#to everyone who reblogs this saying i FORGOT he's playing among us

[accio-victuuri]

year-end sugar rush round up 🍭

it’s time for the last round up of 2023. we have made it through another year filled with clownery and love for the boys! as per my tradition in posting year end candy recaps, i am releasing early 31st cause i am gonna be busy with nye shows. i hope you enjoy looking through all the happiness the final month gave us. have a great new year’s eve everyone!!!

if you wanna look through the past months or year/s then go to this link. 🔗

i’m adding a little exercise to this post tho and ask you, what are your top 5 cpns of the year? please comment or reblog with your answers!

• The tattoo rumor resurfaces ( new clue? )

• Bowing to the crowd as thank you

• 13 fake rumors - from the vault

• potential wedding photoshoot and “superman can’t fly”

• not really cpn but a media account on tiktok posted a video of xz’s appearance in MBS. they used the tags related to xiao zhan for more views, but they included one that has wang yibo’s name on it. 😂 i know that they might have just chosen an already existing tag with xz and wyb name on it and forgot to edit it. but it’s still a funny incident.

• 12/3 ZSWW Fake Rumor ( pre singapore timeline )

• 12/4 fake story contribution ( wolf mates for life )

• Washing candies only make it sweeter

• An example of bjyx being an open secret ( sort of )

photos were going around of a yibo vcr played in a chanel annual meeting in china. we were all happy to see wyb lookin so good and fresh faced, but what we noticed is his top.

the style of top he was wearing (p1) is very similar to that of GG’s (p2) at the airport when he was flying back to Beijing. it’s probably because the weather is getting colder so they wear this instead of their usual esspensive t-shirts?

the point is it’s kind of like the same-style in a close timeframe from each other. so it seems like their tastes in casual clothes are still very close.

• 12/7/23 Candies ( GQ MOTY + XZS Singapore vlog)

• The GQ MOTY hat was a gift from XZ 🤍 // Part two : I have to say that this has become a favorite one among cpns and has become notorious since so/os from both sides are trying so desperately to wash it. those on xz’s side using rocco’s 227 kadian to dispute everything even if it was their fault they were called out while xz was busy working his ass of shooting LOCH. this is just a reminder that the celebrity is not equal to their fans. whatever drama both sides do to each other, has nothing to do with us and does not reflect the boy’s relationship. 🤍

• Coffee from Singapore CPN ☕️

• All the things that happened Monday Morning of 12/11 which includes the magazine covers, pants, xz going online for a moment etc.

• xiao zhan’s snowman ⛄️

• The fact that WYB was wearing the bone necklace tho hidden during his BAZAAR photoshoot. The ones in focus were of course Chanel, but those who pay attention will see it. A proof of how special it is. Imagine WYB being bare faced and only had stuff that he actually needs, and he decided to keep the necklace on.

• Not exactly CPN but more of a similarity i love to see. cause Shandong Satellite TV decided to air BAH right after SBMS! We love to see their works not only be shown in online platforms, but also in satellite TV stations.

• Candy Throwback : Alexander Mcqueen shoes, Nike off white & WYB’s missing mole

• 12/15 double attack of stock photos from XZS and YBO. The black and white theme! Anytime these two decide to give us some update is a happy day!

• Du Hua describes WYB’s looks as that of a rabbit

• Tencent Video All Star Night CPNs 💛

• 12/19 they both went back to Beijing. ZZ was in Shanghai to film and WYB also filmed CCTV stage. The thing is WYB started filming at 2:00 AM and then he was back at the airport to leave at 10:00 AM. They both arrived to BJ so close to each other. CPN is they tried really hard to be back home & be together that day ♥️

• throwback cpn : wyb prepares xz’s room in hengdian (2021)

• their studios posting so close together for winter solstice! tho wyb’s is a preview for his new single, ybo still greeted people.

• Winter solstice CPNs ( WYB’s song preview and GG’s photoset )

• Clowning about a possible secret message from a 9key code

• “Everything is lovely” similarity from xzs caption and yibo’s new single and more clues like a possible connection to an lrlg post & what looks like a rabbit and character for ox.

• black and yellow similarity!

• 12/26 WYB EP cpn post ( teaser lyrics )

• FAE : Free and Easy sweater

• Same style of editing between XZS and YBO who we all know are dating ☺️☺️☺️

• 12/28 candies

• Marie Claire x Xiao Zhan issue 🍭🍬

• Yibo’s new singles : Bystander & Everything is Lovely

• LRLG 12/30 translation and short commentaries

• LRLG responding to cpf comments

• Wang Wang Xianbei 😂😂😂😂

• Similar clothes and Participating in the same single for a nye song

That’s all for now, See you next year!!!! ❤️💛💚

[maplerin99821]

hey if you accept requests can you make a fluffy fanfic about Lucifer and Mammon being close? like that pic that you reblogged?

Hello, Anon! Omg, sorry for the long wait!!! 🥺💖 I was busy with irl stuff but AAAA I have finished the fluffy fic! I'm sorry if it didn't reach your expectations.😓 It was a bit difficult to write 'cause I'm not really used to writing fluff.😂 But I hope you like it!! (Also, I didn't base this fic off to the art that I had reblogged, but it's still a fluff fic!! It's fan art, and I think I need permission to write a fic about it.😅 So here's fluffy fanfic of Lucifer and Mammon being close.) Thanks for being the first person to request me haha. Please enjoy this. _ A Day To Relax. [ 1 & 2 ]

Mammon's back hurts; he did the best he could to organized the library at RAD. Maybe he deserves this, or maybe not. He sighs for the tenth time of the day.

There's nothing he can do about it because this was his light punishment for skipping classes again. Although he hates doing chores for his discipline, he needed to be a good big brother for Asmodeus.

Mammon decided to skip his classes so that he could be there to support his little brother. Everyone was busy at that time, with upcoming exams and projects, not one of the brothers could make time for Asmo. The latter understood. It's not like he could force his brothers to watch the stageplay with his classmates. But when he saw Mammon among the crowd with his D.D.D out, he almost cried while performing on stage.

(He felt a bit guilty when he found out that Mammon, believe it or not, skipped classes to watch him.)

Mammon stretched his back when he felt his phone vibrating. He took it out from his back pocket to receive a message from Asmodeus.

[Hey.

I just wanted to say thanks for supporting me there.

This beautiful brother of yours is going to treat you tomorrow! <3]

His lips cracked a smile. He feels soft and loved. Mammon chuckled as he took his bag, ready to go home. He had finished organizing anyway; he preferred to play on his phone for a while.

He started walking to the hallways; almost all of the demons were back to their places already. Some are doing their part-time jobs, and some are being lazy at home (Preferably Belphegor.)

"Mammon."

In instinct, Mammon quickly turned around. He already knows that deep voice.

"Are ya gonna assign me another chore to do?" Mammon quickly questioned his older brother, who was leaning into the student council's door frame.

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly annoyed already. He pushed back his hair and fixed the wrinkles of his uniform.

"No. Well, if you want to do more. Your choice." With that answer, Mammon crossed his arms, a pout on his face— ready to complain. But Lucifer stopped him.

"Remember that cafe I showed you the other day? Let's go there, my treat." Lucifer stated; he laughed when he saw Mammon froze.

"I don't believe you." His eyes narrowed, looking for a flaw in Lucifer's face and words. "Are ya' truly Lucifer? What if you're a ghost possessing my big bro's body?"

Mammon intentionally loudened his gasp; his eyes were wide, one hand placed on his heart, while the other was grasping on his hair. He paused for a dramatic effect.

Lucifer brought his hand up quickly to pinch his brother's cheek. "You idiot. It's me, of course." He proceeded to ruffles Mammon's hair. "Come on, let's go before I change my mind and give you another chore as punishment. Maybe you could clean up the laboratory next time for a month."

He whispered the last part, but Lucifer knew Mammon could hear him, making the second-born whine.

The two exited the school, taking a detour through the streets.

"I thought yah were gonna give me another punishment." Mammon broke out the silence; Lucifer hummed before replying.

"Why would I? I only gave you a chore for skipping classes, but you being there for Asmodeus? You don't deserve punishment for that."

Mammon stared at the far distance. The cafe they were going to has a nearby sea, and he smiled at his elder brother's words; he enjoyed these simple moments between them. (They're rare. They don't hang out anymore like they used to do in the Celestrial realm. That's why, as much as possible, Mammon cherished these moments.)

Mammon could say that he's close with Lucifer, but not like before— It's weird. Lucifer is his older brother, his family. But as time passed by, Mammon started to get nervous whenever he had done something wrong. He doesn't want to anger and disappoint Lucifer. (But sometimes, he can't help it— he misses his big brother's attention.)

"We're here," Lucifer said. Mammon followed the latter's gaze and immediately formed star-shaped eyes.

"WOAH!! I didn't expect it to be this cool! I only saw the picture but never expected that it would be this big!"

Mammon kept looking around the newly built cafe. The cafe was a bit massive, with a view of the sea beside it. Its structure is similar to a casino. Mammon could already smell the fresh-baked bread and pies inside, making him giggle.

Mammon had loved the view it was showing; he could eat while staring at the horizon. The cafe was located on top of a hill, not too far from the beach. It looks so nostalgic and therapeutic that Mammon took his time admiring the whole place while Lucifer already entered the cafe.

Mammon wished it wasn't too expensive. He knows that Lucifer would be the one to pay, but he doesn't want to burden him with that kind of responsibility. The second-born tried to grasp the wallet on his bag, but then he hesitated. Mammon recalled that the money in there was a payment to his debt.

Ah, yes. Mammon needed to pay it today but decided it would be better to bond with his brother first.

He sighed, still has a firm grip on his bag. He's feeling unwanted emotions today. He wants to cry, laugh, or do something he doesn't usually do. Mammon was overwhelmed with emotions.

He remembered Levi's words that it's okay to be feeling emotions you usually can't explain. Sometimes, it doesn't have to be a reason.

Mammon's snapped out of his thoughts, thinking that Lucifer was likely waiting for him inside. He turned to see the display of different pastries outside, and Mammon immediately recognized Simeon's art.

Mammon recalled Simeon's word. He said that he's going to work part-time somewhere near the sea. And this made Mammon excited. He had already counted the treats and thinking which one would his brothers choose. After planning, he tried to hurry inside but suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Mammon looked over to his shoulder to see an unfamiliar demon. Their body is most likely the same size as Beelzebub but with a strict stare present. Mammon felt like he was burning.

"Heya! May I ask—who are you?" Mammon said; his tone wasn't that confident, and it's evident with his form that Mammon's going to run away in any second now.

He felt the grip on his shoulder got tighter, and the demon dragged Mammon into a less crowded area. He knows he's far powerful than this guy; he's one of the princes of Devildom. He's the Avatar of Greed. But man, he entirely wants to relax today. Mammon tried to stand with honor and kept his breathing in control.

The demon startled him. "Where's the money?"

And then Mammon realized.

"Oh!? You must be the brother's witch! Ah, here— give me a minute," Mammon took out his wallet and gave them the money. He doesn't feel that nervous anymore. Okay— he lied, maybe a little bit. Can't a demon have fears too? "Geez, you scared the hell out of me for a second there. The agreement was me and her meeting later." He muttered the last part.

But a dark aura surrounded him, and Mammon quickly backed away. He can't meet the other demon's eyes, but he can feel the rage from him.

Is the money not enough?? It can't be. I perfectly counted this; I also worked hard for this. What else could be missing???

"With all due respect, please don't go any nearer to him."

A voice. It must be Lucifer's. Mammon couldn't stop overthinking. What if Lucifer scolds him after this? What if Lucifer started to regret spending time with Mammon because of this?

Mammon looked up, tears threatening to fall. He saw his elder brother, standing behind them as classy as ever. His composure is straight, yet the glaring eyes are full of terror. Mammon recognized Lucifer's stance. It's for preparing himself to change into his demon form if the rest of his younger brothers are in serious trouble.

When the demon started to get closer to Mammon, the latter only felt a swift wind before realizing that Lucifer was there, in front of him now. "Didn't you hear what I said? What else do you need from him?"

"The money."

"It's not sufficient? Then alright, here." Lucifer took out his wallet to satisfy the demon in front of them. Mammon's full-out panicking now. His older brother saved him from trouble, and now he's going to be a disappointment in Lucifer's eyes.

"There, you got the money. Tell your sister that my brother had paid the debt." Lucifer dragged Mammon out of the other demon's sight. He looked back with sharp eyes.

"And as great as reasonable, if you're looking for Mammon—" He looked back with sharp eyes. "—strictly appear to see me. Thank you."

Both never turned their eyes back again as they entered the shop. Mammon quickly explained the whole situation. "I'm sorry! I'm sure— precisely sure that I had counted that money. And it's exactly the price the witch had been asking. I don't know what he's up to with—" He kept on babbling as they reached their reserved seats. Lucifer sighed.

"Look, stop chattering; it's annoying. I believe you. Can't I have a day where I relax with my little brother under no stress or orders whatsoever? Seeing you outside in that kind of situation is making my blood boil. How dare he waste such time when you and I could have been eating here already."

Mammon snickered, ah yeh— It's been so long that he forgot how dramatic Lucifer could be at times.

"Forget about it, Mammon. You had settled the debt, and the food that I ordered is already here. But make sure whenever you're going to meet someone concerning payment, always inform me. I'm serious. If the shares had been a burden to handle, you are welcome to visit my office anytime."

Lucifer already had bread in his mouth, but his expression is still irritable from the situation earlier. Mammon can feel his tears coming back again. Why am I so emotional today?

"Ah. Uhm, hey—" He called out to his older brother. "Thanks for backing me up earlier. I appreciated it!"

Lucifer munched the donut he was holding and then drank the newly served tea. His gaze was on the view outside, seemingly avoiding eye contact. "Hm? Of course. I'm your big brother after all, in case you forgot about it."

In moments like this, it was a rare scene between him and Lucifer. They usually argue and sometimes making each other's day stressful. But, just them eldest brothers, talking and sharing random topics— Mammon cherished this.

And behind that frown the eldest always wears, Lucifer could say the same too. He loved calm moments like this.

"But ain't Michael my first big brother?" Mammon teased. Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Silence, you have no elder brother other than me. Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor, you all are my baby brothers." And when Lucifer realized what he said, he quickly replaced the topic. "And eat the dessert I ordered for you."

Mammon's eyes turned into stars immediately when he recognized the smell, "Woah, no way?! How did you know this was my favorite?!!! This desert is expensive! Big bro! You do love me."

Then they chatted, random topics or something concerning about their home that needs fixing. Nevertheless, the atmosphere around them is comforting and warming. After a while, they had finished eating, and the moon was already out. Both agreed to go home.

"We should invite the others here too!" Mammon stated as he breathed the cold wind that passed by them.

"Yes, that would be a pleasant bonding time. Just don't be too chaotic, please. It's hard to handle all six of you."

It was a great day, Mammon thought to himself. It was entertaining and soothing to talk with his big brother without insults nor orders. Lucifer treated him today; it was— nostalgic for Mammon. It's like he doesn't want this kind of treatment to end. But of course, as the little mischief, as he is, he asked one more request.

"Lucifer!" Mammon rolled the letter r, a bit of a whining tone. "It's night, and I'm tired, yah know? Can I request a piggyback ride?" He knows Lucifer will reject it immediately. So it wasn't like he meant it, already hoping for the worst.

But then Lucifer looked at him, a contemplating expression, before getting down on one knee.

"Alright, just this once. Hurry up before I regret my decision."

Mammon's eyes were wide; he smirked before quickly hugging Lucifer from behind. He felt himself getting lifted off, and it reminded him of the old times, back in the Celestial Realm.

Lucifer doesn't mind; he also missed this. But not like he's going to say this out loud.

I should start spending time with my little brothers whenever I'm free. That would be nice.

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 36

84,000 words later....

I can’t thank everyone enough who sent in asks, commented, liked, and reblogged Mystics as it was being created. It meant the world to me and gave me so much inspiration to continue! Special thanks to Myst, of course. Continue to send in asks for the OCs as much as you want. A part 2 is in the works.

Enjoy Mystics’ final chapter. I hope its been as much fun to read as it was for me to write! <3

Xx -Alpaca

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror & @livingforthewhump

CW: captivity, blood mention, drug mention, cheesy dancing at the end.

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

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THREE LITTLE BIRDS

Remember: Matter. How tiny your share of it. Time. How brief and fleeting your allotment of it. Fate. How small a role you play in it.

                              - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations.

         Shining white, pristine walls lined the hall. It didn’t take long for Hekate to catch up. Paimon didn’t know why he expected anything less. Now his arms were held behind his back by a cosmic force, unknown even to him, and the inorganic urge to continue walking by her side pushed him forward. He spoke little, and listened even less to what the old hag was saying.

         “I cannot promise you will be happy here, but at least you will not be alone in your imprisonment,” Hekate said.

         They turned around a corner through the maze of halls and landed upon a wide set of sliding doors. The whole realm was practically space-age. Hekate was clever to disguise the entryway to her realm as his own Labyrinth.

         He should never have jumped through. That was a rookie mistake. The moment Apollo was released, he should have known something was amiss. Lyrem certainly didn’t have the talents to perform such a feat.

         “This is best for you, Pan,” Hekate continued. “I know that with a little more helpful guidance, you can return to your true nature, and your true glory.”

         “Paimon.”

         Hekate paused. “No, no, no, my dear. You are Pan. You always have been Pan. You will always be Pan.”

         The sliding doors opened. Inside this room there was yet another hallway, but instead of previous areas, this one was lined with clear walls. Perfect for seeing through into the cells that would hold a chosen prisoner.

         Many of them were empty. Hekate continued toward the end, until Paimon reached the last of the cells. There was a simple bed and some books on a nightstand that had been left untouched. The room was covered in a white rubber. The bed, made of wood.

         “I am not going in there,” Paimon said, his brows furrowed.

         Hekate agreed with a nod of her head.

         “You are correct. You are going into this one.”

         The cell door across from the one that had taken Paimon’s attention opened with a whirring noise. Unable to stop himself, Paimon stepped through the threshold. The door whirred shut behind him and he was released, finally, from whatever command Hekate had over him.

         “This is an abuse of power!”

         “An abuse of power is what you had for many, many years on Earth my darling dear. And quite frankly, I have had enough of your games,” Hekate observed calmly. “You will have much in common with your cellmate. Let me put it simply, Pan. The sooner you behave, the sooner you will be released.”

         Pan- no! Paimon looked around his new home as new objects formed around him out of nothingness. A simple bed, nightstand, all as white as snow on Christmas day and one thing in the corner that stood out among everything else because of its red mahogany sheen- a Pan flute.

         “If you wish to have anything more, then you will need to earn it,” Hekate stated.

         Darkly, Paimon turned around, meeting his great aunt’s eyes.

         “I will destroy you for this. I will ruin you. I will make sure no one ever knows of you. I will turn you into a forgotten relic! Just as you deserve to be!”

         Hekate raised a brow to show how meaningless Paimon’s threats truly were to her.

         “I would think it something to be admired, if you could do any one of those things, darling dear. Certainly, if even your own father could not do those things, then it would be worth true congratulation.”

         Paimon charged the clear wall and then stole a glance to the cell across from him, where someone had returned from using a restroom. The mysterious person sat on the edge of his bed. Someone vaguely familiar, with light eyes and a trimmed white beard, looking drastically different than he remembered. Paimon blinked.

         “Dad?”

 ---------------------------------

         “Have you ever heard the tale of Sisyphus?”

         “It may shock you to learn I haven’t ever quite finished the Iliad, but yes, I have.” Lyrem replied to Hades’ question. “So, you’ll have repeat a meaningless, trivial task for all eternity in my afterlife as a punishment for imprisoning you as per Pan’s command. How very original. Did you think of that all on your own, or did you need your brother’s help?”

         “My brother Zeus has not been heard from for a millennia. While he had given me some inspiration, I thought it better to put my own ironic flair into your suffering.”

         Persephone interrupted with a short squeak.

         “No, uncle, please don’t be so ruthless. He’s lost so much already!”

         Artemis had switched back into her cat-like form, comforting her brother Apollo in his lap and purring. She had let out a protest of her own in Lyrem’s favour as well.

         Apollo translated. “Arty agrees. We should be kind to him. Truly uncle, I have to imagine that Pan had quite the psychological hold on this man. Perhaps it would be wise to show him a tad bit of mercy?”

         Hades looked to the naïve children and back to the human-mortal-man with growing disinterest. Then a light crossed his face, as though an idea dawned on him. He allowed himself to smile, ever so gently.

         “Well, I can see that you have created quite the positive rapport with my nieces and nephew already. I don’t know why I am so surprised.”

         Lyrem shot a quick wink to Persephone as a thank you.

         “Which is why, I shall grant you eternal life.” Hades continued.

         Lyrem looked back to him, and stammered.

         “What- what did… Did you just say what I think you said?"

         Hades nodded. Everyone looked joyful. Excited even. Lyrem could last forever- very nearly be one of them. Yes, everyone thought this to be a grand idea, except for obviously, Lyrem.

         “When you die, I will refuse to take your soul. Every time without fail. You will forever grow old, then older… then older. And you will never die.”

         “No.”

         “Welcome to a lifetime of arthritis and aching legs and never-ending cataract surgery,” Hades said. “Oh, yes, that is right, Thomas. I know how old you are, and how much older you will get before your cells no longer hold you together. Consider this a gift.”

         “No, please, God Hades. I need to find Ros-”

         “Goodbye ‘Lyrem’. Have yourself a wonderful life.”

         He was gone. All the mortals had left the Underworld, finally. Now, Hades could return to restoring his realm to its proper state.

         Persephone perked up, realizing she was free to create and grow everything back to the way it was in the Underworld.

         “My pond!” She cried, running out the dining room doors towards the Depths of Despair. “I swear, if Pan killed my koi, I am going to be furious!”

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

         “Why the hell are there empty bins in the hall?! Where are all my photos?! What on earth happened to my stereo?!”

         Arch groaned, sitting up from the floor of the living room. Their mother was already back to her old self, standing and shouting and asking questions that no one would care to answer for her.

         “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Arthur answered. He stood to his feet and limped slowly down the hall. “I’m pouring myself a bath.”

         Charlotte rushed past her brother and her child, throwing herself through the house in a frenzy. Arch stood with their back against the wall, arms crossed. It wasn’t anything defiant. They just wanted to be held.

         “Where are all my clothes?!”

         DING DONG

         “Arch, I swear to God, you will tell me what happened while I was away, and where all my f-” ding dong “stuff is!”

         Arch removed their bloody apron from their body, moved a short few steps to the kitchen sink and rinsed their hands that were still stained red.

         DING DING DING DING DING DONG!

         Arch rubbed their temple with their hands and out of instinct, walked to the front door.

         It was Benji. Through the screen door, Arch saw him standing on the sidewalk in front of their house. He had just pressed play on his Bluetooth speaker sitting in the grass. It started playing a bizarre melody.

         “Hey! You answered! I was hoping you would! You have no idea how many texts I’ve sent!”

         Arch stepped out onto the top of the stairs, still puzzled to know what was happening. The summer heat still lingered in the air.

         “Look, I don’t know what I did to deserve the cold-shoulder, but I thought you deserved a visit at least on your birthday, okay? So, sue me.”

         “My birthday?” Arch said. “It’s… It’s August? Thirteenth?”

‘Me, my, oh, what a life So lean on my people, gon' be stepping in time’

         “Yeah, dude! Did you seriously forget?!” Benji exclaimed, bobbing his head from side to side.

‘So, thank you!

For coming to my birthday party!

I am one minute old today

And everything is going great-’

Arch sputtered a reflexive, well-needed laugh. Benji had started dancing like an absolute fool on their front lawn. He pulled out a birthday candle from the recesses of his pocket and held it forward.

“Look, I’ve been wanting you to show me that magic trick again, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Arch placed their hands in their pockets, trying to work past their tears of both exhaustion and entertainment. They shook their head. They really didn’t want to know if they could still perform that trick.

“I… forgot how.”

Benji stared back up, crestfallen. He checked his phone and lowered the volume on his music player.

“Fine, okay. Whatever. You don’t want me around. That’s cool. I get it. I’m a big shot. Not really your type to hang with-”

“What?”

Benji swallowed back his pain, and shrugged.

“It’s cool Arch. School’s over and we gotta go our separate ways. I understand.”

He started backing away. Arch leapt forward, and caught him by the elbow before he turned away completely.

“I want you to stay!” Arch admitted. “It’s totally cool if you want to hang out. Please stay... I… Honestly, I have been so lonely...”

How did the air get so thick?

“And I have missed you… so much.”

Benji’s sad, soulful eyes skeptically narrowed, and then widened with a realization.

“Dude… Have you been struggling? This whole time…? All summer? You gotta come to me with your shit! Don’t bottle it up, bud.” Benji wrapped them in a tight hug and rocked them to and fro. “Oh, I had no idea... You’re my main enby, Arch… I’ll be your Rick Astley forever… The Bernie to your Elton… Okay? Always. No doubt. No doubt.”

Arch took a moment to sob grossly into his shoulder. They pulled away before it got too squishy for their liking. If allowed, they knew Benji would let them cry on him until the end of time.

Arch took a deep breath of relief.

“Sorry, I’ve just been really stressed.”

“Yeah, hey. No kidding.” Benji said. “Look, here’s the plan, Shazia said that if I could reach you today that she’d meet us at the park with some of that fancy hash we like so that we can smoke up cakes.”

Arch scrunched their face.

“Cupcakes. Shazia would meet us in the park with cupcakes. Hey, Charlotte,” Benji cleared his throat, seeing the dark haired woman, who seemed to be hanging by a very fine thread from behind the screen door. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Benji. Arch, just go.”

“Wait. Really?” Arch turned around, wondering how she could be serious.

“You’re eighteen now, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked. 

Arch nodded.

“Then get out.”

There wasn’t anything warm about the way Charlotte said those words. Instead of lingering too long on the nuance, Arch only nodded, watching the door to the house shut its inhabitants in.

Benji bent over to pick up his speaker. He didn’t miss a beat cutting the music.

“What was that all about?” He asked. Like Arch, he looked up at the closed door.

Arch wiped the wetness away from their face with a couple fingers.

“I… I think I was just kicked out.”

Arch cleared their throat. They turned back to Benji as the summer sun beat down on them both. 

Oh Benji. He was the most welcome sight in this world. The only good thing left that Arch had yet to ruin. Shazia would soon await them both in the park. Their life with Paimon, Lyrem, and hell, was now in the past. A future containing Arthur and Charlotte filled with shame and regret awaited them.

That didn’t matter yet. All that mattered was what was right in front of them.

And Arch really, really, really wanted to get high.

“Anyways, you said something about smoking up?”

[bigskydreaming]

That last reblog is very informative and useful in figuring out where to find certain storylines. Purely on a personal recommendation note, for anyone looking for good reads and who tends to like my take on things, my recs from that list (and not saying that others I don’t rec aren’t good, just what immediately popped into my head) would be:

Batman: The Long Halloween (yes. its a good)

Batman: Birth of the Demon (if you want to set canon on fire, as many people are wont to do, a good place to start is aggressively ignoring Morrison’s take on Damian’s birth and origin and instead treating this story as his origin and just building off the idea that Talia lied at the end which is waaaaaaaaay better and just like...go from there)

Batman: The Killing Joke (kill it with the fire. we’ve had enough of the killing joke. it can die. even alan moore hates it and he wrote it and alan moore usually loves everything he writes and hates everyone ELSE for like, liking it the wrong way, so I mean, that should tell you a lot)

Batman: The Cult (holy shit I totally forgot about this story and now am off to go reread it again myself)

I have Issues with how ADITF AND A Lonely Place of Dying play out and most popular takes on them, so like, I’m not like, recommending RECOMMENDING them, but I mean like, they are pivotal.

Batman: Knightfall, Legacy, Cataclysm and all things No Man’s Land related have some good stuff throughout all of them. Like, things I don’t like, sure, but overall, there’s a lot of good material in them. Also, a good way to get a strong sense of actual canon Tim, who is not fanon Tim, and who would probably take one look at fanon Tim and go LOL nerd, and kickflip away on his skateboard to go tell Nightwing about this AU version of himself he just met, as like, he actually likes and respects Nightwing, among other differences.

JLA Tower of Babel (its a yawn from me, lads. the source of pretty much all “Batman can beat all of the JLA because he has the greatest superpower of all: PREP TIME!!!” hot takes and I mean, yeah that’s pretty core to Batman and who he is at this point, but the story itself its just like. Eh. Could you not. Idk. Basically I just mean this is all part of an era of JLA that for the most part I actually tend to LIKE Bruce’s interactions with the rest of the team, but then there was this and it was just like. Eh. Could you not).

Bruce Wayne: Murderer? and Bruce Wayne: Fugitive (Quality reads IMO that emphasize the Detective part of the Batfranchise and contain good moments for the whole currently present Batfam, lots of great Cass and Dick stuff in particular. Idk. I havent read them in awhile but I have fond memories)

Batman: Hush (this gets a bad rep and not entirely deserved IMO. Like, its not the greatest story in the world but I like how it portrays Bruce as having flawed dynamics with a lot of his loved ones but not shying away from his role in that but also without overly vilifying him....he’s an appropriately complex character in this, is what I mean, and I also like that this is another story that emphasizes the often lost-and-forgotten Detective part of his core concept. Also, it utilizes some of my fave villains in ways that bring home how much potential certain combinations/team-ups of villains could have if they were utilized more instead of overlooked in favor of ITS TIME FOR THE JOKER AGAIN WHEEEEEEEE!)

Batman: Under the Red Hood (hahahhahaha no. like could you imagine me reccing this? LOL its not realistic. Nah, stick with the animated movie retelling. At least Bruce doesn’t slit his son’s throat in that one to save the damn clown again)

Batman: R.I.P (I reluctantly rec this not because I like it, cuz I don’t, its Morrison back on his bullshit in a most I AM THE MOST GALAXY BRAINED OF ALL THE GALAXY BRAINED AND ALSO IM A CHAOS MAGICIAN DID U KNOW THAT HUH DID YA DID YA, like, fashion. Its. A lot. The story is A Lot. I don’t say that in a complimentary way. BUT I recommend it anyway out of pure stubbornness and Dick Grayson fanboy spite, as its set like, directly before Bruce is believed dead and gets lost in time, and like, A LOT happens to Dick in that story that SHOULD BE extremely relevant and crucial to examinations of his mental and emotional state at the time of him assuming Bruce’s role in the family and as Batman, but that just like....ISN’T, and that annoys me. Also, the primary villain of this, Dr. Hurt, like.....

his grand endgame involved torturing the fuck out of Dick to hurt Bruce specifically, and pretty much the first thing that happens when Bruce DOES come back from being lost in time is Dr. Hurt pops up out of nowhere and shoots Dick in the head, like FIRST THING, like this is the absolute first thing Bruce has to deal with when coming back, and this is just like....NONEXISTENT in most fics about that era. Because lolol how can we blame Dick for everything that went wrong and make Bruce be mad at him for how Dick wronged Tim and Jason and all of Gotham probably, if we’re going by actual canon and thus dealing with the fact that Bruce is preoccupied with hovering over his just-shot-in-the-head-specifically-to-fuck-with-Bruce son’s bedside and WORRYING about him. LOLOL hashtag Fandom Willfully Erases The Majority of Dick’s Canon Traumas Not Because They Want To Set Canon On Fire - they’re usually fine with sticking to every instance of canon in which Dick does something even in the ZIP CODE of wrong - but rather because if we acknowledge Dick’s traumas then eww, he might come across as....sympathetic? No, we can’t have that. ERGO HE WAS NEVER SHOT IN THE HEAD HAHAHAH WE FIXED IT, WE FIXED CANON).

But I digress.

Battle for the Cowl (another reluctant rec because like, its dumb and its bad, but its one of those things that I’d still rather more people read than didn’t, because like it is pivotal and relevant, and it contains key plot points like oh Idk, Arkham literally blowing up as all the currently locked up inmates escape, which led to Dick having Wayne Enterprises rebuild it himself, and like, the only villains present in it when he was Batman being the villains he and Damian CAUGHT while he was Batman, which did NOT include the Joker, and thus all the hot takes about how Dick locked up Jason two doors down from his murderer like the uncaring bastard that he is, like.....instead of the reality that Dick pulled strings to have Jason put in Arkham instead of Blackgate when the POLICE ARRIVED ON SCENE AND LOCKED UP THE ANONYMOUS RED HOOD BECAUSE HE WAS CLEARLY DEFEATED AND CLEARLY A WANTED CRIMINAL AND THUS LIKE, HIS IMPRISONMENT LITERALLY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH DICK OTHER THAN THE FACT THAT DICK DEFEATED JASON RATHER THAN LETTING HIM KILL HIM AND DAMIAN.....

like, its literal canon that Dick explains himself for having Jason put in Arkham instead of Blackgate because it allowed him to keep Jason OUT of gen pop where he had literal dozens of enemies that he, Jason, WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR PUTTING THEM IN THERE HIMSELF, and it was to keep Jason SAFE, and it WORKED as Jason’s only actual canon complaint at that time was that he was BORED. So in conclusion, AS ALWAYS, you can do what you want, but when you literally manufacture the fake fanon - and completely fail to make any effort to establish that this is NOT actual canon and that you’re not actually riffing off of an actual canon moment - that Dick callously locked his brother up a few doors down from his own murderer (the dude that Dick himself literally once beat to death because he killed Jason).....like, inquiring minds would like to know, why are you trying so hard to make Dick look like THIS MUCH of an asshole, hmm?)

Batman: The Gates of Gotham (a weird, but fun little read IMO, that delves deep into the backstory of Gotham, the Waynes, and also Dick’s ancestors the Crownes, and establishes a lot of the history revolving around all of the above, and like, it actually has Dick as Batman and being competent and respected by the rest of the family in that role, and its also one of the only times Cass and Damian interacted one on one, stuff like that)

Batman and Robin Eternal (eww no, kill it also with the fire, burn it, I hate it, uggggggh why is this series so praised, its so baaaaaaaaaaaad, its like what if literally every character involved in it is an asshole to Dick for no valid reason whatsoever.....huh, weird thought, wonder if the fact that its so praised as being so good and Dick’s so hated for weird reasons by a lot of fandom are connected....almost like.....the fiction influenced how people viewed his character....and thus....critical commentary of how the fiction was bad is....relevant....HMM I MUST PONDER THIS STRANGE AND NOVEL THOUGHT).

[leapyearkisses]

Orbs Are Bad News Part 1/2 - (m/m) Gerrit/Llewellyn

I ran out of Eliseo/Padgett stories, so I’ll post the rest of what I’ve got. Thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged, and/or left nice comments. This community is truly so kind!

Anyway, I love these characters, so much. :)

MESS, sorta NSFW probably, sneezing on person (who likes it) - Elven sorcerer Llewellyn gets his hands stuck to a magic orb while he has a cold and has to be taken care of by his FWB(?) half-elf fighter Gerrit Truestride who gets off on that sort of thing. 

I fricking forgot Gerrit’s last name. This might be it??

---

"Okay, we don't know what we're dealing with here, so let's be careful." Gerrit pushed open the heavy wooden door and lifted his torch to illuminate the room inside. The firelight played over several tables covered in intriguing objects and glinted teasingly off of more than one hint of gold. Gerrit himself spotted a stolid wooden chest in the corner and his heart rate quickened. "Jackpot," breathed Remembrance, the party's resident ne'er-do-well. She rubbed her hands together, sharp nails clicking. Gerrit was sure she was assigning price tags to the lot of it, except for whatever she hid in her bags for herself, of course. "I know a guy in the capitol who'll pay through the nose for that pervy little statue there." "That is a religious object," chastised Cordes with a haughty tsk. "It's used in rituals of worship for the goddess Fortuna." "Oh, I'm sure he'll be worshipping," cackled Remembrance, and she slipped past Gerrit into the vault. "Few hundred gold and he'll be rubbing out a grand ol' prayer." Her pointed tail waved with greedy delight. "Hey! The proper course of action would be to bring it back to a temple!" Cordes went after her, pushing Gerrit aside. The half-elf grumbled but wasn't surprised. "At least TRY not to touch anything cursed," he called. He'd been the one to organize this little band, but although he was the one who reported to their patron, he had precious little influence over what they did. They were happy to point to him when some upstart had a problem with the party, though. Ingrates. He turned to the last member of the group. "What about you, Llewellyn? I thought I saw some books on the far table."

"Lead the way," replied the sorcerer, and his usually mellifluous voice sounded strained. Purple shadowed the hollows under his faintly luminous silver eyes, and he had his nose tucked into his handkerchief again. Gerrit hadn't spent much time around full elves, but he'd always believed they couldn't get sick, at least not like a human or dwarf. Llewellyn had been dragging since Saints' Day, though, and seemed to have come down with a flu. His skin, where visible under his fitted robes, was wan. "Sure," said Gerrit, and he stepped into the room, holding the door out so that Llewellyn could join him. "You, uh, you don't look like you're feeling any better." "Oh," said the sorcerer, "I'm not. I ran out of tonics." He entered the vault and walked over to one of the tables, investigating a strangely shaped glass bowl. "But as we were already down here, I'm not sure what you want me to say. There's no inn at which I might rest my weary bones."  "Cordes could make you an herbal remedy," Gerrit grumped. He went over to the chest he'd seen earlier and smashed the lock off with the pommel of his dagger. He didn't need any fancy lockpicking tools like Remembrance's. And hitting something felt good when his companions were all intent to be annoying, acerbic, or both. "I suppose," Llewellyn replied, sounding uncertain as his voice wavered. Gerrit tried to ignore the way his ears heated at that. That was the tone that overtook the elf when he was preparing to sneeze. It wasn't any of Gerrit's concern. His occasional roll in the hay (literal and figurative) with Llewellyn did not make it easier or more appropriate to acknowledge his odd attractions, especially since they were currently ransacking a dungeon with a priest and a psychopath. He focused his attention on searching the chest, and he was rewarded with a heavy coin purse, a stack of calfskin-bound journals, and a ruby the size of a robin's egg. He whistled. Llewellyn gasped. "Hah- hahttsch-ow!" "'Ow'?" Cordes appeared from behind a bookshelf, one arm wrapped tightly around a thick rug, the other reaching for his pack of salves. "What is it? Cut? Burn?" When Gerrit looked, their sorcerer was rubbing his nose with his left hand. "Bruise," Llewellyn said. He lifted his right hand, in which he held a blue crystal orb that was knotted inside a thin lattice of gold chain. "I got my hand caught." He'd apparently run the thing into his nose when trying to cover his sneeze. Llewellyn's thin face was already dusted pink from the embarrassment. Gerrit couldn't help but laugh. "Very graceful," he chuckled. "I will thank you for keeping it to yourself," Llewellyn replied, and that was elvish dialect for "fuck you." Gerrit laughed again.  Cordes had leaned over to see the orb better in the firelight. He was the only one among them whose vision was hindered by the dim light. "What kind of artifact is this?" he asked. "It doesn't resemble anything I've studied." "I'm not sure." Llewellyn held it up to the torch. The orb lit up like a lamp, but otherwise nothing happened. "Whatever this chain is, though, it's very prone to tangling." He tried to shake it off his wrist and failed. This was a task for both hands, and he set to freeing himself. And kept trying. And trying. Gerrit frowned. "What are you doing? Cordes, would you get that off of him?" "Sure." The priest reached out to help, but Llewellyn suddenly backed away out of reach. "Uh... I'm not trying to steal it, elf." "Oh, I would let you take it," Llewellyn said, scowling. "But I have a feeling we would be in for some trouble if you touch it now." He held up both hands. His palms were wrapped around the crystal and bound with the ball in that thin gold chain. "I am... I'm stuck."

---

"STUCK," hooted Remembrance again. She was crouched at the entrance to the dungeon - a root-cellar-like set of doors they'd found in a small bandit settlement - and hauling out a heavy pack stuffed with loot. In the daylight, she looked menacing and out of place, her horns, dusky maroon skin tone, and black eyes setting her apart from this land's primarily human residents. "And you even said not to touch any curses!" "I recall you said so as well," said Cordes, who looked exactly like a run-of-the-mill human resident except for the star-like scar on his left temple. He reached down and grabbed Gerrit's hand, steadying the half-elf as he climbed out of the hole. Llewellyn was hanging uncomfortably on Gerrit's back, arms looped around the other man's neck. They'd tried to find a more dignified way to get him out of the dungeon, but he couldn't manage the ladder well enough without the use of his hands. "The artifact didn't react to my detection spell," sniffed Llewellyn disdainfully, and Gerrit was quick to set him down before that sniffing could become another sneeze. He didn't want to blush in front of the others. "There must be someone in Veigh who can help you," Gerrit said. "We'll just swing by on our way to the capitol." The city was three days out of their way, but they couldn't have Llewellyn stuck this way for the two week trip back to their patron. With his hands bound, he couldn't cast any spells that required him to gesture, and that was almost all of them. He'd effectively rendered himself completely useless in combat. Veigh had a chapter of the Mages Guild in residence, though, and if no one there could help, they might at least be able to send Llewellyn on ahead via a transportation spell.  "I will hope there is." Llewellyn looked pale and worn, though his fine features still exuded the otherworldly beauty of the high elves. His hair was a silky black, although mostly covered by his hood, and the contrast made his silver eyes look even more curious. He fumbled for a minute at his waist before scowling heavily. "I can't get into any of my bags, of course..." "What do you need?" asked Gerrit. Remembrance had started off through the trees, humming, her bulging pack swaying with her sinuous movements. Gerrit really didn't want to let her get too far ahead, not least because she was scary good at concealing herself in the foliage and might slip the party completely. However, Cordes was with her, and Llewellyn couldn't exactly fend for himself right now. "My handkerchief..." The elf's voice had gone wavery again, and Gerrit watched as his nostrils flared. Fuck. Gerrit hurriedly patted his pockets until he produced his own handkerchief, or what he bothered with when necessary. It was a large square of flannel, rough around the edges. It wasn't embroidered or monogrammed like Llewellyn's, but he figured by now the flannel was a hell of a lot cleaner, and it was soft for an irritated nose. "Here, take mine." Llewellyn held out his hands plus the orb for it, breath hitching, but no matter how Gerrit tried to drape the cloth, it kept slipping off of the artifact. He supposed he could try to tie it around the- Llewellyn made a desperate sound and tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. His breath was coming in soft pants now. And he was raising the orb reflexively.  Gerrit couldn't let him whack himself in the face again, so he did the only other thing he could think of. With one hand he reached out and took Llewellyn by the shoulder. With the other, he lifted the handkerchief and pressed it over the elf's nose. His fingers settled firmly on either side of Llewellyn's nostrils, and none too soon. After another half-hitch, Llewellyn ducked forward again with a quiet but insistent sneeze. "Happtsch! Gerrit was sure he was beet red. “Bless you,” he mumbled. Through the cloth, Llewelyn’s nose felt hot, and any gentle pressure resulted in a bit of a squish. “Let me just…” "Whh- wait-" Llewellyn leaned into the handkerchief. "I'm nh- I'm not done hhH-" His eyes slipped shut and he gasped again. Gerrit swallowed and tried to ignore the tenting of his breeches. "R-roger that." He could feel Llewellyn's nostrils twitching against his fingers. "Hh...Haah- Hapttschuh! Snrk... Aptschiu!" His body rocked, and he took a half-step forward. Gerrit could hear the thick sound of congestion in the elf's nose as he tried to stave off another sneeze. "Blow your nose," he said. "It will help." Llewellyn hesitated, but in the end, he had to comply. There was nowhere for the mucus to go except out. He started to blow with a gurgle. Gerrit moved the hand from his shoulder to start rubbing Llewellyn's back. The handkerchief and his fingers were rapidly growing damp, but he really didn't mind. "There you go."  He held the handkerchief to Llewellyn's nose until the elf moved back on his own. His nose was red and tender looking, and his cheeks were flushed rosy. He didn't seem to want to meet Gerrit's eyes. Gerrit didn't mention it. He didn't really want to look at Llewellyn either right now. It had been a while since the elf had looked so very fuckable.  He put the handkerchief in an easily-accessible outside pocket of his vest.  "Ready to go?"  Llewellyn coughed lightly. "Yes." "Excellent." Gerrit gestured for Llewellyn to precede him, and the two of them headed out through the trees, following the sounds of Cordes negotiating the underbrush and swearing about it. --- Travel proved easy enough once they made it to the road. They were fortunate not to meet anyone else along the way. The party could handle a group of bandits without their sorcerer, but they had their treasure to worry about, and Remembrance always drew stares, and sometimes aggression, even from normal travelers. Gerrit thought her skills more than made up for the extra negative attention they drew. And anyway, Remembrance was crazy but she wasn't evil. She did better out on the road than in town, but that was probably true of all of them. Llewellyn kept up with her pace, but it was clearly a struggle. He was usually fairly quiet, but he didn't speak at all as they walked, focusing on breathing and not devolving into coughing or more sneezing. There were a few times when Gerrit hastily reached into his pocket, at the ready, but Llewellyn fought back the itch with admirable determination. He kept his nose from running by sniffling heavily, which sounded somewhere between awful and revolting. Cordes commented on it multiple times with disgust, but nothing could be done. Llewellyn held his tongue, and Gerrit was reluctant in this case to offer the handkerchief without being asked. They found a place to camp about half an hour outside the small village of Tewks. Remembrance cleared out some brush to make a flat area for the bedrolls and then promptly decided she'd rather sleep in a tree with everything she owned. She found a good, solid oak a few yards from the camp and ensconced herself in the crux of its branches. She had a good view of the road in either direction and volunteered to take the second watch in the middle of the night, which was her favorite time. Gerrit agreed to take the first watch as Cordes started to set up his tent. The priest refused to sleep on the ground and always took an extra fifteen minutes to erect a curious one-person canvas canopy. It wasn't even large enough to sit up inside, but whatever. The priest never asked anyone else to haul it along, so Gerrit wouldn't complain. These arrangements left him and Llewellyn alone together on one side of the fire, and he supposed that was preferable during the orb situation anyway. Llewellyn couldn't handle his own bedroll, help with the fire, or unpack any of their supplies. Gerrit realized he would probably have to help the elf eat, too. And... Well, when he noticed Llewellyn fidgeting uncomfortably, Gerrit took him out into a thicker copse to see to his other needs. They didn't talk about it... Llewellyn could hardly undo his own buttons, though, and it wasn't the first time Gerrit had taken over. By the time the fire was hot enough to cook over, Llewellyn had tucked himself up to sit on a tree stump, exuding an aura of furious self-reproach. Cordes took some jerky into his tiny tent with him - for some reason. Gerrit made up two bowls of pottage and sat himself on the ground at the roots of the stump. He put one bowl on the ground for himself and then held up the other. "Hungry?" "Not particularly," Llewellyn replied, voice blunted with congestion. He coughed. "But you're going to make me eat something, aren't you." "I'd prefer you do it willingly." Gerrit tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl. "Come on. It's hot. You'll feel better." Llewellyn growled in a manner more suited to orcs than elves. "I feel like an invalid." Gerrit sighed. "Well, if it makes you feel better, we can pretend you lost your arms in an owlbear attack very tragically." He could feel Llewellyn's fiery glare on him and smiled a little. "Look, we've all done stupid things while adventuring. I'm sure you remember when I tripped and knocked myself out on that knight's shield during the tournament." "I remember," replied the elf, begrudgingly. "Besides, you're sick on top of the whole orb thing. Maybe your detection spell wasn't sensitive enough. Maybe the thing's not even cursed! Maybe it's supposed to do this, and we just don't know why." "I have a hard time believing that. What possible purpose could this serve?"  Gerrit shrugged. "Don't ask me. Dad says my mother was a druid, but I haven't got a magical bone in my body." He tilted his head. "We could always try smashing it?" Llewellyn's rejection was forceful. "Do you want to explode?!" Gerrit chuckled. "Not really." Llewellyn sighed. Gerrit held out a spoonful of pottage. Feeding both Llewellyn and himself was a bit difficult, but Gerrit did well enough when he could alternate. It would be better if he could use both hands equally like Cordes, but he couldn't, and so he didn't. He just thought about it wistfully as he worked. Llewellyn ended up eating most of his bowl, then went back to sitting quietly and sniffling. Gerrit finished the rest and put the utensils aside to deal with later. And... Even though Llewellyn hadn't asked, he drew out his handkerchief again. "Hey," he began, trying not to sound awkward. "You wanna blow your nose?" No one else was paying attention and Llewellyn didn't need to inhale any more of that crap. The elf gave him a shitty side-eye. "Come on," said Gerrit. "Don't be like this." He patted the ground in front of him encouragingly as if Llewellyn was a recalcitrant cat. "I'm fine," said Llewellyn, and then betrayed himself with a quick breath. "Hah--" "Come on," Gerrit repeated, "before you make a mess." Llewellyn came down off the stump to sit in front of him, legs tucked underneath, and rested the orb on Gerrit's thigh to balance himself. His eyes were pinched with reluctance, but Gerrit could see that the elf's nostrils were already damp. "Hah- hh- hurry," Llewellyn gasped. Again, Gerrit reached out with the handkerchief, enfolding his companion's nose. He could feel Llewellyn's breath fluttering against his hand through the fabric and hear quite clearly how it kept catching on congestion.  "Hah-hngk- Hahgkttscht!" Llewellyn ducked forward with the force of it and Gerrit steadied him with a hand on his hip. "Ngkttsch! Hnggktxch!!" Gerrit bit his lip sharply to keep from saying anything, but his body was singing with arousal. Llewellyn hiccuped a short gasp and Gerrit pulled the handkerchief away to present a clean corner. The current spot had become soaked and silvery. "Bless," he managed after a moment, and he carefully readjusted the cloth. "Are you going to sneeze again?" Llewellyn nodded, eyes teary with the effort of the first bunch. Gerrit wasn't surprised; the elf had been holding back since they left the dungeon. He couldn't imagine it had been comfortable, but Llewellyn had his pride. He never would let Gerrit give him love bites either. Annnd Gerrit was going to have to stop thinking about that. "Haptsch!" Easier said than done. Really. But Llewellyn's comfort came first. "Hahkptsch!" The sorcerer groaned softly. "Hah- hh- Hgnaptscxhx!"  Gerrit did his best to assist Llewellyn through the fit. He kept the handkerchief secure, moving it when necessary to keep it dry enough. He steadied the elf when the sneezes bent his body or when he felt faint from lack of breath. He even massaged Llewellyn's nose for him when he was trying to blow it and the congestion was stubbornly refusing to move. By the time he felt finished enough to lean back, Llewellyn was flushed and light-headed, swaying where he sat. Gerrit was sweating and needed a towel. "........Thanks," murmured Lleyellyn, eventually. "Yeah," said Gerrit. "Sure." He swallowed. "Let's wash up." He helped Llewellyn to his feet and they went a little way to a creek (generously; it was little more than a ditch through the woods). Gerrit gently washed Llewellyn's face, careful of his tender eyes and nose, and sent him back to camp to lay down for the night. He lingered at the water's edge to wash the handkerchief and, well, to take other matters in hand. Llewellyn was completely out when he returned, and Gerrit was grateful. He smoothed the elf's bangs back and then settled beside the fire to take watch. The woods in the dark were full of the sounds of insects and small animals moving in the undergrowth. And Llewellyn snoring and sniffling in his sleep. Safe sounds. Gerrit rested his chin on his hand and looked toward the road. Damn orb. It was going to be a long way to Veigh.

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟖)

previous part

note: hey y’all it has been a hot minuteee! maybe ab 2 weeks i wanna say? but i’m back wittt a lovely new chapter i hope y’all love it 🤧

i thinkkk i know how to fix the tags now, but if there’s any difficulties i might make a separate post to reassure that everything is just peachy. anyway i hope y’all love this chapter and i hope everyone gets tagged properly!!! adding tags in reblogs :)

playlist

warnings: smut, the cursed d word (daddy!)

word count: 9.7k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

      All while Steve was spilling out his heart to you, for some reason you weren't expecting that to be the result of what he was saying. He was talking so much, making you a little nervous, and you weren't paying much attention to what he was really getting down to saying because of your nerves. But you realized it was so painstakingly obvious what he was getting down to, and because of that realization you couldn't help but let out a huff of a girlish, dumbfounded titter. You weren't able to wipe the smile off of your face after that, questioning silently if this was really happening.

     Just like Steve, you knew the potential your friendship had to be something more, but you had never expected anything to actually come of it. You figured you would both stay floating in the awareness, only ever drawing attention to it through flirty remarks and cute selfies. As much as you had been through with Steve, you felt that he had made it clear that he was taking everything very slow and still being careful when it came to you.

     You had felt that he was loosening up with you and becoming more comfortable, but you definitely didn't think that this was even on his mind. He was good at hiding his feelings, this came as a bit of a shock to you, even though the attraction you had for each other made sense and wasn't nonexistent.

     And you definitely weren't thinking of it nearly as much as Steve was, because you weren't expecting anything from him. You were staying grounded and realistic when it came to this outlandish situation. And when it came to your own mindset, you weren't really looking for anything right now. You were just enjoying your life and the feeling of being alone. Not being bothered to look for relationships or being in anything serious felt essential for your growth and understanding of the world.

You were single and yet unavailable, a choice you made for yourself. But when it came to Steve, you were willing to listen. You didn't know how far you would go, but you knew you'd be crazy not to at least listen to him. You were a mixture of shocked, nerve wracked, and anticipatory.

      Now back to earth. Steve was looking at your face, a smile glued to your lips, your eyes widened in surprise and amusement like he'd just popped the question. One side of his lip quirked up into a smile, hope glinting in his sweet blue eyes as he waited for your verbal response. You found it cute, the way he tried to appear as nonchalant as possible, but those ocean eyes gave it all away. And even more was beginning to shock you, the bud of a little crush that had been planted in the pit of your stomach beginning to sprout and grow upwards, because you were realizing you could see him in that way too.

     You were surprised to see that you were finding him cute instead of strong and buff at the moment, that he was pouring his feelings out to you, instead of the other way around. In this moment, he was the vulnerable one. You had been vulnerable for him before, but it wouldn't end up the same way it had.

That was why you finally spoke and said,

     "Steve... I think I like you too."

Steve, although he had been confident in your reaction and confident in himself in this moment, let out a relieved chuckle. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, clearing the skies which were so full, erratic with colors that he didn't understand. But as he told you how he felt, he knew that he was making the right decision.

    All his life had been full of confusion, this feeling of dissonance, the knowledge that he didn't truly fit in, and this trickled into his understanding of relationships. He had a certain capacity when it came to connecting with people on a level that was more than platonic. When it came to you, the platonic connection you had was undeniable, you shared a connection that was non-romantic as well as romantic. Why not explore beyond the platonic?

You laughed gently, covering your mouth with your hand, your brows furrowed up, less because you were confused and more because you were so bemused by the whole situation. It was real, but it seemed so far-fetched to assume that something like this could happen to you. It was so casual, a man expressing his feelings for a woman. But he wasn't just any man, and you weren't just any woman- and these feelings weren't for the light at heart.

    "This is... weird," you blurted out, for lack of a better word. You felt a little ditzy, responding this way, but you hadn't been expecting this, it came so suddenly that you hadn't even processed all your emotions yet. For now, you could only afford to be shocked and excited. You weren't fully thinking it out, but that didn't seem like it would be a problem. Once again, Steve had caught you off guard, but this time in the best of ways. "Did you draft this out? I feel like you practiced this."

Steve practically blushed, and it felt good to know you had that effect on him. He peeked through squinted eyes while he replied, like he was shy to reveal the answer,

    "A little bit."

    "Oh my god," you laughed, shaking your head.

For some reason, the natural light in your apartment seemed so much brighter now, filling you up and awakening your senses. You felt full with it, light and a feeling of certainty, that as strange as things were, this was how it was supposed to be. Sometimes you felt like the universe was laughing at you. Now you felt like the universe was laughing with you.

You couldn't shake the feeling that you weren't expecting this and that you didn't think anything legitimate would come of this. It all circled back to the fact that you were set just being by yourself, with no lover and no one to expect anything of, no one who would expect anything from you either. So to hear Steve saying something like this, while it was exciting, was also something you weren't prepared for. You enjoyed being alone in your post healing space, and you weren't sure how much you'd be able to handle from here on out. You didn't know how ready you were.

But you were staying calm, not letting that bog you down. The confession itself felt monumental. Your excitement and giddiness washed out the slightly halting feeling of omniscience regarding yourself, your relationship habits and where you were in your life.

    "Uhm," you chuckled, breathing a puff of air out from your nose. You subconsciously played with your hair as a way to cope with your nerves. "Honestly, I wasn't expecting this at all, I really don't even know what to say." You face palmed, chuckling at yourself. "I'm sorry, I'm usually less... this."

By this, you meant scrambled up and unable to communicate efficiently. You felt like you should have more words than what you were giving, but Steve had truly caught you off guard. You were trying not to get too giddy, trying to retain some sense of logic like you always did. This was one of those rare blissful moments where you forgot yourself in the presence of another.

    "Think you've said all you needed to say. It would've been a bit awkward if you had said anything else."

Your mind flashed back to the dreaded session with Steve where he'd left so abruptly, and you barked out a laugh.  

     "You're telling me." As you settled more into the realization - not that it was a situation you could get used to very quickly (you had just gotten accustomed to Steve's Avenger status, and now this) - you realized there was something you wanted to know. "So... what prompted you to tell me this?"

You noticed the way Steve started blushing when you asked him the question. You were simply curious, and now that some of your awareness was returning, it was something you felt might help you understand the situation more. You wanted to make sure you were interpreting everything correctly, that you weren't misunderstanding his intentions. You felt secure enough with Steve, but it was in your nature to want to know everything, to grasp around for a true understanding. You wanted to know what you were dealing with, especially because it was something you weren't even expecting.

Steve took in a deep breath in order to absorb everything that he wanted to say.

     "I think I knew for a while that there was this potential for more. I knew there was something there, that I was having those thoughts. But I never really fully gave in to those thoughts. I was just sort of letting them float there, you know. Because I didn't think it was serious, because it wasn't hurting me. But I think I sort of realized that it doesn't necessarily have to hurt in order to be something that should be addressed. I realized that the way I feel for you wasn't just something I should keep to myself, that I needed to tell you. I was thinking about you so much every day, and I... liked it. It didn't scare me."

     Your chest began to feel warm and full as Steve explained himself, and you couldn't help the heat that rushed to your cheeks. To hear him actually confessing his feelings to you, telling you why he had to tell you, was something so unexpected, something that made you feel so full. It had been a while since you'd been romantically involved with anyone, and that was specifically because of the toxic relationships you had been in before. You didn't involve yourself with just any person, not when it came to serious feelings. 

     It was why with Steve you weren't head over heels, among plenty of other reasons that you had already addressed. And while you didn't necessarily give in to the same feelings that Steve gave into, it didn't mean that you were going to push him away. You had been so focused on yourself. But in this moment? You could see yourself with Steve Rogers.

The corner of your lip twitched upward in a jolly smile,

      "Steve, I can't tell you what it means to hear this from you. I mean, it's definitely something I wasn't expecting, and I can say I was thinking about the way I feel for you too. I wasn't giving in either, because I'm just not in that mindset right now, and I thought it would be better to keep my head, and not to expect anything. But I have feelings for you, too. And I'd love to explore what that means with you," you admitted, a small smile on your face as you spoke your truth.

     Steve nodded. All this time he'd been talking to you, it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Not that his feelings were weighing him down in a bad way, but he had to fulfill this urge to tell you, especially after what he'd done. And he felt that what he had done was necessary to confess, no matter how embarrassing it might feel to admit. He didn't want you to be in the dark about the things he had done to himself as a result of you.

Even with all you'd been through, all the explicit things you had shared with each other, he felt embarrassed to say this aloud. He felt like any way he tried to construe it would sound weird, so in his head he was telling himself to just say it outright, but his mouth was far quicker than his brain. He stuttered as he tried and failed to explain himself,

     "Well, there- there was something specific that happened. It- well, it was a weirddd, it was a moment of... I-I can't really pinpoint-"

You raised your brows playfully, very amused by his stuttering speech, and you nodded as if he were making sense.

      "Yes, I understand," you teased him, and he laughed, shaking his head.

      "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "It's just, this feels so odd of me to say. But you sent a picture of yourself on Snapchat, I don't even think you were thinking of it, honestly. But it made me think. I um..."

You smirked as you realized the point that he was getting to. He didn't even have to say it explicitly. With all your experience as a cam girl, you knew what he was implying. Your voice became saccharine sweet, and your head assumed a teasing tilt as you cooed at him,

     "Stevie, did you get off to my picture?"

     Judging by the way he went red yet again and nodded with an embarrassed smile on his face, you were right. You couldn't help but laugh, not to spite him, but because it was almost surprising to you. You saw Steve as pretty disciplined, and he had made a point of establishing that he wanted to communicate with you as simply friends. That was why he didn't add you on your more explicit private snapchat nor did he watch your cam shows for the past few weeks. You found it surprisingly cute that a simple selfie could send him over the edge - then again, it made sense that this would be something that he'd want to tell you, and that it would relate to admitting his feelings for you.

     Your sugary sweet, teasing voice brought him back to his days of watching you on your cam shows, how you would coo at him and help him get off. The reminder only made him more bashful. You couldn't help but go on, smiling in satisfaction. You couldn't lie - it made you feel a bit cocky that you could get him to that point. Sure, men did a lot of things because of you, but those were men online who you didn't care for as much as you cared for Stevie. You figured he was embarrassed because he thought it was creepy, but you honestly didn't mind. Men had done worse. And besides, it was Steve after all. You had a history.

     "Steve! That's so romantic!" you chirped, watching as he seemed to sink shyly into his seat. It was like you were there with him, the way you could feel his awkward energy through your screen. "Which one was it?"

     "The one you sent on the way to the beach," Steve murmured, peeking out from the hand he had over his eyes.

You hummed,

     "Hmm, I don't remember that. Honestly, though, Steve, I think that's really cute. And really hot. Don't be embarrassed."

Steve chuckled, shrugging,

     "I dunno, I wasn't expecting it. It was what made me feel like I should tell you, because I wasn't just thinking about your picture. I was thinking about you. You know? It was more like... it wasn't just sexual. And I realized afterwards that it brought me to that point because I was so frustrated because I wasn't letting myself give in to the feelings I had for you. And... it was a really nice picture."

You giggled, but past your amusement, you were glad he was telling you these things, no matter how much it might have embarrassed him.

     "Steve..." was all you could say, a smile lingering on your face. "You're real sweet."

He scratched the nape of his neck and looked down. For everything you'd been through, you still made him nervous, in the best way possible. And now that the mutual feelings were out there, he could relish each moment just the way it was meant to be.

     "I'm glad you feel the same way. It's weird, I was trying to figure out if I was just too excited because this is so new to me. But now I know it's not."

     "Same," you nodded. "I mean, I haven't really been attached to one person in a really long time. I was off that. But if there's going to be one person, I want it to be you."

Steve swallowed hard. There was no doubt these feelings were real. And hearing this from you just confirmed that.

     "Me too. Just you."

You smiled for a moment, but you couldn't help your true demeanor, the part of you that needed logic and assortment. This was lovely, but you felt like there just had to be more. Although you thought, how much more could there be? You were miles away, in such different situations in your lives. You didn't want to just go on the same way you had been, not after he told you this. There had to be something more after this, even if neither of you knew what it would be. So you asked,

     "So... what next?"

Steve couldn't say he didn't expect this question from you. He knew you'd want to know where you'd go from this point. And he didn't want to leave you blindsided the way he had when he revealed himself. He wanted to have a plan. He was the grown person in the relationship, he was supposed to have an idea of what was next. But he hadn't fully thought that out yet.

    There was only one thing he thought of that could be solid, but he wasn't sure how that would work. And he wasn't sure if he felt secure enough in himself to let it happen. He had mixed feelings about it. So he didn't bring it up just yet. Despite how stupid he felt shrugging, he did so anyway, and replied,

     "Honestly, I'm not sure. There's not much that we can do, is there?"

You squinted, doubtful of his response. Just like him, you had been thinking of the options, and only one thing seemed solid to you. One thing to do after you realized you both had feelings for each other, to sort of seal the deal, to close the gap. And by the curious look on your face, Steve had no doubts that you were thinking the same thing as him.

     "Isn't there?" you inquired with a suggestive cock of your head.

For all his mixed feelings, Steve felt an overwhelming wave of positivity rush over him when he saw that you were on the same page. You were sharp, there was no doubt about that. He didn't have to question if you were suggesting the same thing he was thinking about. It was bemusing to him, the way that you were quick to clock.

     "You wanna meet me," Steve stated, as if it were a simple fact - and honestly, it was.

     You both had clicked without having to communicate. And neither of you thought it was far fetched. It made sense. It felt pointless to have this confession without there being some way to seal these feelings in in person. That had to be what was up next. You already talked online, texted each other. Doing anything else in order to define these feelings would feel trivial.

     And Steve couldn't deny that lately he had been feeling like he wanted to meet you in person. Before, it was hardly even a thought. But once he realized how he felt for you, it was something that he was fantasizing about just a bit. But it was merely a fantasy of his, not something he was gearing up to actualize.

You nodded slowly, though your heart was pounding at the mere thought of actually breaking the distance. Knowing him, talking to him was so surreal to begin with. You didn't ever expect things to get to this point, or to be talking about meeting him. Not in this circumstance, not at all.

     "If that's something that you are... okay with. I'm not rushing anything."

And it was true, you weren't just making excuses. You weren't rushing anything. You just figured it was the only logical thing to do. After all, you had your own life. It wasn't life or death if you met him, but it just made sense. You'd have to sort things out, as you were sure he'd have to. You weren't aiming too high. You figured this was something that the two of you could possibly achieve in the future, just as a "next step." 

      You also wanted to make sure Steve was serious about this, that you wouldn't just be left hanging by a thread, not after you had had this talk together. Not after you were preparing to commit yourself to someone, something that wasn't even in your mind beforehand.

      And even though Steve had mixed feelings for all the right reasons, he wanted to respect what you wanted. He knew you, and he knew you weren't just dying to meet him, that it wasn't something that would just drive you crazy. You were level headed enough, you had enough going for yourself. Still, if you were on the same page, he wanted to actualize your wishes. And he agreed that it was the logical thing to do - there was just so much that would go into making this actually work. Both you and Steve knew you couldn't just jump into it, but that it had to at least be a possibility.

     So he didn't let this scare him, didn't let these mixed feelings send him overboard like he might have before. He was long past that. He just took everything in calmly, because it was what he owed you. Direction, logic, and peace. Hell, it was what he owed himself.

    He nodded,

    "You're not rushing anything. I understand, it makes sense."

     You nodded, glad you and Steve were on the same page. You didn't intend on letting your guard down completely- just because you were comfortable with Steve didn't mean that you were just going to act head over heels for him and lose all sense of reality. You were still YN, a sensible, strong woman who had boundaries and standards for those who pursued you romantically. Steve was special, but he wasn't an exception. You needed a plan. Needed security.

     And Steve definitely expected that from you, it was why he knew that he needed to have a plan. He sometimes felt like you were too good for him- that he didn't have a clue when it came to these things sometimes, and that he'd do something foolish and lose you. He knew he had to get a clue, and quick. All he cared about was treating you right, especially considering the age difference - you were a grown woman, but he was even older. He had a certain responsibility. It didn't mean he had to be the leader in the relationship, whatever it came to be, because you showed enough leader qualities yourself. But it meant that he couldn't leave things open ended all the time, that he had to show you he was serious.

     When it came to meeting you in person, there were so many things giving Steve mixed feelings. It would be no greater delight than to see you in person. He already enjoyed you so much over the screen. He had no worries that the connection you had over the internet wouldn't translate in real life, as long as he didn't overthink it. It was more a question of time, of his own leadership role in his team.

    Would it get in the way of his job if he was with a woman he had never seen in real life? Would that interfere with his team dynamic in some way? And how could he do so in a way that would keep you safe, from media, from threats, from anything that would get in the way of you and him. There were just so many things that could go wrong, and all for one delicious prize: seeing you face to face without a screen cutting through.

      So, like you, he wasn't jumping into it. But it was on your mind, so he knew he would have to consider it seriously. If this was what the next step would be, he couldn't fuck around too long. He had no intention of stringing you along, of putting this idea out there and then leaving you unsatisfied when he couldn't commit to that next step. So in his mind, there was a distant knowledge that he would have to commit, that this would have to happen at some point. But he didn't want to think about it too much just yet. He wanted to enjoy this moment.

     Your voice interrupted his thoughts,

     "Right. It makes sense. I mean, considering your... life, for lack of a better word, and my life as well, I don't suppose it's something that can just be done. But I'd like to meet you, Steve. Now that I know this, I think it's the only way to be sure that this can be true. To be sure that this is something feasible. And, past all the deep stuff... it sure would be nice to meet Captain America."

      Your smile was so genuine and warm, it almost brought tears to Steve's eyes. He knew he had made no mistake, looking at you. Your glow was so radiant it seemed to touch Steve through the screen, like a friendly sprite fluttering around him, with some iridescent aura. He liked you so much, it made his head swim in a way he just hadn't felt before.

     "Yeah. And I'm sure you've got people lining up to meet the famous Moonrose," Steve smirked playfully, and you laughed, shaking your head.

      "He has a sense of humor. How cute."

Steve wanted to stay on the phone with you for so much longer, talk to you and lose himself in your words and his own thoughts, but he had responsibilities to tend to. He sighed, his hand pressing up against his cheek,

     "Would you kill me if I said I had to go?"

     "Consider yourself a dead man, Steve Rogers," you pouted playfully, and the corner of his lip twitched up in amusement.

     "I wish I could stay longer, I really do. But I'm glad we had this talk, I think we're both on the same page, here."

      You felt calm, secure in this moment. You bit down on your lip and nodded,

     "Yeah, me too. See you, Steve."

     "See you."

✺ ✺ ✺

    Ever since that day, Steve had been in an extraordinarily good mood. Even while he had specifics to think about, as in how exactly he'd make meeting you work, he wasn't bogged down by those thoughts. He knew it would take some time, some mindfulness. He couldn't just bring you here carelessly.

    So, it was a sort of strange buzz that he was in - he was simultaneously giddy and serious, plotting and planning things out, and leaving space in his mind for you. And when he thought of you, just you, any stress threatening to build up just dissipated.

     "You're in a good mood," Bucky commented in passing, taking notice of the small smile that seemed to be constantly engraved on Steve's face these days.

Once again, everyone took notice of Steve's mood - he'd been happy recently, but now it was almost odd. They were beginning to think there was something they were missing. Tony had been the first to really pry and ask if Steve was thinking about a girl. He'd assumed that Steve wanted to talk to someone special when he asked him about the private numbers, and that was entirely true. But Steve didn't let on, not quite yet.

     “Am I?" Steve quipped back, a strange response to Bucky's comment.

    Bucky raised his eyebrow, squinting inquisitively at Steve.

    "Seriously, what's been going on? You hopped up on a little extra serum?"

Steve shook his head slowly with a laugh,

   "Can't a guy just be happy that it's springtime? It's finally nice out. Harsh winter."

    "I've never known you to be a giddy person," Bucky pressed, and Steve just shrugged.

    "Seasons change, people change too," Steve started to walk much faster than Bucky. "Gotta go, Buck. Got some paperwork to take care of."

     Steve practically left Bucky in the dust. He stood there, trying to put the pieces together. He was beginning to think he had an idea of what was going on, but, no. He'd be crazy to think that. It wasn't something Steve would get himself into. But if he was right, then damn it, he wanted to know. Like everyone else, he wouldn't pry too much. But he was beginning to think that they should all be a bit more invested in what was going on. Was he happy his friend was happy? Of course. Was it still a bit strange? Hell yeah.

    And even though he had settled things with you, Steve still had no intentions of putting his business out there. It was his own thing, and for good reason.

✺ ✺ ✺

    Your last day of classes came quicker than you had been expecting. A week flew by so quickly, and even in that week you still hadn't fully processed that day you talked to Steve, the things that he had to say to you. From this point on, you would have so much free time on your hands, maybe you would use it to settle in to your new reality. Just a week ago, Steve Rogers had told you he had feelings for you. He had told you that there was a possibility that you could meet each other. What was your life, honestly?

     If anything, right now it was just a swarm of good. You almost expected something bad to happen to snap you out of this blissed out, full mood that you were in. Everything felt perfect right now. Your brand was swinging into action, you were about to graduate, your cam business was going well as usual. And on top of that, you were in the beginnings of a new relationship. Neither of you were sure what it would actually become, but you hardly even wanted to think about that. You were just enjoying the present, though you knew the future would be so unpredictable and so full of new things.

     To celebrate the end of your classes, and more importantly, the end of senior year, you were having a few friends over at your apartment. One plus of having your own place was that you didn't have to move out of dorms, which was a process most of your friends were going through prior to graduation. And being able to have friends over in a place that you could call your own was so special to you.

       "We're really fucking done!" Aaliyah exclaimed, reaching over the counter to pour herself another drink, then shaking her head and deciding it was best to drink from the bottle.

      "I'll drink to that," Cameron agreed, and clinked her glass to Aaliyah's entire bottle.

       "YN, get off your phone. We gotta celebrate!" Luke nudged you harshly, and you chuckled, rubbing your arm in the spot where he'd impacted you.

     As present as you liked to be when you were with your friends, you couldn't help but be on your phone in this moment. You and Steve texted casually beforehand, but ever since that Facetime call last week, you communicated much more frequently. You anticipated texts and snapchats from him, even the occasional call. Often times you just wanted to hear from each other, wanted to update each other on the smallest of things.

     It wasn't obnoxious or overbearing, it felt just right for the situation that you were in with each other. You wanted to feel closer, or at least the illusion of feeling closer. You were trying to talk to each other the way that people with feelings for each other would. But it didn't feel forced. Your banter came naturally, conversation flowed easily, just as it had before. But now, there was an even brighter spark in each and every text message, every silly Snapchat selfie you sent each other.

    Right now, you were texting Steve about the gathering, sliding in sneaky flirts every now and then, like "wish you were here!" You knew how to get to Steve- even the littlest things did him in.

      "Okay, okay, I'm here! Just, lemme make this call real quick. Really, really quick. Promise," you pleaded with your friends, who were jeering at you playfully as you slinked away quickly.

     You were having fun already, but there was something on your mind, something you hadn't done in a while that you wanted to fulfill. Now that you and Steve had established your feelings for each other, it was only appropriate, right?

You texted Steve, telling him to have his laptop ready, because you wanted to Facetime him.

     You had slinked away to your room, and locked the door behind you, setting up your mirror in front of you and sitting criss cross on the floor. You pulled up Steve's name on your laptop, and Facetimed him. You figured he'd be available to video chat, considering you had just been texting quite voraciously. To your pleasure, he picked up, and you were looking at him on the screen again, a feeling that filled you both up each time. 

      Texting was nice, but actually seeing each other on the screen live felt so much more personal. You felt a surge of pride in you, that you had this ability to just call him up like this, to be able to see him like this. You liked knowing you were the only one that could bring this out of him. And you were about to bring a lot more out of him right now.

     "Hey, how's the party?" Steve asked when he picked up, a grin on his features.

     "Compared to talking to you? Ahh, I can't be that mean to my friends," you joked, and it was really only a joke. But it got the reaction you were hoping for- he blushed and started smiling profusely.

      "You're too sweet," he leaned in. "Why'd you wanna call on my laptop instead of my phone, though?"

      You shrugged, not giving anything away just yet,

       "Just wanna see you better. And I have something for you. It'll be easier to multitask."

Steve nodded,

      "I see you've abandoned your friends."

      "Ding ding ding. Just for a minute though. Or an hour. However long it takes you," you shrugged nonchalantly, as if you were saying anything.

     But Steve felt his senses kicking in. You were alone, obviously because you couldn't just talk to him around your friends, but it was more than that. His stomach dropped from nerves, in the best way possible, but also because this was unexpected.

      "However... long it takes me?" he practically gulped, and watched as you pushed back the laptop and started to pull down the sleeves of your blouse just enough to show the pink bra straps.

       "I missed this, Stevie," you pouted, leaning in very intentionally, so that the curves of your boobs would show from over your blouse.

       Steve's jaw ticked as he watched. He was in his room, and it wasn't as late in New York as it was in California. But his door was locked anyway, and time wasn't an issue when it came to you.

     "We talk a lot," Steve blurted awkwardly in response, immediately feeling stupid.

He didn't mean to be so tongue tied, but it had just been a long time since he had interacted with you like this. Sure, he had his moment with the picture of you, but it wasn't the same as being onscreen with you while you did all the things you did to drive him crazy, right in front of his eyes. He had chosen not to view your cam shows or anything that would get in the way of your budding friendship. Now, you were giving it to him. And he wouldn't have resisted before, because he hardly could - but now, it felt much more appropriate, now that your feelings for each other were out there.

     "I know, but not like this. We talk about my day, your missions. Our feelings. Cute shit like that. But I get so bored, Stevie. No one on my cam site can do it like you."

      "Really?" Steve swallowed, licking his lips slowly and taking in every word you said like it was a mixture of milk and honey.

      "Really. You think anyone can make me scream their name the same way you can? And really mean it? You must know I always meant it, Steve," you drawled slightly, continuing to pull down the sleeves of your blouse and your bra straps along with it, so that now your sleeves were down to your chest.

Steve sighed deeply, as if he were trying to contain himself, breathing through his nose. It had been so long, too long, since the two of you had been intimate like this. It was bringing out this feral nature in him that only you could satisfy. And for you, it was exciting to actually have a person to be intimate with just because. Sure, it wasn't the same as physical touch - which, besides Alex, you hadn't had legitimately in far too long - but it was intimate.

    And this time around, it wasn't just for a customer. It was for someone you could genuinely say you had feelings for. And that felt so fulfilling. It was why you were so quick to give it to Steve, because you were craving that excitement, that full feeling. Being with your friends was lovely, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on to escape them for something like this.

     "Do I get to hear you scream my name tonight?" Steve asked, trying to be confident in his responses, but there was a genuine glint of hope in his question.

You laughed, biting down on your lip, and shrugged,

      "If you play your cards right, sure."

      "How do I... play my cards right?" Steve chewed on his bottom lip, anticipatory and a bit anxious.

    "Just do what feels right," you sighed, and took off your blouse completely, the bra falling off in accordance.

Steve's spit caught in his throat at the sight - he'd seen you in every position, but it never got old. Especially since he hadn't seen you like this in so long. He was already palming himself through his sweats, looking hard into the screen of his laptop - he understood now, using a laptop would be much more convenient for this. It was just like his days with you on the site.

      "Can I see?" you asked, a smile growing on your lips as you watched the way his face contorted, the motions his hands made.

He pushed the laptop further down the bed so that you could see all of him, from his growing erection in his black sweats to his reddening face.

    You practically whimpered when you saw it. It was no surprise that you hadn't actually seen him like this, you'd only ever heard his reactions. All those times, you'd been facing a blank screen. You never got to actually see the expressions that he made, never got to see how big he was, never got to see him finish. He'd gotten to see all of that from you, and now it was finally your turn. Regardless of how things were going to go down right now, you wouldn't be able to control yourself.

     Steve watched as you slipped out of your shorts and started to run your fingers along your clit through your underwear, teasing the warm, wet skin that was underneath. His motions matched yours, grazing his cock with his palm through his clothes. He could usually stand teasing himself, but he was harder than he'd ever been, it had been so long. He was still full of so much pent up desire for you.

    He blushed when he realized that you could actually see him too. Sure, you'd heard him before, but that felt different. He hadn't done something like this, ever. Was it risky to show his face as he did something like this? Sure. But did he honestly expect that risk to have consequences? Not anymore. Still, it made him blush because he'd never actually done this before, at least not when you could see him.

    You moaned, choking out your words,

    "You look nervous, Stevie."

    He chuckled, shaking his head,

    "I don't know, I've just... I know we've done this countless times, but you've never been able to see me. Guess I'm feeling a little rusty."

     "You?  Rusty? Never. I think you forget who you are, Steve," you reminded him, and he smirked- of course you would gas him up a bit, how could he forget how cocky you could make him feel sometimes?

    "Force of habit," he shrugged, and you took your bottom lip under your teeth.

    "Steve?" you asked between pleasured sighs.

    "Yeah?"

     "I really wanna see you. Can you do that for me?" you cooed, putting on your best puppy dog eyes - you wanted to see him for real, not just through the outline of his sweats. You knew he was big, you had known that even before he revealed who he was. But now it was like some sudden kink, to want to see just how big your superhero was.

    He knew exactly what you meant, and the pleading in your voice only made him want to show you even more. He was almost eager as he pulled his sweats down, his cock already springing upwards in his boxers, forming a tent. He watched as your two fingers spun slow circles around your clit once you pushed your panties to the side. Seeing your bare flesh again made him grunt, made his cock twitch in his boxers.

    "Please, Stevie," you groaned, wanting to see all of him.

    "I got you, doll, don't worry," he replied — it was cute to see you get all worked up, but he wouldn't hold out on you for too long. He respected the fact that you were even doing this right now — for that, he decided you got whatever you wanted.

You kept whining until he finally pulled down his boxers and his cock sprung loose. It was hard and heavy, it nearly made you drool just to look at it. You knew he was big, but he was big. Bigger than anyone you'd seen or even had. Just the sight of it, veiny, standing in the air, and throbbing for you made you moan uncontrollably. You were unbelievably wet already, and couldn't help but sink two fingers inside of you - they slid in too easily.

     Your fingers felt the warm and gushy flesh inside of you and you sucked in a breath, just watching his cock on the screen. It was something so deliciously overdue, so much overdue that it felt like a sweet release just to see it. You rolled your head back, and Steve gripped the base of his cock, watching your fingers dip in and out of you while you pleasured yourself.

    "Mmh," you mewled, biting your lip. You looked back on the screen, a needy pout plastered all over your glossy lips, a desperate crease in your brows as you focused in on his cock. You groaned gutturally, just looking at him, imagining what it would be like to take him inside of you, inside any part of you. Your voice was whiny, desperate with amazement. "You're so big."

       Steve's chest pounded at the sound of your voice - so needy and raw, like the sight of him was too much for you. He watched the way your fingers rubbed vigorously at your clit, which was wet and slick with your juices. His hand worked tirelessly at himself, jerking up and down his shaft, his fingers toying with the head, glowing with his precum.

    "You like my cock?" he asked in response, just so he could hear the edge in your voice.  

You sighed in pleasure, scooching your hips forward so Steve could see you better,

    "Yes, baby, I want you so bad."

    "You want it?" Steve gave in to his desire to tease you back, which really became stronger when he saw how needy you were for him. You watched his face, which was a mix of derisive and focused, focused on getting you both to orgasm, his brows furrowed in pleasure, mouth partially open at all times. The groan that came out of Steve was deep and animalistic, reflective of how much he needed this with you after not having it for so long. "Does it turn you on? Begging for my cock?"

       You whimpered - the more dominant side of Steve was coming out, and you hardly had to coax him into it. He was assuming such a daddy role, you couldn't help it when the pet name slipped out of your mouth,

     "God, yes, daddy."

Steve's eyes were blown with lust, his eyelids heavy, but they widened just a bit when he heard what you called him. You hadn't even thought much about it, but Steve was hanging onto it desperately.

       "Daddy? Is that what I am?" he repeated with a low chuckle, slowing his strokes so he could focus on your response.

You wriggled around and mewled out in response, scrunching your eyes shut as you tried to avoid having to answer him.

      "I'm not hearing an answer, doll," Steve pressed, and you clenched around your fingers, an orgasm sure to arrive shortly - his tone was so authoritative and cocky - you shouldn't have let that slip, but then again, you loved it.

      "Fuck!" you shouted, thrusting your fingers deeper inside of you, your knuckles hitting your clit. "Yes, daddy, that's what you are."

    "Hmm, yeah, that's it," Steve breathed out of his nose, relaxing back into his pillow and letting the careless motions of his hand take over. He was so far gone, any tension from the day so far removed that his head felt clear, and a wave of pleasure rushed over him. So much so that he wasn't even really thinking when he next spoke, his eyes shut and his hands closed around his throbbing cock. "Mm, I can't wait to fuck you."

     A sound you didn't expect came out of you then, and you clenched hard around your fingers as you came, gasping for air and rocking your hips against your fingers deliriously, sweat just starting to drip down your forehead. Steve's orgasm came soon after that, like it was chasing after yours. You both took your time to recover, reveling in the moment. It felt like a sense of peace had flooded your room, and it felt the same for Steve. You both knew it had been too long since you got each other off. And everytime it happened, it was explosive. Just now, it had been on a whim, as a result of your own spontaneity - and you were a bit horny as well. Man, were you glad for those last minute decisions of yours.

     You wiped sweat off your forehead, still breathing hard, and pulled up your underwear - which was no help, you were still soaking through them. But you got dressed accordingly and so did Steve, and you stayed on the call until one of you spoke.

    "Your friends are looking for you, I bet," Steve commented, and you smirked, shrugging.

     "Don't worry, they'll be fine," you grinned, licking your lips.

Steve's eyes were still bleared over, but he was looking right at you,

      "Think they heard us?"

Even after all that, your pussy throbbed at his words, at the thought. If only Steve could see.

    "Dunno."

    "I get the feeling you don't care," Steve grinned, eyes sparkling - he too was glad for your spontaneity.

As you sat recovering, rocking gently back and forth with your knees pulled up to your chest, a small smile appeared on your lips as you recalled the words that had triggered you to come. It was mindless to Steve, a subconscious thought of his that had slipped out of his lips in that moment of pure bliss, as casual and thoughtless as asking "how was your day?"

     "You said you can't wait to fuck me," you hummed, tilting your head to the side, a devious but satisfied smile on your lips.

    You liked, no loved, the way it sounded coming from his lips this time around. Before, you had always shared your fantasies aloud, telling the other that you wished you could be there. But that was before - before you even knew him, before you knew each other the way that you knew each other now. There was no depth to the words. But now, it felt like a prompt to put things into motion, like Steve knew that his wish would become a reality, like he really was serious about meeting you. He didn't just wish he could fuck you, he couldn't wait to. That, to you, sounded like there was already a plan set where something like that could be possible. Like Steve had been thinking about it, a thought that dually excited you and made you wet.

     Steve blushed at the reminder - he had hardly recognized that he had let that slip. Again, it was more of a subconscious thought of his, one that hadn't yet come to the surface. Although he had plans to meet you, knew that it had to happen at some point, he hadn't yet thought of the specifics. It just sort of came out of him, something that he didn't realize he'd been thinking about - that he'd one day have the chance to meet you, that he really could fuck you when the time came. He supposed that the excitement of the moment got him thinking that this prominent physical, sexual gap could be closed once you met. It wasn't the only reason he wanted to meet you, but in the moment, it was what was most on his mind. And the only difference in what he said this time around was that it insinuated driving fantasies into reality.

    "I did, huh?" Steve questioned, smirking slightly.

    He knew what you were getting to, and it got you both excited and nervous all at once. You both knew it was going to happen, but once he said that, it felt like things were becoming much realer.

     "Mhm. That true?" you batted your lashes playfully, making him laugh - he missed this feeling, the friendly interactions after getting each other off, how humorous and organic it felt.

    "Yeah, it's true," Steve nodded, settling into the reality himself. He knew what had to be done, and he knew it had to be set in motion quickly. "Guess we better meet sooner than later, huh?"

     "Just so you can fuck me," you said decidedly, making the both of you laugh.

    "It's not as wholesome as I was expecting," Steve cleared his throat. "But really, you and I both know it's not just because of that. And it very well could be, but we both have so much to offer."

     "Mhm, but you really wanna fuck me," you continued, and Steve knew he had to let you bask in this moment, had to let you shine in all your glory.

He laughed at how big headed you were acting, shaking his head,

      "There's that, too."

     "Hey, really though, if it takes time, I understand," you nodded, making it clear once again that you weren't rushing anything.

    "It takes time, but I can make time," Steve replied quickly.

    He wanted you to feel secure, didn't want you to feel like you had to backtrack from what you both wanted. It would take a lot of work from him to make things work out, would take a lot of self reflection, but he knew that for you, he could handle it. Neither of you were rushing things, but you both realized that you couldn't hold off for too long, that you needed each other soon- physically and emotionally. There was only so much you could do through a screen. The more you talked about it, the more the days passed by, the stronger the urge became. You'd both commit to not allowing it to drive you up the wall - but you could only resist so much. You had to see each other, soon.

    You smiled, impressed by Steve's words. He would make time. That was all you ever really wanted to hear.

    "Yeah?"

    "Yeah. It's a lot, but it can be done. We'll have to be careful, because there's so much... stuff that goes into this. And I have to get myself together first, when it comes to my team and how this will all go down in a way that won't impact my work, or your work, for that thought. But I care about you. And... and I know that this is the next step, and we don't have to rush it, but it's better to see you sooner than later," Steve explained, the gears already churning in his mind- lots of work to be done.

     He didn't want to keep you a secret, but he didn't want to mess up the consistency in his relationships with his team and his relationship with his work. That was one thing that he'd have to figure out. And besides, he liked having you all to himself. When the time was right to be open about it, he'd know. That was just one of the elements he'd have to think of when it came to getting you to him.

     "I care about you too," you pouted slightly, and then smiled again. "And I really do want to see you. When it's right, it's right. You know?"

     "Yeah," Steve took his bottom lip under his teeth. "So... when is it right for you?"

You raised your brows - was he asking for your schedule? Was this really going to happen? You knew that was the focus of your conversation, but actually progressing was something so jarring to think of.

     "For me?" you repeated, gawking slightly at the camera.

     "Yeah, like... I don't know. When's a good time for you?" he asked, as if he were scheduling a simple lunch date.

      Your head started to swarm with thoughts, mainly thoughts surrounding your own availability. Once you graduated, you'd have all the time in the world. Sure, you'd have to start working and continue handling your clothing brand, but you would have plenty of free time on your hands. You wanted to settle into the real world without education first, but you figured that you'd be ready for this adventure soon after graduation.

    "Ah, well... I'm- I'm graduating... this week. And, um, after that I'm pretty much free. I'll need like a week or two to decompress, but after that, I guess-"

      "You can see me," Steve completed your sentence for you, because you were having a hard time spitting the words out of your mouth.

     For all your logic and need for stability, you were floored by the idea of actually planning something like this out. For the umpteenth time that week you were asking yourself: "what is my life?" And for Steve, it was jarring too. It was odd for him to think that he would ever be going through with something like this, something that he had resisted so adamantly beforehand. He couldn't say that he couldn't picture himself in this position with you beforehand, because a small part of him could. 

      It seemed so unfeasible and far fetched to him back then, but it was part of the reason why he pushed back. Now, here he was, in this unbelievable position. But it didn't deter him, it just served as a reminder of how much he had grown since he met you, the same way you had grown.

    "Yeah," you chuckled out nervously, a beam breaking out on your face. You huffed, as if you couldn't believe it, but you were so glad it was true. "Yeah... then I can meet you."

A beat of silence passed as you both just looked at each other over the screen, settling into this moment together. It was like there was a bubble that enclosed just you and him. A circumstance so exclusive that it was as if only the two of you could understand it. And the way you were looking at each other now, you couldn't wait to look into each other's eyes for real.

    "Well," Steve chuckled, raising his brows. "I guess I'll have to make arrangements."

    "Yeah, me too," you refrained from snorting out of excitement, and just sat back.

    "You should get back to your friends, before they start suspecting anything."

    "I assure you, they are not worried about me," a loud garble of laughter sounded through your walls, loud enough for Steve to hear. "See?"

     You both laughed, but you took in a breath, nodding,

     "Ah, you're right though. I should go."

    "Got it. Hey, I'll see you. Soon," said Steve, but the farewell felt so much deeper now.

You winked, leaning forward to hang up,

     "See you, Steve."

You hung up, still giddy and buzzing with exhilaration. You still didn't know what to expect, but you kind of knew when to expect it. And it was coming soon. You had to resist from counting down the days. As Steve suggested, you returned to your friends. You had no trouble focusing on them and your celebration for the rest of the night. But the warmth you felt in your cheeks, the wetness between your thighs, and the smile etched on your face all reminded you of what was to come.

[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.

[songsofacagedbird]

Self Para 003: But Don't You Waste the Suffering You've Faced, It Will Serve You in Due Time Word Count: 4,530 words Notes: I’ll probably reblog this onto Zander later too considering this is a duel POV one and he has his own section, although it is mostly Balo. Also this is pure angst, I’m sorry. I do feel like it is important to note that this self para did end up giving me second hand anxiety, so if you’re prone to anxiety right now or if you’re highly empathetic, please tread with caution. Thank you! TWs: Disownment, (Child) Abuse (mentioned, not actually occurring), Anxiety & Anxiety Attacks, Dysfunctional Family Dynamics, Suffocation (mentioned, not actually occurring), Blood Transfusions (mentioned, not actually occurring), murder / death (mentioned in threats)

Graduation was supposed to be exciting, a moment where she was bouncing off the walls as she eagerly said goodbye to this chapter of her life. So, why wasn’t Balo happy about it? It was almost as if she started to dread it more and more as the time passed, sure, she was relieved that it was almost summer vacation. She was still playing a certain phone call in the back of her head, how easy it could have been to- no, it didn’t matter. It didn’t do her any good to think about it, and so she shifts her attention back to packing up her room.

“They’re hosting a father's day's brunch, and I don’t want to go.” She tells the teddy bears on her shelf, knowing full well they can’t respond. But, that was what made telling them easy, they couldn’t react poorly to any secrets she whispered to them, they couldn’t worry about her, or say something that made her feel guilty for coming to them at all.

And despite how safe it was to talk to inanimate objects about everything, she’d much rather talk to Leo. He understood, probably more than anyone expected him too. Maybe they’d be able to find their own corner of the brunch on Sunday, say Zander was their father so they wouldn’t be excluded or something. Although, she was probably expected to sit with George and Jack, which, considering she’d heard through the grapevine he’d dumped Juliet, well, Balo wasn’t exactly excited to sit at a table with Jack and their adoptive parents in general after everything that had occurred the past several months, but especially now.

Maybe that made her a bad daughter, but, it was far from the first time she’d been one, and she’d doubted it’d be the last. After all there was a reason her own parents hadn’t wanted her, and she supposed that only made it worse. She wasn’t going to see her mom, she doubted Will could afford to fly in again, and Grace probably was going to try to protect herself. What was there to be excited about? She survived her last year at Luxor, but she’d survived plenty of bad situations before, it wasn’t worthy of celebration.

The shirt in her hands falls to the floor. Wait, what was that? Her head whips in the direction of the noise. Who was knocking on her door? She hadn’t been expecting anyone. Still, she picks up the article of clothing, quickly trying to fold it to pack before she forgot it.

“Balo, open up, we have a surprise for you!” Ches, but, what did she mean by a surprise? What had she roped Zander or Collen into this time? Balo sets the shirt onto the pile before she walks over to her bedroom door to open it.

Wait. Was that Grace and Will?

“Ohmygosh!” Balo throws herself at Will before reaching out to try Grace into a group hug, clinging to them closely. “When you guys hadn’t said anything, I thought that you weren’t-  because mom and dad-” She can’t help the tears rolling down her cheeks, the way she holds onto them even tighter.

“There, there.” Grace pats her back awkwardly, “we’re here. That’s what matters.” She’d never been the best with these kinds of emotions, Balo knew that, but she appreciated the effort, the attempt to comfort her. “But you might not-”

“What Gracie is trying to say is, we’re not the only surprise.” Will interrupts, “and they’re not all good. Lance is not happy I came.” Wait, why would Lance care? Unless…

Balo let’s go of her siblings immediately, turning to look at Zander and Ches. “What did you two do?” She hisses at them, but neither of them seemed keen either. Okay, so Ches hadn’t decided to do something like trying to repair family relationships, and while she feels guilty for even considering, for a moment, that Ches was capable of being so dumb. She knew that Ches didn’t always think through her plans to help, but she wouldn’t, not if she thought it’d hurt Balo.

“There’s a Father’s Day brunch, Balo. I didn’t do shit. Luxor sent out the invitation for me.” Zander groans, “but it’s going to be fine, because that means mom is coming too, which means he can’t really hurt her for talking to you right? There’s too many eyes. You can ask her all the questions you’ve been meaning to-”

“Yeah, Sherlock, until they go home.” Grace huffs, glancing over to Zander with a perplexed expression. “Did you even think before you opened your mouth?”

“She’s talking about leaving him, in case you didn’t get the memo, Grace. I know California is so great you can’t be bothered to pick up a phone call-”

“Enough.” Will interrupts the two, giving both Grace and Zander a look. “Mom has always done what she’s wanted to. If she’s decided to take a risk, it’s because she felt it was safe enough for all of us to take. She wouldn’t have helped Ches with my plane ticket if she didn’t want me here, I’m pretty certain Lance coming is the only thing she wasn’t counting on.” Wait, their mother had helped with getting Will here?

“The father day brunch invitations were already sent out, and Lance had told Zander he was coming, in my defense. This was all Mrs. Driskelll, I only provided the capital.” Ches defends herself before Balo can even glance at her. The redhead’s expression was too guilty, but Balo doesn’t have it in her to reassure her friend right now. It wasn’t like she could blame her for Lance showing up, not even if she had reached out to her mother before that point. He was like a ghost, he’d always come back to haunt her. She was the fool for thinking that she’d be free after he'd disowned her.

“How bad is it going to be if dad sees us together?” Balo questions, shifting awkwardly. Suddenly the bad gut feeling was only even more intensified. What were people going to say with Lance Driskell here after her secret reveal? Everyone knew her father was abusive now, no, she couldn’t-

She turns quickly, darting into her bathroom and closing the door behind her. Her knees sting as they hit the tile, desperately trying to find a quiet corner to tuck in onto herself and hide. She can hear them discussing who’s going to come in and check on her, whispering among themselves. A door opens, but much to her surprise it’s not the one to the bathroom. Although it opens a few minutes later, and the person who sits down beside her is the one person she’d never expect to see now.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner, bambi.”

The tears start to fall even harder as she hears that voice, as delicate fingers tuck her blonde hair behind her ears. She can’t even bring herself to look, she wants this to be a bad dream, because that’d be easier to face than the reality of the situation. “Why didn’t you want me?” She sobs, even though she certainly didn’t want to know the answer.

“I have wanted you since the moment I knew I was pregnant with you, and that has never changed.” Cassandra Driskell reassures her daughter, continuing to stroke her hair. “Everything I have ever done was to protect you, but, I’m starting to realize I didn’t go about this the right way.”

“You think?” Zander shouts from the doorway, okay, he definitely hadn’t been the one to go grab her mother. Wait if Cass was here?

“Is he already here too?” Where was Grace? Did Will wander off? Ches- immediately, Balo has the motivation to move despite the fact she’s only getting more panicked by the second.

“I can see everyone, they’re safe, little one.” Her mother reassures her, reaching out to pull her into her arms. Immediately, Balo relaxes into the embrace, continuing to sob as her mother tries to comfort her. “I can handle Lance, you don’t have to worry about anything. I’m sorry I had to cut contact, I was trying to do what was safest for you, with how angry he was... it was better directed towards me, and only me.”

Wait, Lance had gone after her because of Balo? This was her fault, it was all her fault, again she’d failed at being a good daughter. But before she can apologize, Zander’s right there. “It was safer for you. That’s what it’s always been, an attempt to protect yourself.” He hisses, “you never loved her, or me, or Will, or Grace. We were just convenient for you.”

“That’s not true-” “Then why the fuck didn’t you leave him?”

Was Zander crying? Balo glances over to her brother, reaching out for his hand as he tries to wipe the tears from his eyes. She knew better than to draw attention to it, that pointing it out would only make things worse.

“I was scared he’d come after you, that he'd kill us for leaving him.” Cassandra’s voice shakes, for the first time her mother doesn’t seem nearly as composed as she always did. “I did try to leave once, when you and Gracie were babies. But, I couldn’t- not after I found out about Balo. There was no way I could take care of the three of you on my own. I could barely afford to take care of the two of you, and Lance- he’d promised... and I was stupid enough to believe him.”

“Is it awkward if I leave and let you guys discuss this as a family?” Ches calls to them awkwardly, “because I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be here for this.” For a moment, Balo laughs, but before she can say anything. Zander is answering.

“Stay, I need you to stay. Don’t fucking leave me, Chessie, please.” He sounds so broken, and immediately Ches is coming to join them on the bathroom floor. How long would it be until Will and Grace tried to crowd in here with them? Was there even enough room?

As if Grace can read her mind, she’s calling to them from the doorway. “Well, we can’t all crowd into Balo’s bathroom, so if we could move this to the living room, that’d be great. Especially if she has to stay.” Despite the snide comment geared towards Ches, Grace had a point. Balo forces herself to get up off her bathroom floor -  trying to shove the fact she would rather hide in a bathroom than face the first genuine family discussion they’d ever had in her life aside.

This was for the best though, right? Finally getting everything off of their chests, working through at least part of the past 20-or-so-years of trauma. Sure, there was no chance to fix things, but perhaps trying to talk would bring some sense of closure, answer the questions that’d been eating at her for months.

Her mother owed her, all of them, that much.

—

It seemed like the more Zander talked to his mother, the more conflicted about her he’d become. Even hours after their chat, getting dressed for the convocation dinner, he wasn’t sure what he thought. On one hand, he was glad that he was wrong about so many things with her - that she'd been willing to admit to her many, many faults as a mother. That she acknowledged how much she’d hurt them, and she was sorry, and she was going to try to be a better mother going forward. That she’d only signed those papers to ensure Balo was provided with a life she could never give her, that she knew about Grace’s girlfriend and that she supported them full heartedly - despite the fact their father certainly wouldn’t. That it wasn’t her choice to send away Will, and she’d been sneaking him money because he was her son - a fact Zander had never known until William had brought it to the table himself.

His mother wasn’t evil, she had good intentions, he could see that now, but that didn’t erase the damage she’d done unintentionally to her children. She could have gotten them out there, she should have gotten them out of there.

So why was he willing to forgive her?

He throws the tie down in frustration, before he forces himself to lean down and pick it back up. Where the fuck was Ches when he needed her? Elliot’s, probably, actually, knowing her she’d gone right back to his room as soon as she dropped Clover off at the lake house for a couple hours. Drew and Clarissa were watching the dogs this weekend during the dinners and ceremonies, something about using the time to socialize Clover with other dogs while she had them around, and he supposed that made sense. Treadwell was certainly not a bad dog to socialize with, and while he didn’t know much about Ester, it was Effie’s - so it likely wasn’t demonic.

He doesn’t even question if he should interrupt Ches and Elliot before knocking on the door. “Elswood, help! I can’t get my fucking tie.” He calls out, “I keep suffocating myself.”

“One of these days you need to learn how to tie your own tie.” Ches calls back. Well, at least he knew her well enough to guess where she was. She comes out into the hall to take the fabric from him, shaking her head a little. Wait, was she wearing yellow? That was new. “You’re going to talk to your brother this time, right?” He had been supposed to during Thanksgiving, he’d told Ches he was going to. Hell, she’d even dragged him to William in an attempt to get them to talk, and he’d gotten cold feet.

“Will he even want to talk to me?”

“You’ll never know unless you try. He’s your brother, and from the way he talks about you... yeah, in my professional opinion, yes. He does.” She informs him as she ties his tie for him.

“Your professional opinion?” “I really should start charging you for all these therapy sessions.” “That’s cute, Elswood, real funny.” “Thanks, I’ll be here all day!”

In all seriousness though, Ches had a point - even though it was obvious she was joking from her demeanor. “I’ll talk to him. So, about Elliot’s dad... should I be wishing you luck or...?”

“No luck needed, now go talk to your brother.”

As soon as the tie is finished, she’s heading back inside, not giving him much of a choice in the matter. Whatever she was up to inside was clearly more important- no, him going to talk to his brother was more important. Why did she always have to have a point? He huffs a little as he goes off to try to figure out where William was. “Will, can we talk?” He asks the moment he spots the man in the grand hall, chattering with Cassandra and Balo. “Alone. It’s important.”

“Of course.” Concern crosses the older boy's features as he lets Zander lead him off. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been a horrible brother-” He doesn’t get to finish the statement, the apology before the shock on William’s face takes him aback. Had he grown another head? He might as well have if the look his brother was currently giving him was any indicator.

“What?”

“I’ve been giving you shit for years, and it hasn’t been fair. I don’t call nearly often enough, and when I do it’s to tattle on Balo or because I’m having a crisis of some sort.” Zander points out, “and I can barely call you my brother some days after...”

“That doesn’t make you a horrible brother, it’s okay, Zander.” Will goes to pull him in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. “I know these things are hard for you.”

“I was jealous of you.” “I know.” “You aren’t mad?” “Not in the slightest. I understand why. Taking care of Balo was always your thing, and then suddenly there’s someone else stepping in and doing that too. If the roles were reversed, I’m not sure I would have taken kindly to my adoption either.”

It’s almost as if a weight is lifted from his shoulders at the genuine assurance that William didn’t hate him for what he’d put the man through, and not only that, but he understood. “I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit, Will. There were posters...”

“I know. That wasn’t your best moment, and in that moment you were acting like a horrible brother, but that doesn’t make you one.”

“It hurt, when you got sent away, didn’t it?” Of course it did, why was Zander asking this as if he didn’t already lay in bed at night and imagine how much he’d hurt William by growing even more distant after he was shipped off, and it’d only gotten worse when he’d seen how badly Balo had taken everything. No matter what Will was telling him, he was a horrible brother. A good brother wouldn’t have left him alone through that, a good brother would have...

“It did, but you needed to protect yourself too. We didn’t exactly have a normal upbringing.” Will points out, “again - I understand. Lance stabbed you, Zan. That’s more than enough reason to not upset him more.” Was he going to be okay with Lance here? Zander rubs the back of his neck as he starts to question how safe having Will here actually was. While he was actually glad to see him, he couldn’t imagine how hard of a decision this was for him. To stay safe, or walk back into the lion's den.

“Are you worried about... you know?” “Scared shitless. But it’s worth it. If I’d thought you’d be okay with it, I would have come last year. But I didn’t want to overstep...”

“I’ve regretted not inviting you.” Another regret that kept him awake, not just because he thought that Will was better at protecting Balo - they’d already talked about that. The only thing he’d been able to get out during Thanksgiving, come think of it. “I’m sorry, for how I’ve treated you Will. I love you, you’re my brother, and I’m sorry I wasn't better at expressing that sooner.” Again, Wiliam hugs him, and this time Zander hugs him back - a bit awkwardly.

“I forgave you years ago, just stop being a stranger. I want us to be mates.” Friends? He could do that.

“Mates, or mateys?” He jokes without thinking. For a moment, he worries that he’ll offend Will, but the boy chuckles, pulling away and patting him on the back.

“Why not both? I am the captain of the Flying Dutchman.” “Don’t let Ches hear you say that.” “Trust me, I know. Now come on, let’s go find Gracie. She’s terrorizing the other one you and Balo hang out with, the boy... Collen?”

Well, he couldn’t leave her to do that now, could he? And Zander has no issue following after William, feeling like for the first time - things with him and his brother were actually good. That there was no ill-blood lingering, that moving forward they actually would be friends.

If only he’d talked to him during Thanksgiving, it would have saved him a lot of sleepless nights.

—

“There’s one more thing I want to talk to you about, Balo. Now that your siblings aren’t here...”

Balo blinks, turning her attention from walking Will and Zander walk off to her mother at the words. What was there to discuss that they couldn’t say in front of her siblings? Surely she didn’t mean- for a moment she starts to panic, glancing over her shoulder for Lance but there’s no sight of the man. “It’d be better if we discussed this someplace a bit more privately.” Her mother adds, as if she wasn’t already panicked enough.

Still, she follows her mother when she leads her to someplace quieter, only breathing when she realizes Lance is nowhere in sight. Safe, they were safe. “Is everything okay, mom?”

“No, not really.” Cassandra confesses, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, about your father.” Wait, was her mother going to tell her who it was? For a moment, she feels a bit of excitement at the chance of finally finding out who it was, while it’d been eating at her since she’d put two and two together in Japan. “I haven’t been completely honest about who your biological father was. I was seeing someone when I was separated, that part isn't a secret, your father is completely aware I was. But I was trying to protect you...”

“Why would you have to protect me, if Lance knew he wasn’t my father?” Wait, Lance knew, right? Wasn’t that why he treated her even worse than the other Driskell children?

“I... might have not mentioned that fact.” Well, that made things interesting. Was he aware now? He had to have figured it out at some point down the line, right? “You don’t seem surprised. How did you figure it out?” She seemed concerned, almost confirming her suspicions that Lance knew.

“I needed a blood transfusion when we were in Japan, Zander couldn’t donate. My blood type isn’t a match to either of you....” She explains, tucking some blonde hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t sure if I could ask, when we were all together, and I just got you back, I didn’t want to- I don’t want you to leave again, so I thought if I just didn’t- you know?” She can’t help the tears rolling down her cheeks again, or the guilt she feels when her mother moves to try to wipe them away again, pulling her in for a hug and stroking her hair, whispering reassuring words she couldn’t quite make out completely over her own sobbing.

“I’m not going anywhere ever again, I promise.” Cassandra whispers, continuing to stroke her hair. “I’m so sorry you had to find out like that, bambi.” And she seemed genuinely apologetic, a bit too focused on reassuring Balo to continue on about what she wanted to say. And Balo clings to her mother even tighter at the promise she wasn’t leaving, how was she supposed to know that? She wasn’t supposed to leave her in the first place.

How was she supposed to trust something wouldn’t tear them apart again?

“Did he ever-” Could Balo even ask that, if her biological father ever wanted anything to do with her? Cassandra sighs, pulling away to look her in the eyes.

“It was safer for everyone involved if there was no contact. But, bambi, I’m not sure you’re ready for the answers to your questions.” She wants to protest, tell her mother if she was old enough to tell, surely she was old enough to know why he wasn’t involved, or who her biological father even was, but she relents, deflating as she realizes she wasn’t going to find out who it was from her mother anytime soon. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but baby steps. He was a good man...” She trails off, and when Balo glances over her shoulder, she immediately understands why.

Was she supposed to say hello? What was the best way to handle Lance Driskell at the moment? “Balian.” He greets her, “how about I walk you and your mother back to dinner? It’s about to start, isn’t it?” Wait, was he being nice? Confusion fills her features immediately, but she doesn’t protest when he offers her an arm. This was too private, if she upset him... “You wouldn’t happen to know why your classmates are giving me strange looks, would you, lass?” He whispers in her ear as soon as she’s close enough to, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

“Someone dug up old court records, tried to use them against Zander and I. We’ve been trying to do damage control ever since, but not everyone believes us it was a one off.” Balo whispers back, hoping the lie isn’t too obvious. Where was Zander and Will? Even Jack right now would be better than being alone with Lance and Cass. “I swear I didn’t tell anyone anything, dad.” He seems calm, but, when it came to her father, sometimes she wouldn’t know she was in trouble until he striked, and the inability to tell if she was safe, or in extreme danger, only made her even more frightened. Where was Leo? She wanted Leo, right now.

“Don’t let it happen again.” He believed her, and it suddenly feels easier to breathe. “Oh, and Balian?” As soon as the relief came across her, it was gone as it became apparent he wasn’t finished with her quite yet. “If you ever step out of line again, I’ll personally ensure you will never speak to your mother again. Do I make myself clear?” There’s a threat there, she knows it, and she’s immediately nodding along.

“Yes sir! I won’t, I promise.” She couldn’t, and once they reach the grand hall, she drops his arm.

“Good, it was nice to see you again. Come along, Cassie.” Lance doesn’t give her much room to say much else, not that Balo wanted to, and as soon as they’re gone, she can feel the tears welling up in her eyes again. Leo, where was Leo? She scans the grand hall, trying to see if she can find him but before she can get very far, there’s another person coming up to her.

“Hey there, buttercup!” Emmett greets her, although his expression quickly shifts when he notices her crying, the mirth that seemed to sparkle in his eyes getting replaced with someone much more serious. “You can come hang out with Cam and me, if you’d like.” And while she’d much rather hide behind Leo, the offer to have someone with her until more people arrived, and it wasn’t just a handful of them in the grand hall, wasn’t something she could bring herself to deny.

“Please?”

“Always. If you want to stay with us in the city this summer or anything, really. I know my father offered you an internship.” He had missed the memo; she didn’t want to discuss that, didn’t he? Still, she nods. She had been offered a design internship with The Elswoods, and she still couldn’t bring herself to say yes. After all, how much of it was them actually being impressed by her talents, and how much of it was nepotism? She wasn’t sure how much Ches had whispered in his ear.

“Can we discuss this later?” “Of course, come on. Camellia has more animal pics for you.” Now, that was a subject she was more than happy to discuss. She follows Emmett quietly, hoping that he wouldn’t be too offended; she wasn’t her usual excitable self at the moment. She had way too much on her mind to wear that mask at the moment.

Now all she needed to do was hope that somehow, she’d be able to find the energy to put it on before everyone arrived.

[hookedonapirate]

Happy Birthday @nikkiemms​!!!

I saw it was your birthday today and wanted to write a little something for you. You are always one of the first people to comment/like/reblog my stories and I wanted to thank you and let you know how much I appreciate you! I hope you are having a wonderful birthday and are able to do something fun today. Lots of love! 🎉🧁❤

This one-shot was inspired by a children's birthday party I went to a few weeks ago when a man dressed in uniform caused a freak-out among all the adults. Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld​ for encouraging me to write it when I wasn't sure what to write, and for looking it over!

Hope you enjoy @nikkiemms​!

You Can Put Out My Fire Anytime

Rated: Teens and up

Also available on: AO3 I FF.N

Emma wanted her son’s seventh birthday party to be perfect. Which is exactly why she’d asked her sister-in-law to help her out. Mary Margaret is great with kids; she’s an elementary school teacher, so she has to be great with kids for the sake of her sanity. And If the peals of laughter from the kids are any indication, they'd pulled it off. 

  Now they can sit back in their lawn chairs on the back porch, sipping punch, chatting with the other moms and relaxing for a minute as the little ones make use of the jungle gym, and David and Robin grill up some hot dogs and hamburgers. The other food has already been prepared and set on the table, protected in food storage containers with lids, except for Henry’s birthday cake, which is in the house for later.

  “I’m surprised Lily and Liam aren’t here. Didn’t you invite them?” Mary Margaret asks Emma.

  Emma scans the children playing on the jungle gym, squinting her eyes. “You’re right. They’re not here. I’m pretty sure they were on the list.”

  Mary Margaret laughs. “If Henry had anything to do with the invitations, Lily was definitely on the list.”

  Emma arches a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Mary Margaret shakes her head, waving off Emma’s question. “Oh nothing, forget I said anything.”

  Emma crosses her arms over her chest, eyes shooting daggers at her sister-in-law. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Mary Margaret sighs in defeat and puts up her hands. “Okay, I could be wrong, but I think Henry has a little crush on Lily. You did not hear that from me. I made a pinky swear not to tell anyone.”

  Emma furrows her brows. “If you made a pinky swear then he must have told you.”

  Mary Margaret makes a motion with her fingers to zip her lips. “Sorry, I can’t say anymore.”

  “So Henry likes a girl? But he’s only seven.”

  “Oh please, you’re never too young to have a crush. How old were you when you started chasing boys?”

  “I never chased boys,” Emma says defensively. 

  Mary Margaret eyes her skittishly. “Sure, Emma, sure,” she smiles knowingly. 

  “Okay maybe one or two,” Emma admits with a coy smile and a sigh. 

  Thankfully, her sister-in-law drops the subject and heads inside the house to use the bathroom.

  “Liam! Lily!” Henry shouts and races across the yard as two other kids, a boy and a girl, run to meet him. The boy is carrying a gift bag that’s almost as big as he is and Henry takes it, dropping it off at the gift table before the three of them run off toward the jungle gym.

  “I guess their parents were too busy to join us?” Emma remarks to no one in particular.

  “Parent,” Regina corrects. “Their mother left when they were young. So now it’s just them and their father.”

  “Really?” Emma asks, her heart cracking for the two kids as she watches them play with Henry and the others. 

  Lily is a beautiful young girl with long, shimmering black hair and blue eyes, and Liam shares similar physical traits. In fact, they even look similar in age. “They look the same age. Are they twins?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “Um… are we missing anyone?” Ashley asks, her voice edged with panic as she points at each child, counting them under her breath.

  Fear rises in Emma’s chest as she shoots up from her chair and scans the children, making sure everyone is there who’s supposed to be there. But no one appears to be missing. “Why do you say that?”

  “Oh, perhaps because of the policeman who just entered the backyard, carrying a children’s baseball cap,” Regina answers.

  Her statement sends the mothers into a fit of panic, all of them darting their eyes in search of the aforementioned cop.

  Emma takes one look at him as David and Robin head over to chat with him. Even the fathers are freaked out about having a cop in the backyard.

  Emma's heart stutters when she sees him.

  He’s wearing a badge and a uniform, but this is no ordinary cop. This man is freaking gorgeous. He’s tall and muscular with dark hair, his skin is moistened with sweat and bronzed from the sun. He’s so perfect he looks straight from a magazine. Do they have porn featuring men in uniforms because if not they really should. This man looks way too good to be real. 

  Emma’s been to jail before, taking the fall for her ex's crime, and she's never wished to go back, but right now she's wishing this man would take her away in handcuffs.

  When the policeman is laughing with the fathers and Emma realizes there is no present danger or missing kid, she is curious why he is here and wonders what her sister-in-law is up to. As soon as Mary Margaret returns to the porch, Emma narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Did you hire a stripper for a children’s party?”

  Mary Margaret wrinkles her brows in confusion. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

  Emma nods her head toward the gorgeous policeman. “What does he look like to you?”

  “Who?” Mary Margaret looks over Emma’s shoulder, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “Oh, you mean the firefighter? That’s Liam and Lily’s father.” She shoots up her hand and waves as she heads down the porch steps. “Hello, Killian!”

  “That’s Lily and Liam’s father?” Emma repeats to herself, staring at him with her mouth agape. 

  "You forgot your lucky hat," Killian calls to his son, holding up the baseball cap. 

  Holy Hell. He has an accent too? 

  Liam rushes over for the hat and a hug from his father, and Killian ruffles Liam’s hair before the small boy rushes away, putting the hat on his head. Lily runs over to say goodbye to her father, and after he scoops her up in his arms and plants a kiss on the crown of her head, she gives him a kiss on the cheek. Emma’s heart melts as she watches him interact with his daughter. “Have fun, princess,” he says sweetly and watches her run off to play with her friends. 

  “He can put out my fire with his big hose anytime,” one lady snickers, apparently reading Emma’s thoughts. 

  When Killian turns around, his eyes find Emma’s from across the lawn. And she can't breathe or even move her head to look away. Nor does she want to. 

  “Emma, come here,” Mary Margaret waves her over, and Emma reluctantly complies.

  She thought he looked good from afar, but boy, he looks so much better up close. His smoldering blue eyes and heartwarming smile as he regards her with intrigue take her breath away. 

  Now that she's much closer, she can see that the badge he wears is of a fireman emblem. 

  “Killian, this is Henry’s mother, Emma,” Mary Margaret introduces them.

  Just as he slips his hand in hers, she starts to shake it before realizing he has another idea in mind. 

  “Hello, love, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says in a deep, husky voice as he lifts her hand to his luscious looking lips and kisses the back of her hand, his eyes still locked with her bewildered ones. 

  Oh, the pleasure is all mine, Emma is tempted to say, but bites her tongue to stop herself. Besides, she doesn’t know if she could speak, even if she had something appropriate to say, because her mouth goes completely dry. She tries to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Apparently she forgot how to speak.

  This gorgeous firefighter is kissing her. Okay, he’s only kissing her hand but, holy hell Emma’s never been so turned on in her entire life, let alone from an innocent hand kiss. Then again, an innocent hand kiss has never seared her skin.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” Emma rasps, somehow finding the words on her tongue.

  “Emma thought I hired you as a stripper,” Mary Margaret chortles, breaking their trance.

  Oh, God.  

  Emma peels her eyes away from the ridiculously handsome fireman to glare at her sister-in-law. Really, Mary Margaret?!

  Killian’s eyes are glinting with amusement as he finally removes his damn, surprisingly soft lips from her skin, a big grin spreading across his face. “Is that so?” 

  She hasn’t failed to notice he’s still holding her hand. Not that she’s complaining. His hand is so warm and strong and she’s dreaming up all the things he could do to her with that hand. With both hands.

  “Yes. Can you believe she thought I would hire a stripper at a children’s party?” she asks her husband.

  David shrugs. “You are best friends with Ruby.”

  That earns him a playful swat on the arm.

  “It was a joke,” Emma states defensively and offers Killian an apologetic smile, bashfully moving her eyes away. “Sorry.”

  He finally releases her hand to wave off her words, and she shivers from the loss, even under the blazing heat of the sun. “Please, don’t be. I’ve been called worse.” He leans in until he’s so close she can feel his breath on her skin as he murmurs in her ear. “Though if you wanted a lap dance, all you had to do was ask.”

  Emma’s breath hitches, her cheeks flushed with red. She doesn’t even know how to respond to that. “I’ll um... I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She looks over at Henry, trying to ignore how fast her heart is beating. When she sees Lily chasing him around the yard, both of them giggling cheerfully, she laughs. 

  Killian turns around to see what Emma’s laughing at. “Looks like my daughter has a crush,” he chuckles.

  “I think it’s mutual… well according to Mary Margaret.” Lily’s not the only person in this backyard with a crush. Definitely not. She turns to face Killian again. “I’m sorry again for the stripper joke.”

  He scratches behind his ear, his cheeks tinged with blush. “Like I said. I’ve been called worse. But if you feel the need to make it up to me, I wouldn’t argue,” he says, a slight smile tugging at his lips. 

  Emma crosses her arms over her chest and arches a brow, “And what would you suggest?”

  “You could go out to dinner with me?”

  Emma studies him for a moment, considering his proposition. It’s not like she’s opposed to having dinner with him, but she has other ideas in mind as to how she could make it up to him. Ones that involve a bedroom and maybe that lap dance he spoke of. She quickly shakes her thoughts away. “I suppose asking you to stay and offering you a hamburger and hotdog doesn’t count as dinner, does it?”

  He smiles. “It’s a start.”

  She sighs dramatically and shrugs. “And here I was hoping you’d say no. Oh, well.” She walks away from him and goes to the grill where David and Robin are plating the meat. 

  After helping her son get a plate of food, she gets a hamburger for herself and goes to the food table for a bun and condiments. She scoops some pasta salad and chips on her plate before joining the adults at the picnic table while Henry sits with the other children at the kiddy table. When Killian sits next to her, she's surprised he hasn’t brought a plate of food with him. He’d only helped his daughter fill her plate.

  “Not hungry?” Emma asks suspiciously.

  He leans in and murmurs, “I changed my mind. I’d rather take you out to dinner.”

  Damn her cheeks for warming with blush again as she gives into a slight smile. She scoots her plate in Killian’s direction. “Here, take this.” She gets up from her seat to make another plate so he can have hers. 

  “So does this mean I can’t take you out?” he asks, his eyes clouded with disappointment as he looks up at her. 

  “Oh, you can still take me out to dinner.” She leans in and whispers in his ear so no one else can hear, “But this way, you owe me a lap dance.” She walks away with a smirk on her face, knowing she left him just as flustered as she is right now.

[saynventeen]

My Take on TROS ending

Relationship : Kylo Ren x Rey

Inspired by : pride and prejudice

Just a Small Fanfic :D

Plus MY FanArt included at the end.

----

The war ended between The First Order and The Resistance.

The Resistance have won, the programmed storm troopers were rewired and sent home to start their life and where the left off, some stayed and became loyal to the republic.

General Hux is to be tried for Genocide and will be sentence to death along with the top commanders of the order.

and

The Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren, is dead.

-- AFTER EIGHT MONTHS --

Poe Dameron , the newly appointed general of the Resistance ask Rey to stay behind and guide the future of the Resistance. Rey hesitantly decline, Shaking Poe’s outstretched hand while muttering a silent “ sorry , boss “. Poe smirks at her remark, turns to leave towards the command bay, he fastened his pace when he saw C3PO coming his way.

she turns her eyes towards Finn and Rose, the couple happy to have survive the war together. Rey saw Rose’s hands caress her abdomen lovingly.

She steps forward towards the odd soon to be parents, Finn was already ready for her bear hug.

“ Rey, are you sure you can’t stay ? “

She breathed heavily, exhaling her last doubts within his protective shoulders.

Rose strokes her back, smiling sadly at her. They all wanted her to stay, Even Chewbacca was reluctant of letting her go this time.

“ I can’t stay Finn, I have to go back “

Finn shakes his head “ Peanut, there’s no one to go back to there, in Jakku. Just please , Stay. Stay with us, we’re family, aren’t we?  “ Finn squeezes her hand as she lets go of the hug. Rose nods her head, sending her a heart warming smile. ‘ she’s going to be a good mother ‘ Rey thought.

“ I’ll visit, I promise! “

Finn shakes his head, after their escape in Crait, Rey wasn’t the same. She became distant and closed. It wasn’t until two months before the great war when she confessed that she was conversing with Kylo Ren, She said he warned her about the first order’s up coming attack. That there was a dispute inside the order, the commands were divided, Him and Hux. Poe was skeptical but still took the warning to heart.

After her revelation, Finn saw her peanut change. She became determined and she smiled more often than not. He knew, this force between Her and Kylo Ren was bringing her life, a fact he wasn’t too comfortable with.  

two days after the first initial attack, Kylo Ren showed himself to the four of them. It was a secret Rey planned ahead. In truth, they didn’t sit well with the fact that former Supreme Leader is now forming strategies while helping Rey train her Jedi Powers. Kylo rarely speaks to them, but they acknowledge him, both Poe and him a little too hesitant and protective towards Rey and her forming camaraderie with the dark user.

Then suddenly the great war started.

the resistance were prepared thanks to their source, namely the former supreme leader.

The war lasted for a week, Both fleets were exhausted and losing armies by the minute.The Resistance was almost at the end of their limit when something unexpected shocked everyone, even Rey.

She was manning the low ground with the falcon too busy to noticed what was happening, but in seconds she felt him. Like a soft caress against her cheek, she knew the forced kissed her then.

They are losing the battle, she knew as she blew multiple tie fighter with the ships blaster.  Just then a myriad of feeling suddenly blew right pass her.  Her heart started to drop, her focus nowhere. it was like all the air sucked out of her in mere seconds and she wasn’t prepared. She clutched heart, then she felt it.

Looking up, she saw a black fighter heading towards the First order, She felt the force forcing everything up.

it was the last thing she remember.

what won the Resistance their unexpected victory was another suicide mission.

Finn was in the med bay , rushing towards every curtain opening it till he saw brown hair and green eyes. by the last row, suddenly he saw Chewie and Poe discussing outside the section, a resistance medical aid suddenly spur from inside the curtain.

“ Finn, Buddy , you’re okay! “ His greeting was halted when Finn suddenly latched his arms in a death grip “ Where’s Rey ? “

Chewie nods his head sideways, He turns towards the curtain, opening it with haste.

There he saw Rey in a sitting fatal position, her hair was a mess but it didn’t compare to the atmosphere that formed towards her.  She was silently sobbing, blood stains against her skin forgotten.

He knew she was mourning, mourning the unsung hero of the Resistance.  

“ Finn! FINN! “

He felt someone shake him awake, Rey gave him a confused look

“ Jannah’s already here, We’re leaving now “  

“   Oh ... “ He sounded dumbfounded for a second, he shakes his thought and gave Rey another bear hug, Rose joined in.

“  Come back, when you’re ready, okay? “ Rose told her before she joined Jannah towards the unloading dock.

She let her eyes soared towards the rebuilding resistance base before finally the door of the ship shut.

------

“ Are you sure about this? “ Jannah’s tone lined with skepticism, she looks  to Rey with her peripheral.

“  Yeah, never been “

Jannah heard her words full of confidence and hope, she haven’t heard it since before the war. When Rey told her she wanted to leave the Resistance to find her place, She told her she was nuts. She was the champion of the rebellion, a legend in the galaxy, that she is where she is already.  

“ No, I’m not where I should be, Jannah. I’m not a legend, Luke is. I’m not the champion, Kylo Ren is. I’m just a force user looking for her place in another story “

That was the first time she saw her as Rey again, She didn’t hesitate to help her.

Jannah saw Rey punched in some coordinates at her side , she never knew her eyes could grow twice as much as it already is

“ What the hell Rey!? That’s an uncharted system, Are you sure about this? “

She almost punched the stop buttoned when she saw her smile, a smile full of hope and belonging.

She sighed. “ Fine if its where you want me to drop you off , namely Nowhere , sure, whatever “ She threw her hands in the air. Over a minute after she smiled at Rey and punched the button for light speed.

----

Jannah in all her years, never knew such a beautiful place as this. Her hands softly grazes the tall weeds of grass, a smell of bliss and spring erupted her senses. A vast land of tall trees and mountain painted in the horizon.

at her side she saw Rey with her bag of belongings.

“ Thank you, Jannah “

If she could tell, Rey felt a little giddy and excited. Like she was reborn as she first landed her foot on the ground of this new found world.

She looked beautiful, Her face was without war but with hope.

“ I’ll be seeing you around, just beep me whenever you feel you need to get out of here, okay? “ She smiled at him. Unexpectedly, Rey jumped on her, pouring all her thank you’s with her hug. Jannah could feel a tear forming in her eyes, she was happy Rey mirrored her emotions too.

just then a rustle of grass caressed her ears. Birds singing in the sky as the two sun finally aroused from the horizon. A flash of Orange and yellow broke the nightfall, a fog bringing a slight chill where the dandelions sit made the flowers sway as if dancing to a love song.

Hey eyes landed on a soft shadow becoming pronounce as the streams of light landed on her ship, blinding her.

Another rustle of grass erupted her, she felt her grounding shake a bit, like a force forcing from the sea towards the land to help the mountain reach the heavens.

Rey,in all her glory rushed towards the now pronounced shadow. Her eyes glowed in awe. She felt the tears finally running down her cheeks. She clutched her heart, she felt it, the harmony encompassing the vast space where she stands is now becoming one. The feeling when the sea finally touched the shore and the mountain kissed the sky.

A wave of happiness rushed towards her as she saw Rey reaching the figure clad in robe met her halfway, hugging her desperately as if death is among them.

It was like a painting she once saw, or a play she once witness in Canto Bight, where the story of the beautiful princess and her love finally comes to an end.  

The two figure looks back at her, she saw Rey waving her hand at her, she returned the gesture. She felt the man’s force touched her, as if saying thank you for the trouble of bringing him his lost princess.

She smiled at them before climbing back towards her ship to go back to her home, where she would tell the story of a star-crossed love between two people who wasn’t supposed to be, a child of light and a child darkness, and how it united the galaxy and brought balance to the world they know.

The resistance were right, Kylo Ren is dead.

But Ben Solo is reborn.

Rey of Nowhere was right, She has no place in that story,

so now

she’s making her own.

- fin -

Just a little something inspired by the scene in P&P , forgot to add my mark on the side.

Please don't steal, reblog and love is welcome as always :)

[harrystyltistical]

Pretend  0.1

Word count:1.3k

Summary: First chapter in a series, you’re starring in a movie alongside Harry styles and tonight is the premier.

A/N: thank you for being patient and hi to everyone that’s new! I’ll be updating more often, just wasn’t inspired. The next thing you see from me is probably going to be a smut piece so be prepared for that, you’ll have it by the end of the month tops. Dont forgot to like and reblog if you enjoyed!

My red dress sparkled in the flashing lights from the cameras that are riddled across the length of the carpet, looking toward the photographers shouting my name as a faux smile danced on my lips. I let my eyes roam, glancing through the crowd of faces as I took a few strides forward, my eyes eventually landing on my Co-stars that stood beside me and their smiling faces.

In this moment, I feel invincible, the highlight on my cheeks competing with my smile for brightest thing on my face, my curls bouncing as I took a few more steps forward. My best friend and Co-star, Brooke, walked next to me as an interviewer was fast approaching, a microphone on hand and a cameraman close behind. She whispered a quick compliment in my ear before shifting her full attention to the interviewer in front of us, who was now holding a mic up to our mouths.

“Hello you two! You both look stunning tonight, but besides that how excited are you for Pretend to finally be in theaters?”

“Oh, well first, thank you so much you look very gorgeous yourself, and second we’re so thrilled! Aren’t we, Rin?” Brooke says from beside me, turning for my approval as I gave her an an enthusiastic nod.

“So excited! We know you guys will love Pretend as much as we do. We all worked so, so hard on it and… Just, it’s my baby and I can’t wait for everyone to see it.” I say, containing my passion more than a little as I speak into the mic, keeping eye contact with the interviewer as I did.

“I know everyone’s gonna love it, you can’t fail when you have the iconic duo of Brooke and Rin. I’m so excited to see you two in action, I can’t wait!” The interviewer replies, doing quick steps as she expressed her excitement.

“I can’t wait either, we’ll see you in there.” Brooke adds, walking us down the remaining length of the carpet and into the backstage area, making her way to our seats and tugging me along with.

Once again my eyes wandered, bouncing from person to person as we made our way down the aisle. I let my heart go wild with excitement as I noticed some of my favorite actors and actresses had showed up to the premier, conversing among themselves as they waited for the movie to be shown on the big screen. As we walked my eyes landed on one of my Co-stars. One I had avoided for the majority of filming. Every time I was around him I embarrassed myself, I recall I’d even spilled hot coffee on him during a late night of filming.

I sipped desperately at my mug of coffee, the hot liquid burning my tongue and throat as I swallowed the big gulp in a rush, sticking my tongue out as if the air would repair my burnt taste buds. I spun to get a glass of water, feeling an impact as I did, scorching hot coffee running down my arm, spilling out of my cup and onto the person I collided with. I looked up, apologizing frantically as I grabbed a few tissues to clean us both up.

“It’s okay, you’re good.” I didn’t have to wait for eyes to meet to know it was Harry, wincing as I saw the huge stain it made on the clothes he was wearing. Not only had I just spilled burning hot coffee on Harry, I’d ruined his costume for the scene we were shooting. On the bright side, however, burning myself with coffee (twice) really did the trick when it came to waking me up.

I shook my head and took a deep breath as I recalled the awful moment, even now I had to catch myself from slipping down the many sets of stairs below me when my heel caught on air, recovering swiftly and elegantly before walking along the rows of seats and taking one between Brooke and my love interest in the movie, Joey.

A few minutes later the director came onstage, walking up to the mic and saying a quick speech before the lights dimmed and the screen came to life. The movie was just as I’d imagined it, a beautiful mix of laughter and tears, and everyone seemed to love it, but honestly even if it was booed at I wouldn’t have cared. This was my proudest piece of work, and I was so proud to be so closely involved with every part of it that what everyone else thought was just validation to what I already knew, that it was perfect.

The after party was next, people walking up to I and the director, Ellie, to congratulate us on our masterpiece. If Brooke and I are close, Ellie and I are crammed, we’d known each other years before our fame and held each other up for years after and had no idea what I would do without my right-hand woman. We created separately for a while; Me, starring in my own shows and her, creating her own movies, but it wasn’t until now that we decided to collaborate our talents and create Pretend.

“How’s your night been so far?” I ask, making a lipstick print on my glass as I took a sip of my water, swishing it around with a flick of my wrist as I waited for a response.

“It’s been so good, I can’t believe we’re finally done with filming. I had so much fun it was a dream. I love you so much, come here.” Ellie says, her soft drunk side showing itself as she wrapped her arms tightly around me, careful not to spill her martini. When we pulled away my eyes scanned the room for Brooke, trying my best to make sure she didn’t get herself in any trouble tonight, but instead finding Harry’s. My heart rate sped up as his eyes met mine, saying a quick goodbye to whoever he was talking to before making his way over to me. I tried to play it off like I hadn’t seen him, going to walk away but instead bumping into Joey, causing him to spill his drink on me, pausing as the cold liquid made its way down the bridge of my breasts and spread its way across the top of my beautiful dress.

I hoped that the moment was embarrassing enough for Harry to walk away and pretend he hadn’t seen me, but he made his way over anyway with a hand full of paper towels and handed them to me so I could dry myself, shooing away the few lingering stares I had earned myself. Ellie was in my peripheral vision, laughing in the corner, knowing I always slipped up on something when Harry was around, but I tried my best to ignore her as my cheeks went redder than the dress I was wearing.

“Why do we keep meeting like this?” Harry says, letting out a little laugh as he ripped off another section of paper towel and handed it to me. The words caught in my throat as I shook my head and gave him a subtle shrug, patting down the top of my dress and avoiding eye contact.

“I—honestly, I have no idea.” I say, laughing quietly at myself.

“Maybe we should try again sometime?,” I paused, making eye contact with him and wondering if he meant what I thought he did “Do you like ice cream?” Yeah, he meant it like that, my heart speeding up in my chest as I thought about what to respond.

Harry’s eyes watched mine expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Rin, let’s go! We—why are you wet? Never mind, just hurry, we have to get you changed and ready for your flight.” My manager says, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me away.

[spn-rewrites]

01x12 (part 3)

Season One Episode Twelve: Faith

A/N: my laptop is finally fixed!! whoohoo! updates to come quicker and I promise, i’ll be more active so come talk to me, leave me nice messages or constructive criticism or just come say hello. if you liked it, REBLOG and show your friends! please! love u xoxo

Summary: where a life is saved, another is swapped and soda is never retrieved

Word Count: 3.2k

“I’m telling you, Dean! It didn’t work! Ron must not be the one controlling this thing!” You yelled into the phone as the protestor groaned on the ground in a fetal position, clearly in pain from the reaper. You saw Sam debating with himself whether or not he wanted to go help or stay back and not get in the way because what the hell was this thing.

“Well, then, who the hell is?” Dean asked in the phone, his panic not as clear as yours. You were breathing heavily, barely able to sit still and you were sweating.  “Sue Ann,” Dean said quickly and then he hung up the phone. You starred at the screen that was flashing the word END and then looked to Sam.

“He said Sue Ann,” he told him, handing him the phone back. Sam furrowed his brows at you and took it, shoving it his pocket.

“The wife?” He clarified. You nodded and he looked back down at the protestor. He was groaning still, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. “We’ve gotta help him,” he said, shaking his head and going back to the urgentness of the situation. “I’ll go find Dean, you stay here!” He ordered, his hand grazing your bicep as he tried to take off towards the church tent.

You grabbed his hand before the contact was lost, “wait,” you said. The protestor’s body loosened up, the tense muscles from before were now relaxing and his eyes had stopped rolling in the back. “I think he might be stopping,” you whispered. He was coughing and letting out gasps, trying to catch his breath as a tear rolled down his cheek. He could barely get up he was so weak.

Sam kneeled down next to him and grabbed his hand, helping him stand up. The man was so unstable, he leaned into Sam’s body, almost making Sam himself fall over. “I got ya,” he whispered as he steadied the man. Thankfully, you were protected by a bunch of cars so none of the church-goers saw the scene that had unfolded but now that the Reaper was gone, you had ventured out and saw Dean in the arms of police officers. You heard Sam mumbling to the guy, a thank you is given and then Sam showed up at your side alone.

“Sam,” you mumbled urgently, nodding towards Dean and Sue Ann. He looked at Dean, his hands being held behind his back by the officers and Sue Ann, standing in front of him. You couldn’t see her face, but Dean’s was hard and stern. His arms dropped to his side and he shook them out.

“Let's go wait at the car, it looks like she’s letting him go.” Sam grabbed your hand and he took you to the Impala to wait for Dean. All the people that were once inside the church were now all huddled together talking amongst themselves. Dean was stopped one more time by Layla and you sat against the hood of the car, watching as Roy talked to Layla’s mom, promising a private session to heal her. When Dean finally showed up, he didn’t talk. He got inside the car, slammed the door shut and drove back to the hotel.

He explained the entire thing on the way to the hotel and the three of you exchanged stories about what happened but Dean’s was far more interesting and when you were back at the hotel, it was time to brainstorm what to do next.

You laid on the bed, Sam’s jacket covering your arms and torso and your toes barely touching his lower back as he sat on the edge of the bed. It was cold in the room because of how rainy and gross it was outside and you never did like hotel blankets. Dean paced back and forth, looking out the window every three seconds probably for those officers. “So Roy believes it?” Sam asked, bouncing his leg up and down.

“I don’t think he has any idea what his wife’s doing,” Dean agreed, shutting the curtains to the hotel room and turning to face the two of you. You were shocked, to say the least, to find out that it was Sue Ann the entire time.

“Oh! We found this hidden in their library,” Sam said like he almost forgot and he pulled out the weird spellbook from his pocket. The sight of it gave you chills up and down your arms. “Well, Y/N actually found it. It was like she was drawn to it or something,” Sam told his brother. Dean looked over at you curiously and you just shrugged lightly and looked away. It wasn’t something that you quite understood and you’d rather keep it to yourself. Dean sat on the second bed, right next to Sam. “It’s ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There’s a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper,” Sam explained, handing Dean the book.

“Must be a hell of a spell,” Dean commented, taking the book in his hands to look at the spell. It was all scribbles and pictures from what you remembered but you opted to not look at it again.

“You’ve got to build a black alter with seriously dark stuff - bones, human blood,” Sam explained just how intense this spell was and what exactly it entailed so Dean got the full picture of exactly what Sue Ann had done to gain this power. Sam sighed as if he was letting all those bad images leave. “To cross a line like that, that preacher’s wife - black magic. Murder. Evil.”

“Desperate,” Dean said, cutting off his brother. “Her husband was dying. She’d done anything to save him,” he explained, almost trying to justify her actions but you thought that Dean would relate to that more than anyone. “She was using the spell to keep the reaper away from Roy.”

“Cheating death,” you mumbled. The boys looked at you, a small smirk on Sam’s face.

“Literally,” he scoffed.

“But Roy is alive, so why is she still using the spell?” Dean asked, bringing you back to the real topic on hand. The real question. She just wanted power was your guess but you let the boys talk it out among themselves.

“To force the reaper to kill people she feels are immoral,” Sam answered. It seemed so far fetched. But then again, when people get an inch they take a mile and maybe she was desperate like Dean said or maybe she wanted to play God so badly that she was willing to dig up dead bones.

“We’ve got to break that binding spell,” you said. That was the only option. You couldn’t let people keep dying no matter how justified she might have been in the first place. There was no reason for it now. You almost felt your own sense of guilt for wanting it to end. You got what you wanted and now it was game over. You wondered if you’d let Roy heal Dean if you knew beforehand.

“You know, Sue Ann had a Coptic cross just like this. When she dropped it, the reaper backed off.” Dean’s finger pointed and then traced the photo of the cross in the book. You had never seen her wear it but it was the same cross they had mounted in the church.

“So you think we’ve got to destroy the cross or the altar?” You asked, sitting up now. The jacket fell around your waist but you picked it back up. You wanted Sam’s smell to completely engulf you for as long as you could have it for.

“Maybe both,” Dean said. The boys exchanged a look that you didn’t quite catch but they were silent and then Dean snapped the book shut and stood up. “Whatever we’re doing, we gotta do it soon. You heard Roy, he’s healing Layla tonight.”

+

There were cars parked outside of the church just like a regular sermon but it was dark outside and it wasn’t a regular sermon and Layla wouldn’t be healed. “Layla’s already here,” Dean said, turning off the Impala and leaning back in his seat. “There’s her car,” he nodded towards one of the cars parked and you wondered how he knew that but you let it slide.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding. You pulled yourself up so your head was between the boys and Dean glanced back at you and it was like you knew exactly what he was going to say. “Dean,” you warned but he didn’t care.

“You know if Roy would have picked Layla instead of me, she’d been healed by now,” he said, looking at his steering wheel and not at you or Sam. He tapped his finger on the bottom of the wheel like a nervous tick.

“Yeah, that is how that works,” you said, trying to make a joke out of it when it really wasn’t funny but the tension was too thick. The joke didn’t land which you expected and Dean just kept going.

“And if she’s not healed tonight, she’s gonna die in a couple months,” he continued, not listening or caring about your joke.

“Listen, what’s happening to her is horrible but what are you gonna do? Let someone die in order to save her?” Sam asked, trying to knock reason into Dean’s head. He was hesitating in hopes that he would be too late but he would never admit that nor make it obvious. It was to you and Sam. “You said it yourself Dean, you can’t play God.”

There was no answer as Dean got out of the car and you and Sam quickly followed and up to the tent. There was a faint light coming from it and you peeked your head inside, Layla was standing at the altar with Roy and everyone was smiling wide, excited for her. “Where’s Sue Ann?” You asked.

“The house,” Sam suggested and nodded towards the house you already broke into once and you all started towards it to end this as quickly as possible.

“You go find Sue Ann, I’ll catch up,” Dean said, starting to go off in a different direction. You started to ask where he was going but your eyes followed his to the officers that had previously had him all tied up and there Dean was, self-destructing. “Hey! You gonna put the fear of God in me?” He asked, holding his arms open. The officers took off after Dean and he took off running away from them. Making a clear distracting for you and Sam but your heart skipped a beat in worry for him.

You bottled it up as you and Sam snuck up to the porch, looking for an entrance. You checked the window you had used earlier that day, hoping that maybe you could see her but all the lights in the house were off. “Where is she?” He asked, turning himself in all directions.

You looked around the yard, your hands on the porch rail when a strip of light caught your eye. “There.” You pointed below you to the cellar doors, where light illuminated the small crack. Sam smiled at you for your sharp eye and you ran down the porch steps to the door and Sam pried them open. He let you go down first and then he followed, closing them behind him. It was easier than you had expected to get into and you’d think that if she was doing an evil spell she would protect herself a little bit more.

The room was quiet and dark and there was no sign of her or anything anywhere but when you rounded a corner, an altar was displayed with human blood staining the old wooden dresser it was on and eyeballs, like they had been ripped from a skull on display and a photo. Of Dean. Sam picked it up, a bloody X over his brother’s face. “No,” you breathed, shaking your head. In all honesty, it was more gruesome than you’d imagined.

“I gave your brother life and I can take it away,” Sue Ann said from behind you. The two of you whipped around to see her unfazed and unembarrassedd by what you found. Like she was proud of what she was doing. Like she had a gift. Like she was powerful. Sam threw the photo on the ground, smashing the glass and he tipped over the entire alter, candles going out and the wooden stakes being broken.

“Go,” he yelled to you and you ran to the exit and after Sue Ann, who took off as soon as the table was lifted from the ground but you were too late and she shut the cellar doors with you two in it.

“Can’t you see? The Lord chose me! To reward the just and punish the wicked,” she yelled from outside the cellar. Sam and you pushed against it as hard as you could but it wasn’t budging. “And your brother is wicked and he deserves to die, just as Layla deserves to live,” she said.

“I swear to god I’ll kill this bitch!” You said through gritted teeth as you slammed your body as hard as you could against the doors but it was really no use and you knew that.

“Ok, here,” Sam whispered as he stopped pushing, taking your hand and running across the basement cellar. “There’s gotta be a soft spot in here somewhere.” He took a broken piece of wood off the ground and started to bang against the wood walls that kept the whole thing together until he hit the soft spot he was talking about and the wooden wall busted open, revealing light.

“Go,” he mumbled, pushing you out first and following closely behind you. You snuck your way around the cars, checking behind all of them for Sue Ann until you found her, standing outside the church. “You wanna?” Sam asked, smirking at you. You run up behind her, Sam following closely and snatched the cross out of her hands, smashing it on the ground. It shattered, blood spraying the rocks that it landed on.

Sue Ann gasped, dropping to her knees with shaking hands. She wanted to pick it up and put it back together again. “What have you done?” She cried, breathing heavily.

“He’s not your God,” Sam spat at her. Sue Ann stood up and at the edge of the property, way in the distance, you saw him for the first time. The Reaper. He was old, wrinkly. Pale white with a suit on. Just as Dean described him. Sue Ann tried to run but the reaper was faster and he put his hand on her head and within seconds, as you watch, she was on the ground and lifeless.

You walked away, leaving her body there and part of you felt the guilt for her death but then you reminded yourself that this what the only option and so you kept going to the Impala. You saw Dean first, leaning against the Impala and groaning in pain but you didn’t care as you ran up to him and hugged him. He groaned at the impact but hugged you back and chuckled a little bit. “You okay?” Sam asked. You pulled away and Dean opened the door to the car.

“Hell of a week,” Dean commented and you all three agreed as you got into the car and drove back to the hotel in silence. You knew Dean was doubting himself. You knew that he would probably would have let himself die if that meant Layla could live just because of how guilty he felt for being alive.

“We did the right thing, right?” He asked you as you packed up your things. Sam was in the bathroom so he was being quiet and you stopped folding your shirt and looked over at him.

“Of course we did,” you reassued him.

“Didn’t feel like it,” he admitted, twirling the shirt in his hands around. There was a knock on the door and you turned around to get it but Sam bolted out of the bathroom, the door hitting the wall and offering to grab it. It was like he was waiting for it.

“I got it, got it, got it,” he mumbled, out of breath by the time his hand hit the knob.

When he opened the door, Layla stepped inside and Dean’s face lit up and you hadn’t seem them interact that close to you before but now that you had you realized that it wasn’t really about the guilt. It was just about her. “How did you know we were here?” Dean asked.

“Sam called,” she said, smiling and nodded towards Sam. You looked at your own boy, a smug smile on his face as he winked at you. “He said you wanted to say goodbye,” she said.

“We’re gonna go get a soda!” Sam announced, grabbing your hand quickly and pulling you out of the hotel room and letting the door swing shut behind him. Once it was closed to looked at him and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’re such a sneak, you know that, right?” You asked as you shook your head. Sam laughed and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, spinning you around and pulling you into his side.

“He would have beat himself up for a long time if he didn’t say goodbye,” Sam said as you walked down the hallway of the hotel. You knew he was right and sometimes, because of how long you went without him, you forgot that Sam knew Dean just as well as you did. Maybe even better than you did. You walked a few feet in silence, just enjoying the way he smelled and how his hand was rubbing your shoulder slightly and the way his hip hit yours. “Y/N?” Sam spun you around so you were in front of him, face to face.

“Yes?” You asked. He entwined his fingers in yours, looking down at them and then up at you. His eyes were soft and nervous.

“Do you want to talk about how you knew that book was there? In the house?” He asked. You didn’t really but you thought you should. At least to Sam. You let out a sigh and shrugged your shoulders, holding his hand close to your chest.

“There’s not much to say. I don’t know what it was. Just a feeling that washed over me,” you tried to explain. Sam nodded and he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You hugged him back and buried your head in his chest. “I’m happy with you.”

“I’m happy with you, too,” he responded, pulling back. He was towering over you but he beant his head down and it was almost as close as it was in that hotel room bed and you felt his breathing tickling your lips.

“Can you kiss me now?” You asked, a small smile on your lips. You didn’t want to get your hopes up but your heart fluttered at his smile and his laugh made your blood warm and he nodded and kissed you for the first time, his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips warm and chapped against yours.

It felt exactly how you thought that it would feel. Like it was meant to me and perfect and your lips and hands and bodies were made for each other.

tagged:  @matchamendes @stuckupstucky @sillydecoy @kaelyn-lobrutto24@liztorr1212 @icanreadbookstoo  @rachael-mae @jessewa26

[randomnessunicorn-imagine]

♦️ with Garak? Maybe at a party?

{I had a lot of fun writing it!

I’mproud of this piece and I hope you could appreciate~

Don’t forget to like or reblog if you like my writing, that would make me so glad!}

ASK FOR PROMPTS  

– Prompt: ♦  Slow dancing

🦎 ELIMGARAK 🦎

TheBajoran Gratitude Festival was coming and you were very excited.

This was your first festival and, even if you werenot a Bajoran, you were very curious and enthusiastic about it. You were veryinterested in other races’ festivities and therefore you wanted to takeadvantage of this opportunity to learn more about the Bajoran culture.

The most absurd and strange thing -many would sayit was also the most ironic thing- was that you had not asked to a real Bajoranto accompany you in this particular event. In fact, you had asked to anotherperson to be your “date”. To a person who was anything but a Bajoran, the leastsuitable and coherent person to participate in the festival, namely Garak: theplain and simple Garak. You asked to a Cardassian to take part in the Bajoranfestival.

Perhapsthis was not a brilliant or reasonable idea but you supposed it was fair.

You thought that the hostility between the two raceswould never have ceased if they had not become used to each other’s presence. TheBajoran had to learn to see Garak as their plain and simple friend and not asan impostor or enemy and even Garak had to stop feeling anxiety, fear or angertowards them.

“My dear Y/N, do you think that my presence at the BajoranGratitude Festival is reallynecessary?“ Garak asked in a distracted tone of voice while he was patchingup a pair of trousers.

“Your presence is always necessary, Garak.” A sly smile appeared on his face whenyou said that his presence was essential, he felt flattered.

However, you did not notice his expression and youkept talking, “They have to get used to your company and understand thatyou don’t want to hurt them. You know, you’re like an antibiotic and with time they’llovercome their fear of Cardassians, they just need to see that you’re notdangerous, you’re funny and friendly, so you must come.” You explained ina serious tone of voice as if you had taken it as a mission.

“An antibiotic?” he asked perplexed and he surely didnot want to be a hero or the one who would bring peace between the two contenders.He still had his own problems and could not think about Bajor’s problems, too.

“Yes, that goes for you as well, because you alsohave to overcome your anxieties towards them. Do you know how? By helping eachother!” You said enthusiastically, you really believed your words andGarak did not want to break your dreams. He was not as optimistic or hopeful asyou were and he did not think it was so easy to win Bajoran’s trust especiallywhen you were a Cardassian.

“Then I will be the life of the party. The nicestand gentlest Cardassian they’ve ever met.” Garak said sarcastically, grinning. Thenhe kept sewing those trousers, still reflecting on your naivety. A very absurd naivety,tender but stupid or perhaps just childish. He could not define it.

Sometimes, Garak did not understand you, maybe spendingall that time with Julian made you as hopeful and optimistic as he was andGarak did not know if he had to worry or find this fact just hilarious andlaugh about it. Alternatively, maybe this was just an excuse to invite him to adate, his Cardassian brain, so mischievous and sneaky, had thought that thiswas just a well-designed excuse to invite him without really admitting it.Garak knew that you really cared about the situation of Bajor and you were not asneaky person so his suspicious nature was tricking him.

“And thenyou don’t have to worry, you won’t be alone, Julian and I will be there, so youhave nothing to fear.” You spoke reassuringly, you were not able to hidethe sarcasm in your voice and he also was unable to keep it as secret.

“You are my knight in shining armour, Y/N. Imight consider the option of coming, but on one condition.” Garak asked andshowed his usual amused and cunning, indecipherable smile.

“Which condition?” You asked, raising aneyebrow.

“My dear, Y/N.” he got up from his workbench,“Let me make your suit. It is not proper to show up in uniform in asimilar occasion, it would be a real shame.” He proposed and you did notexpect this kind of condition but it made sense in its absurdity.

Every now and then, you wondered if he really took hisjob as a tailor seriously or if he was a very good actor, maybe he pretended tolove his job, or maybe he was just a joker. You found the offer interestinganyway.

“Well, actually, I don’t have any party dress.You know? When I joined the Starfleet, I never imagined I had to attend acultural party of this kind.” You said and you usually wore your elegantuniform in these situations and so it was a total new experience for you.

“Even I would’ve never imagined that I had tomake dresses for these peasant celebrations. For Bajoran peasant celebrations,moreover.” Garak smiled sarcastically thinking that life was truly alunatic and ironic harlot.

“Yes, it’s quite weird but I bet it will befabulous. Thanks Garak, I’m really happy to go with you.” You said, smilingtenderly.

He also was glad to go with you but he did not exposethis truth and he only nodded, showing one of his usual playful and curious smiles,before getting back to his usual and less curious job.

The day of the festival came and you still couldnot imagine that you would go with Garak.

Kira and O'Brien defined yourchoice to date him as inappropriate and dangerous, they were worried about youand that Garak could deceive you or hurt you but you reassured them thateverything was going well and they had no reason to be anxious. A similar attitude would never bring peace, so you thought thatinviting Garak was the right and proper thing to do, this was a small step towardpeace but it could become something greater in the future.

The party would start within three hours and you stillhad to get dress and ready. You spent all your timehelping, arranging the decorations and cleaning up that you forgot that you hadto participate at this party and that you had to prepare yourself as well. Thenyou ran into your quarters because you had no more time to waste.

In front of your door was standing an irritated andimpatient Cardassian and as soon as he saw you, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“I thought they had kidnapped you, I couldn’tfind you anywhere. Have you forgotten your communicator eventhis time?” Garak asked, hiding his irritated tone.

Then you pressed your chest, where your communicatorshould have been, and nothing was there.

“Oh sorry. I forgot itagain. I was so busy with the preparations and I didn’t realizeI didn’t wear my communicator.” You sighed, cursing your own stupidity.

“Don’t worry your little pretty mind, it can happen. However,we don’t have much time, I’ve packed your dress and I want you to wear it.I would have liked if you would have worn it earlier but I alsowanted this to be a surprise.” Garak said in a hurried tone, maybe he was justimpatient to see you wearing the dress he made for you.

“Oh thank you a lot, Garak. I’mvery sorry for being late, you’re a sweetheart.” You said enthusiastically, andthen the two of you went into your quarters.

“I said that I would’ve been the kindest of theCardassians.” He said in a humble tone.

“Really? Butyou already are!” You said giggling and he smiled with contentment.

“Ah, you’re very kind, but now wear that dress, please.” He gaveyou the dress he folded with care. It was turquoise, such a noble colour,precious and soave; a bluish green you truly appreciated. Garak thought thatthis colour would match a lot with your eyes. You did not know how he knew thatamong all the colours, this was your favourite, you did not remember to have evertold him this information, you were surprised.

Later, you went to the bathroom to change and you were even more impressedby the beauty of the dress, now that you saw it in its entirety. It rested onyour body perfectly and it was made to measure. It was embroidered with blueand emerald scales, the fabric shone in the light like a jewel. It was simplebut complex in its beauty, it was also the way Garak perceived you. He saw youas a simple but also complex, modest and kind person who wanted to help others,a rare and priceless gem. Obviously, these words would never have come out of hisCardassian’s lips, even under torture.

Garak was proud of his job and he spent some minutes observing you, youfelt a little embarrassed but you had to admit, you just adored this dress andyou adored the Cardassian for having donated you such a wonderful gift and thehonour to accompany you at the festival.

“I think they’re waiting for us.” You said, smiling.

“Surely, they’re waiting for you but I doubt that they’re enthusiast to seeme, dear Y/N.” Garak said, pretending to feel offended.

“Don’t be silly, you’re still the life of the party and they’ll be positivelysurprised.” You answered, taking his hand and then the two of you headed to theparty.

Itwas truly a beautiful evening, everyone seemed happy, carefree and cheerful.

You had not even one moment left his hand as youadmired the decorated station, it seemed unrecognizable and you did not imaginethat a place like this could become so festive and lively.

“See?We made become the fierce and dark Cardassian space station a place forpartying and entertainment.” You said, giggling, as you walked with Garak acrossthe promenade.

“Youdid a good job, I’m impressed.” It was strange to see the station fromthis point of view but he had to admit that it was not so bad, it wasdifferent, maybe even Garak needed a bit of leisure for once and to forgetabout all his problems and preoccupations.

Meanwhile,the Bajoran band was playing some traditional Bajoran music and immediately youshook Garak’s hand, looking at him smiling and hopeful.

“CanI ask you to dance, my dear Garak?” You asked him, gallantly.

“Oh,do you want me to dance Bajoran music? Well, if it’s with you I think I couldeven participate in a Klingon ritual, dear.” Garak smiled, it was a friendlysmile, it was not sneaky or sarcastic as his previous smiles, since this onewas almost tender, sincere.

Garak accompanied you on the dance floor, placing ahand on your hip; his gesture was so delicate that you did not even perceive it.Then he held you close to him, looking into your glance andforgetting the world around him. You were lost in hisblue eyes and you felt like you were living a fairy-tale, a magical andenchanted experience.

You and Garak fluctuated on the notes of music,deprived of all worry, anxiety or prejudice, as if you were one with theuniverse, together and no longer alone.

Then you two kept on dancing even when the music hadceased, the band had left and the party was about to end but you were together,relaxed and inseparable.

[sage-nebula]

27, 26, 21, 13 (the generals), 10, 5, 4, 2, and 1 for Voltron? For The salty meme thing? (Also apologies if these were answered previously)

I’m just glad that you said what meme this was for, because this was long enough ago that I completely forgot, haha.

27.) Least shippable character?

Answered.

26.) Most shippable character?

I honestly have no idea. Maybe characters like Regris or Matt, since they have barely any personality and thus could be paired up with almost anyone if written well.

21.) What are your thoughts on crack ships?

They’re fine, and have been around in every fandom for the dawn of time. I strongly disapprove of anyone attacking anyone for whatever fictional ships they have no matter the reason, because as squicky as you might find someone else’s ships, that’s absolutely NO justification for sending death and/or rape threats, doxing, or otherwise harassing and engaging in nasty behavior. But that said, the idea of people doing this just because someone ships two characters who have never met before is especially ludicrous. It’s unacceptable in general, but when people come down on the ideas of someone writing an AU where two characters who didn’t meet in canon meet and fall in love, it’s pretty obvious that the only reason why they take issue is because this is “competition” for their ship, a concept which is especially asinine when you remember that fanworks have no bearing on canon, and as such ships can’t really be in competition anyway.

So my thoughts are: Everyone needs to stay in their own lanes. No one has to like every ship out there—god knows I have some NOTPs of my own—but that’s no excuse for harassing, attacking, threatening, and otherwise being nasty to others. Tumblr Savior and the block feature exist for a reason. What other people ship doesn’t affect me, and the same goes for everyone else.

13.) Unpopular opinion about the generals?

Acxa: While I personally only ship Acxa and Keith platonically and do not read or write romance into their relationship at all, I don’t think it would have been horrible or the end of the world had she and Keith ended up as endgame. I do think that more work should have gone into their relationship if that was to be the case, but I think that the vitriol and hatred that was spewed Acxa’s way for “getting in the way” of other potential relationship options for Keith was pretty gross and misogynistic. Acxa deserved better, full stop.

Narti: Literally the only reason why the majority of the fandom cared that she died was so that they could use her death as a reason to vilify and demonize Lotor. They never actually cared about her, and it makes me angry whenever I see her name leave any of their fingers. They don’t deserve to talk about her, tbqh.

Ezor: She’s as cruel as she is bubbly and energetic. She’s kind and loving toward those she likes, yes, but she was the one smirking when Lotor commanded Throk to be sent to rot with the ice worms, and she had no problem tossing helpless village leaders around and getting threatening when one of them disrespected Lotor. Ezor is genuinely outgoing, but she also purposefully allows people to underestimate her and let their guards down around her so she can make them pay for it later. In some ways this makes her crueler than even Zethrid.

Zethrid: According to galra beauty standards, Zethrid is widely considered the hottest and most attractive of the group. Additionally, while she has no qualms about smashing skulls and actually does like explosions and fighting, she’s also protective of those close to her and does her best to look out for them. She’s the most group-oriented member of the team.

10.) Most disliked arc? Why?

Seasons five and six. Season six in particular was so bad that it’s what caused me to drop the show. If I list out all the reasons why I hated these seasons we’ll be here all day, but suffice to say that season five did a good job of making me despise pretty much every member of Team Voltron (and the protagonist-centered morality of the show became unbearable), and season six pushed the idea that a child abuse survivor without a good parental figure will end up evil like their parents. As a child abuse survivor myself, I didn’t take kindly to that.

5.) Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

I never shipped them romantically, but I stopped being able to enjoy Keith and Shiro’s platonic, familial relationship due to all of the wank and nastiness in the fandom. It’s sad, because when I first started watching their familial relationship was my favorite relationship in the show, but between the Shiro stans who bashed Keith because they felt he only had value when he was an accessory to prop Shiro up, to the antis who used Shiro and Keith’s platonic relationship to further their romantic ship(s) of choice, it just got to the point where I couldn’t enjoy it anymore and no longer wanted anything to do with it. It’s sad, but what can you do.

Oh, and while I never shipped Keith/Lance, fandom antis made me go from neutral on that one to full on cringing whenever I see it. So there’s that, too.

4.) Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?

Romantic Keith/Shiro has always squicked me out, because I always saw Shiro as an older brother, promoted-to-parent figure for Keith, like Guy to Luke in Tales of the Abyss, or Nani to Lilo in Lilo and Stitch, et cetera. That was the vibe I always got from their relationship in canon as early as season two, and while I tried to see where the shippers were coming from in rewatches (I really, really tried), it just squicked me whenever I thought of them romantically because of how Shiro acted like a guardian figure for Keith. Given that season six confirmed that Shiro did in fact play a part in raising Keith and that Shiro and Keith met when Shiro was an adult and Keith was a foster orphan, I can at least say that my feelings were right on the money with that one. In any case, this is one of the fandom juggernaut ships and it’s a NOTP for me, so yeah.

That said, Keith/Lance is also a NOTP for me. Aside from never seeing any chemistry in canon because Lance would barely allow Keith to even be his teammate, much less his friend (much less his boyfriend), the fandom ruined it for me as mentioned before. It’s unfair to those who ship it without being nasty, I know, but Keith/Lance became the flagship for a group of people in fandom who behaved very nastily even to people who weren’t in the fandom at all. It’s the biggest ship in the fandom and I also can’t stand it, so. There’s that.

2.) Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?

Shiro and Keith, but as mentioned the fandom ruined it for me after all the Shiro stans I saw bashing Keith, and all the antis that made platonic content only to turn around and either a.) use it to further their ship (usually Keith/Lance), or b.) behave atrociously toward other fans / voice actors / staff members / etc. Like I’d want to go look at platonic Shiro and Keith content and have a nice time, but I’d have to worry that OP was a terrible person the entire time I did, and it was just … no fictional relationship is worth that kind of stress. So yes, I’d still see them as a brotp, but it’s not one I can have fun with anymore.

Acxa and Ezor is another one, though mainly as I write them in Paradigm Shift. Here’s another cup of unpopular tea: Acxa and Ezor’s canon dynamic is basically Keith and Lance but with girls. The only reason it became as popular as it did is because both Acxa and Ezor are pretty by our human beauty standards (although I guess the personality dynamic of “Keith and Lance but as girls” didn’t hurt among the antis). That said, while I keep their differences and the way they grate on each other in my writing (in that Acxa sees Ezor as immature, Ezor sees Acxa as a nag), they have an older sister - younger sister dynamic going on. They really do love each other, it’s just beneath a lot of arguing because one is so responsible (Acxa) and the other is … not (Ezor). 

1.) What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

If it’s a popular ship in the Voltron fandom, you can pretty much bet I don’t ship it, lmao. Romantic Keith/Shiro, Keith/Lance, Allura/Lance, Acxa/Ezor … if it’s big, odds are I don’t like it. Only rare pairs are shipped in this house.

Note to Everyone: DO NOT reblog this to start discourse or wank or so help me god, I will block you immediately, no warnings and no regrets. Thank you.

[sojourner-between-worlds]

The Problem of Susan, pt.2

In case you missed it, the first part is here. You don’t have to read that first, but if you’re curious on reasons why all views are valid on this subject or why the witnesses are, indeed, reliable, then head on over to that link.

This post, however, is my own personal view on Susan’s fate, in regard to the series itself. There will be a third post with a Biblical perspective, as well. (It was supposed to all be in one, but I think this is far long enough for one sitting.)

I’m not trying to convince anyone to change what they think (I’ve already stated more than once that every view is a valid one), but I do hope I can get you to think about your own view -- question it, refine it, make it better. (Differing opinions don’t have to be bad, yes?) Feel free to comment/message me/reblog/whatever; I’m down for discourse on this. (Dangerous words, I know. I might even change my mind!) So let’s get started, shall we?

(All quotes taken from the 2008 HarperCollins Edition, which is a 7-in-1 volume so page numbers will not reflect single books.) 

Susan Pevensie is never reunited with her siblings and Aslan.

I debated starting with the typical passage everyone practically has memorized from reading it so many times in posts like these (you know the one, from the Last Battle, that literally everyone sites no matter their stance), and decided against it. If you want to see what I have to say about that passage specifically, you can head on back up to that link and read part one. The bits relevant to this post can be summed up as follows: None of her siblings deny what is said. It would be one thing if they were just talking among themselves, but Tirian is there. Tirian who knows nothing of the Gentle Queen except of her life in Narnia. Why would they want him to start thinking badly of her? They wouldn’t. But they also don’t want to deny the truth or sugar-coat it either. So good ol’ Peter changes the subject, and that’s all. He can’t deny that she indeed did say that Narnia was just fantasy, but he doesn’t wish to see her time in Narnia tainted either.

What I take from that popular passage? Susan disowned Narnia.

So let me take this a little further, and very simply refute a lot of popular opinions in one go: Aslan did not abandon her; she abandoned Narnia. If you think Aslan abandoned her, you need to go reread the entire series because thinking that He abandoned her goes against the very character established over the course of the books. The reason she was not allowed to return with them was not because she ‘grew up.’ She grew up in Narnia, too. She had suitors. (...Or did you just miss that entire subplot in the Horse and His Boy?) As a queen, she would have had many beautiful gowns. She didn’t like to go to war, but nowhere was she ever made out to be less of a queen because of that (and, let’s face it: ruling a country is a lot more than just marching off to war; she may have opted out of battle, but she definitely wasn’t just sitting on her butt doing nothing while her siblings were away). In fact, nowhere was she made out to be less of a queen for any of the above mentioned things. In fact, Tirian immediately recognizes that she’s missing. If those things had made her less of a queen, why would he know her just as he knew the others? She was seen as a powerful queen for her femininity just as much as Lucy was seen as powerful for being a warrior, because those things were not, of themselves, bad things. 

So what really happened then?

It was a choice. Plain and simple.

Just like her siblings, she made a choice when she returned to England. They choose to remember and talk about it often. She choose to forget.

I might add here, though, that it may not have necessarily been a conscious choice -- to forget, at least. If you’ll all remember how, at the end of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, they had all forgotten England as if it had been “a dream, or a dream of a dream.” They forgot England because it wasn’t a prominent part of their lives and it wasn’t relevant to ruling in Narnia. Susan could have just as easily forgotten Narnia the same way. 

However, it was still a choice. It was still a choice for her to stop talking about Narnia with her siblings. And when she stopped talking about it, she genuinely forgot that it was real. But what drove her to the choice of forgetting? Choosing to become so engrossed in England and choosing to regard everything that happened in Narnia as unimportant.

“But she was just doing what Aslan told her to do! To move on!” Yes, that is true. But not entirely. We don’t know what exactly Aslan said to Peter and Susan before they left for the last time, but if we’re assuming they were told the same as Edmund and Lucy, then we have to assume they were told everything the same, which means that not only were Peter and Susan told to live in their own world but they were supposed to try to find Aslan as he was known there. Completely forgetting and becoming engrossed in the world doesn’t fit the second half, now does it?

It was a choice. Plain and simple. And Susan chose wrong.

So now that I’ve established that the fault is hers and hers alone, why do I think she never made it back eventually?

Let’s start by talking about materialism.

Because it’s about her faith, not materialism.

A lot of people argue about what role materialism plays and just how far it goes towards her eternal destination, so let me offer this: Materialism was not the issue, but it did play a part. Susan’s materialism (lipstick and nylons and invitations) was the visible quantity by which they measured her spiritual decline. We can’t see anyone else’s heart, but people’s hearts are reflected in what they value. Susan placed value on material things, and that’s what other people saw and recognized, and that’s why Jill made a point of it in the Last Battle. She couldn’t see Susan’s heart, but she could see the things Susan appeared to value.

But material things were never the problem in and of themselves -- as I already stated.

It was her faith -- or, rather, her lack thereof.

Again, I’d like to draw your attention back to the idea of forgetting. When they were in Narnia the first time, they all forgot England. It wasn’t relevant to their current lives, so they didn’t talk much about it or think much about it. When Susan returned from their second trip, the same was true for her. Living in England and knowing she would never return, Narnia was no longer relevant to her. Unlike her siblings, she didn’t seek to hold onto that knowledge and so didn’t talk about it anymore or even really think about it.

I’ve always been told you make time for the things that are important to you. When you love something, you want to talk about it, right? (I mean, c’mon, be honest with yourself: you wouldn’t be on tumblr if that wasn’t true. We all have things we love to talk about to the point that we’re willing to talk to perfect strangers about it, even.) The things that you love and that are important and that you value are the things you want to talk about. And, as Eustace tells us in the Last Battle, Susan no longer wanted to talk about Narnia.

When Narnia was no longer before her, what did she use to fill the void? Lipstick and nylons and invitations. Instead of finding faith, she chose to find the world.

(As an aside, I do fully believe she could have brushed it off as irrelevant at the first partially out of anger or bitterness or flat-out hurt at never being able to return. As time passed, perhaps she held a grudge, but perhaps she also came to realize that it was truly irrelevant and there was nothing else behind her forgetting. Regardless of either situation, it was still a choice, she still forgot, and it still happened over time, not right away.)

The progression of her fall can be summed up as follows:

Susan left Narnia and found it to be no longer relevant to her life.

Susan stopped talking about Narnia because it was no longer relevant to her and, as a result, became infatuated with worldly things.

Susan forgot Narnia and denounced it as a silly game.

But why would someone give up so easily on something they once loved?

Maybe because she didn’t really believe in the first place.

Let’s start with the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe:

Even more than Peter, Susan didn’t want to believe Narnia was there in the first place.

After talking to Professor Kirke, Peter almost seems willing to believe it could be true (not that it necessarily is, only that it could be). 

“But do you really mean, sir,” said Peter, “that there could be other worlds -- all over the place, just round the corner -- like that?” --- “Nothing is more probable,” said the Professor. (Pg. 132) 

And Peter leaves it at that.

“But what are we to do?” said Susan. She felt that the conversation was beginning to get off the point. (Pg. 136) 

She couldn’t leave it alone, and felt that Lucy believing was solely the problem, not at all concerned with whether or not her sister had, in fact, been telling the truth. She refused to accept that it could be the truth and only wanted to know how to make her sister stop believing. She wouldn’t even consider it.

Susan starts out by making excuses. 

“I -- I wonder if there’s any point in going on,” said Susan. “I mean, it doesn’t seem particularly safe here and it looks as if it won’t be much fun either. And it’s getting colder every minute, and we’ve brought nothing to eat. What about just going home?” (Pg. 136-137). 

She only changes her mind for Lucy’s sake. She understands Lucy feeling guilty about Mr Tumnus, so, even though she’d rather go home, she gives in.

She tries to get them to turn around.

“Let’s go home,” said Susan. And then, though nobody said it out loud, everyone suddenly realized the same fact that Edmund had whispered to Peter at the end of the last chapter. They were lost. (Pg. 139)

The only reason she consents to follow Mr Beaver is because she realizes they are lost anyway so there’s no point in arguing over it.

Unlike the others, she regrets being there.

"How perfectly dreadful!” said Susan as they at last came back in despair. “Oh, how I wish we’d never come.” (Pg. 148)

Yes, those words could have just been spoken in regret over losing track of her brother, but she’s the only one to utter these words; Peter, instead, immediately asks what can be done. He and Lucy immediate look to what can be done instead of bemoaning their situation.

No one else tries to make any excuse to leave (except for Edmund, but we all know what he was like at that point in the story, and even he doesn’t fight as hard against it as she does). 

In summary: She was the only one who, even after seeing it for herself, didn’t want to stay.

And then in Prince Caspian:

Even after having ruled for fifteen years previously, Susan doubted.

“Where do you think you saw him?” asked Susan. --- “Don’t talk like a grown-up,” said Lucy, stamping her foot. “I didn’t think I saw him. I saw him.” (Pg. 373)

“Don’t be angry, Lu,” said Susan, “but I do think we should go down. I’m dead tired. Do let’s get out of this wretched wood into the open as quick as we can. And none of us except you saw anything.” (Pg. 374)

“Down,” said Peter after a long pause. “I know Lucy may be right after all, but I can’t help it. We must do one or the other.” (Pg. 374)

Peter at least acknowledges that Lucy could be right. Susan flat out refuses to believe Lucy saw anything because no one except her saw. As Edmund pointed out, this same type of situation had happened before, and Lucy had been right. And he says that before Susan casts her vote. Susan decides that doing what she would rather do is more important than trusting her sister and believing in Aslan.

Just like in LWW, she refuses to believe that Lucy is telling the truth and refuses to believe in Aslan.

Then she tried Susan. Susan did really wake up, but only to say in her most annoying grown-up voice, “You’ve been dreaming, Lucy. Go to sleep again.” (Pg. 381)

“Can you [see Aslan], Susan?” --- “No, of course I can’t,” snapped Susan. “Because there isn’t anything to see. She’s been dreaming. So lie down and go to sleep, Lucy.” (Pg. 383)

“Don’t talk nonsense, Lucy,” said Susan. “Of course you can’t go off on your own. Don’t let her, Peter. She’s being downright naughty.” --- “I’ll go with her, if she must go,” said Edmund. “She’s been right before.” --- “I know she has,” said Peter. “And she may have been right this morning [.]” (Pg. 383)

“You’ve no right to try to force the rest of us like that. It’s four to one and you’re the youngest,” said Susan. --- “Oh, come on,” growled Edmund. “We’ve got to go. There’ll be no peace till we do.” He fully intended to back Lucy up [.] (Pg. 384) (Technically three to two, since Edmund had already agreed to go with her. Susan doesn’t know how to count, lol.)

Even in Narnia, Susan’s first instinct is to tell Lucy, “You’ve been dreaming. It isn’t real.” Edmund fully backs her up; Peter doesn’t completely doubt her. Susan plays it off as make-believe because she can’t see Aslan with her own eyes.

Susan is the last of the Pevensies to be able to see Him -- and for good reason.

This time Edmund saw him. “Oh, Aslan!” he cried, darting forward. But the Lion whisked round and began padding up the slope on the far side of the Rush. --- “Peter, Peter,” cried Edmund. “Did you see?” --- “I saw something,” said Peter. (Pg. 385)

[A]nd always the glorious, silently pacing Beast ahead. Everyone except Susan and the Dwarf could see him now. (Pg. 385, emphasis mine.)

“I see him now. I’m sorry.” --- “That’s all right.” --- “But I’ve been far worse than you know. I really believed it was him - he, I mean - yesterday. ... I mean, deep down inside. Or I could have, if I’d let myself. ...” (Pg. 286, emphasis mine.)

Then, after an awful pause, the deep voice said, “Susan”. Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying. “You have listened to fears child,” said Aslan. (Pg. 386)

Edmund could see Him by the time they crossed the river. Peter could see Him before they got to the top of the other side of the gorge. Susan couldn’t see him until they were well on their way after getting to the top again. Why did it take her so much longer? Because even in Narnia -- when she could see the world before her -- her faith in Aslan was weak. She said it herself: that she could have believed if she’d let herself. But other things -- fear in this case -- got in the way, and those fears were only swept aside after she could physically see Him with her own eyes.

In summary: Susan spends the majority of their time in Narnia the second time doubting Aslan is there, even though fifteen years of experience should have told her otherwise.

“Or, I could have, if I’d let myself.”

Susan didn’t just forget Narnia. She didn’t really believe in the first place. I don’t think she really wanted to believe, either.

From the very beginning, she had been dragged in, kicking and screaming the whole way. She adjusted to her life there by forgetting England. Then, suddenly, she was back in England again. I suppose maybe, just like her siblings, she had hoped to one day get back. But after she was told she could not return again? It didn’t matter if she remembered if she was never going to be able to go back. That knowledge wasn’t practical in England; it had no use for her, so she didn’t need to remember it.

During their second trip in Prince Caspian, she was in Narnia, she could see it with her own two eyes, and yet she didn’t believe when Lucy had said she saw Aslan. Even when Edmund and then Peter said they could see Aslan, she still could not because she didn’t believe He was there. It took her a long time to be able to see what was right in front of her the whole time. (What changed in that time? We don’t know; CS Lewis didn’t tell us her thoughts anymore than he gave us her definite fate. But, at some point, she relented to the fact that Aslan was there, probably because of her siblings and no other reason, just as she only ever really believed anything because of her siblings.) 

From the very beginning, she couldn’t bring herself to believe something existed unless she herself could see it right in front her.

And if, while in Narnia, she couldn’t believe Aslan was right there in front of her, why would she be able to believe when all of that was stripped away?

Including her siblings. Her only remaining tie to Narnia.

She has forgotten, she can no longer see it with her own eyes, and her siblings aren’t there to remind her of what once was.

Without going back again herself, there is nothing to bring her back to the place she once loved, even if she actually wanted to be there.

Susan Pevensie is never reunited with her siblings and Aslan.

[arsonforcharlie]

a very late fuck squad update: “i had a really good cliffhanger written but then you guys yelled a lot.”

sorry i’m late on this! i was finishing off some notes for tomorrow and realized i never actually posted a summary for last week. whoops

Started the recording just after Saida started saying ”that’s gonna be the name of my chick punk band.” Lost whatever gem that was to the ages.

Saida: “So I have a confession. [fills mouth with cake] Iunno how to play this game.”

“Stop being so fucking mirthful in my house.”

Saida: “I’m sorta resentful that I rolled so good.” ”Those stats represent, like, who you are as a fucking person.” Saida: “YOU’RE who you are as a fucking person!” “…. yes! Technically!”

Yoni: “I have an 18 in Wisdom!” Saida: “So what’s your excuse?”

We finally started playing a solid 9 minutes into the recording. Christ.

Saida: “Did the thing i said about all the pie I eat make it onto the recording?” “It’s on there now.”

First roll of the session is to determine how hungover Sergei and Saida are. This is how our game is going.

Saida’s first action having turned over a new moral leaf is to go through Enro Monsterblower’s pockets, shake him awake and kick him out of the hotel room.

Saida: “now that I know I’m good at everything I’m willing to try things.”

I made some truly fantastic snoring noises that convinced Rhonia and Sergei that there are werewolves in Chillwater.

“I’m gonna wake him up and make casual conversation about all the murder.”

Saida: “How did you get here?” “You… you invited me back here.” Saida: “That sounds like something I would do.” “It was, you did do that-” Saida: “I don’t need your backtalk.”

Saida: “I handcuff him.” “Do you have handcuffs?” “I 100 percent do, I’m Macgyver. Actual handcuffs, I stole them from Lord Acotar.” “Right… You’re not Macgyver at all, you’re a thief! That’s not what Macgyver did. Hey, I’ll make a grappling hook by stealing this grappling hook!”

Harde messages them to point out that maybe they shouldn’t be using official channels to plan drunk roller coaster adventures. Saida: “I write ‘Uh oh.’”

Harde and Narder have not made much progress on tracking down Cheeda, the maid who was fired. She didn’t show up at home and they haven’t found any records of her looking for a new job in town. Having discovered one fact about the case, we return to the Case Of Saida Invited Some Dude To Stay The Night And Then He Did That.

Rhonia: “I see if the snow is magical!” “Presumably you’re detecting magic and not just, like, tasting the snow to see if it gives you magic tingles.” Saida: “I wanna do that!”

Rhonia is wrapped up in a big hotel comforter and she goes to Saida’s room to get her out of having to deal with the dude she just slept with. Saida throws his pants at him and tells him to get out of her room. She also tells everyone about the magic snow.

“Oh, before breakfast I was gonna go help shovel the snow-” Saida: “IT’S MAGIC SNOW”

Saida: “I think I either have an apology letter to write or someone to avoid. One of the two.”

Maddela’s new sexual partner, Idina, who invented cigarettes, starts smoking, and when asked to stop, just puts it out on the back of her arm. “She’s my new favorite character, fuck all you guys.”

Saida: “I’m gonna try and look presentable just in case.” Rhonia: “I’m still in the blanket.”

“We need to know what your hairstyle is, Saida, it’s really important to the plot!”

Saida: “Any land deals? Developers? Do they exist?” “No, and no developers. We own most of this mountain.” “Smart business move.” “Owning a mountain? Yes.”

Yoni: “Alright I think i cracked it. It’s ecoterrorists.”

Rhonia eats the snow. A 9 perception reveals that it tastes like snow. And her mouth is cold now.

Saida: “It’s amazing how more together I look when I’m not drunk and you’re you.”

Saida: “Well as long as we can dig a pathway we’ll be alright.” “Oh, you’re going to help dig a pathway? “[scoff] of course not.”

Rhonia and Yoni get sent over to interrogate Tarand. He doesn’t know who cast the snow spells, and is kind of indignant at the assumption that he would.

Saida: “I’m judging him for the fact that he almost married me. Dumbass.”

“She’s making jokes about not knowing how to play Pathfinder.” Yoni: “I don’t need to joke. I’m living it.”

Rhonia: “There are… some things…. it would be handy to have a wizard for…. Do you know any necromancy?”He doesn’t know any real necromancy. Saida writes in the book that she’s been drunk for two days so now Harde and Narder know. Also a bunch of insults.

“Dates don’t exist, this is fantasy time!”

“The name doesn’t ring a bell.” Saida: “Is that because she said gnomeface instead of his actual name?”

We renamed the himbo Garfunkel because I kept forgetting his name.

Tarand met both Shareena and Garfunkel in the hotel bar, didn’t have much contact with them outside that. Yoni goes back to the table and Rhonia continues the interrogation. She finds out that Tarand could potentially try to stop the snow, and that teleporting objects is possible.

“He has two plates. One has pancakes, one has waffles. He’s rich. That’s what being rich means.”

Rhonia then gets a 30 to intimidate Tarand, takes his waffles, and walks away eating them.

A very long discussion where we all try to do math trying to figure out how to burn their way through the snow.

Saida: “Did you people not hire a fake fantasy civil engineer?”

Rhonia: “Are you gonna Legolas it?”

Sergei casts Featherstep which lets Pashmina walk on snow, and Garfunkel is out there putting blankets on the horses, having waded through the snow.

Saida draws a dick in the notebook and tries to frame Yoni for it.

Sergei and Pashmina bound out over the snow to the equipment shed to get the plow and snowshoes for everyone. Saida sews herself a coat out of a blanket for herself, Yoni, and Rhonia.

Saida: “It’s almost like someone came prepared for this winter resort.” Maddela: “No, I just steal shit.”

Saida: “That sounds arbitrary. Like, Canada 1969 abortion laws arbitrary.”

It was established that Tarand is powerful enough to do all the magic they’ve seen so far.

Saida: “I don’t understand why he was in a snit about the fact that I was drunk for two days!”

Due to forgetting horse terms, Sergei gets “debriefing his horse” and chats with Garfunkel.

Saida: “It’s not a heavy petting zoo!”

Sergei tries to push off blame for the Saida situation despite being an instigator, tells Garfunkel that Saida didn’t kill Shareena.

“I remember she was causing a scene as she went out- I heard she was yelling, and throwing things. I think Tarand has a type.”

Sergei: “She was a…. professional.” “Professional? Professional what? I don’t think she was a lawyer.”

Yoni rolls to snap her fingers, rolls pretty low, and gets covered in leftover syrup from Rhonia’s pancakes.

“I’m gonna let you guys take 10 on snapping your fingers.”

Sprit doesn’t know of any gnomes in the area, and she didn’t know that Cheeda didn’t show up at home. She lets them see her teleportation charm, and reveals that there are more in Llydor’s office.

A request has been made to meet Scrote the Ogre but that’s gonna require one hell of a GM bribe. There was a break for Rhonia’s player to tell us the story of a GM who named his world Anustear by accident. Whoops.

Sprit says she didn’t see Laurelia before she died, but gets caught out and admits that she was paid to deliver a letter. She had been asked not to tell.

Yoni: “I’m lying that she can trust me!”

“It’s weird that you’re trying to ingratiate yourself to a woman you’ve had sex with by acting like a child.”

Saida uses her gauntlet to read one of Sprit’s memories. She doesn’t do a hit. Sprit has been asked to deliver notes to Scrom in the past from a mysterious person that she doesn’t know.

Yoni: “We’ve got it, Bobbie, Bobbie’s the murderer!” “You’ve solved it, you’ve found me out, I murdered my own characters and you’re next!” “What if I don’t believe in god?” “I’m gonna double murder you because you’re a cleric.”

They get Llydor to show them the extra teleportation charms, and it’s revealed that two are missing. He also agrees to bring up the guestbooks from the past month, and tells them that he doesn’t have contracts for all the employees. Saida brings up that Llydor is treating his employees badly. Then they all go to dinner. Everyone discusses the questions that they meant to ask and then forgot to do.

“On tumblr I just reblog posts at random, which honestly would explain a lot about my blog.”

Maddela breaks into Llydor’s office, and digs around for clues. Among many other things, they find letters from Llydor’s kid, which prompts a resounding “EWWWW” from around the table. Sorry Llydor Philkirk canonically fucks.

“Roll for it to make sure you don’t completely fuck it up. Oh. Oh, that was a facial expression you just made.”

Maddela “Actually…. I’m gonna go… and not steal the carpet.”

Under the carpet is a large brass key, and Maddela uses her key blank to copy it. Like a proFRESHional. She’s seen coming out of his office by an approaching servant, but otherwise it’s a flawless crime. Meanwhile, Llydor hasn’t yet shown up to drop off the books. They summon Sprit, who tells them that he left some books at the front desk for her to drop off because he had some other business.They send Sprit to go find Llydor but also to get a bottle of champagne and some snacks first. Saida reads through to see if she recognizes the handwriting in any of the books from the note she saw in Sprit’s memories, but she doesn’t.

“You need to learn to count to three to play Pathfinder.” Saida: “Well you need to learn to read to GM Pathfinder.”

RUDE

“You try to track down Llydor.” Sergei: “Yeah!” “What are you doing to try to track down Llydor?” “……..”

“He does have a distinctive cologne. Scent, for dudes.”

Sergei rolls really well and finds that Llydor went outside, but loses track of the trail because he took the well-shovelled path. Saida has spent time looking up AA quotes and plans to drop them whenever she feels it’s appropriate.There’s also a subplot where Yoni is convinced that Pashmina was pregnant and had an abortion. The less said about that the better.

“You guys, I’m in AA, not NA. There’s a whole world of drugs out there.”

Yoni, Saida, Maddela, and Sergei visit a bar called the Jeweled Bitch, which is explicitly there for rich people to feel like they’re slumming it. At the bar, people knew Shareena- she had a gig where she posed as a hotel guest to get into the hotel bar to find clients. They often had to kick her out of the hotel bar, though. Maddela also hit on the bartender.

“You found a book. A self-help book. The Fantasy-cret.”

They meet at the hotel bar, where Krash is drinking and they have a pretty awkward conversation.

“Who are the bartenders? How many are there? What are their names? What are their backstories?” My players are trying to kill me.

Saida: “Do we know what Sharona looks like?” “Do you know Shareena’s name?”

The bartender, Veldahar, reveals that he doesn’t know much that they didn’t already know, and then says some shit about orcs so Rhonia intimidates him.

None of my friends can snap their fingers and it’s very funny.

Suddenly, Sprit goes to find them to let them know that Llydor Philkirk has been murdered and abandoned in a garbage chute, and it looks like he has frostbite on his fingers and toes.

“I’m not comfortable being down here with the body. It’s creepy.” “This is a murder mystery!”

“You know, if you keep talking about the murders like they’re good things, people will keep suspecting you.”

They inform Harde and Narder that Llydor is dead and also immediately start planning to take over the resort and start a sex cult. “I think Bobbie is crying.”