from his straining, broad neck and she sensed he was holding back his own ending for her sake.

“Tommy, I’m close. Really… really close.” She whispered, nearly biting her own tongue between gnashed teeth.

He closed his eyes, his back now standing straight to give her a hearty, heavenly view of his tattooed pecks, and insultingly large shoulders. His harsh sucks of air, and vice-grip squeezes on the bone of her hips gave her the push she needed to climb the summit. Using the shirt she still held onto, Whitleigh quickly shoved the cotton between her jaws to absorb her curdling screams. Her eyes watered beneath sealed lids, tears dripping from the corners, and Tommy covered his own mouth muffling what was the most beautiful portrayal of climax she had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

“Now, I already won Cole over, we know. So, what’s that verdict you were talking about earlier, huh?” Tommy suggested.

Hoping not to offend him with her abrupt dismissal, and nixing of post-cuddle, she stole a fast kiss from him as she hopped from the table to dress. He rubbed over her bare backside once more before she stepped into her bottoms, then shooed her down the hall, understanding the importance of her motherly duties. He speedily decked himself in his own shed clothes, and placed the kitchen back to it’s original tidy state before the observant young boy came for his breakfast.

Whitleigh came leisurely down the hall moments later, holding the hand of a slightly disorientated blonde boy who smiled ear-to-ear once realizing his new best friend Tommy was seated at his kitchen table. He climbed into the empty chair next to Tommy where his booster seat waited, eager to chat all about the things they had seen while on their morning stroll. Whitleigh stirred the batter of chocolate chip pancakes near the stove, stealing smiley glances at Tommy when Cole was caught up in one of his stories.

 As Tommy watched the wild-eyed kid stutter and sling his busy hands throughout the air, pretending his fork was a spaceship. All the while also falling in love with the big-hearted, slightly bashful, head-spinningly beautiful woman across the room. He had never known true family in his entire life. But silently observing the lazy comfort he felt of that Saturday morning with Cole, and Whitleigh, he decided it was worth the wait.

  TAGS: @eap1935 @torialeysha

[voidendron]

The Outside: Chapter 61

Series Ask Blog: @asktheoutside​

Chapter 61: Fan Favorite Chapter Warnings:  Swearing, Minor Injury (bruising, sprains, dislocated fingers) Characters: Dr. Schneeplestein, Natemare POV: Dr. Schneeplestein

April 10, 2031, 4:00 PM Los Angeles, California

Fingers combing through grayed hair, then a huff. A shake of the head and one hand playing with a spool of thread. Two weeks. It had been over two weeks ago. Marvin was alive. But what if he hadn’t survived? What if…

No. Don’t think that way. He’d survived.

Schneep ran a hand across his face and grit his teeth together. His card. Why had he given it to Mad? He couldn’t…remember, now. The details were there, but just out of his reach. Fuzzy, if he tried to grab for them. Like an apparition in his peripherals as it wisped away when he turned to look.

Setting the thread neatly in the wall-mounted cabinet, just above eye level, his mouth twisted as he closed the door. He tipped his head slightly. Studied his own face in the mirror on that door. He brought a hand up to brush at the healing wound in his cheek. It had started scarring over, but he still winced at the contact. It felt like it was bruised. Was Natemare sure he’s gotten all the chips out of it? Hopefully. Schneep really didn’t feel like dealing with an infection…

He glared at his reflection, and it glared right back; studied his eyes just as he studied its.

He pursed his lips when his gaze fell on his false eye. It was too bright now. Too much like Seán’s. The other was darker than it had been. Not by much, but darker nonetheless. The difference was small but still too noticeable for his liking. If someone was to stop and stare long enough, they’d be able to tell. He was doubtful that Natemare and Devilplier, at the very least, hadn’t noticed the difference. Whether they thought it was heterochromia or realized it was a prosthetic, at least they didn’t stare or question his ability to do his job.

A sharp buzz on the counter next to him made him jump. He’d gone without a cellphone for so long that he’d forgotten it was there. It was used, not the best one out there by any means, but at least the other garage members could easily get in touch with him, now. The messages were from Natemare. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He…honestly wanted to say he considered the Sharp a…friend? Maybe? They were snarky with one another, but it was kind of endearing, in a way. Mare made him feel like he belonged somewhere.

Natemare: Could use you at Garage C. Idiot over here broke his hand

Natemare: …I think?

…You ‘think’? he replied

Natemare: Hey, I’m no doctor!

Schneep groaned at that.

You acted as doctor before I came here! How do you not know?

Natemare: …Cuz I wasn’t a doctor?

You are hopeless.

Natemare: Screw off.

Natemare: I’ll be there in a sec to bring you here.

Pocketing the phone with a roll of the eyes, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. If Natemare was going to be there, he wouldn’t bother throwing together medical supplies. He’d just have the Sharp magic them up.

Schneep straightened just as Natemare appeared in the room. Just as quickly as the Sharp had come, both of them were gone from the little clinic. The doctor stumbled when his feet hit solid ground again. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to teleporting. He didn’t hate it, but it certainly wasn’t his favorite method of travel, either.

The Sharp led him to a bench at the garage’s…was it west? wall. Just by looking at the guy, Schneep was almost positive he was one of the garages’ mechanics: Oil-stained coveralls, calloused hands, and grease smudging his skin. He’d probably been working under one of the vans. The doctor had noticed weeks ago that they liked to leak.

A shake of the head, and Schneep seated himself on the bench next to the man. Human? Ego? Some other Figment? He didn’t know. Oddly enough, he was finding that he cared less and less. The garages were a strange combination, and the humans to work in them knew about the Egos.

Maybe that’s why the look the mechanic was giving him as he grabbed the man’s injured hand was putting him on edge.

“Is there something you want?” he finally asked as he cupped the hand between his to See the damage.

At that, the man startled. “Sorry. Sorry. Just uh… Would I know you? You’re an Ego, right?”

“Yes?”

The mechanic went silent for a bit after Natemare snorted. Schneep had to wonder why the Sharp found this so amusing. At least the hand wasn’t broken. Two dislocated fingers, the hand swollen and sprained, with some pretty nasty bruising, but no fractures.

Turning to face Mare, he asked, “You know what a wrist splint is, yes? I will need one. As for you, what the hell did you do?”

More laughter, from Natemare nonetheless as the doctor gestured for the clean rag near the mechanic. The damn things were scattered everywhere.

“Not my fault…” the man mumbled. “Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumbass over there slammed my hand in a fuckin’ van door.”

When Schneep’s eyes landed on the duo in question, they scrambled out of his sight. No wonder Dev needed a competent doctor. He was surrounded by idiots.

“Bite down on this.” As soon as the rag was in his hands, he was shoving it back at the mechanic.

“Wh—no! Why?”

“What are you doing now?” Natemare had the wrist brace grasped loosely between two fingers as he leaned back on the wall next to the bench.

“You have dislocated fingers. I need to reset them, yes?”

“B-but shouldn’t you use like…anesthetic or something?!”

All Schneep could offer was a slow blink. “…I have never in my life used anesthesia.”

The mechanic’s face paled. “Y—” He brought one finger up in a “one moment” gesture. Schneep couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. “You…are a real doctor. Licensed and shit? …Right?”

“I will have you know I am 100% Real Doctor! I—”

“Wait. Wait. Dr. Schneeplestein? No fuckin’ way!”

“I—yes?” It had…been a while, since he’d heard his last name. His real one. Not his alias.

“Shit…I loved that community, and—and you’re right here! I’m talking to you!” The mechanic was grinning wide. So excited. “You were my favorite!”

Schneep grimaced at that. A…fan. He’d never really considered the fact that he might meet a former fan who would recognize him. How… What was he supposed to think of that? He should be happy. Right in front of him was a fan who had admitted that Schneep was his favorite! Wasn’t that wonderful? Wasn’t it?

He couldn’t bring himself to smile back. His mouth twisted, as if in distaste. Maybe it was distaste.

“I want nothing to do with the fans,” he said at last. It was…colder than he’d intended, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty when the man looked taken aback. “I am your doctor. That is all.”

When he glanced at Natemare from the corner of his eye, the Sharp didn’t seem phased in the slightest. It was common to feel as he did. Right? He was sure that it was. Bitterness toward the fans; Schneep felt it! He knew at least some of the Septics and Ipliers did, too. Did the Sharp? Mad? Devilplier?

A shake of the head. It didn’t matter. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

He couldn’t look the mechanic in the eyes anymore. All he could do was shove the rag back at him and, yet again, demand that he bite down on it. The mechanic made it harder than it needed to be when he kept jerking his hand away. Made it take longer than it should have. Schneep would be lying if he said his nerves weren’t wearing thin. Humans really were weak. Even Kyler would have bit his tongue and bore it as tears pricked his eyes. And he was just a child! Did Figments really have that much higher of a pain tolerance?

Finally, finally, the mechanic was sent on his way with instructions on how to care for the sprain over the next few weeks written clearly on a piece of paper, along with commands to revisit with Schneep.

“…Jeez.” Natemare had a brow arched as he watched the human stalk off. “You’ve seriously never used anesthetic? That’s not very reassuring.”

Schneep just waved him off. “I have no need for it. I have ability to knock my patients out with a little touch of my hand to the head. Why would I bother with anesthesia?”

“Huh. And what if your hands were injured or somethin’?”

“…I—I probably would not be doing a procedure if that was the case anyway? Besides. The abilities are held in the aura, not the physical form.”

Brushing himself off as he stood, the doctor gestured for Mare to lead the way. Schneep’s eyes roved about. This may have been the first time he’d been in Garage C. It was so much smaller than A! Not nearly as many people bustling about, and there wasn’t even a higher platform. It was all one level in C; two small vans (much smaller than Box) and a few motorcycles in varying states of disassembly. Honestly, Schneep doubted there were even a dozen people in there. He had to wonder if it was mostly a scrap garage.

“Ready?” the Sharp asked as he pushed himself away from the wall to stand at Schneep’s side.

One more once-over. Gaze drifting over the pair to injure the mechanic’s hand, then a man and woman throwing pallets into a corner. The woman had coveralls and boots on, while the man wore dress shoes and an almost dressy top if not for the fact it was mostly unbuttoned to reveal the tank top underneath. A cowboy hat pinned his long hair down, and he kept grumbling to himself.

…His hat was familiar. And the shoes, and the sunglasses perched low on his nose so he could peer over them.

That… Was that Edgar?

When Natemare noticed where his gaze had drifted, he just nudged the doctor. “Know him?” Schneep offered a little nod. “Guy’s more trouble than he’s worth, honestly. Jackass.”

“…Why is he here?”

“Dunno. I didn’t hire him.” Another nudge, “C’mon,” and they were back in Schneep’s clinic in moments. The doctor grabbed the edge of the surgical table to keep his balance and could only offer a glare at the Sharp.

“Warn me,” he grumbled.

A wide grin met him at that. “I did say ‘c’mon,’ didn’t I?”

“Yes, yes, fuck you, too.”

“Grow up.” Natemare offered a firm pat on the back before he turned toward the door. “You know. You don’t seem all that phased by Edgar working here?”

“I have never been fond of him,” Schneep admitted. He glared when he noticed a smudge in his glasses, right in the corner of the lens. “I am more than happy if our paths do not cross often.”

“Even if he could get you in contact with those friends of yours?”

“I…” What if..? No. “Edgar did not like the others. I doubt he has contact with any of them. Even if he did…I have a place here, yes?” He searched the Sharp’s eyes hopefully; relaxed when Mare shrugged and nodded. They wanted him there. He had a place there. He…wasn’t sure he could bare to see Marvin or Jackie or their creator face-to-face anyway. Not after Marv… God.

“I am happy here.”

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Always and Forever

After what happened last night I think we all deserve some Colin fluff. So this is exactly what this is, and a correct ending. I fixed it, Colin gets shot but it doesn’t kill him and he survives! It’s a little angsty in the beginning but it’ll be worth it for the ending!!

Summary: it’s yours and Colin anniversary, but while making dinner you get a call that he was shot. You race to hospital but find out that he’s okay and he’s worried if you’ll still want him.

Word Count: 2494

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of blood/violence (the beginning is really angsty but the ending is super fluffy and sweet and it’s what we deserve)

Mare was calling his name, he could faintly hear her along with the roaring sirens and the commotion inside and outside the house. His eyes felt heavy, everything felt heavy, he couldn't even move if he wanted to. He forced his eyes open and saw a blurry figure of a person standing over him, he saw their mouth moving but he couldn't make anything they were saying. He knew that he was sitting in a pool of his own blood, his head was lulled to the side and it was staining his skin. He felt his body be lifted up and the motion made him black out. 

You were at home when they called you. It was your and Colin's one year anniversary, you were busy cooking dinner, your hair tied back in knots and stains decorating your apron. You weren't nearly as good of a cook as Colin but you were trying you best. He had called you earlier saying that they had a new lead and this might be the break they were looking for, he was so excited and it made you excited for him. You had started dinner to surprise him, figuring it would mean more if it came from the heart. 

You had just finished up when you felt your phone buzz. You saw his picture lighting up your screen and answered it with a smile. You put it on speaker and set it down, still having some other things to take care of. “Hey honey! I made your favorite, you're going to love it.” You pulled the bread out of the oven and set it down on the table.” And there is absolutely no zucchini in the pasta. The recipe called for it but I know how much you hate it. So I just substituted it and I think It’s going to taste great! So when are you coming home?” 

“(y/n) It’s Mare.”

“Oh hey Mare, where's Colin?” You took out two wine glasses, moving closer to the phone.

“(y/n) Something happened.” Mare heard the sound of glass breaking the other end of the line when she told you what happened. She could hear your ragged breathing and her heart broke for you. After she finished she waited for your reply but the line was silent. ‘(y/n), are you still there?”

You looked down to see the wine glasses shattered by your feet. “Yeah… I am.” You had your hand over your mouth, your whole body shaking. You covered the phone as you felt yourself slump against the counter. You slid to the floor sobs racking your body. You let yourself cry for  a moment before taking a deep breath. “Can I see him?” You asked in a shaky voice. 

“It’s going to be a while.” You numbly picked up the shards of the glass as Mare explained the situation. She told you it was going to be a while till you were going to be able to see him. You told her you were coming anyway. You tossed off your apron and sprinted to your car, your anniversary dinner was left on the table cold and forgotten. 

Everything hurt, Colin winced as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. He opened his eyes to look around, he knew what had happened but his mind was still reeling from it. He picked up the mirror they had left on his lap, he was told they had shot him in the face and that they weren’t sure what the damage would do to it. He lifted it up to see the side of his face swollen, covered with a thick bandage. The swelling from the surgery made him almost unrecognizable.

He looked over at you and how beautiful you were and sighed, his heart breaking in two. There was no way someone like you would want him now. You were curled into yourself on a hospital chair next to his bed. Your face was tearstained and you had dark bags under your eyes. His heart ached at seeing you like this. He reached out to set the mirror down on the table but he missed and it shattered into the floor.

Your eyes shot open at the noise, he gave you a weak smile, action making him wince. “Hey.” At hearing his raspy voice you started to cry again. You untangled your limps and moved to stand by this bed. “Hey don’t cry darling.” He lifted his hand up to cup your face, brushing away your tears. You held his hand, pressing it impossibly closer to your face. 

“I thought I lost you. Mare called me and told me you had been shot and there was so much blood. And they said you got shot and that you could die and I just-” You were rambling but he softly shushed you. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay. I’m just ugly and disfigured now.” He said with a dry laugh. You furrowed your brows and moved to gently touch the side of his face where he hadn’t been shot. He moved his face before you made contact with his skin.  

“Colin-“

“No don’t try and say I’m not cause I am.” He moved his head to the side avoiding your gaze. “I’m was never good enough for someone like you to begin with and now I’m more sure than ever that you deserve someone better than me.”

“Colin you’re not-”

“Look at me!” He yelled, surging out of his bed. He watched you with hard eyes challenging you to leave him like he knew you would. But you just gazed at him with love filled eyes. He started to cry his whole body shaking. “L-look at m-me.” He hiccupped out. You gently his face with both your hands, not putting weight on he bandaged side.  

“I am.” He wouldn't meet your eyes, he was looking down, his tears staining he blanket on his lap. “Colin look at me.” He resisted, you grabbed his chin and titled it up. “Colin I am looking at you. And you are so beautiful. I don't see this ugly disfigured thing you claim to be. All I see is the man I love. A man who put his life on the line and saved three girls. Easttown's hero detective.” At hearing you say that he broke, sobs racking his whole body. He grabbed onto your shirt tight, afraid as if at any moment you were going to leave him. 

“I’m here. I’m here.” You whispered to him as you held him. 

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

For the next few days you stayed in the hospital as long as they would let you. Since you weren’t really family you couldn't spend the night but you there from the moment they opened till they closed. You would come and help Colin eat his meals and spend time with him throughout the day, watching tv with him and reading him stories while your played with his hair. Each day Colin anxiously waited for you to arrive, fearing that one day you might not show up. That you would decide that you wouldn't want him anymore and just leave. But you never did, you were by his side for it all, holding his hand when they changed his bandages and comforting him anytime he got insecure. You were never going to leave him. 

You came in one day a little later than usual, traffic was really bad that day. When you came in the room the lights were down low and the room was decorated with flowers and candles were lit all around the room. Colin was standing in the center of the room, he wasn't in his usual hospital gown. He was wearing a suit and his hair was all combed and slicked back. He had on new bandages over his face and the swelling had gone down over the week and his dimples were now visible when he smiled at you. You returned his smile as you stepped further into the room. “What is all this?” You asked as you set down your bag. “And why do you have candles on in here, isn’t that a fire hazard.”

“It is indeed a fire hazard but the nurses allowed it. Just be careful not to knock them down, or you might end up actually killing me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. ‘Don't even joke about that.” He laughed and moved closer to you. “And why are you out of bed? You're supposed to be resting.” He lifted his hand up to your face and cupped it, running his thumb lovingly across your cheek. 

“You care so much about me, I don't deserve you. And don't worry I’ll go back to bed in minute but first...” Colin held both your hand as he got on one knee. You felt your heart stop.  

“You are the most amazing person I have ever met. You have shown me time and time again what it means to love someone one. I was so scared I was going to lose you after the accident, that you would decide that it would be too much to stay with me. But you stuck with me and were there for everything, reminding me that love is more than skin deep. Each and everyday I wonder how a guy like me was able to find someone as beautiful and as caring as you. But I am thankful that I did, I couldn't imagine a life without you by my side. A life without movie nights, skin care routines, and corny jokes.” He squeezed your hand tighter, his eyes staring into your own. Filled with nothing but endless love. “You make everything and anything feel special. You make me feel like someone great, and you make me feel as if I can do anything. So I want to know if you will make me feel that way for the rest of our lives.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to revel a beautiful ring. “(y/n) (y/l/n) will you marry me?” 

You lunged forward, tackling him into a hug, he fell back and you two landed in a tangled pile on the floor. The action made his sore body ache but he couldn't care less, any amount of pain was worth it to see you this happy. You pulled back and smashed your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss and deepened it, loving the way your lips felt against his. You rested your foreheads together, enjoying one another's presence. “So I’ll take that as a yes?” Colin joked, kissing your nose lightly. 

You rolled your eyes and took his face in both of your hands. “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes.” You said in between peppering soft kisses all over his face. He laughed, each one making his skin tingle with joy. 

He slipped the ring onto your finger and you stared at it lovingly. You moved to kiss him again but were interrupted by his hospital door being slammed open. You both jumped and turned, the entire station was there, they had been watching him propose from the window outside. “So what did she say?” Mare asked, leaning against the doorframe. 

“I said yes!” You shouted and the whole room erupted in cheering. Everyone piled into the room, smothering you with hugs as they congratulated you and asked to see your ring. You looked at Mare. “Did you guys help him set this all up?”

“Of course, did you think your hero detective would be able to do it all alone.” You laughed and Colin scoffed at her remark. You all chatted with one another talking about wedding plans as everybody gave their own opinions and inputs. 

After a while they left you two alone and you just sat by his bed, brushing his hair back with your hand, his eyes closed at the feeling. He opened them to look at you. 

“Lay with me.” He patted the other side of his hospital bed, you looked at it noticing how incredibly small it was.

You rolled your eyes. “No. I’m going to hurt you and there’s not enough room.”

“Please.” He looked at you with his puppy dog eyes and you immediately caved. You sighed and moved to get up, you carefully wiggled your way into his bed. He sat with his arms open waiting for you to settle in between them. You laid down curling into his side and laying your head gently against his chest. He kissed your forehead, signing at the comfort you being right next to him brought him. You felt him shift and glanced over to see what he was doing. 

He reached over to the side of the bed and pulled out the remote to his tv and a jello cup. “How about an celebratory Jello and show.”

“That sounds lovely detective.” He turned on the tv and Brooklyn nine nine was playing. It was the episode where Jake proposes to Amy and you thought about just how fitting it was that your guy's favorite show was playing just that episode. You took the jello cup from him and opened it, gathering a spoonful and lifting it up to feed it to him. He watched you out of the corner of his eyes the way your face broke out in a smile at watching your favorite tv couple get engaged. He felt himself tear up, the realization that you were going to be together forever finally hitting him. He couldn't be happier, he grabbed your chin and turned you to face him. He lightly pressed his lips to yours the taste of cherry jello still on his lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” He gave you a playful smile and you raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thank you for being the Amy to my Jake.” He joked, going back to his usually corny self. 

You crinkled up your nose and let out a laugh. “That’s so cheesy Zabel.” 

“Oh so you don’t want to be my Amy?” He asked with mock hurt, turning away from you. You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek.

“Of course I do, I can’t wait to be the Amy to your Jake for the rest of our lives.” 

“Mhmm. The rest of our lives.” He gave you a tight hug, lifting your hand up to kiss it, staring into your eyes. He straightened out the ring, holding it up for you to see. “Cause this means you’re never gonna be able to get rid of me darling.” 

“And I wouldn't have it any other way.”

You settled back into his arms, taking turns eating the jello. The sun started to set and you two slowly began to drift to sleep in one another's arms. Comforted by the fact that you were going to be together always and forever.

[choosemarecal]

May I Have This Dance?- Marecal Modern AU

Here is my gift for the Red Queen Secret Santa! I got @bright-eyedwanderer! You requested some Marecal fluff so I made a modern au featuring Marecal. I hope you like this holiday-themed fic! Merry Christmas to everyone, as well! author’s note at the end

“Great, I look awful,” I say as I stare into the mirror. The red dress has an off-the-shoulder style and flares at my waist. The double high-low hem reaches just above my knees.

I sighed. “Gisa, I don’t even want to go. Do I really have to wear this?”

Gisa stood with her arms crossed behind me and rolled her eyes.

“It’s just one dance! Plus, I never get to dress you up like this. You look so pretty too! Here, let me fix your makeup.” She made to grab a makeup brush from my desk but I cut her off.

“Nuh-uh, that’s enough. I’ll wear the dress, just stop with the fixing. Where're my shoes? I’m going to be late.”

Gisa held up a pair of nude heels. “Here.”

I gave Gisa an incredulous look. “How about no.”

“Please! Come on, just for one night!”

“Oh my god, fine.” I grabbed the heels and walked into the hall. Shade was already waiting near the front door for me.

“There she is! Come on, we’re going to be late.” Shade held up a hand to ruffle my hair before a voice cut him off.

“Hey! I spent over an hour on her hair, don’t you dare mess it up now,” Gisa glowered from the end of the hall. Shade raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged.

He shook his head. “Just put your shoes on and let’s go. The dance starts at 7:00 and it’s already 6:50. Farley’s waiting in the car.”

We walked out to Shade’s car and I sat in the back, while he took the driver’s seat. Farley was already in the front passenger’s seat. They spoke in quiet voices the entire way to school. Farley’s been his girlfriend for almost a year now and for that time, I could tell he’s happy.

I stared out the window and caught a glimpse of my reflection. Gisa had straightened then curled my hair perfectly just for this thing. I was only going because I lost a bet to Shade. Now I’m in an uncomfortable dress, on the way to a stupid school dance.

This could only turn out amazing.

We parked and walked up to the front steps of my high school. Everyone was either in a gown or a suit, styled to look their best.

Shade grabbed my arm to get my attention. “Try to enjoy yourself. I know you hate these kinds of things, but I think you’re going to be happy you went.”

“Whatever you say.” I doubt that I will feel anything but regret for coming to this, but Shade was already leading Farley out to the dance floor. I watched them for a moment before heading over to the refreshment table. I grabbed a cup, poured some punch in, and settled in the shadows next to the table.

The cafetorium of the school was decorated with red and white holiday decorations for the dance. There were countless couples on the dance floor, looking at their partner with adoration. At least some people were enjoying themselves.

I took a sip of the punch, then proceeded to spit it back out. Spiked. Of course. I idled by the table for what seemed like forever before giving in. I left my cup on the table and walked towards the door.

It was pointless to come here in the first place. I didn’t even a date. As if I’d even want one.

I was almost to the door before I felt someone touch my shoulder. I whirled around, expecting to find Shade there to tell me that I couldn’t leave so early. But the figure standing in front of me was taller and… the most popular person in school.

“Hi, Mare,” Cal Calore, son of Tiberias Calore, said. He was dressed in a black suit with a red tie. His hair was combed back and styled with gel. Some say he looked like a prince.

“...Hi?” I answered in confusion. This is Cal Calore. The Cal Calore. I wouldn’t call myself a friend of the Cal Calore. And how does he even know my name?

His face was a bit flushed. “I know we don’t really talk to each other, but I saw you leaving.”

I cocked a brow. “Yeah… and?”

Cal smiled. God, he did look like a prince. “And, I wanted to dance with you.”

I furrowed my brows. “You what?”

He looked at the DJ and nodded. The music switched to a slow song, and I stared at him. What was he doing?

He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

I glanced around and found Shade staring straight at me. He had a wild smile on his face and nodded.

I looked at Cal’s hand and back at his face. Why not? There definitely was no getting out of this.

I shrugged and grinned at him. “Sure.”

I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor. He pulled me into his arms and we kept rhythm with the song. He was almost a foot taller than me without the heels. I silently thanked Gisa for making me wear them.

“You look beautiful,” Cal said softly. I blushed and realized that people were starting to stare at us.

“Thanks. But, as you said earlier, we don’t really know each other. Why ask to dance with me of all people?”

Cal’s eyes searched my face as if he’d find the answer in it. “I don’t know. I just saw you leaving and my first thought was to ask you to dance.”

“That’s sweet, though now people are staring.”

He twirled me around, making me lose my footing. I did not know how to dance.

“Let them. But it’s you they’re looking at.”

I snorted. “That’s hilarious. Do you know who you are? And how you look? They’re obviously watching you.”

I spun outwards and almost tripped out of Cal’s arms before he dipped backward to make it look like I wasn’t about to fall.

“Do I know how I look? No, please, enlighten me.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help a smile from forming. “Well, you don’t look bad if that’s what you want to hear.”

Cal’s deep laugh filled me up with an emotion I couldn't quite place. I didn’t hate it either.

The song Cal had gotten the DJ to play ended minutes ago, but we kept dancing. I found myself not being able to look away from him. Cal could tell I wasn’t a skilled dancer and helped me with different movements.

“You’re getting better at this,” Cal commented.

“If you mean I’m not tripping every five steps, then yeah, you’re right,” I replied. He laughed that godforsaken laugh and I couldn’t help but blush. We kept dancing, unable to look away from each other.

We were both breathless when we eventually came to a stop. Cal walked us to the side of the dance floor and offered to get drinks. He was already walking away before I could mention that the punch was spiked.

I watched his form disappear into the crowd so intently that I didn’t even realize that someone was standing right next to me.

“Well, well, well. I see you’re taking my advice and having some fun,” Shade teased. I turned to look up at him. “Cal Calore, huh? Remember me when you’re eating caviar in his family’s yacht.”

“Oh shut up, we only danced,” I said. But it didn’t feel like just a dance. It really felt like it was more than that. I obviously wasn’t going to tell Shade that, though.

“You’re Shade, right?” Cal asked, making me jump. I hadn’t even noticed he had come back.

“Yeah. Nice to meet you, Calore,” Shade replied, no warmth in his voice. Cal raised an eyebrow and turned to give me my drink.

“Thanks.” I took the drink but Shade quickly removed it from my hands.

“We better get going. The dance will be over soon,” Shade said cooly.

Cal took this in swiftly. “Of course,” he faced me, “Want me to take you home?”

“Sure!” I responded quickly. Before Shade could argue, I grabbed Cal’s arm and walked towards the door. “See you at home, Shade!” I called back.

“Make sure she gets back safely, Calore,” I heard Shade yell back. I pushed open the school door and was hit with a gust of cold air. Cal came up from behind me and grinned.

“Your brother’s a joy,” he joked. The wind was messing up his hair, somehow making him look even more handsome. I wondered what it would feel like if I ran my hand through it...

I quickly snapped back to reality. “He is, isn’t he? Anyway, where’s your car?”

“Over here.” Cal led me down the concrete steps and through the parking lot. We stopped in front of an expensive looking vehicle. I squinted to see the brand logo on the front. BMW. Well, what did I expect?

Cal opened the front passenger seat and motioned for me to get in. When we were both inside the car, Cal turned on the heater. We sat there for a moment before I broke the silence.

“Thanks for offering to drive me home,” I said.

“Yeah, no problem. What’s you’re address?” Cal added. I hesitated. This guy was probably the richest person in school. My family didn’t own fancy cars or yachts or caviar. But I needed to get home, so I gave him it.

We pulled out of the school parking lot and fell silent again. I watched the passing buildings, unsure of what to say next. Fortunately, Cal cleared his throat.

“So... I enjoyed dancing with you,” Cal commented.

I chuckled. “Me too. Though I don’t think ‘dancing’ is an accurate term for what I was attempting.”

“I could teach you,” he suggested.

“Good luck with that.”

“No really! I took lessons when I was a kid. It would be a pleasure to teach you. And I would love to see your cute face more,” Cal said slyly. God, this guy knew how to make me blush.

“I’ll think about it. Although it wouldn’t be a shame to see you either,” I answered, earning a smile from him. We chatted a bit more before Cal pulled up to my house.

He got out first and opened the door for me. I stepped out and faced Cal to thank him again. The wind gently brushed against my cheeks. I tilted my head up to look into Cal’s eyes.

“Thanks for taking me home,” I say softly.

“My pleasure,” Cal replied. I shifted in my dress. The street light made his bronze eyes seem like glowing embers. I surprisingly found myself unwilling to leave Cal for the night.

“Uh… can I have your number? For the dance lessons,” I said, surprising even myself.

“Yeah… yeah of course!” Cal answered immediately. We exchanged phone numbers and stood there for a moment until it was clear that we were both stalling.

“I uh, better get back inside. And you should get home too. See you,” I began to walk away but Cal gently grasped my arm and took a step closer to me so that we were almost chest to chest.

My heartbeat was so loud in my ears I wondered if he could hear it too. Cal leaned down and pressed his lips to my cheek. They were warm even despite the night’s chilly air. He pulled back and smiled at me.

“Have a good night, Mare,” Cal said, walking towards his car door and glancing at me once more before getting in his car. I watched him drive down my street and turn out of the neighborhood.

“Goodnight, Cal,” I whispered into the night. I could still feel the warmth of his lips on my cheek, the feeling I got when his lips touched my skin.

I’m glad I went to that stupid school dance. I guess Shade was right.

Author’s Note (aka pls read): Okay, I just want everyone to know that this is my first time posting fan fiction and I know for certain it is not the best. But I truly did try my best and understand if the person I gifted this to does not like this. i wont apologize for it being bad tho because i did try Thank you for reading this far! Please, please tell me if you like this! (and maybe what i could improve on?) I might try more of this in the future... (and for anyone wondering, this is 2003 words!)

[ragewerthers]

Happy Endings

Summary:  It's everything Gladio could've wanted. Love... romance... but will there be a happy ending?

A/n: This was a quickly inspired fic and was an absolutely ridiculous idea I wanted to write out before it got stuck in my head for ages!  It’s written for it’s silliness and I hope it can get a laugh or a smile!

You can also find it on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126737

Word Count: 1709

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

Summer of 1898, Insomnia Manor:

The nickering of the horses within the stables had always been calming to Gladiolus.  Being raised a stable hand for the Royal Family suited him perfectly.  He couldn’t imagine being one of the royal or elite up in their towers of gold and forced to mask their emotions and intentions behind fake smiles and large purses.  Give him a good hard days work anytime over a stuffy gala.

However, while he rebelled at the idea of a life of unearned leisure there was one leisure of which he yearned.

Ignis Scientia.

Advisor to the crowned Prince of Lucis and one of the most gorgeous creatures to walk the streets of this city, Ignis was a treasure beyond mortal worth to the stable hand.

The first time he’d ever laid eyes on the man he’d been standing at the head of the carriage, checking the fastenings of the harness once more as the Prince and his Advisor stepped into the cab.

Amber eyes met verdigris green and it felt like the earth shook beneath his feet.

While Gladio was all tanned, strong muscle that rippled with every movement, Ignis was refined and accurate to an almost sharp precision.  His tall frame leading more to agile movements that made the stable hand ache to see him in actions that were anything but proper.

It all started simply enough.  Tossing the man a confident smile or a cheeky wink here and there only got him quickly rebuffed, the Advisor all but turning his nose up at the man and ignoring him in favour of chasing after his young protege.

This didn’t deter the stable hand.

Little notes found their way into the Advisors hand as Gladio held the coach door open and offered his hand to help the bespectacled man inside. The first few were quickly returned.

Then they were tossed out the cab window as they made their way down the path leading to the street.

Then… they were kept.

Cherished.

And soon little notes began to find their way into Gladio’s hands as well.

Chuckling to himself as he thought over the past few months, Gladio stood next to the manors prized Grey Stallion, Nyx, brushing out his coat as he cooled down from the recent return of a months trip of the royal family and their entourage to the lush lands of Leide.

“If you didn’t keep trying to show off to the pretty mares you wouldn’t get worked up like this and spatter mud all over yourself,” Gladio chided the stallion who only snorted and stomped his hoof just a little too close to Gladio’s foot.

An answering whicker of a laugh made its presence known behind him and he narrowed his eyes as he turned around to see the white gelding that was Nyx’s harness mate, staring at him with haughty disapproval.

“Don’t you egg him on, Ravus.  You’re just as bad at showing off,” Gladio warned, turning back around only to hear his tack box of brushes being overturned, followed by a snort of derision.

“Am I interrupting something?” a clear, posh voice asked from the end of the stables aisleway.

Instantly glancing up, Gladio caught the sight of his beloved, his heart beating faster in his broad chest.

As the notes had passed between them all those months ago, something had sparked and then grown into a flame that refused to be quenched.

With every look shared between them the flames were fanned and a heat grew and grew until they thought they would both combust from it.

Neither had acted upon the desire that swept them both up, but now… in this moment after being away from each other for so long… the need was too strong.

Gladio moved forward quickly, dropping the curry comb he’d been using into a pile of straw near Nyx’s stall.

Ignis walked forward with equal fervor, the fire of desire burning bright in his eyes as he took in the tall and robust figure in front of him.

Gladio’s hair was undone and fell in waves over his shoulders, his shirt open against his sweat soaked chest to help with the heat of the summer, but it also revealed the defined muscle beneath.

Ignis was all legs and angles, but his broad shoulders tapered down into a lithe waist that Gladio ached to get his hands on.  The advisor wore a white shirt beneath a pressed vest and slacks.  Gladio wanted nothing more than to get to the gorgeous and pale skin he knew lay underneath for him to claim with lips, teeth and tongue.

In an instant, Gladio had swept Ignis up in his strong, muscled arms, strong hands sweeping up to cradle the back of his head as he brought his lips to the other mans in a deep and fervent kiss.

A gasp of want and need escaped the proper young Tenebrean and his hands came up to fist in Gladio’s luscious hair, a growl rumbling in the toned chest of the stable hand.

“Gods, how long I’ve wanted this,” Ignis gasped, turning his head to the side as Gladio ravaged his neck with nips and kisses, his tongue tasting over his pulsepoint before nipping at it lightly.

“Gods, how long I’ve wanted you,” Gladio growled against the sensitive skin, eliciting a shiver from the other man and only kindling the fire that had completely overtaken the both of them.

Gladio’s hands reached down to squeeze at the Advisors arse, before hoisting him up with his hands under his thighs.

Ignis was quick to submit, legs wrapping around Gladio’s strong and muscled torso, the movement helping to undo buttons that were hardly being held into place and letting the stable hands muscles be put on full display for Ignis to see.

“I need you, Ignis,” Gladio groaned against his mouth as he carried him towards the feed room, settling him in a bed of straw as he began to undo the vest and buttons of the other shirt. “Oh.. oh yes… b-but, Gladio... wh-what… unnnh… what about the horses?”

Gladio, who had been kissing a path down Ignis’s exposed chest and stomach toward the growing bulge in his pants paused and looked up at him with amber eyes that shined like refined aged whiskey.

“Let them watch.”

“OH!  Ooooh~...”

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

“-adio?”

“Gladio?”

“Gladiolus?”

“Gladiolus have you heard a word of what I just said?”

“Hu-wha?” Gladio asked, snapping his head up from his newest purchase from the bookstore down the street from Ignis’s apartment.  It claimed to be the story of a romance that could span centuries with a heat unlike any other.  How could he say no to that?

Ignis was stood in front of him, arms crossed and looking over the Shield with an amused and exasperated look.

“Um… yeah?” Gladio said, his cheeks darkening slightly as he slowly closed the book and attempted to hide it under a nearby sofa cushion… in full view of the man he was trying to hide it from.

Rolling his eyes Ignis quickly snatched the book from his partner and looked over the cover, a smile threatening to break over his lips.

“Oh, love.  I thought you were done reading this filth.  ‘The Stallion of the Stable’?  Really?” Ignis teased, looking over the cover which showed a man who was far too oiled holding a woman with her bosoms only just being held into her dress, looking as if she was going to faint into a pile of straw.  “I feel dirty even holding this.”

“Hey!  There’s some good writing in these!” Gladio grumbled back as he swiped the book from Ignis’s giving hands.  “It’s a really good story about a man who falls in love with someone who is out of his reach, but their love is so strong they still find a way to be together.  How is that filth?!”  Would Gladio defend his book to the last?  Absolutely.  Would he ever admit that he’d inserted himself and Ignis into the starring roles?

Never.

This time Ignis did smile and he couldn’t suppress a chuckle.

“With the amount of attention you give those books it’s amazing I don’t get jealous.  Should I act as some of those women then to get your attentions?” he teased, eyes sparkling with mischief.  In an instant, Ignis had his wrist pressed to his forehead, walking closer to a kitchen chair nearby and leaning against it.

“Oh my stars!  I am so overwhelmed by your manly manness of manliness!” he swooned, putting on his best southern accent which sounded more like he was drunk then anything else.  “How am I… a dainty thing as I am… supposed to think when I have such a rough and rugged stallion so near-no G-GLADIO!  G-Get your hahaha-hands off mehehe!”

Gladio was a patient man, but even he could only take so much teasing and had rushed the poor Advisor, sweeping him up into his arms and tickling the daylights out of him.  Poor Ignis was only able to snort and laugh wildly as he batted ineffectually at the hands attacking his sides and stomach.

“What was that, Iggy?  You makin’ fun of me?” Gladio teased as he nuzzled his scruff against Ignis’s neck and earned himself a renewed round of ridiculous giggling.

“St-stahahap!  Stop I’m.. Ihihi-I’m sorry!” he squealed before Gladio finally relented and swept the man up into his arms bridal style, surprising the hell out of Ignis who found himself laughing for a whole other reason now.  Ducking down quickly, the Shield easily stole the last of the giggles from Ignis’s lips and soon both were smiling too much to carry on.

“You’re such a nuisance,” Gladio chuckled as Ignis wound his arms around his neck and pressed a few more soft kisses against his jaw, making him hum happily at the attention.

“Yes, but it gives me the results I wanted.  Do I have your attention now?” Ignis purred playfully.

“Definitely,” Gladio murmured in return, pressing a more heated kiss back against Ignis’s lips as he slowly began to make his way down the hall to their bedroom.

Even if he didn’t finish his book tonight… there was still a happy ending in his future.

[wingsofanillyrian]

Kingdoms and Crowns (Marecal)

@spegetty asked “ hey could you use the prompt “There’s no future for me without you.” for marecal PLeASe “ and OFC I SAID YES so please enjoy and send me more Red Queen prompts!

I should also mention that at this point in time I have not finished WS, so I apologize for any plot inconsistency :)

ACOTAR/TOG Masterlists

Cruel Prince Masterlist

Red Queen Masterlist (more to come!)

If I had it my way, I wouldn’t be here right now.

I hate these endless council sessions. They’ve become hunting grounds, each side out for the others blood. Its pointless. Dredging up past grievances does nothing to further anyone’s cause; it only adds fuel to the fire.

The weight of Silver gazes are nearly as oppressive as Silent Stone. They refuse to accept that Red blooded people sit at the same table they do, that our decisions have sway with the king. I sit straighter in my seat, meeting each House’s stare in turn. I refuse to let my unease show.

I watch the clock, its hands ticking merrily away. Two minutes until the battle begins.

“Why am I not surprised that his Majesty and House Samos are late yet again?”

I glance up at Farley, grateful for her arrival. The lack of Reds in the gathering hall had every one of my nerves on end. Farley and I are the only Red-blooded representatives that have a permanent seat at the negotiations table. The Scarlet Guard uniform she wears dares the king’s council to forget who sits among them.

“Probably because this happens every time.”

As soon as I’ve finished speaking, the arched wooden doors at the end of the room swing open, allowing Evangeline Samos to stride in. The sharp smile she cuts the Silver side of the table is more than enough to make them squirm. The armor she’s clothed herself in is as magnificent as it is deadly. Metallic scales flash across her torso as she stalks for me, giving a sly wave.

“Hello Mare,” she drawls, sliding into the empty seat beside me.

“You certainly enjoy making grand entrances, don’t you?” Although our alliance is uneasy, I’m glad it’s her next to me instead of a member of any other House. Evangeline I can tolerate for a little while at least.

A low, innocent laugh as she brushes her silver hair off her shoulder. “You know me so well.”

“Where’s the rest of your House?”

She smiles, letting everyone wait for her answer. Flicking her eyes around the table she says, “Father sends his regrets, but he won’t be able to attend. You’re stuck with little old me.” She shrugs, reclining with feline grace.

“I can’t say that upsets me.”

Attention snaps to the head of the table. Tiberias has managed to sneak in without anyone noticing. I curse myself for letting him catch me off guard.

Anabel Lerolan is a step behind her grandson, surveying those assembled with predatory intent. Tiberias’ black hair is shaggy and unkempt as if he couldn’t be bothered to comb it. The fitted suit he wears, black with red trim around the cuffs, does little to offset the shadows lingering under his eyes. I wonder if he’s been sleeping well.

Not that I care, I remind myself sharply.

The others fall over themselves, standing and offering a greeting to their king. Everyone except Farley and I, that is. We remain seated, a decision that Anabel notes with a glare.

“Now then, let’s get this underway, shall we?” Tiberias gives a tight smile before taking his seat. My eyes dip to where the top button of his shirt is undone, revealing a sliver of the toned chest I know lies beneath. Once, I was free to run my fingertips over his warm skin whenever I pleased. The memory of knobby white scars and hard muscle makes my hands tingle.

Farley elbows my side, giving me a hard look. I tear my eyes away from the king and pull my thoughts back to this room. I brace myself for another endless day filled with talks of taxes and basic human rights for Reds- something that should already be accepted.

My head fills with static as soon as Anabel begins reading through the day’s agenda. Usually I can focus enough to participate, but today I’m lost in the way Tiberias’ mouth curves when he speaks. I don’t tune back into the conversation until Farley slams her hand on the table.

“Our goal isn’t to overthrow the entire Silver monarchy.” I stifle a cough at the boldfaced lie. She cuts a glare at me before continuing, “We want Reds and Silvers to live peacefully as equals. We’ve already seen it work in Piedmont-“

The hall erupts as everyone speaks at once. My gaze flicks to where Cal- no, Tiberias- sits at the head of the long, narrow table. His eyes are locked on me, waiting for my reaction. Instinct demands I look anywhere but at him. I do the opposite, standing my ground until he eventually breaks the stare.

One voice rises above the others, commanding attention. “I think I’ve found a solution that suits all our interests,” the king says, rising from his seat. The noise Evangeline makes informs me that Tiberias is speaking directly at me, whether he realizes it or not.

“I always keep the needs of my people close to my heart.” This time, I don’t hold in my noise of disgust. Farley nods in agreement. Tiberias continues as if he hasn’t heard me. “Which is why I’ve decided that, effective immediately, my betrothal to Evangeline will end immediately.”

“Finally,” Evangeline mutters, grinning wickedly. No one spares her a glance; they all know how much she loathed the decision. Her heart lies elsewhere, anyway. For perhaps the first time, I truly envy the magnetron. With any luck, she may be able to follow her wishes and be with the one she loves.

Anabel’s bronze eyes flash with fury. Clearly, she was not included in his plotting. “And whom, pray tell, do you suggest you wed?”

Dread fills my stomach. I already know what he’ll say, but I pray he has the good sense not to. My pulse hammers as Tiberias looks around the room, the picture of confidence. He meets everyone’s eyes—except mine.

“Mare will be my queen.”

The world falls out from under my feet.

No one says a single word, not even his wicked grandmother. They must think it’s some sick joke. I think it is too.

A long time ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to agree. Back when I was foolish and blind, nothing but a lovesick puppy. I would have followed Cal to the ends of the earth if he’d asked.

But that was then.  This is now.

I hone the sparks of my anger into a single bolt, internally directing it at him. Slowly, I turn to him, eyes blazing. He fidgets nervously with the thin metal bracelet at his wrist. I let the uneasy quiet seep into his bones before murmuring, “You want to repeat that, Calore?”

He clears his throat, squirming like an ant under my magnifying glass. “It would be a much better match politically-“

The dagger leaves my hand faster than anyone can process, slicing along his cheekbone. Tiberias’ startled cry echoes in the silent room, hand jerking to the shallow wound. Electricity crackles on my skin as the royal guard rushes me.

They are instantly stopped by the hand their king holds up. “Wait.”

My eyes track the thin line of silver trailing down his jaw. It drips onto the table, nearly in sync with my pulse. I absently remember a time years ago, when Kilorn fell and cut his chin open on a stone by the river. He’d bled buckets, and I had panicked. Don’t worry, he’d told me. Facial wounds bleed a lot.

“Mare?”

Tiberias’ confused whisper jerks me from the memory. My chair scrapes against the white marble as I push back from the table. “How’s that for politics?”

Anabel’s demands for my head follow me out of the room and into the hall beyond. My abrupt departure seems to have pierced her shock.

How dare he?

A political match. That’s what he called a potential marriage between us, in front of all those people. Though he cast me aside months ago, the pain of this most recent betrayal festers like an infected wound. How he has the audacity to act like I mean absolutely nothing to him, I have no idea.

And to completely blindside me with the announcement. He hadn’t even posed it as a question; he just assumed I’d agree. Assumed I was still young and naïve.

He was dead wrong.

I quicken my pace as footsteps echo behind me. “Mare, wait! Please, let me speak.”

I whirl around, nearly causing him to crash into me. “I have no interest in anything you have to say,” I spit out, lip curling. “You have no right to speak to me anymore, Tiberias.”

“I thought it’s what you would have wanted-“

“So you thought it would be perfectly okay to decide my entire life for me?” My voice rises, along with my emotions. “Who gave you the damned right? In what world did you ever think that I would agree to a betrothal to you without ever discussing it? After all I’ve suffered, everything I’ve endured, why would I want that choice ripped from my hands?”

His face sags. “There was a time you would’ve leapt for joy if I proposed.”

“We said never again, Tiberias. That night was to be the last of it.” My stomach flips as the memory of that stolen night comes flooding back. I do my best to reign in my temper, steadying my voice. “You’re just a spoiled child and I’m the shiny toy you just can’t live without.”

He flinches, my insult cutting deep. “That’s not true,” he whispers, but the pain etched in the lines of his face says otherwise. “I love you.”

My hands tremble as I curl them into fists so tight my knuckles turn white. “Liar. I gave you a choice. Me or the crown. I think you’ve made your decision quite clear. It’s as simple as that.”

“It’s not that simple, can’t you see?” The temperature rises a few degrees as he draws nearer, tears pricking his eyes. I almost believe they’re real. “There’s no future for me without you.”

The part of me that is still foolishly in love with him strains towards those words, lapping them up like honey. The wiser part of me knows that Calore men have an outstanding track record for hurting the ones they claim to love.

I should walk away. But I am desperate for answers, if only so I can finally let this chapter of my life turn to ash. My resolve weakens, tears blurring my vision. I drop my gaze to the floor, praying he won’t notice.

“Then how could you cast what we have aside so easily?”

Tiberias’ toes edge into my line of sight. “Why did you make me choose, Mare?” When he reaches up to brush his thumb over my jaw, I don’t stop him. I cherish the affection even though I know I should push him away. “Why can’t I have both?”

My eyes rise to the silver streak on his cheek. The blood that divides us. The blood of nobles.

“That’s why,” I whisper, smiling sadly. “No one would ever accept a Red queen and a Silver king. The Scarlet Guard fights for equality, but I think we both know that won’t ever happen- not completely. You could call me your queen, but all it would ever be is a title. I’d never be your true equal. And… I can’t keep living a lie. I won’t waste my entire life pretending to be happy when I’m not.”

Cal’s lip trembles, and I know he’s fighting to keep himself from falling apart. I draw a wavering breath and continue, “So you can’t have both. You have to choose- and whatever you decide will be final. I won’t put myself through this again.”

“And what if I can’t decide?”

Any hope I have is lost. I was a fool to think he still cared for me at all. “Then I’ll decide for you.” He grabs my wrist before I can turn away, a question in his eyes. My breath catches in my throat.

His lips meet mine in a feverous, needy kiss. I fist my hands in the black silk of his shirt, desperate for more. I melt against him, the curves of our bodies fitting together perfectly.

The sweep of his tongue over mine tells me he truly does still love me and he’ll never leave. His fingers digging into the flesh of my hips tell me he never wants to be apart again. The saltwater on my cheeks tells him I never want him to let me go. I thread my fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, closer, closer. For a moment, I lose myself in him. I can imagine that it’s just the two of us and that’s all there will ever be. No war, no blood feud, no one to come between us.

Then the brush of metal against my brow mocks me, jarring me back to reality. It reminds me why I cannot give myself to him. We can never exist in tandem, his crown and I. Our chests heave as I break the kiss, lips tingling. I step from his embrace, watching his hands curl around my ghost. His bronze eyes shimmer with hurt.

“Have you decided?”

The brittle silence fills the space with dread. Each second he doesn’t speak drives another nail into what’s left of my heart. His mouth gapes open, then closes again. I should have known this was coming.

“Give me until tomorrow to think.” His fingers brush my arm. “I need to sort out my thoughts-“

“Save it.” I shove him away, letting the sparks gathering in my palms burn against his chest. Furious with both him and myself, I quickly put as much distance between us as I can.

A thin blue line of flame stretches across the hall, halting me in my tracks. My lightning rises in response to the challenge. “Cal.”

“Always one for drama.” I want to kiss that damned smirk in his voice away. “Can you at least wait to storm off until I’ve finished talking?”

“Fine.” I cross my arms but refuse to look at him.

“What I was going to say,” he starts quietly, extinguishing the flame now that he’s confident I won’t flee, “was that I need time to decide how to tell my council that I want to step down.”

I glance back at him. “Step down?”

Tiberias gently grasps my hand, tugging until I face him fully. “It’s always been you, Mare. I was a fool to let you slip away. Now I know that I can’t live without you. Since you left, I can’t sleep, I barely eat. I wake up reaching for you every morning. When I think about the future, you’re always there.”

“And your crown?”

With light, careful fingers, he takes it from his head and admires the intricate handiwork. It is beautiful, not even I can deny that. Thin ropes of shimmering copper and strong iron twist over each other to form a thick woven band. Much more ornate than the raw iron one he wore when he was first crowned. His lips twitch in the faintest of smiles before he flicks his wrist, igniting a white-hot flame. The crown hisses and pops, turning a searing red.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, watching molten beads of metal drip to the floor, where they sizzle against the plush carpet like eggs in a frying pan.

“It’s just a useless hunk of metal.” He shrugs. “I’d rather have you.”

My mind is a whirlwind. I don’t know what to think. I’ve waited forever to hear him say those exact words, played the scenario out a million times in my head. I’d fold into his arms, sobbing because I was finally enough, he chose me, he chose me, he chose me. I’d kiss him again and again, determined to never let him slip away.

It hits me then. I’ve been using Cal’s betrayal as an excuse to cover up what I know is the truth. I cannot continue to pretend that it was solely his choice that keeps us apart. He alone cannot bear the blame.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Hurt and confusion war in Cal’s beautiful face. The face that haunted my dreams for months, just out of reach. My chest feels hollow.

“I can’t do this- us.” I allow myself the small comfort of touching three fingers to the back of his hand. For once, he is cold. “Who will rule if you step down, Cal? Another Silver noble will step up to take your place and we’ll be right back where we started. Or worse, we’ll lose what little progress we’ve made. We can’t be together, no matter how much we want to be.”

He shakes his head, desperately clasping my hand. “No. Please, no. We can figure it out. I don’t have to do it right away, we can dissolve the monarchy and put a real government in place-“

“That could take years. Time we don’t have. My people are suffering- I have to do something tangible to help.” Gently, I remove my hand from his vicelike grip.

“And we aren’t right for each other. We both may burn, but for different reasons. Fire and lighting are made to destroy. They cannot coexist in a peaceful world.” With every word, I shatter a bit more. As much as I want to engulf myself in the warmth of his arms, I know it’s the wrong choice.

I almost lose my nerve when his Majesty, King Tiberias Calore VII, rightful Flame of the North, falls to his knees, tangles his fingers in my pants and begs. “Mare, please. I love you. I’m willing to give up everything I was meant for, turn my life around for you.”

I shake my head, tears splashing to the carpet. I know that there is no coming back from this. Once I walk away, I turn the page on this chapter of my life. I turn my back on the truest love anyone has ever been privileged to receive. If I do this, I leave Cal behind forever.

“Get up, Tiberias. Kings don’t kneel.”

@queenlannisterofthesevenkindoms @allthestarswecansee @drowningarchangel @wolffrising @photofeesh @maddieimhot @sierrakmalian65 @livy1195 @devitameatball @stellalanelovesyou @trashy-not-sassy @sunsummoner @lightword-g @oooohkinky @dressedindustandshadows @tntwme @elide-lochan-salvaterre @dreams-of-feysand @choosemarecal @awesomethreedragons @coolbooklover1234 @nxyatr @charactercreationgirl

[imladris-soldier]

Lashes (pt 13)

Bill Williamson is a racist asshole. Everyone knows it. They just punch him and go on about their day. When a Lakota woman joins the gang, everyone expects things to go on as normal, slurs and all, and for a time, it does. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds that hatred is something learned - which means it can be unlearned, if given time, care, and patience. And she has plenty of those… the first two, anyway.

Bill Williamson x OC

The gang rode hard and fast back to Clemens Point. While they wanted to leave an impression, they couldn't afford another altercation with the Grays. Everyone was too fired up. There likely wasn't a clear head among them.

Star could feel the eyes of Bill and Charles on her as they rode, but the moment she had entered the orchard, she'd hardened herself. This was a part of her they had not seen, but she was not so unfamiliar with it. While it was inevitable that questions would be asked, she would force them to come to her, and even then... could she tell them?

As the gang blew back into camp, the women came running. Abigail wailed about Jack while Ms. Grimshaw demanded to know everything. Her eyes caught on Star as the younger woman hitched her horse, and she practically shrieked, “What the hell happened to her?!”

Star pushed by without a word while Charles murmured, “It's not her blood.”

The Lakota woman pressed through camp to the lake shore. When she reached the water, she knelt in it, cupping some of it into her hands to look at her reflection. Blood spattered her face and hair. It had clotted and looked like a paste. As memories flashed behind her eyes, she submerged her entire head into the lake, shaking it about. As her hair became cleaner, it whipped around her as though it possessed life. When she couldn't hold her breath a moment more, she broke the surface with a gasp.

Now her hair was stuck to her face and head, dripping water down her body – causing the blood on her clothes to run and stain. She sat in the water, breathing heavily and feeling the tendrils of purity attempt to wash clean what she had done.

Before she knew it, her heaving breaths had become sobs. Tears fell down her face, splashing into the lake around her. Nothing living dared come near her... save for one.

Charles sat in the water with her, pulling her into his arms. She leaned against him and let out the pain and the fear that had all been brought rushing back to the surface. Her skin tingled with the memory of it.

“Tell me,” Charles murmured, petting back her hair.

She sniffed, trying to regain control of her voice. This was a story she had told no one. It felt that if she spoke it into existence then it became true, but perhaps that was what was needed. Perhaps it needed to finally be true and not a nightmare that dogged her steps.

“When I was young, children would go missing from our village. It was always assumed that the white men were taking them, though no one knew why. Perhaps to be sold as slaves to people like the Braithwaites or the Grays. They were never seen again.”

Her fingers tangled in Charles' shirt, holding to him for fear of being swept away by the past. “I... I caught them in the act once. I followed them.” Her grip grew tighter. “They did not sell this boy. They... they tortured him. With knives and hot iron. All night I listened to him scream and could not bring myself to move. I was so afraid that they would do the same to me that I hid in the bushes until long after they had killed him and left.”

Charles' grip on her grew tighter – more protective. “They left him to rot on the plains. And so did I. I could not bring myself to carry him back, knowing that I had allowed his death. When I got back to the village, everyone flocked around me, asking if I had been taken or if I had seen the other boy. I... I lied. I told them that I had gotten lost. They thought nothing of it. But the look on his parents' faces has never left my mind. Nor have his screams.”

“How old were you?”

“Seven or eight.”

Charles sighed, holding her head against his chest. “Tȟaŋkší,” he softly whispered in her native tongue. “It was not your fault. You were a child.”

“I can't let it happen again, Charles. Jack is just... he's just a boy.”

“It won't. We know where he is, and we are going to save him. Star, hear me. It will not happen again.”

Though his words rang true and bolstered her confidence, Star broke into tears once more, clinging to him desperately. He simply picked her up and carried her back to his bedroll which he distanced from the camp, placing it near the farthest fire. He sat her down, and told her to dry off – that he would be back.

She sat next to the fire, arms around her knees, as she waited. The heat of the flames went to work sapping the wetness from her hair and clothes, though she had mostly gone numb to all of it. The truth was free from the prison she'd locked it in, but it had fried each of her nerves on its way out.

Charles approached from behind, but his footsteps paused and low voices that she was not meant to hear carried to her. “How is she?” Bill asked, his tone full of worry.

“She's hurting. It is probably best... if she stays with me tonight.”

“...alright. If-if that's what you think is best. Did... did she tell you why...?”

“Yes. And in time, she will tell you too, but for now... give her space.”

“Sure.” There was a pause, then, “I... I really love her.”

“I know. She will need that love soon, but right now she needs rest. And so do you.”

“Ok. Goodnight, Charles.”

“Goodnight, Bill.”

With that, one pair of footsteps walked away, and the other closed the rest of the distance to Star. Charles sat beside her, offering her a bottle of whiskey which she took and drank a long swig from. Anything to help sleep come faster.

“It's going to be alright, Star,” Charles told her, rubbing her back. “You were brave to tell me what happened.”

“I've never told anyone,” she replied at a whisper.

“I know. Are you dry now?” She shrugged. “Try to sleep. I'll stay with you.”

Without any more prodding, Star scooted into the bedroll, laying on her side. Charles laid on his back beside her, his shoulder gently pressed between her shoulders. The contact was soothing. As the alcohol went to work, Star drifted off to sleep.

….

When the sun rose, Charles got up, but he pulled the blanket up around Star. She stirred slightly, recognizing the gesture, before falling back asleep. There was no knowing if Charles had slept at all, but his presence had kept the monsters at bay, so she could be nothing but thankful.

The gang left her alone, and she slept until late in the morning. When she woke for good, she sat up and worked out the kinks in her body. Her clothes were a horrific mess, still a mix of blood and lake water and dirt, so she went to go find new ones.

After she changed, she dragged a comb through her hair, tying it back in a braid. It really needed a proper washing with soap, but that could wait. Who was she trying to impress anyway?

Once she deemed herself presentable, she left her tent to find food. The stew wasn't quite ready, so she took a can of peaches from Pearson's wagon, swiped a fork, then looked around for Bill. He was sitting against the tree again, so she went over and slipped down next to him.

He looked over at her when she arrived, but they sat silently while she opened her breakfast and ate a few pieces. It was fairly obvious that he was nervous about beginning the conversation, likely due to what Charles had told him the night before, so it made all the difference when he finally spoke up. “You ok?”

She sighed, sitting the peaches on the ground between her criss-crossed legs. “No. But I'm going to be.”

He nodded before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. She leaned against him contently, already feeling some peace come back to her bones. In time she would be ready to tell Bill the story she had told Charles, but for now it was good to know he was present regardless.

The spent most of the day together, quietly talking under the tree. Star was a little clingier than usual, but Bill didn't seem to mind. More than once, someone came over to check on her, and she mostly gave a generic I'm fine, however, when Dutch approached, he didn't seem prepared to accept that as an answer.

“How are you, Miss Star?” he asked, crouching down in front of her.

“I'm... alright.”

His brow arched. “Now, we both know that ain't true.”

“What do you want me to say?”

For a moment, he let that sit, then shrugged and nodded. “Fair point.”

“Whatever comes next... you can count on me, Dutch. I wish... I wish there'd been someone like you when I was young. Someone to ride in and destroy anyone who would harm me or my friends.”

A soft smile graced Dutch's features. “Well, miss, I'm here now.” He pat her knee, then stood and left.

Bill watched him go, then turned to Star. “Seems to me like you did pretty good destroyin' your enemies as was.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, “but it would have been nice not to.”

Afternoon faded into early evening, and Star finally went to go check on Rhiannon after the stress of the night before. The mare was happily chomping on some hay, nickering quietly when Star approached.

“Hello, lovely,” Star whispered, running her nails along the horse's coat. “You need a bath as much as I do.”

She spent about twenty minutes with a brush, working Rhiannon's coat to a shine. Just as she decided she was happy with it, a voice caught her attention and the attention of everyone in camp. “Hey, Dutch! We got a problem!”

Lenny was walking into camp with his gun trained on two Pinkerton agents. Star's insides froze, and she hurried around the horses towards the middle of camp where everyone was gathering. Bill met her, pressing protectively close.

“Not a problem,” the Pinkerton in charge replied. “Visitors! A solution.” He cast his gaze around, smirking. “Good day, fine people. Mr. Van Der Linde. Mr. Matthews, I presume.” His eyes landed on John. “And who are you?”

John squared up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Rip Van Winkle.”

“Uh huh. Well, allow me to introduce myself. Agent Milton, Pinkerton Detective Agency. This is Agent Ross,” he said, gesturing to the man at his side. When Arthur stepped up, he went on, “Ah, Mr. Morgan, nice to see you again.”

Dutch, his voice brittle with annoyance cut in, “And to what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?”

“I don't know if you're aware, but this... this is a civilized land now. We didn't kill all them...” His eyes landed on Star. “... savages... only to allow the likes of you to act like human dignity and basic decency was outmoded or not yet invented.”

Bill stepped partially in front of Star, shielding her from the man's hostile gaze, and for a moment, she feared he might punch him. Milton's smirk grew wider.

“This thing,” he announced, returning his attentions to all, “it's done.”

Dutch rose from his place at the table. “This place ain't no such thing as civilized. It's man so in love with greed he has forgotten himself and found only appetites.”

“And as a consequence, that lets you take what you please, kill whom you please, and hang the rest of us? Who made you the messiah to these lost souls you've led so horribly astray?”

“I'm nothin' but a seeker, Mr. Milton.”

“You ain't much of anything more than a killer, Mr. Van Der Linde. But. I came to make a deal. It's time. You come with me, and I give the rest of ya three days to run off, disappear, and go and live like human beings someplace else.”

There was a moment of silence before Dutch, amusement in his voice, asked, “You came for me? Risked life and limb in this den of lowlifes and murderers so that they might live and love? Well. Ain't that fine.”

A couple chuckles bounced around the gang, obviously raising Milton's hackles slightly. “I don't wanna kill all these folks, Dutch. Just. You.”

Dutch nodded, holding up his hands. “In that case, it would be my honor to join you. Excuse me, friends. I have an appointment to keep with...”

He was silenced by the sounds of every available weapon cocking. Star's hand slipped to her pistol, drawing it and pulling back the hammer, though she left it resting against her hip. Beside her, Bill's rifle raised slightly.

A tense moment of silence followed before Ms. Grimshaw declared, “I think your new friends should leave now, Dutch.”

“You're making a big mistake,” Milton spat. “All of you.”

Dutch laughed. “Yeah. Dreadful. We have got something – something to live and die for. How awful for us, Mr. Milton.” He stepped close to the Pinkerton, his voice deepening into threat. “Stop following us. We'll be gone soon.”

Milton eyed him with spite. “I'm afraid I can't do that. And when I return I'll be with fifty men. All of you will die! Run away from this place, you fools! Run!”

Lenny stepped forward to show them out, grabbing Milton's arm. “Come on.”

“Get your damn hands off me, boy.” With that, he sneered at them all, spun on his heel, and marched out.

Once they were out of earshot, Arthur sighed, “What now?”

“We get outta here,” Dutch answered. “Quick. Any ideas?”

“I know a big ol' house hidden in the swamps outside Saint Denis. I'm sure they'll find us eventually, but it should buy us a few days.”

“A few days is all we need.”

“It's a spot out by Shady Belle. Lenny and I got into that... dispute with the previous occupants. Place is well hidden.”

Dutch nodded, then put a hand on John's shoulder. “You and Arthur ride out and make sure no one else has moved in. Lenny, go follow those fools outta here, make sure they leave. We'll get Jack back, and we'll get gone. The rest of you get packin'!”

The group splintered to do as they were told, but Star stayed put, replacing her gun in its holster. Bill stayed with her, eyes on the woods where the Pinkertons had disappeared. “Who you callin' savages?” he muttered angrily.

Though Star had been caught up in introspection, that one sentence caused her to chuckle softly. “Come on, Bill. Let's get the horses ready.”

They went about their work quickly and mostly quietly. Star spent a lot of that time in her own head. Would the Pinkertons have actually let them go if they'd turned in Dutch? She was not quick to trust the government, but it was an interesting question. In any case, it wasn't even an option. Milton called Dutch a messiah, and in some ways he was. Every person in the gang had a dream of freedom, and Dutch had been the one to put words and actions to that dream. A man with that much influence was certainly no ordinary man.

Besides, she had come to care a lot about their leader. Though she did not spend much of her free time with him, she had observed from afar, and his love for his gang was obvious. He had taken her in when she was alone, and he had offered her respect that many other white men would not have. As long as Dutch was loyal to his family, Star would return that loyalty, and she couldn't see that changing any time soon. Even if the Pinkertons came for them.

“Sure are quiet over there,” Bill called from where he was loading tack onto one of the wagons.

“Just thinking,” she answered, hurling a bale of hay.

“Oh, well, guess I better stay outta that. Never been too good at thinkin'.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Shut up, you fool.”

“Oh, now you're gonna tease me? After all that work you did, tryin' to get the others to knock it off, here you come, just...”

She jogged over the ground, gently grabbing his beard to pull him into a kiss. “I said, shut up.”

“Ow,” he replied, swatting her hand away, though even his beard couldn't hide the grin he was fighting.

“I was just thinking that... well... whatever happens, as long as Dutch is with us... I'm with him.”

Bill smiled a bit. “Good.”