#angsty pining ensues

[fierypen37]

The Flames Just Get Higher

Enjoy!

@snowxstormworld​

@libradoodle1​​ for the beautiful moodboard!

The Flames Just Get Higher

 Guilt and desire were cruel masters. Snowflakes fell in a cold, feathery kiss on his upturned face. Even the hushed silence of Winterfell’s godswood offered no solace. Here, all he could see was the crown of winter roses in her hair, the magnificent white fur of her wedding gown, her ripe lips quivering with cold and nerves as she pledged her life to be joined with his brother’s. Neither hard labor, nor beatings on the training yard, nor prayers to the old gods could absolve him of what lived and breathed inside his heart. A bastard was devious, amoral, ruled by lust and avarice. Every day of his life, he’d tried to live by honor as his father did. But the moment Daenerys Targaryen set her delicate foot in Winterfell’s bailey, he was lost. Cold seeped through the knees of his trousers where he knelt in prayer. Even through the leather of his gloves, his woven fingers ached. The face carved in the weirwood judged him. Faithless and horrid.

“Why are you sulking? Shouldn’t you be at post with Dany?” Arya asked, crunching on an apple. Jon scowled at her over his shoulder.

“I’m praying, not sulking, little sister,” Jon grumbled, rising to his feet, “And Lady Daenerys is at the high table with your mother breaking her fast. If she isn’t safe with the inner keep of Winterfell, I know not how to make her so.”

   Arya shrugged. She and Dany had become fast friends in the half year since she had wed Robb. They spoke of dragonriders and old stories, rode like hellions together through the fields, chatted and picked wildflowers. Dany had won every one of their hearts. In the bower, she would spend hours sewing and painting with Lady Catelyn, Sansa and the septas. Bran and Rickon would sit in the rushes at her feet and listen to her stories. She lit the dark corners of Winterfell with laughter, so dour and quiet in the wake of Father’s death a year ago. An apoplexy, Maester Luwin said.

Rhaegar Targaryen, King of the Seven Kingdoms, had trothed his younger sister to the heir of Winterfell when they were both still infants. A way to knit the kingdoms back together after Robert Baratheon’s rise, and salve to Eddard’s Stark’s wound of losing his dearest friend. A dragon’s wroth was not to be scoffed at, though. The Stormlands would never rise again. Stannis and Renly were stripped of lands and title and imprisoned in the black cells. House Buckler now wore the title of Lord of Storm’s End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Jon Arryn and the Vale suffered a similar fate.  

“Come, save your piety for later. There’s breakfast,” Arya said, nudging his shoulder with hers. Even Arya’s easy humor did little to lighten his mood.

“I’m not hungry,” Jon said. His belly betrayed him by letting out a loud gurgle. A double measure of guilt had been his meal, and prayers had done little to nourish him. Jon had done it again last night. Spied on them.

The first time had been an accident. On the feast night of Robb and Daenerys’ wedding, Jon had sought solitude in a supply closet. The air was musty and close, smelling of pickled turnips, but a fair sight better than the close heat, reek of sweat and raucous, drunken laughter of the great hall. Jon took a swing from his hip flask when a loud crash caught his attention. Jon peered through the aperture of the closed door. Her voice caught him.

“Ser, hic I think I’ve—hic—taken to my cups!”

“Northern ale is strong, my southron lady. And call me Robb,” he said, his voice a gentle rumble.

“Robb,” she repeated just as softly. Her words were flavored with a tinge of an accent and Jon suddenly longed for those lips to form his own name.

In the faint light of the candelabra in its sconce, Jon was struck by how beautiful they were together. Robb’s auburn hair, high sharp cheek bones, eyes blue as a summer sky. And Daenerys . . . gods, she was a goddess of moonlight with her fair skin, silver hair and violet eyes. An old familiar jealousy twisted and sickened within Jon’s heart. Robb cradled her cheek and bent to kiss her. A catch of breath, a soft half-smothered sound as their lips touched. And she melted into Robb. Jon was transfixed, and hard as brass. Like a deviant, he watched as they kissed and touched—chastely through their wedding clothes, of course, there was still the bedding ceremony to consider. Half-innocent, half-hungry. Tentative and tender and so beautiful his eyes burned looking at them. Watching. Listening. Wanting so bad, there was a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Come on, Jon. Ghost misses you,” Arya’s voice drew him back to the present, and she tugged his arm. Jon relented, though her argument did not hold water. Jon and Ghost had gone for their morning run before the sun rose. Jon steeled himself against the familiar torment of seeing her. The warmth of Winterfell’s great hall embraced them. Daenerys was laughing. The high, happy sound seemed to hang in the air. Or he was a besotted fool. Either would be accurate.

“There you two are! Come and fetch some breakfast. Jon, there’s some white cheese left, and some bacon.” His foolish heart skipped a beat. She had taken note of his preferences and saved him some of his favorite food. Did she? Could she . . . ? The sweet feeling was as fleeting as a beam of sunlight under swift-moving clouds. Lady Stark glowered at him. Those blue eyes as hard and cold as marbles. Even in the wake of Father’s passing, her hatred of Jon had not slackened. Jon wouldn’t have been surprised if she blamed him for the apoplexy in Lord Eddard’s head. Daenerys laid a gentle hand over Lady Stark’s. A keen judge of character, Robb’s wife. For her part, Lady Stark mellowed under her daughter-in-law’s regard. Jon cleared his throat. From the tail of his eye, he saw Arya take her seat on Daenerys’s other side, scratching Nymeria’s ears as she did so.

“My thanks, Lady Daenerys,” Jon murmured, taking a seat on one of the lower tables. A servant laid the plate Daenerys had made before him. Warm bread spread with butter and drizzled with honey, slabs of bacon crisp at the edges, neat parings of white cheese. She even remembered he liked to the salty rind. A better man would have abstained, but Jon could not. The food was excellent, the sweet smile he earned from her was even better. There was perhaps a metaphor to extrapolate from this, but he chose not to dwell upon it.

“Where is Robb?” Jon asked. The Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North usually breakfasted with his wife before attending to his duties.

“As his guard, you should be aware of his comings and goings,” Lady Stark snipped. The words were mild compared to her usual jabs, no doubt due to present company.

“Mother, Jon is my guard. Robb has his own retinue,” Daenerys admonished gently. Jon took a long draught of his water, trying desperately to ignore what being referred to as ‘hers’ did to him. His cock had some very definite opinions.

While Lady Stark’s position as former lady and mother to the current lord was well-respected, there was no doubt of Daenerys’s authority. There was steel beneath her sunny smile and gods, it was as if she had been fashioned for him. Fashioned for him, and married to another. A cosmic fucking joke.

“Robb’s preparing for the progress as soon as the snow stops. A hard freeze tonight with help the sledges,” Arya answered, sneaking morsels of bacon to Nymeria. Jon nodded. He and Robb had poured over the map to find the best route last evening. Every five years, the progress toured all of the Stark bannermen and holdfasts. The purpose was to renew oaths of homage, field complaints, assure the bannermen and sworn swords that House Stark was strong. Houses often tried to outdo one another in feasts and entertainments.

“You needn’t worry for accommodations, my lady. The sledge is most comfortable.” Jon said. Drawn by six draft horses, the closed sledge was very warm. A painfully vivid image rose in his mind’s eye: Daenerys in her chemise with Jon’s head between her creamy white thighs.

“I have no doubt you will see to my comfort as well as my safety, Jon,” she said with a merry grin. Daenerys rose and bussed Lady Stark’s cheek, then playfully pinched Arya’s arm.

“Since I intend to ride in the sledge, perhaps we can race after the midday meal? Just to give our horses some exercise.” she challenged. Arya’s grin was fierce.

“Excellent! I’ll go groom Mara!” Arya said and bolted off with Nymeria at her heels. Jon’s mouth tipped at her antics.

There was a familiar drawing of tension within him as Daenerys approached. The ghost of her scent lingered in the air, lemon soap and clean linen.  

“Walk with me?” she asked. Together, they walked out of the great hall and down one of the wending halls toward her rooms. There was still a mountain of packing left to be done. The everyday gown of green wool clung sweetly to her and her hair shone as the light knifed through the arrow slits. Jon rested his hand on the pommel of his sword and waited for her to say what was on her mind.

“Did you ride with your father on the last progress?” she asked, chewing on her lower lip in a very distracting fashion.

“I did.” He’d been eighteen and spoiling for adventure as most young men were. The shine of riding at his father’s side to survey his lands quickly soured. All the bannermen fawned after Robb and sneered at him. Most lords wouldn’t even seat him in the hall during feasts. By the time they reached Last Hearth, Jon contemplated running away north to the Wall. Uncle Benjen would welcome him. If he had, he would a brother of the Night’s Watch and wouldn’t be trapped in the sweet hell of loving Daenerys. There were days when he wished it were so.

Beside him, she plucked at the gold braiding looped at her cuff, embroidered with painstaking care.

“I suppose I am nervous about the progress.”

“About what?” he asked. She shrugged, a tight nervous gesture.

“There . . . there is little love for Targaryens so far north. Most would have happily risen against my brother with Robert Baratheon. What if—” A sudden flash of anger burned through him so hot he wondered that smoke didn’t eke out his ears. He stopped in the hall and faced her square.

“If anyone looks at you in a way that displeases you, tell me. I will take care of it,” Jon said in a fierce undertone. The leather of his gloves whined as he clenched the hilt of his sword.

“I will protect you, my lady. I swear it.” The words were a holy oath, he would protect her with every drop of his strength.

Something darkened those violet eyes and Jon tumbled into them, mesmerized by her closeness. In the half year since she had arrived in Winterfell, Jon had made a study of her habits. Daenerys had a tender and generous heart. Gifts and embraces were given freely and easily. She held Sansa’s hand as they whispered together, she embraced Lady Catelyn in greeting, she kissed her handmaiden’s cheek for fetching her correspondence. The one glaring difference: she never touched him. Not once. Jon ached for it, longed for her to pat his arm or kiss his cheek or squeeze his hand. Though he yearned for every intimate touch, he would settle for even an informal one.

“Jon . . .” Gods, the way she said his name! It hurt so sweetly. Daenerys stepped back. Jon realized with shame that he had stepped closer, invading the usual neutral space between them. Jon cleared his throat, an apology bubbling up. Daenerys cleared her throat.

“I wish Arya were coming with us,” she said, her tone warbling. Jon warmed to the topic of his favorite sister, grateful to smooth over the awkwardness of their earlier exchange.

“Her mother will have to bar the door to her rooms on the eve of our leave-taking. I’m certain she would pose as a stableboy and ride off with us.”

Daenerys chuckled. Jon opened the door to her rooms.

“Don’t give her any ideas! She might do just that,” Daenerys said. Conversation flowed easily as Daenerys flitted about the room, packing her things the travel chest. They spoke about the progress, the weather, their first visit took them south to Cerwyn. Robbard Cerwyn had been a good friend and bannerman to their father and would be a perfect beginning.

“Perhaps Mother Catelyn would let the little ones accompany us south to Cerwyn. It isn’t far. They could be home again before supper,” Daenerys said. Jon made a noncommittal sound. Lady Stark did not like many of her brood beyond the walls of Winterfell. In her mind, old grudges lingered. With those grudges, the risk of kidnappings and assassinations.

Time passed smoothly. The two of them had formed an easy rapport. Silences were comfortable. He studiously ignored the unmade bed, and ignored even harder the lingering memory of last night. Robb and Dany entwined . . . and Jon watching. Jon moved to stoke the fire. To Jon, the room was comfortably warm, though Daenerys’ warmer blood thought differently. Daenerys bent at the coffer and began sorting through the already packed clothes. The unmade bed and her plump arse lit something dark and hungry in him. A nudge of his hand would bar the door. He could bend over her and kiss that sweet smiling mouth . . .

Daenerys muttered a curse. Jon blinked back to awareness to find Daenerys clutching a bleeding finger on her left hand.

“My lady,” Jon said, crossing the room to stand at her side.

“Damned clasp snagged,” Daenerys said, blotting her finger with a linen cloth.

“Let me see,” Jon said, cradling her left hand between both of his. A ragged scratch across the pad of her fingertip. Another drop of blood welled up and Jon checked the perverse urge to lick it. Taste the salt and heat of her. Gently, Jon wound the scrap of linen around her finger.

“We must be careful, hmm? Wouldn’t want it to fester,” Jon said, his voice huskier than he intended. The words were intended as a jest. Daenerys smiled, a breathtaking crinkle of her eyes, the white gleam of her perfect teeth.

“Do you think I’ll survive, ser?” she asked.

“I shall see to it, my lady. You shall need careful tending,” Jon said. Gods, the words fell out of his mouth: coy and teasing. Daenerys pulled her hand free of his and Jon suddenly felt as bereft as if left out in a blizzard. Gooseflesh stippled his skin at the sudden chill between them.    

“I—I don’t feel well. I think I shall rest my eyes a moment,” she said. Jon nodded, his scowl deepening.

“I shall see to it that you are not disturbed,” he promised, “if you have need of the maester, just ring.” Daenerys led him to the door. The ornaments tied at the end of her long silver braid chimed with each step, her slippers whispered on the rushes. The door shut with a heavy thump and Jon inwardly writhed with mingled shame and longing. Striding down the hall, he stopped the tacksman at the end of the hall.

“See that no one disturbs Lady Daenerys. She needs rest,” Jon said. The man nodded.

Jon clenched his hands so hard his fingertips went numb. Temptation lay ripe for the taking. The long vigil this morning hadn’t purged the longing. Jon shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. Guilt and desire waged a painful war within him. His body seemed to move of his own will, one foot in front of the other. The next he knew, he was in small storeroom. The room directly above the lord’s rooms. With a crack in the floorboard. On their wedding night, Jon had once again sought solitude as he paced and drank, paced and drank, sinking deeper into misery. The low murmur of Robb’s voice startled him. He looked down and found a crack in the floorboard.

Above the bed.  

He crouched down on his knees and watched. Drank in the milky perfection of Daenerys’ bare skin. The half-awkward fumbling of new lovers. Shy and eager by turns. Gods, the wet little sounds of their kissing, the stifled moans. The firelight made Robb’s sweating back gleam. Jon shoved down his trousers, pumping his hard cock as Robb made love to his new wife. Jon watched Daenerys’ face. Pain made her brows pucker, her lips parted in a soundless gasp. Yes, yes he would comfort her. Kiss her sweet mouth, tease that sweet pearl of flesh between her thighs until she writhed, begging for more. It almost ruined it when his double Robb did not see to her pleasure. Then Daenerys had dragged Robb in for a kiss and Jon sped up his strokes. Yes, so beautiful. When she cried out, pleasure twisted through Jon like a cruel knife.

Spying on them became an addiction. If he could not love her himself, Jon was happy that Robb would. At least, he convinced himself he was happy. When he watched them, Jon was able to ignore Robb and focus on Daenerys. He knew what sound she made when she found her pleasure. He knew the positions she liked best. He knew she had a pink heart-shaped birthmark on her left inner hip. He dreamed of it. Wanted to trace its borders, nuzzle the tender skin there. Often, at midday, Daenerys would retreat to her rooms and rest. And before she rested . . .

Jon knelt in his customary spot; his cock already bruisingly hard. Through the crack, he watched as Daenerys shed her dress and stood in her chemise. The firelight illuminated the shape of her body through the thin fabric. She slipped under the heavy down blankets and furs. Her hair a silver spill on the pillow, her face relaxed and eyes shut. Imagining her husband no doubt. Jon’s mouth watered, following the stealthy movement of her hand beneath the coverlet. First at her breasts, a repetitive motion, first one, then the other. Plucking her nipples. Yes. He wanted to taste her skin, suck on those pert little buds.

Jon loosed the ties of his trousers and poured a bit of oil into his palm. The pleasure of his rough hand on the hot skin of his cock made him hiss through his teeth. He watched. The lump of her hand beneath the coverlets slid lower. She shifted her legs wider and a soft moan fell from her lips. Jon swallowed hard, stilling his movements. Gods, the sight of her sent him mad with lust. One little moan and he could’ve spilled. No, wait . . . wait it was better to come when she did. Jon pumped his cock, enthralled by the little movements of her fingers. Rubbing that sweet little pearl. He imagined the musky smell of her cunt, the tiny wet sounds as she slid her fingers through her honey. Mm, gods he longed to linger there, to touch her sweet cunt, fuck her with his tongue, his fingers, his cock. A slight shift, a thrusting motion. Oh gods! Daenerys thrust her fingers inside herself. Yes, yes sweetheart. A little more. I’ll make you feel so good, love. Give me more. The endearments and filthy words remained unspoken, but he willed her to keep going. He craved her pleasure more than his own. Jon sped his pace to match hers. Pleasure boiled up, a warning tingle in his balls.

“Jon!” Daenerys cried out as she came. Jon bit down hard on a howl, pleasure surging through him. White streaks of come dribbled from his fingers into a puddle on the floor. Endless spasms of pleasure, the sound of his name ricocheting through his head. Jon slumped down until his forehead touched the plank floorboard. Daenerys had said his name. What in the seven hells was he going to do now?        

#daenerys targaryen #jon snow #jonerys fanfiction #smut #FP37fics #robberys #robb and dany are married #angsty pining ensues

[stormhearty]

✨ pairings: Lucien x Reader, Elucien

🔮 preview: Hanahaki Disease definition: “If your love is not getting returned, flowers start growing inside your body, suffocating you from the inside. Surgical removal is dangerous and you're dying without your soulmate's love.”

📣 trigger warnings: pining, unacquainted romance, vomiting, mentions of blood, ambiguous ending

🔎 rating: PG-13 | 🔏 word count: 4.5k

💜 masterlist + notes: I am the Queen of Angst, as per @prythianpages… another one for the books. I loved Lucien, I loved him since ACOTAR. And so, it is time… to give him some angst to his already angsty story. I do hope you guys enjoy it!

“Lucien —-”

You gasped his name, struggling against the bonds that bound your hands behind your back, your knees ached against the stone ground. Tears lined your eyes, watching Lucien leave your side, tugging the turned middle Archeron sister into his arms, her wet form shivering from being drowned into the cauldron moments earlier.

The world around you slowed and all you could focus on was how Lucien held the sister so tenderly in his arms. For a moment, his back stiffened, and looked over his shoulder — back at you. Your eyes connected and all you felt was a burst in your chest — one that glowed but also one that was slowly suffocating you.

A mating bond.

Another gasp escaped your lips, head bowing as you pressed your forehead against the cool stone underneath your body. Your chest heaved, gasping as your back arched — your throat burned, your chest ached, you felt as if your lungs were on fire. You felt like you were burning from the inside out. Tilting your head up, you hoped that Lucien’s gaze was still on you, that he would abandon the Archeron sister and return to your side — you had hoped that the mating bond snapped for him as well; however, that wasn’t the case.

The eldest Archeron sister snatched the younger back into her arms, pushing Lucien away, him stumbling back from the strength. You watched as Lucien and the middle sister’s gaze intertwined, and even from your position, you could hear the disbelief in his tone.

“You’re my mate.”

The world tilted in front of you, and chaos ensued. You didn’t care whether Tamlin had broken out of his bonds and stalked towards Feyre. You didn’t care that Feyre was begging Tamlin to break the bond between her and Rhysand. You didn’t care that the Hybern King had caused all this madness — just for the Cauldron.

You just didn’t care.

Because all you cared about was the fact that Lucien had felt the bond with the middle Archeron sister — the beautiful Cauldron-Made fae — and not you.

Your world blurred behind your eyes, and you didn’t even realize that Mor was winnowing everyone of the Inner Circle away — the ward had been broken, and everyone was escaping. You watched as she ripped the Archeron sister from Lucien’s grasp, the male roaring at the loss of his mate. He clawed and grasped the ground where she had laid. You wanted to call out to him, tell him that you were still there — that he had another mate. But your voice died in your throat, and you barely could even let out a whisper of his name. Your throat burned, and you felt your lungs constrict and you couldn’t get any air in your lungs.

Pressing your hand against your throat, you wheezed.

You couldn’t breathe.

Panic set into your features as you clawed the palms of your hands, blood dripping down onto the ground. Arms gathered around you, tugging the bonds away from your wrist as you looked up, “—-Mor…” you choked out, grasping her upper arms as you struggled to get to your feet. You focused on her, and not the fact that your body was slowly being deprived of air.

She pressed her lips on the crown of your head, soothing you, as if she knew exactly what had happened between you and Lucien, “Hold on tight, (Y/N), we’re going home… You’re going to be okay…”

Wrapping your arms around her shoulders, you glanced at Lucien, watching him snap his head back towards you as if feeling that you were going to be taken away from him as well. Your eyes locked with his and you felt tears cascade down your cheeks.

“(Y/N)—-…!”

Your name slipped from his lips and all you saw before you were taken in swirls of light and darkness, was his hand reaching out to you.

“(Y/N)…”

You held up a hand, stopping a worried Feyre from coming to your aid. Eyes locked with hers and all you could do was shake your head, a silent plead not to draw any attention. A moment of silence passed before your gaze drifted up those familiar marble steps, the scent of your mate lingering in the air.

Lucien had just stopped by the River House and passed you — heading up those stairs… into Elain’s room.

You held your breath, awaiting the moment when the pain would slam into your body.

Burst!

A painful gasp escaped your lips as you grasped your chest, feeling the burst of flowers invading your lungs. It had taken your breath away so strongly that you stumbled backward, pressing your back against the marble column, chest heaving as you tried to gain any ounce of air into your flower-filled lungs.

Tears stung your eyes as the pain wracked your body, teeth biting into pink-stained lips, fighting back a painful cry that threatened to leave your throat. You couldn’t make noise… not when Lucien was oh-so-close to hearing it.

Just the thought of the male caused another surge of pain, feeling your organs being pushed around inside your body to make way for more of those deadly flowers to occupy your being.

It hurt so much.

All you could focus was on the indescribable pain, feeling every burst and explosion of your illness taking over your body, that you barely were able to feel gentle hands cupping your cheek — the scent of paint and starlight invading your system — Feyre.

You couldn’t help but lean into her gentle hold, her warmth as you blinked away the white flashes of pain, trying with all your might to focus on your friend. The High Lady looked at you with fear and worry etched on her beautiful, ethereal features and all you could do was give her a small smile, despite the pain that wracked your body with tiny shivers, “I’m fine, Feyre…” You tried to reassure her, your voice meek and strained… your tone shaking underneath each word. You wanted to convince yourself that you were fine… it was just another flare of your illness.

It would pass.

It always did.

Both of you knew you were nothing but fine.

Not when the source of your pain was just up those marble steps.

Your face scrunched as another wave of pain shook your body, your back arching and your limbs stiffening at the agony that you were succumbing to every time your illness took over. Attempting to regain control over your body, you pressed your palm against your mouth, trying to fight back every urge to vomit all over the floor. But the burn in your throat was so strong, that the need to empty your stomach would help alleviate the pain. You scrambled to push Feyre away, pressing your hands against marble floors — and all you could do was heave.

A rainbow of flowers splashed onto those pristine floors — vines and thorns from those very flowers scratching your lungs and throat, causing blood to spew out of your lips, dripping down the edge of your lips, coating those flowers with red and the smell of metal lingering in your mouth.

It burns, it hurts.

That was all that you can think of.

How the pain took over your whole body, and there was nothing else you could think of.

Not even the fact that your destined mate had decided to choose a bond that was not connected to you.

Tears of agony cascaded down your cheeks as you gagged and heaved those flowers that took over your entire system. You inhaled, grasping as much air as you could before you vomited again, this time the contents of your stomach pooling underneath you.

You didn’t understand why. You couldn’t understand why this was cursed upon you — why you were destined to live this way, in so much pain… in so much hurt.

In so much loneliness.

For millennials, you had believed a mating bond was a beautiful thing, something that a happy ever after would grant you, much like those fairytale stories that you read as a child.

But for centuries, you realized that a mating bond was nothing but a curse.

The beauty of a mating bond, the flowers of love and romance… disguised as torture and unhappiness.

You didn’t even know, nor did you care, how long you were in that foyer, puking your lungs and stomach out. At that point, you didn’t care if Lucien had heard your retching from Elain’s room. All you wanted was for the pain to stop. Your vision blurred and your body swayed under the exhaustion you felt. You tried to stay conscious, tried to keep yourself from fainting… but you were so tired. You felt your body sway, the weariness tugging your brain to the darkness. But you caught yourself, regaining your balance with your hands and knees, fingers grasping onto the soft petals that lay beneath you, feeling them crunch underneath your grip.

Oh, how you hated it.

Hated how those flowers felt underneath your palm.

They were soft and gentle… but they grew inside of you — a curse to remind you of how devious and deceiving a mating bond was.

You had been so focused on the pain, so focused on staying awake that you barely heard the shuffling around you, how shadows covered your body, soothing your aching body. Whispers of worry passed over your subconscious, not having the energy to listen to what they were saying — was it about you? Did they take pity on your pain and suffering? You didn’t have an ounce to care. When gentle hands grasped your hands, feeling Feyre’s hands slip away from your cheeks, you whimpered, missing the warmth from your friend, only to be lulled into warm and gentle arms.

Blinking away the weariness and the tears, you looked up, your head lulling back onto broad shoulders and into beautiful violet hues.

“Rhys…” you whispered, your voice hoarse, your hands weakly reaching up to grasp his suit, bunching it up in your blood-stained hand, trying to ground yourself, to distract yourself from the pain that plagued your body.

Your body stiffened in his hold, another wave of agony threatened to pull you into subconsciousness. You whimpered, trying to gain little control over what was left of your body, one that was not dominated by torment.

You tried to focus on his words, seeing his lips open and close, as if telling you something — but the fog that penetrated your mind was so strong that it was just noise in your head. Vision swayed and black spots appeared in your vision. Your head rolled back again, your body becoming heavy in Rhys’ arms, as you felt him shift your body in his hold.

Gentle hands grasped the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at those violet hues. You blinked, trying to focus on the High Lord before a wave of darkness stormed into your mind, gently taking the pain away before lulling you into darkness — your body felt light, your mind drifting in the sea of darkness that welcomed you.

You floated in that darkness and all you hoped was that you would never wake up — would never have to succumb to the pain again. And never would have to face your mate who yearned for another.

But your wishes would never come true — they never did.

And when you had awoken, nightfall had fallen over Valeris.

Your body felt heavy, something that you had grown used to, after an intense eruption of your illness.

You lay there, in your bed, trying to attempt to lull yourself back into sleep, into that darkness that made you feel nothing. But your mind screamed at you to wake, to not drift into that darkness again.

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips, your throat burning from retching your lungs out, as you allowed your fingers to gently wiggle underneath the satin sheets, attempting to regain control over your body, feeling the cool sensation under your fingertips, grounding yourself back to the present — away from the memory of mental and physical suffering. You lay there, for seconds, minutes… hours before you opted to open your eyes. You blinked away the dried tears that crusted them, you blinked away the fatigue that made your eyelids feel heavy, as you focused on the painted ceiling above you — an image of the night sky, the one that mirrored the one outside your very windows. It usually gave you comfort, it gave you a sense of peace.

But at that very moment, all you felt was hollow.

As if you had emptied your whole self, your whole soul with those flowers, hours earlier. And now, there was nothing left of you. Your body was nothing but a greenhouse to create those painful flowers, there was no you left in the shell of your body.

It was a feeling, a moment that you would never get used to. On the feeling of being lost, that no one would be able to understand what you go through. And that no one ever would.

The door creaked open, the sound resonating loudly in your quiet room before the patter of feet entered your room.

You had no energy to look see who it was, you had no energy to do anything besides just lay there and rot, to decay into soil for those rotten flowers to grow from.

The bed dipped and you glanced over to see Feyre, that same worried expression on her features. You watched how her face twitched and shifted, trying to find the proper guise to speak to you with… but all you could see was the shadow of concern in her look. You watched as her brain turned, her lips parting before closing again — trying to figure out how to approach you.

Like you were an endangered, hurt animal.

“…How are you feeling, (Y/N)?” her lips tugged up into a simper of a smile, after a few minutes of silence, though her brows knitted together, assessing you from your supine position in bed, trying to gauge your physical and mental condition.

Dull eyes stared at her, unblinking and unmoving, and your throat itched to say something — something to smooth out those lines on her features.

But you couldn’t.

There were no words that could describe how much agony you go through… Every. Single. Time. You could never explain to Feyre, to Rhysand, or the rest of the Inner Circle… how it feels to have something so beautiful be so deadly.

No matter how many times they ask you, try to pull words out of you, or even whenever you allow Rhysand to wander your mind to understand just a bit of your pain… they would never fully understand.

All because your love was unreciprocated.

Your love and bond with Lucien Vanserra.

You had known him for centuries, ever since he had stepped into the borders of Spring Court. You had been nothing but the daughter of a low-ranking noble, one who had the privilege of serving Tamlin as a scholar in the High Lord’s castle; he had been the one to give you such a title. You had been the one who alerted your High Lord about the threat of Lucien’s brothers’ attempt at his life. You had been the one who befriended Lucien and allowed him to adjust while he was found a position in Tamlin’s court. You had been the one to stay by his side when the High Queen had ripped his eye out, been the one to nurse him back to health. You had gone through forty-nine years of the curse alongside him. And you had been the one beside him through the perils of Under the Mountain.

You had been his first friend in Spring Court.

And he had been your first love.

You had hoped and prayed for the Mother and the Gods to will your kindred spirits into a mating bond. You had hoped and prayed you gain any confidence to confess your feelings for him. But for centuries, that had been your downfall, you had been content with his presence, content with his friendship that you had believed that nothing would have changed.

But in the end, everything changed.

Feyre looked into your eyes, trying to find that part of you that still fought — fought for your life and your soul against this illness, but when she couldn’t, she sighed, willing back tears before reaching over to run her fingers through your tangled locks, trying to formulate comforting words to help you with your ordeal. But both of you knew, after knowing each other for years, there were no words that would soothe your pain.

Turning your head towards the rays of light that shone from your large windows, you focused on the soothing motion of your friend’s delicate fingers through your hair as you soaked in the night, twinkling sky of Valeris.

You had realized over the past few months you’ve lived in Night Court, that you had fallen in love with the night sky — how vast and never-ending it was over your head. It had eclipsed your previous adoration for your former home’s vast spring fields, ones that were overrun with wildflower and fresh grass — and that, now, you would happily die just laying out and staring into the twinkling night of Valeris’ skies.

Feyre had always said your sense of humor was morbid, how you would casually just bring up how you’d die as if it was a normal conversation starter.

But to you, it was.

Your illness was the only thing on your mind nowadays. Wondering when you would succumb to the pain and just die, or when the flowers finally take over your body — what would happen to you? Would you become a tree, lifeless and hollow, sprouting flowers from your mouth and nose?

It was the fear that drove your thoughts, turning them into morbid humor.

Because it was the only way you could cope with your looming doom.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, tasting the petals in your lungs, you turned back to Feyre, “…Is he still with her?”

Pain tugged on Feyre’s features and her hand grew still against your locks, hand pulling away and you could see that it was shaking.

That was the only confirmation you needed.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N)…” Feyre whispered, shifting so that she could sit closer to you, bringing your body into her warm embrace, “I had tried. Tried to force them apart with multiple different excuses, but Elain wanted to see him. She felt the tug on his end of the bond… and had grown curious... They’ve been together the whole night…”

There was nothing she could do to help soothe the ache in your chest. No comforting words, no gentle gestures. Nothing.

Tears brimmed your vision and all you could do was curse the Mother and the Cauldron.

Why couldn’t it be you?

Why couldn’t it be you that Lucien felt at the end of the golden string?

Why did the Cauldron deem that Elain was better for Lucien than you?

“(Y/N)…”

A shaky sigh escaped your lips as you looked over your shoulder, the sound of your name coming from a familiar-sounding voice — one that you had wished for centuries would call yours more often.

“Lucien…”

There stood at the threshold of your bedroom was Lucien, leaning against the open door, arms crossed over his chest. He garbed Autumn Court colors, rouge and gold material complimenting his skin tone very well.

He was a prince charming, straight out of those fairy tale books — but he wasn’t here to sweep you off your feet.

Your eyes glanced over his form, and caught the glimmering shine of the golden band around his ring finger — it was his wedding day. The ache of the mating bond resonated in your chest, one that you had grown used to and didn’t often flinch from the pain, and you gave a tiny smile, one you hoped wasn’t laced with anguish and hurt.

You had to be happy.

Happy for his sake.

“I didn’t see you at the ceremony… Feyre said you were here in your room…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the taste of petals coating your tongue, “…I wasn’t feeling too well, I watched it from up here though. It was a beautiful wedding, Lucien… I’m, happy for you.”

And you were, you were happy for him but the small part of you, wanted that happiness to be with you.

But the Mother does not grant you wishes — never for you.

Lucien stepped into your room and you felt your back stiffen slightly, shifting so you were closer to the metal railing of your balcony. You watched those heterochromatic hues stare at you, sweeping over your form as if to find the illness he had heard so much about — that russet eye assessing your form as if he could see right into your soul.

All you wanted to do was turn around, avoid his gaze — just avoid him entirely like you have been doing for the past few years.

You couldn’t be near him… not anymore.

He didn’t seek you out often anymore, and so you did the same.

For your health.

You watched as he stepped passed the doorway, his boots echoing into your room and that’s what you focused on, how he grew closer and closer to you to the point where he stood in front of you — his woody scent intermixed with honey and jasmine, of Elain’s scent.

It made you nauseous that your world spun around, you pinched your eyes shut, reaching back to grab onto the railing so you wouldn’t fall to your death. Though death seemed to be a better option than confronting Lucien.

Hands gripped your upper arms, as if to still your wavering body and your senses were overwhelmed by his — his scent, his breath, the warmth that radiated from his hands and body to your own.

It has been too much.

Pressing your hands against his chest, you shoved him away, your breath quick and sweat lining your forehead.

“Don't touch me… Please…” you begged him.

You used to love being in his presence. During peaceful times, before Amarantha’s reign, before the curse… you would always seek each other out — whether it be just basking in each other’s presence, or talking about your day to one another — your eyes would always try to look for him. He would easily just hold your hand for comfort or you'd always be welcome in his arms.

Everything was so much simpler and easier — without the cursed illness that rages in your body.

It was easier to be around him without the mating bond that connected you to him.

But now, nothing was simple. You couldn't be next to him, have him touch you so easily without the bouts of nausea and pain that came with an incomplete mating bond.

You had been able to handle it, since he had sought Elain often when he visited the River House. You avoided everywhere they may have been — the gardens, her bedroom — basically everywhere in the River House, confining yourself to your room.

The only people that would check in on you were Feyre, Mor and Rhysand — all three were the only people that knew of your condition, of your illness… and your love for Lucien.

Taking in a deep breath, the smell of florals invading your system as you felt small bursts of pain in your chest — more flowers taking over your lungs.

Eyes looked at him and you blinked twice — making sure your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. Surprise and hurt etched onto his beautiful features, his eyes staring at you as if you've done a taboo.

“What… what's wrong, (Y/N)? Why are you so distant with me lately?” his voice was full of confusion and all you wanted was to yell and scream all the pain that had been caused by the incomplete bond — but you couldn't.

He didn't know. He wasn't the reason why you were decaying slowly, it was your illness. The stupid, wretched curse placed upon you by the Mother above.

You looked at him, with so much longing and love — you wanted to convey centuries of your love for him, but it has been too late.

He had chosen his Cauldron bound mate.

A pained smile tugged on your lips as you reached up and gently caressed the scars on the left side of his face, and you watched as he leaned close to your palm — your illness flaring in your chest, you flinching slightly from the pain.

“You haven't been putting on the ointment for your face, Lucien…” you muttered, trying to avoid the topic of anything relating to your distance, to your pain, to your unrequited love for him, “It had been looking good… I hope it isn't too painful…”

Lucien’s golden eye whirlled, trying to lock gaze with your own, trying to assess what was going on with you; but you avoided his gaze, focusing on how badly your hand was trembling near him.

“… I haven't had the time to put on the ointment, and besides that had been your job for the past few centuries…” a tiny smile tugged onto his lips.

You tucked a loose strand of auburn hair behind his ear, feeling the soft lock between your fingers before you dropped your hand, gently grasping it in your other as if to stop the trembles, “You're right, it had been my job…But it looks like not anymore. Elain could do that for you… I'll—-” you swallowed the lump in your throat once more, the urge to cough up the flowers was strong.

“Lucien…”

The two looked back at your doorway to see her — Elain, dressed in white. You gave her a tight smile, glancing up at Lucien who’s facial features morphed from worry and confusion at you, to complete adoration and love for her.

Tears stung your eyes as you turned around, your back facing the two married couple.

“You should go Lucien… you're missing out on your reception…” your voice shook and you desperately hoped neither of them would notice.

You have to continue to be happy — for him.

“You should come with us, you don't have to be here alone…” his voice drifted with the wind.

Shaking your head, you looked over your shoulder at him and gave him a smile, “I’m content here…”

Hesitation tugged on his features but before he could say anymore, Elain gathered his attention and both of them slipped out of your room.

Your chest heaved and you slowly slid down to the ground, pressing you hands on those cold stone tiles and you heaved.

Heaved all the pain and anguished of a love that was never yours to begin with.

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#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #elain x lucien #lucien acotar #elucien #( .one shot : nothing but a curse ) #lucien vanserra x reader

[serawritesthings]

AS FAR AS DREAMS GO

Pairing | Arthur Morgan x fem! reader Summary | While Arthur found sanction in his dreams, you would fret about them every night. While he longed for the sweet caress of your hands, you were unknowing, fooled by his stoic facade as your dreams only brought you nightmares. Tags |  Angsty, Arthur Morgan pining for the reader, hinting at smut, intimacy, two idiots clearly in love, some sadness ensues Word Count | 10.3k A/N | Hello, lovelies! It's my second-ever fanfic; I hope you like it! Also, I got carried away, so it’s quite long (sorry)… It's loosely based on the mission with Uncle when you rob a wagon, but I have my spin on it. It’ll work more with the story this way. If you want, it can fit in with my recent fanfic about Arthur, but maybe set earlier in their “relationship.” ;D THANKS FOR READING!♡ Part two

Arthur felt you in his sleep last night. 

He remembered the caress of your fingers on his icy skin, leaving scorching traces of blazing fire in its wake as your hearts collided and molded into his deepest longing. Like a strange mirror, it portrayed you as you always were: tender and loving, fiery but forgiving. But it wasn’t you; instead, it was a thought of you. Like when walking down the street and catching a glance of a person that seemed familiar, but with another look, was someone else entirely. Only in his dream-filled sleep could he allow himself the sweet torture of your presence, for in those moments, he didn’t have to think of the consequences his thoughts would bring. His dreams of you overtook his mind, whether he was willing or not. For in his mind, you had carved a path so profound that it would be etched into his senses until his last breath, clouding his sanity, never again being able to differentiate dreams from reality.

Oh, how you held him in your embrace. It made him long for the sun to disappear under the horizon once more when the warm springs of light found him in the chilly dawn. He could still feel traces of your touch in the short period between sleep and consciousness. For a brief moment, it made him question whether it was a dream or if his deepest desire had come true. You were his.

But he would wake up and find that the warmth he held in his hands had dissipated, like hot ash falling between his fingers, making Arthur attempt to dig up what remained of you from the ground. He was left aching with no relief, cold and shuddering in the chilly morning, standing over the remains of your ghost. It was like his heart had been burned with it, only coming alive once more when you returned to him at midnight.

But for you, dreams had trouble finding you at night, if they even found you at all. You could never escape reality to find sanction in the warm blanket of imagination. When dreams did reach you, memories replaced fantasy and washed over like cold, freezing water. You would fret and worry, tossing around wishing you could melt into the sheets and float to where you could become someone else. There was a time when the dreams would bring you solace, whether it was a conjecture of old memories or what your younger self would conjure up. But that was a long time ago, and you find that the older you get, those dreams drift further away. So, you had nowhere to escape, nothing to ease the hardship that daytime brought. So, sleeping is just a blink of an eye nowadays to make the night pass faster.

After a sleepless night, you sat by a tree overlooking the vast landscape. It’s quiet between the trees this morning. It brought a sense of calm to the otherwise quite hectic place. Although chilly, the wind carried a frisk waft, clearing your head. You enjoyed these mornings and often found yourself awake before the others. It’s a habit you picked up through the years, though a younger you would complain about having to rise that early in the morning. It felt like the world was entirely your own. It is even calmer in times like this, where the residents consist mainly of women when the men are out. It brought a sense of comfort to you, for they were the ones that had been kind and welcoming to you. Unfortunately, your time alone didn’t last long, for you have learned that people rose relatively early here. But the time you did get for yourself gave you a chance to ponder the time that had passed up until now.

Sean, a peculiar man, had recently been brought back from being held captive by bounty hunters soon to be transported up the Upper Montana River to a federal prison. You had immensely worried for him, finding his presence over the last few months to lighten your sometimes rather gloomy mood with his ridiculous shenanigans. Some had been unsure if going back for him posed as a good idea, but the thought of leaving him behind saddened you and many others. Somehow, you had managed to convince Arthur to lend a hand, with considerable help from Javier You knew Arthur cared for Sean, even though he’d probably rather die before admitting it.

When you first got wrapped up with these people, you admit that Arthur scared the living daylight out of you. There was a certain air around him that exuded strength and authority, never stopping short of resorting to violence. You were no stranger to what kind of man he was, what they were; neither were you of their business, but you were apprehensive of them more often than not. The womenfolk had told you countless times that Arthur could be immensely ruthless when needed and had done things that would leave your blood running cold. And you didn’t doubt them. Behind those calculating eyes and quiet demeanor lay a long life of violence and hardship. You were sure of it.

That’s why you felt stuck when it came to him. Despite all this, he was a kind man. However, he didn’t speak much when it concerned you. More so, he worked hard, and you rarely spotted him in camp. Freezing your guts out in those mountains was the longest time you had seen his face consistently. You couldn’t do more than respect him, and although apprehensive around him, you had found yourself doing it less because of his dangerous aura and more because he made chills run down your back and a warmth spread in your stomach like wildfire when he set his eyes on you. It wasn’t a fire that spread fast, destroying everything in its path and bringing misery. Instead, a fire dispersed like slow poison, mingling with your blood as it flowed through your body, claiming you bit by bit until you surrendered to its ever-so-prolonged heat.

“I heard you begged for the boys to come get me!” Time had flown by quickly, and soon, you heard the clanking of pots and the sound of steel against the wood. Sean had suddenly spoke up as he neared you, his Irish accent lacing his words heavily. Although you had missed him and didn’t want to leave him to an insufferable fate, you hadn’t forgotten his teasing. He knew very well he was exaggerating, but he wouldn’t let go of the chance to bury you in his flamboyant personality.

“That’s quite the exaggeration, Sean.” A small smile spread on your lips. “Don’t make me regret standing in favor of your return.” A snort left the red-headed man at your words. Pursing your lips, you put your gaze on him as he stood beside your seated form with his arms crossed, gazing out onto the open landscape of Horseshoe Overlook.

“Ah, how I missed ya big words and harmless threats.” You could hear a few snickers at his statement from the people gathering around the campfire. A blush covered your cheeks. You had a reputation for sounding smart sometimes, and people did not stop at anything to tease you, especially the man in front of you.

 “Did ya miss me?” A cheeky grin grew on his punchable face as he raised his eyebrows, expectantly leaning closer to you.

A scoff left your lips, but you didn’t have time to answer him as the sound of hooves drew near. A certain dread always filled you at the sound. Even though you knew it most likely was someone returning to camp, you could never be too sure what state they would be in. You often worked alongside Ms. Grimshaw to help when someone got hurt, having extensive knowledge of tending to wounds and other bodily harm. It worried you, for the possibility of not being able to help someone would someday appear. Like that poor man, Davey. Luckily, you had managed to take care of Marston well enough. But he did look awful these days with that scar adorning his face; there was no denying that.

You and Sean looked up as the horses raced through the path among the trees that led to your whereabouts. You could see Dutch among them, with Arthur and Hosea. Scowls were apparent on their faces as their loud voices broke the solitude in the air, seeming to argue viciously about something.

“What’s that about?” You questioned the man beside you. “God knows, but I’d stay outta it if I were you.” He gave you a knowing look and slouched away to bother someone else. Your curiosity was piqued, but you let it be for now, raising to help Mary-Beth wash some foul shirts she was struggling with—damned Reverend.

The day continued, mindless chatter filling the space between you and the girls as you worked under Ms. Grimshaw’s sharp, watchful eyes. She had been in a terrible mood today, so her reign was relentless.  

“Do you think she would be mad if we threw the clothes from the cliff edge?” A grumpy Tilly spoke up, her hands relentless as she scrubbed the fabric that never seemed to get cleaner. Sadly, it only became filthier the more she worked on it. Karen laughed as she raised her eyebrows, a mocking expression on her face. “Oh no, that won’t do for great Ms. Grimshaw. She would probably throw you right along with it.” Their laughter cut through the air, contagious as you smiled at their exchange, glancing up to see if Ms. Grimshaw had her eyes on you. But instead, your eyes found a pair of blue ones staring at you when you looked up—the brief moment left you unsure where to put your gaze after the contact broke. 

You cleared your throat as you spoke quietly. “Grimshaw means well.” They groaned at you, rolling their eyes. “Sure, Miss Righteous.” They laughed again as you joined them. Before you could hinder yourself, your eyes gazed up at Arthur again, finding him staring at you again; a particular fervency lay deep within them. However, he directed his eyes away from you hastily, like you caught him doing something he shouldn’t have. Seemingly tense, the man grabs a match from his pocket, lighting its phosphorus tip from his booth’s worn leather soles. When he took a drag, he peeked at you again, his head bowed, hiding under his worn hat. 

Dutch and Hosea were in a heated discussion, with Arthur listening in languidly. It probably related to what had transpired before they returned to camp. Although more collected now, there was still a tension in the air. By your observations, they were the “three main men” around here. They had been holding together most of their lives, naturally giving them authority over the gang. When they talked, you listened. Simple as that.

You touched your face discreetly, wondering if you had gotten soot from tending the fire on your cheeks again. What else could be the reason for Arthur’s stare? How embarrassing that would be. He made you somewhat uncertain already; you couldn’t possibly handle his mocking adding to that.

“I wonder what they’re talking about?” The question you asked left the girls perking their heads up and gazing at you before following your gaze, looking at the men arguing. “Yeah, it seems pretty serious,” Mary-Beth said, curious about their exchange. They had been going at it for quite a while now as evening drew closer. You observed them with intrigue. That’s when Hosea’s eyes planted on you, beckoning you over with his finger. He looked cunning as he settled leisurely in his chair, content. You gazed questingly at the girls as they shrugged their shoulders, looking as confused as you.

Dusting off your skirt, you rose from the small barrel you used as a makeshift chair and approached the men. You gave them an unsure smile, still confused, wondering what they could want to bring you into their apparent disagreement. 

“Well, we have a perfect actress with us, gentlemen. I’m sure she could charm our seemingly formidable friends.” Hosea patted your arms as your feet shifted under you when he spoke up. What could they possibly be talking about? Dutch was gazing at you indescribably as Arthur stared at the table. His arms crossed, not meeting your gaze.

“Well, her damsel in distress act has saved us before.” A low chuckle left Dutch as he drummed his fingers on the wooden table.

“May I ask what you’re talking about?” As the question left you, you could see Arthur raise his head to watch you. His expression was blank, but his eyes seemed sullen, the smoke from his cigarette filling the air as he took a drag. 

“Uncle’s received a tip of a supply wagon passing through carrying a payroll, lookin’ to be unguarded. They want you to help us.” His voice was quiet as he observed you, his accent thick. You had helped them on some jobs before, although only smaller ones since you weren’t as acquainted with the work as the others. You mainly had accompanied Hosea on his schemes, finding that both of you had quite the same proficiency in depicting a role. Although you had taken up some theatrics when you were a small child, you had never imagined you would use them to deceive people. You found Hosea to be a spiritful figure despite his age. When thinking about it, he reminded you immensely of your father. He was too stubborn to let himself grow old, and his spark for living and refusal to take on the habits of an older man made him seem immortal to you. But he wasn’t, which became evident to you the older you had gotten.

“Of course, if I can be of help.” You offered them a small smile, surprised they decided on you, not someone else. It didn’t seem scary for you; you would, of course, be accompanied. And they knew what they were doing, which had become apparent to you since they always managed to get out of trouble. Compared to some of the things they did, stealing from a wagon seemed mild. And with Arthur accompanying, you knew you would feel completely safe.

“S’not a good idea.” The words that left Arthur made you furrow your brows. What could be the reason for his doubt? Some parts of you understood that you might not be as proficient as the other women, but as you mentioned, playing the damsel in distress was right up your alley. And you already felt as if you were a burden around here.

He avoided your offended look as he continued, pointing his finger at Hosea. “I ain’t lettin’ h-anyone get hurt just cause Uncle got told a tip from some sad, half-witted lowlife! Now, I ain’t against looking up the lead, but we handle it without the theatrics an’ all, Hosea.” 

You were about to speak up, but Dutch did before you could. “It would give you the advantage to have someone stop the wagon; that way, you have the man unguarded and on the ground.” He gave you a look-over. You leaned slightly away from his calculating gaze, his squinting eyes examining you.

 “Yeah, that’ll do; let Uncle prove his worth this time. Bring Bill and Charles with ya.” With that said, he stood up from his chair and nodded at you with a beaming grin, and sauntered off. Wonder what Molly saw in him. Often, you found him to lean towards arrogancy, the way he let everyone else do his dirty work. But they all seemed to listen to him, which meant what he did gave some positive outcome. 

“Trust me, Arthur, she’ll do good. And she might make up for your dumbness.” As Hosea’s chuckling figure slowly disappeared, you gazed curiously at Arthur, who was scoffing, staring after the man. 

“I know how to handle myself, Arthur. And I know you know that too.”

“Sure.” He dragged out the word, voice mirroring his now grumpy mood.

“So?” You raised your eyebrows. He gave you a questioning look. “What’s the matter?” You asked. 

He let out a long breath. “It ain’t safe. A random tip could be risky. It probably means someone else heard ’bout it, too, if the man was willing to give up the information. Likewise, it could be a setup. We don’t know, do we?” You leaned on the table before him, placing your hand to stead his bouncing knee. You knew what he meant. But every mission was risky, especially these days when you had law coming at you from what appeared to be every direction. Despite this, you had to do it to survive, and you wanted to show them you were capable.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to find out.” Your voice was mild, an undertone of understanding lacing your words. Even if it were Uncle’s idea, it would fall on Arthur either way if things went wrong, as it always did. And you knew he cared, even though he never showed it. Or think he didn’t show it.

He was about to speak, but a loud voice broke through your conversation. “Gotten over me that fast, has she? Already moving on to the gang’s grouch? I’m hurt. Here I walked around thinkin’ you missed me!” You gave Arthur a last look, squeezing his knee to gaze at Sean as he dramatically held his hands to his heart. Laughing at his antics, you stood up. “I’m not sure anyone missed you when you were gone, right Arthur?” You strolled off with the Irish man following you, not noticing the wistful, prolonged stare the blue-eyed man had set on you since you touched his knee with your delicate hand, the feeling of your skin leaving a fire trail he couldn’t douse.

-

“That’s it, Ada.” The grey coat of the Andulasian was silky under your palm as you graced her sun-warmed coat, giving her a carrot you stole from Pearson’s wagon as you distracted him with your mindless chatter the following evening. Her ears perked up at your soft voice, munching. She nickered contentedly as her mane blew under the frisk breeze that wafted around you.

“You know, you should’ve settled for a faster horse instead of an Andalusian. She’ll slow you down.” A gruff voice broke out in the otherwise calm spot as the sound of spurs clanking was accompanied by heavy footsteps. You looked up at the man, noting how he leaned lazily against the empty hitching post and put his hands on his belt. It surprised you, it did. He didn’t usually instigate a conversation with you.

“She’s fast enough, my Ada. And she’s family now, so.” You voiced your thoughts softly, hearing his statement from many others when Arthur, Dutch, and Micha returned to the desolated mining town with two horses and a crying Sadie up in Colter. The horse piqued your interest when you set your eyes on her, and Arthur kindly let you keep her for the time being, planning on selling her when they got the chance. Your disagreement was apparent, and not putting up much of a fight; he let you keep her. Hosea, too, opposed it when he saw the mare, but your stubbornness made him laugh. I’ll let you figure it out on your own then, he had told you.

“Well, at least we’ll know you’re safe if you get attacked by a snake.” A low chuckle left Arthur, still finding you’re choice of a companion foolish. 

“Oh, are you making jokes now?” You looked at him as he straightened and strode towards you. “Cause if you are, it’s not very funny.” You backed away slightly, not used to him being so close. He put his gloved hand on Ada’s soft coat and patted her softly. A waft of smoke reached your nose as he stood next to you, coupled with the smell of a man who did hard labor. But amidst that, there was something else, something warmer and manlier. “Well, she’s real pretty, that’s for sure.” His gaze went down to you before he directed his gaze, fastening the tie strap you didn’t secure well enough.

You rarely saw Arthur with his hat off, his hair usually peaking out from under the well-worn leather. But he didn’t wear it this morning, and you wondered why. It blew softly in the wind, a slight beard adorning his face. It fit him well, adding to his roguish appearance. He was pretty handsome.

You didn’t realize you were observing him as he focused on your not-so-good job putting on the saddle. He didn’t seem as on edge as usual, the constant frown gone and replaced with a serene expression. Arthur didn’t look as frightening this way when he was relaxed, although his advantage in height and bulky form made up for it. 

“Be careful today, yeah?” He gave you a curt nod when you replied that you would, walking over to his horse. You saw Charles walking in your direction, greeting you with a smile when he got close. 

“We should head off as soon as possible; I’m worried we might miss the wagon.” His voice was calm, as it tended to be often. Sometimes, it felt like Charles was a shadow as he kept quiet, primarily to himself. He rarely got into trouble and handled things with a clear mind. You could but only like him, finding his solitude comforting and much like your own. 

When Bill and Uncle appeared, you hoisted yourself into the saddle, giving Ada a soft pat before setting her in motion. Uncle had told you it was just up the road from camp, near the crossroads where an old, ruined church remained. “You ride first and hitch up the horse in the trees behind the church. We will stop near the crossroads to look for the wagon passing through as you get them to stop and get down on the ground.” Arthur said calmly, pointedly looking at you. 

As you rode off, Arthur stared after you as you disappeared between the trees. The worry had settled in his stomach when Hosea brought up the idea for you to tag along. He wasn’t opposed to you doing your share in the gang, but bringing you on such a spontaneous mission made him uneasy.

“She’ll be fine, Arthur, and we’ll have our eyes on her the whole time.” Charles’s hushed voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he secured his gun on the saddle. Even though Charles seemed calm, a slight worry still tainted his words. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s just…” 

“I understand.” They sat in their saddles, heading out after Uncle’s lead. 

“You know, after this, you will realize how much I do for this gang. Looking up this lead has not been an easy feat, gentlemen.” He looked proud in his seat, bringing his hands up like he already had secured the money. “Sure, Uncle, drinking and talking to some bum who just might be lying to you is exactly what this gang needs right now.” Uncle just scoffed at Arthur. 

“You know, you should be nicer to me, Arthur, and you will be after you realize this will bring us a well-deserved fortune.”

“Yeah? And what are you going to spend it on? More booze?”

-

The church where you said goodbye to Ada was no short of run-down. Missing planks, bottles with an unnamed liquid inside, and cigarettes everywhere made you wonder what kind of people sought shelter here. You didn’t have trouble finding it because it wasn’t too far from camp like you were told. Trying not to think about leaving Ada in such an environment, you wandered towards the road you were told they would pass through. 

‘

You hid behind a tree, shielding you from anyone coming down the path. You hoped Uncle was correct; otherwise, things could go south fast. No stranger would let a hurt woman linger on the road; likewise, they wouldn’t let her stumble to the seat with a hurt leg, meaning you would get the driver on the ground. Simple but effective. You only hoped Uncle had been correct, that this would be easy. 

Taking Karen’s advice to loosen a few buttons on your shirt, you revealed some of your cleavage. Make him more willing, quoting her words. The skin now exposed glows in the sunlight from the light layer of sweat coating your skin from the heat. You smile to yourself. This’ll do just fine. You run your hands on the ground to dirty up your skirt like you had been crawling in the dirt. You didn’t want to think about how hard it would be to get it out of the fabric since you likely had to clean it.

Peaking up from the tree, you could spot Arthur, Uncle, Bill, and Charles from a distance, gazing upon your spot as masks adorned their faces. Who were they trying to fool? They looked ominous where they sat on their horses. God, if the driver got the slightest look at them, he would run the other way, and the operation would be over. You felt your hands grow clammy at the suspense as your shoulders tensed, sitting on the ground as you leaned against the tree. 

You took your face in your hands, massaging your temple. “Okay, wagon approaches; I frantically run out from the woods, screaming at the driver to help. He stops and steps down on the ground to ask me what’s going on, hopefully worried. I tell him I’m getting chased by a maniac, and the others will handle the rest.” You breathed out as your heart beat wildly, voicing your plan aloud. “Easy peasy, right?”

That’s when you heard it, the crunch of the wheels rolling in the ground in the distance growing louder. Taking a deep breath, you ruffled your hair slightly and leaped out from the tree, running towards the road like satan himself was after you.

“Mister, please!” Your voice shrieked out, startling the man. With an exasperated expression, you stumbled down after tripping on your skirt, getting dirtier from the mud covering the path. Holding your hand on your leg, you gazed up at the men above you who looked at you alarmed. His face was adorned with small eyes and wrinkles that depicted his old age as he had to squint to see you. It made you question why such an old man drove a fortune alone but pushed the thoughts away. “You have to help me!”

“Miss, what’s happened to ya?” Immediately, he slowed the horses, stepping down from the wagon to inspect the predicament before him. He looked friendly, just like his tone was kind, and worry filled his eyes as he jogged towards you. Kind, but foolish.

“Some men trailed me, oh some god-awful men trailed me, and when I cut through the woods with my horse, she freaked out and bucked me off!” Panic settled in your voice as you looked pleadingly at the man holding your shoulder. “Please, mister, my leg hurts awfully bad; I think it’s broken.” Tears filled your voice, choking up the words leaving your mouth. His hands found your shoulders as he kneeled. “Come here, Miss. We’ll get you home, yeah?” You nodded at him with pleading eyes.

The air around you was calm, and the wind blew softly, contrasting your shrill voice in the early morning as he helped you stand up. With your weight on his shoulders, he didn’t even have the time to turn around before the cold metal of a pistol met the back of his head.

The pistol cocked. Frozen beside you, the hands supporting you grew still as the blood on his face drained, eyes staring into yours like he could see Arthur behind him in the reflection of your eyes.

“Let’s not do that. Why don’t you step away from the woman and throw your gun on the ground?” Arthur’s cold but calm demeanor frightened even you, looking different from the man you were used to. “Real slow now.” His eyes found yours, staring from under his hat as he spoke. A chill went down your spine, now understanding why he had a reputation for coming off as frightening. Behind him, Charles was rummaging through the wagon as Uncle and Bill stood behind him on their horses, acting as lookouts as their rifles were pointed at the man beside you. 

“Listen, I work for Kerosene and Tar, Leviticus Cornwall, alright?” His voice was shaking, but he still tried to scare the men. Bold. You could hear Bill curse in the distance, the name familiar to them. Judging from their reaction, it wasn’t good news, and the anxiety rose in you like wildfire again as you tried to get away from the man holding you, his presence now suffocating.

“Hey, step away from her old man.” Arthurs’s voice grew firmer as the words rumbled in his chest, pushing the gun tighter against his temple when the man grabbed your shoulders harder. When you turned your head towards the elderly man, he looked as frightened as you, shocked by how the situation had transpired.

“Hey, Arthur, I got the money!” Charle’s satisfied voice made you both look up, but as you did, the sight of horses charging towards you in the distance made your eyes widen. Your breath stuck in your throat at the picture, your pulse rising as you struggled to control your quivering palms.

“Aw, shit. Uncle!” Arthurs voiced his annoyance at the downturn of the situation as he hit the elderly man with his gun, his body falling limp beside you as he held his head in his hands. Shocked, you looked at his squirming body as he writhed on the ground. Before you could shake away the shock that nailed your feet shut, you felt a pair of arms shake your petrified form.

“Get your head straight girl!” Amidst the loud sound of hooves filling your ears from every direction, Arthur shouted at you as he grabbed the horn on the saddle and hopped onto his horse. Sitting tall, he placed his arms under yours so he could lift you. Now seated before him, the sudden motion made your head spin as the world around you stayed a constant blur.

“Bill! We’ll split up, make it harder for them to track us. You go with Charles and Uncle to the left, and we’ll go straight! Stay out of camp for awhile!” His shouting brought you back to reality, the sound of bullets heading towards you growing louder the clearer your head got. Bill shouted in agreement as he cursed loudly and took off hastily, rifle in his hands as the three escaped the scene. Making a clicking noise, Arthur urged the horse to move, the force pushing your body forward from the sudden speed. The severity of the situation dawned on you when you glanced back at the riders following you. Your heart beat heavily against your chest; the number of men chasing after you could only be likened to a whole army. 

“There’s so many!” The wind wisped your hair around you as you flew through the country. You glanced back at Arthur. “Yeah, I know! But I think the others got the worst of it!” His statement did nothing to calm your racing nerves as bullets rushed past you. Boadicea’s muscles moved fervently under you as Arthur spurred her on. Fast didn’t seem like fast enough. The pace painted the world blurry as you 

rode on for a long time, the skies beginning to turn dark.

After a long while following the road, Arthur steered off it and up a hill into a tightly grown forest. “I think we’re losing them!” Your voice flew in the air as the wind in your ears whistled when you looked back. Almost stumbling on a rock, you both flew forward as Arthur’s heavy weight fell on you momentarily. A choked sound left your throat as the air left you, and you heard him curse out a sorry behind you. Recovering quickly, Boadicea picked up the pace once again as you gazed behind you, trying to see if they had gained on you.

Why in the world were there so many? Maybe Arthur was right, and it was a setup. After a while, the sound of hooves slowly grew distant, the only noise being your heavy breaths intermingling as you felt the adrenalin still run through your veins. 

“Shit, Arthur. What the hell was that?”

“That is why you don’t trust Uncle’s shit plans!” His voice was sharp like glass as he realized he was right like he usually was. “Foolish-minded fools, the lot of ’em!” He voiced his thoughts angrily. He was tense behind you, every move filled with a raging fury as he swiftly urged the horse forward.

“What do we do now?” You voiced your concerns worryingly. You had no idea where you were; the place was unfamiliar. It had grown chilly as the sun disappeared from the blue sky, the cold wind now apparent as the danger dissipated, and your body grew aware. 

“We find somewhere to hide until the next morning; they’ll probably be out looking for us, seeing as they think we have their money.” You hoped the others were well, even though you weren’t entirely too happy with how things had transpired. If Arthur wasn’t lying, they got the worst of it. You wanted to voice your concerns but decided to keep it to yourself for the time being; not entirely too sure that’s what he wanted to hear right now.

“I know a place where we can hide. It’ll be cold, but we’ll be safe. For now.” Unbeknownst to you, he glanced down at your shivering form. 

After a while, you could feel your breath calm down enough for you to relax slightly. Although you were still sitting up tensely, aware of the position you were in. Arthur was a big man, towering behind you, almost embracing you as his arms held the reigns at your sides. The warmth radiating from him was immense, and the softness of his scout jacket softened the impact of your back to his chest as the horse galloped. It did make you somewhat uncomfortable being that close to the man, but as time passed and the colder the air got, you found yourself sheepishly leaning backward to stop the chills running through your body. You hoped he wouldn’t mention it or, worse, push you away from him. 

The top of your head only reached his jaw when you glanced up at him, leaning your head back slightly. He was focused on the road ahead; eyes squinted angrily as he still grumbled bitterly under his breath. The corners of your mouth raised slightly before you curled your lips under your teeth, turning to look forward. He really was a grump sometimes.

Leaning forward, you ran your fingers through Boadicea’s mane as you patted her neck to try to calm your nerves. “You know, I’ve never been good at riding horses, so thank god you’re with me. No coordination whatsoever.” You laughed, trying to distract yourself from being chased through the now-dark country. Even though you couldn’t see them anymore, they were probably still on your lead. “We should be lucky we didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere. When we stumbled over that rock, I thought we were don-”

“That’s the place over there.” His gruff voice interrupted your nervous blabbering.

Your head perked up at his mention. It wasn’t much to cheer for, run-down seeming like a compliment compared to this place. Although still standing, it looked like it would fall apart if someone as much as touched it. But it had a door, and the windows were barred, protecting it from the winds rummaging through the landscape. I guess that counts for something.

“You sure they won’t find us here?” A gust of smoke from the cold surrounded you when you spoke. Logically, if they had followed your direction, they would probably have gone rummaging through every abandoned house they encountered on the way. The only answer you got was a grunt, and you almost rolled your eyes at him. What splendid company you would have for the rest of the night. Although, he had been right about the whole ordeal, so it wasn’t hard for you to see where he came from. If your previous thought had been correct, all of this would fall on Arthur. With him being in higher authority in the gang, he also held more responsibility and had to make sure the plans went along smoothly.

As you approached the cabin hastily, he stopped the horse in a quick motion, the dirt flying in the air as it surrounded you both. Hopping down from the saddle, he patted Boadicea gently on the neck. “Come ‘ere.” His hands went around your waist as he hoisted you down from the tall animal, fingers squeezing subtly around your waist as he steadied you on the ground, avoiding your gaze. 

“Why don’t you hitch her up by the door? I’ll have a quick look in the cabin.” As he pointed to Boadicea, you gave him a curt nod as you did what he asked. “Will she be alright out here all night?” You blurted out as you fastened the rope against one of the planks in the fence surrounding the cabin’s front porch. A distant reassurance from Arthur could be heard as he ensured you would be alone and undisturbed. Giving the animal one last pat, you stepped up the wooden stairs, wrapping your arms around you. Since the sun had disappeared from the sky, it was dark inside, and your eyes found it troubling to adapt since the moon didn’t light up the room. 

The house was eerie. Furniture still adorned the chipped, wooden planks with thick dust covering the various surfaces. The air was cold, with the smell of wood mingling with the ever-so-slightly scent of moldy food left on the plates. It looked like the people that had been living here had just walked away during their dinner.

“I wonder who lived here.” you thought out loud. Your voice was barely a whisper like the people were still sleeping upstairs. Although muted by the carpet, the floorboards creaked when you stepped inside, the fabric now muddy from your shoes. Arthur was shaking the planks nailed to the windows from the inside, making sure they would stay in their place

“Come on. I’ll keep a lookout for a while, see if I can hear them passing by. Get some rest.” He pointed you toward a botched chair in the corner. It didn’t look like the most comfortable chair, but it would have to do for the night. Not that you had a choice anyway.

“Are you sure? I can accompany you if you want.” Your words grew warm at his selfness, looking at him with a prolonged gaze as he reached to take off his jacket. He held it towards you and, as he secured his hat, bowed his head as he headed out the door.

“Nah, get some rest, alright?” You were left in the darkness as the door closed, trembling from the shivers racking through you with the heavy jacket hanging from your grasp.

-

What the hell was he thinking? He daydreamed about you like he had every right to imagine you that way when you rode with him. Hell, you would probably spit in his face if you knew that most of his thoughts involved you. What a sad man you are, Arthur Morgan, thinking you could ever get your hands on her. Pure and warm, that’s what you were. You were too good. Your care extended further than his ever had, treating him like he deserved your kindness. Deserved you. He kept his distance from you, only speaking to you when necessary to try to make you understand that he wasn’t a good man—but being as close to you as he had during the ride shut off his brain entirely.

The guilt ran through him as he sat on the porch, leaning against the door. Being in the same space as you proved to be too much for him now, the smell of your hair still clouding his mind. Shit, it was impossible to keep you out of his mind. Raising from the coldness of the ground, he swept his hands over his face, leaning his arms to rest against the fence as he observed into the distance. The place was surrounded by trees, somewhat deep in the woods, quite far from the path. He hoped it was far enough, not wanting to put you in more danger than he already had. 

Irritation was still running through him at the outcome of the situation. He knew this would happen. At least they got away with the money. But if Cornwall’s men managed to get ahold of Bill, Uncle, and Charles, it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t feel up for a rescue mission right now; they had far more complicated things to think about.

-

As you sat in the chair for a while, wrapped in the oversized jacket Arthur lent you, your eyes became familiar with your surroundings. Finally, you could breathe out, although the stress from the predicament you just got yourself into raced through your body, making it hard for you to rest. It was dark and cold, and you missed the comforts of falling asleep in your bedroll at the lookout, surrounded by the women’s quiet whispering. Although, you felt safe enough knowing Arthur was outside in case anyone would stumble upon you two. 

There was a large table in the middle of the room where Arthur had placed his satchel and some benches adorning the walls by the stove. A fireplace was by one of the walls with various portraits perched on it, along with some candles and other trinkets. Yawning, you stepped up from the seat, wrapping the jacket tighter around you as you stepped towards the wall, examining the portraits. You wondered who they were as you ran your nimble fingers over the dusty surface, a stoic face now starting to show. You laughed slightly under your breath; the man looked downright horrified as the woman beside him smiled warmly. Was that his wife? You turned the frame, squinting so you could read the writing. 

“Ms.Hevett with son, Mr.Hevett.” Hmm, they both appeared to be very old. Mamas-boy maybe? You giggled again, putting your hand over your mouth to dull the sound. Returning the portrait, you glanced around. Oh, maybe Arthur had a match to light the candle! Well, of course, he had a match; he smoked every chance he got.

You tiptoed towards the door as it creaked when you pushed it open quietly. You called out for Arthur gently, seeing him leaning on the fence. His head turned to yours, alarmed, looking behind you as his hand rested on the gun in his holster. “You alright?” The words flew out from his mouth as he tensed, walking towards you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wondered if you have a match.” He looked at you for a moment, then furrowed his brows as he grabbed the edge of the door. “A match? Why? You don’t smoke.” 

You glanced sheepishly at him now, realizing you might be bothering him. “Well, there’s a candle in there, and I just, I, would be more comfortable if it wasn’t so dark. That’s all.” He scoffed slightly at your words. “You supposed to be sleepin’; what does it matter if it’s dark?” He asked you in disbelief. You only pursed your lips, staring at him as the moonlight reflected on his face. A sigh left him as he beckoned you inside, giving one last glance around the outside of the cabin. 

“This candle right here. If only we had some firewood, we could also warm the place. See, there’s a fireplace! I imagine the house was cozy when it wasn’t run-down.” You babbled as he followed behind you, reaching for a match in his bag. As he did at camp yesterday, he lights the match at the sole of his boot. Immediately, it casts the room in a warm blanket. It didn’t feel so eerily anymore, and the flame flickered around you softly.

He raised his brows as he spoke. “First, you want me to light this damned candle, and now you want me to go chop us up some wood?” He sounded more amused than his earlier cranky mood, but still, you looked at him unamused. “It was just an observation, alright?”

He chuckled lightly as he looked at you, observing you for a few seconds before speaking up. “You okay to sleep now?” His rough voice spoke the words as he motioned to leave again.

“Um, sure. Arthur, did you know a mother and her son had been living here? It said so on the portrait. I wonder what happened to them?” The words left you hurriedly, looking to say something to make him stay with you for a while longer. It was hard to explain, but you felt safer with him. In here. With you. 

You pointed towards the portrait. He glanced at you shortly before stepping back into the room. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been here a few times.” His answer was short.

“Oh.”

The air was stuffy, and the tension grew thick as you looked at each other. Neither of you knew what to say since Arthur always seemed to get tongue-tied around you, and you were unsure of how to converse with him. You draped the jacket even closer, staring at the floorboards.

“Ya still cold?” He startled you slightly, your head perking up at his words. “Umm, yeah, a little, but the jacket’s helping… so.” He nodded at you, grabbing the belt with his hands, tightening his lips together, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked like he was expecting you to say something, waiting for the words to leave your mouth.

“Oh, sorry, you’re probably cold as well. Here you can have it back.” You stepped towards him, the jacket slipping off your shoulder. 

“No, no. You take it, I’m used to it, alright?” His words were kind and selfless, and you felt terrible for not bringing your own jacket. Of course, he was cold; it was freezing in here. Knowing he cared enough for you to put your comfort before his own made your heart beat slightly faster. 

Once again, he went to exit the door and leave you in the empty house, but the moment he opened it, the words left you before you could stop them.

“Will you stay in here?” It was silent as the raindrops started to fall outside, pattering on the roof as the tension grew suffocatingly thick. Glancing at you with his head bowed, he cleared his throat. 

“It’s just I’ll feel safer with you in here. That’s all.” Feeling the need to explain your sudden outburst, you felt a blush rise at the humiliating situation. He probably thought you were childish, finding your words annoying and demanding.

Giving you a curt nod, he closed the door behind him, pushed one of the side tables against the door, and locked it.

“It won’t rain in, so don’t worry. Now,” He leaned back on the chair by the table in the middle of the room, putting one leg over his other to lean the ankle against it, taking his gun out of the holster and cleaning the dirty metal. “Get some sleep. We’ll set out in the morning.”

You listened to him this time and sat on the chair, bringing your legs up towards your chest as you closed your eyes. You knew it would. be hard for sleep to find you, but you still gave it a chance. 

-

You were wrong; you were able to sleep. But it didn’t last you very long, for the cold had seeped through both skin and bones, leaving you with tremors running through your already shaking body. You could still hear the thunder in the distance and the heavy rain splattering against the wooden roof. You opened your eyes, finding another pair staring right at you. You felt your stomach turn, the display of emotions running deep in his eyes as he observed you. His legs were spread wide where he sat, keeping sight of both you and the door in case someone barged through. The flickering of the faint light hit his eyes, painting his otherwise blue eyes a darker tone. It felt like a dream.

“Alright, that’s enough.” A heavy sigh left the man as he stood up. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked over to you. Grabbing under your arms, he lifted you as he sat on the chair. Gently, he placed you on his lap, with your head resting on his neck and legs draped over his thighs. 

“Jesus, woman, you’re freezing.” As he talked lowly, you could feel his voice rumble in his chest, the feeling soothing against you.

Oh, darn it, he was warm. How could he be so warm? No thoughts except warming your freezing frame made you wrap your arms around his waist, the thick jacket covering both of you. You felt his hands run over your arms, trying to warm you up as you moved against him, relishing in the heat from his body as you nuzzled your cheeks in the crook of his neck.

And finally, you fell asleep. 

-

“Arthur.” Jolting awake, Arthur’s eyes widened in the candle-lit room. His whole body tensed up as he gazed down at you, alarmed. 

Seemingly unhurt, a worried expression was on your beautiful face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked you. Shushing him, you placed your hand on his bicep carefully. 

“You were mumbling in your sleep. Is everything alright?” Your eyes were tired but warm as he blinked down at you, now noticing his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you towards him. “Yeah, ’m alright.” His words were low, choked at the sight of you staring this tenderly at him. This was a dream, he told himself.

As his arms relaxed around you slightly, you wrapped yours tighter around his neck. He was so suffocating, his scent surrounding you from every direction as you basked in its grasp. His eyes were intense, the now sullen look he always carried vulnerable, as the folds around his eyes evened out. It still felt like you were in a dream, and you longed for it never to end. Good dreams never found you, but now you had it in your hands as the comforting blanket cloaked around you like Arthur was wrapped around your scorching body.

No words were spoken as you gasped slightly, nimble hands stroking up his arms as the broadness stretched against his shirt. His cheek was warm when you placed your trembling fingers on his scruff, tracing small figures as you observed the scar on his jaw and the slight bend of his nose from getting it dislocated often. As you grazed his skin, your eyes never left him, even when he closed them to revel in your touch. Being this close to him was comforting; the contact was foreign to you but something you had longed for. Feeling wanted by him was what you wanted your dreams to turn into for the longest time. And it finally did.

The world around you grew quiet; only your breathing was audible as his chest moved under you, heavy intakes of breath raking through him. Letting your gaze fall to his lips, yours parted slightly. Through hazy eyes, you closed the small distance between you. A warm surge spread through you as his chapped lips met yours, his slight beard tickling your skin. A low moan escaped at the contact, and your heart burst at the seams, the fire flaring and oozing with each movement. You always wondered what pressing your lips against his would be like, his stoic character making it feel like your wishes were miles away. But now you knew, and it felt better than you imagined. His hands were still around your waist, holding you tightly as you felt all the excitement overflowing in your veins at his apparent contentment of your actions.  

You snuggled into him, holding his cheeks and caressing them with your thumb. Slowly, you leaned your head back, feeling dizzy from the emotions clouding your brain. He followed you as you pulled away, almost as if you hauled him towards you like tied with a lasso. His breath warmed your skin as his lips were placed in the conjecture of your neck as he leaned against you. As you giggled slightly from the tickling sensation, he breathlessly chuckled as he left wet trails up to the space under your ear, caressing the small of your back with his large hands. His gloved hand against the fabric of your blouse felt enticing, your back arching due to his touch, your upper body now pressed flush against him. You held his head close as your hands were buried in his thick hair. His lips found yours again, shifting against you fervently as he moved with more vigor. 

Of course, it was a dream, Arthur thought to himself. It bled into every nightly thought he has had of you now for the longest time. Your scent reached his nostrils. It was so sweet, so you. Small arms were wrapped around him, and your legs were now glued at either side of his thighs as your soft lips touched the skin under his ears in a silent kiss. Shivers wracked through his body as he ran his coarse hand alongside your waist, the soft woolen fabric hugging the curve of your waist tightly. Small gasps emitted from you as your hands ran up his stomach to his chest, planting small, tender packs against the slightly sunburnt skin, looking up at him through hooded eyes. Sinful, that’s how you looked. 

He lifted you slightly, capturing your soft lips in his. The sweet caress of your skin against his felt divine, the wet noise of your tongues finding each other mingling with the sound of the rain outside. As the jacket slid down your shoulder, the man was left staring at the soft curve of your round breasts, revealed from the unbuttoned cotton of your blouse, the slight hardness of your nipples showing through the fabric.

“Arthur”

“Mmh.” He was too far gone now, but he kept assuring himself he was dreaming. You would have never put your hands on him if he wasn’t. He had noticed how you huddled closer to him from the cold when you rode on the horse, your figure nestling against his, curves snug against him. Did you do it on purpose? Were you aware of what you were doing to him? He was still trying to recover from what transpired in his head when you escaped the riders. No, not from the bullets seeking to pierce his flesh, but your bottom. Your soft, tantalizing rear. It had been flush against him as you leaned forward earlier, the round hips taunting him temptingly, almost as if they begged for his hands to caress the soft curves that stretched the fabric that covered it. Damned skirt. What he would have done to push it up your legs and reveal the tender flesh hidden beneath them. Your slit bare against the saddle’s leather as you squirmed, jiggling your cheeks like you were begging Arthur to give in to your desire. Shit. He shouldn’t have been thinking about you like that, not when you were right before him.

Leaning forward slightly, you ran your fingers through Boadicea’s mane as you patted her neck. You spoke, but the words that left your mouth turned into nonsense in his clouded head. 

He had given you some nonsensical answer as he stared down at you through hazy eyes as your hips moved in sync with the horse’s motion, words flexed mindlessly out of his mouth as his restraint seemed non-existent. Your terms of cheerful disbelief grew distant as heat traveled through his body at his unholy thoughts, mouth too dry to give you a coherent answer. His hands moving on the reigns, trying to keep them from indulging your softness against him so he could feel the tremendous friction he was sure would send him straight to heaven. Christ, you riding on a horse should be illegal.

But now you were here, with him, and he had your soft body in his grasp. The tension from his earlier thoughts became apparent, his hands moving on their own as they familiarized themselves with your curves that felt so real. Too real.

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your button as he hastily lifts you. Automatically, your legs seek ahold of his waist, arms around his neck. He moved quickly over the floor as the lightning lit up the room from the cracks in the door, laying you down on the table and leaning down to cover your body with his. He was so close to you now, feeling every part of him press against you—every aspect. 

Snap!

Frozen in place, wide eyes adorn your face from the sudden sound. Arthur was still above you as he sharpened his ears, finding it difficult to hear since the rain hit the ground loudly outside. The snap had been just outdoor, like someone stepping on a branch. Panicked, you tried to find a reasonable explanation: an animal, a branch falling, or maybe Boadicea had moved.

Slowly, Arthur raised his body from yours, leaving you flustered and scared on the table. With a frightened stare, you looked at him as he raised his finger to his mouth, slowly stepping away so the wooden planks wouldn’t creek. Leaning against the door’s side, his hand rested on his pistol. Stay still. His eyes told you to do as he said, and so you did. It’s not like you were able to anyway, your muscles petrified. They had found you. The worst outcome filled your mind; what would they do to you if they got the upper hand? Turn you in, or worse, put a bullet between your eyes?

The loud noise of the door slamming open made you shoot your eyes toward it, finding Arthur standing in the doorway with his pistol pointed out into the dark.

“Aw, shit.” His throaty voice was laced with disbelief, making you lift your head from the table. Your laugh filled the space as the back of your head hit the table with a loud clang, eyes squeezed shut from the sight in front of you. It had seemed like Boadicea had found a friend, the stallion standing still from the sudden intrusion and ran away in haste. “C’mon, get outta here!” The surprised man cursed after the horse, beckoning it out as your hands found your face. The adrenaline still racing through you made your hands shake as the hilarity of the situation made you speechless. Placing your hand on your racing heart, you sat up as the old cutlery clinked underneath you, hearing Arthur’s loud, angry steps hit the porch steps. 

Standing before you, he sighed at your amusement, but you could see a slight smile worm its way underneath his frown. Although it quickly disappeared as he gazed at you before him. Right.

What in the world were you thinking? Now clear-minded, the intimacy you had shared entered your mind. Shame rose in you as your cheeks blazed, taking ahold of your blouse to cover your exposed state.

“Um…” You didn’t have the chance to finish the sentence before he cut you off. Hastily, he grabbed his rifle on the table and the pouch in harsh movements, making sure not to touch you before he went towards the door with big steps.

“It’s soon morning. Stay here until then; we’ll leave in a while.”

After the door slammed shut, the quietness was deafening. Now alone, you could see the slightest bit of light entering the cracks in the walls, but it didn’t ease the heaviness in your chest. It hadn’t been a dream, you thought to yourself. Every minute had been actual: his coarse hands, desperate lips, and body heat. If you closed your eyes and focused enough, you could still feel the traces of fingers over your clothing as his smell reached your nose once again, like he had united with the ghosts of this house and now haunted you. Taunting you. Why had he reacted so yet touched you so fiercely? You felt a pang in your chest at the thought, not understanding. 

Opening your eyes, you buttoned your blouse in shame and put your hands on your cheeks as you lifted yourself off the table. It was still chilly in the room but not as bad as the night before. Mindlessly, you wandered over the space, sat in the chair where Arthurs’s jacket lay, and brought your knees up to your chest, hugging it tight with your arms. The blissful moment you had together faded, the warm touches dimmed into cold, malicious blows to your heart as the hope of finally having a pleasant dream vanished, the moment turning into an all too familiar nightmare.

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[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER FIVE: STRUCK A MATCH AND BLEW YOUR MIND

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✦ summary: in which you decide to reveal everything at brunch and chaos ensues. (wc: 8.3k+)

✦ warnings — ANGST!!, like this one is really angsty buckle up! argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of an ab*sive relationship, it is not detailed by they talk A LOT about it, mentions of bruises, some trauma/making fun of trauma, chrissy being super mean and omfg reader is PETTY, jealousy, pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!, steve is silly luv him

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader, eddie munson x chrissy cunningham, nancy wheeler x jonathan byers

✦ authors note — ngl this was fun to write LMAO but so hellish to edit JFC IM FINALLY DONE!! a few songs i listened to while i wrote this chapter are; liar by paramore, rwylm by taylors swift, and lover you should've come over by jeff buckley. need to add all those to the playlist asap !! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! and not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!!

series masterlist | series playlist

Counting cobblestones was your best distraction from Robin’s loud groans and the noises her dress made as she stretched it further and further. The sun streamed through the both of you, causing you to squeeze your eyes lightly. 

“Would you let my poor dress go?” You warned without turning to her, hand having a harsh grip on the gin bottle you were afraid of dropping. 

“I can’t, it’s itching!” She groaned, harshly scratching her chest. 

“Why’d you even ask to borrow a dress if you hated wearing them so much?” You threw her a look.

"I wanted to look presentable! But now, I think I’d rather wear a trash bag than ever be this uncomfortable again,” she said through gritted teeth, following you to the doorstep. 

You giggled, “But you know what?” you turned to her with a smile, “You look super pretty in that dress, Robs,” you winked teasingly, earning a groan from her as your hand shakily pressed onto the red doorbell, careful not to drop the bottle that was in your grip. 

A few rumbles were overheard before Steve swiftly opened the door, leaning against the doorframe as he gave the two of you a look, both of you in your sundress, while you held the bottle in your hand like a prized possession and Robin was still scratching her neck. “About damn time, I was starting to think you guys forgot where I lived!” He said teasingly, causing you to narrow your gaze. 

“Whatever happened to hello? Hi? I missed you, my bestest friend, Pinky!” You exaggerated dramatically, “Oh and you totally look so much better than that traitor sitting in my living room,” you spat snarkily, perfectly imitating a bitchy Steve. 

“You know about that?” Steve asked, and you were quick to nod. “Oh, thank fucking god! I did not want to be the one to tell you,” he sighed a breath of relief, a gesture you met with a roll of your eyes.

Steve quickly changed his tone to flattery. “Have I told you how much I missed you, sweetheart?” he said with exaggerated sweetness, “Oh, and you look so pretty!” He continued with an amplified smile, “so much better than that traitor sitting in my living room.” He hummed, covering his mouth sideways, so childlike that it had you giggling. 

Amid the banter, Robin, still visibly uncomfortable, impatiently broke in. “Okay, doofus, are you gonna let us in?” She groaned and brushed past the two of you, making her way to the familiar kitchen.

“Hello to you too, Rob!” Steve responded with a chuckle, before closing the door and guiding you both to the cozy kitchen.

Once inside, Steve couldn't help but ask, “So, what have you got there, P?” His eyes locked on the gin bottle in your hand.

With an excited gleam in your eye, you presented it proudly. “A party gift,” you said with a grin, shaking it gently in front of Steve's face before he took it from you.

"For breakfast?" Steve asked with a huff and a raised eyebrow. 

“We’re going to make breakfast martinis!” Robin chimed in excitedly, her eyes lighting up as she grabbed two elegant cocktail glasses she'd found in Steve's well-stocked kitchen. The crystal-clear glasses made a chiming sound when she set them down harshly.

“You guys have a problem,” he joked, leaning against the kitchen counter while he eyed the way you hurriedly searched for something in his fridge.

“Says the guy who used to shotgun five beers like it was nothing,” you scoffed behind the fridge door. A shushed ‘Yes!’ escaped from your lips when you acquired lemons and a bottle of orange juice from the fridge's depths. 

“And that is not how you make a breakfast martini,” he playfully groaned, stealing your ingredients away from you. Your pout was met with a playful eye roll.

“Oh-kay, fancy pants,” Robin mocked, making you snort with her easy banter.

Steve couldn't help but ask, genuine concern etching his brow, “You sure you’re okay?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, but they both eyed your expressions curiously, almost as if you were a ticking time bomb.

“Oh, c'mon, you two!” You brushed it off, trying to shift the focus.

“We’re just worried about you is all,” Robin added, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Her fingertips were warm against your skin, concern washed over her face.

“It’s perfectly normal to not be okay, you know,” Steve reassured you, his voice gentle. “I mean, it must be hard coming back here after everything-”

“Well, I’m fine, Steve,” you replied a bit more sharply than you intended, guilt settling in your stomach quickly. Steve's comforting stance somehow allowed your emotions to spill out more freely.

“It’s-it’s just such a fucking gut punch that he brought her here, you know?” The frustration in your voice was palpable, tone heavy with pain.

“I know, I know,” Steve empathized, both of them stood by your side, hands resting on both of your shoulders, comedically protective. 

“Want me to beat him up?” Steve said with a serious gaze, hands forming into fists as he playfully punched the air. You and Robin erupted in giggles, as Robin elbowed him playfully, “I think she needs someone better at fights to protect her, you know?” She narrowed her gaze.

“Ow!” Steve dramatically gasped, “Rude!” He pouted. “Thank you, my knight in shining armor, but I’ll be fine." You snatched the gin bottle, moving on to the task at hand – preparing the breakfast martinis as you poured the clear liquid into the glass.

“I’m more worried about your health there,” he hummed, pointing toward the generous amount of gin you poured into your glass. 

“Jesus, when did you become such a priss, King Steve?” Robin mocked further before he gave the two of you a look. 

“I don’t like you two together,” he huffed, hand gesturing between the two of you dramatically, “so mean,” he said, tone exaggerated, and slumped playfully, pretending to be defeated.

“Aww, come on, Stevie,” you pouted, “I missed ya,” with a hum, you gave him a quick, affectionate squeeze in a tight hug. Steve responded with a theatrical cough causing you to roll your eyes.

“What have you been up to? I listened to Robin’s work crush, the whole fucking way…” You enunciated dramatically, drawing a teasing reaction from Robin, who exclaimed, “Hey!” in response.

“Can you believe her name is Lily? Lily… that’s so pretty, she’s so pretty… Like a flower. I mean her hair is so soft, I-I mean it seems soft I never like touched it or anything, that would be creepy-” You mimicked Robin and her fast-talking, and she stuck her tongue at you childishly. 

“Is doofusness contagious? I feel like you’ve been standing too close to Steve.” She mocked with a smirk, taking a jab at both of you, but more so Steve as she leaned against the counter cooly. 

“You’re quick with the comebacks today, Rob, jeez!” You praised, turning back to Steve who was disregarding the two of you with a shake of his head.  

Robin winked at you, before snatching the bottle from Steve’s hand to make herself a drink. “So… Stevie, what about you?” You hummed, leaning in with a curious expression.

“How’s work?”

A proud smile spread across Steve's face as he said, “I got a promotion.”

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, genuine excitement dancing in your eyes. “Steve, that’s amazing!” His frown had your brows furrowed, “why are you not excited?” You pouted.

“You remember Adam?” He huffed, “the guy from accounting?” Your brows quirked up in intrigue, Steve was quick to nod. 

“He turned out to be a douche,” with a scoff, he leaned further on the courter, his muscles flexing with irritation. “What?” You asked with a frown, “but you said it was getting serious?” 

“Yeah, I guess I was wrong, I dunno,” He shrugged, wanting to seem nonchalant but it was obvious he was hurt. 

Your face fell quickly, “well, what about that other girl you met in the grocery store?” You asked hopefully, nudging him slightly. 

“Didn’t even call me back,” Steve huffed, and you couldn't help but pout at his apparent string of bad luck.

“Stevie…”

“I dunno what’s wrong with me,” Steve admitted, his voice laced with self-doubt.

Your heart ached at his insecurity, and you couldn't help but reassure him. “What? Nothing is wrong with you! Are you kidding?”

“These people sound like the problem to me!” You exclaimed, “I mean look at you! A nice boy with a good job, and that hair? So soft!” you giggled, hand ruffling with his perfectly made hair, which he would usually yell at you for, but now he just looked at you with the most puppy dog eyes. “Harrington, you’re the whole goddamn package.” 

“You mean that?” He sounded so insecure, and innocent, that your stomach was quick to drop, knowing that Steve doubted himself like this. 

“Of course!” you reassured with a pat on his back, “fuck both of them! I’ll get you something to drink.” You winked.

“Please let me make it,” Steve replied with a hint of mischief, narrowing his gaze playfully. “In fact, I’ll make both of you a proper drink,” he emphasized.

“Fine, pretty boy.”

“Rob,” he called out to her with a tilt of his head  “Orange liquor, please?”

Robin looked at him with a puzzled look, “am I supposed to know where that is?” 

A tad exasperated, Steve pointed to a spot on the counter. “Right there on the counter, Rob. Jesus, you never let me look cool.”

“Don’t worry pretty boy, you don’t need her to make you look cool.” You winked teasingly, hand gently placed on Steve’s shoulder to give him a reassuring squeeze, causing Robin to snort behind you as you elbowed harshly to shush her. 

Of fucking course, that’s when they decided to come into the kitchen, you could hear Chrissy’s annoying giggles before you saw her, and Eddie’s face dropped the second he saw the two of you. And all you could focus on was how close they were standing next to each other, Chrissy’s shoulder brushing against his.

You felt sick again. 

Eddie cleared his throat, the laughter in the room dying with it. His sour face grew hot because he heard your compliments to Steve, saw the smiles you gave him, and your hand on his arm. 

Insecure thoughts were quick to race through his mind, why was your hand on his arm? And pretty boy? You used to call him that. And him only.

His thoughts should have driven him closer to Chrissy, to make you more jealous, to have that satisfaction, but all it did was leave a bitter taste in his mouth, another lump he couldn’t swallow, and he stepped a bit back away from her unintentionally. 

“Hi!” Chrissy beamed, and your eyes squinted with her voice, the urge to roll your eyes, and confront her right now was strong. 

None of you answered her, it was awkward, pretty fucking awkward that even Robin’s cheshire cat smile didn’t save the room, Eddie speaking up did. 

“You- uh got any water, Harrington?” It was supposed to be a joke, but the way it rolled out of his jealous lips made him sound bitter as if he was pissed at him. 

Steve, taken aback by Eddie's sudden change in attitude, raised an eyebrow and responded, “Yeah?” He pointed toward the refrigerator, offering some bottled water.

Annoyance seeped through you as they stood there, prickling like a knife through your skin, your gaze narrowed as you tried to avoid looking at them, but it was awkward, so fucking awkward. 

Eddie was quick to take a sip from the bottle, the entire room filled with silence as his gaze never faltered on you, “you got any notes for me?” Eddie said cooly, leaning onto the fridge, Chrissy by his side. 

It was aimed at you, and you totally would’ve missed it if every eye in the room didn’t turn to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, trying to deflect the attention. "Huh?"

Eddie’s demeanor changed at your confusion, almost like his confidence wore off the second he realized you might not have read it. “The note, you said you’d review it?” His voice held emotion, you could hear it, a pang of insecurity along with betrayal, but you didn’t want to talk about this, and you didn’t want to talk about it in front of her.

“No.” You lied through your teeth, swallowing the lump in your throat when you finally looked at him, like really, really looked at him. 

He looked tired, with dark circles surrounding his eyes, hair even messier than usual, his lips cracked, and you could smell the nicotine off of him, even though he was halfway across the room. 

And there was a slight shift in the way he held himself when you told him you didn’t read it, his tongue rolling inside of his cheek in a sour manner before he straightened up. “Typical,” he spat, he didn’t mean to, it was more supposed to be his inner voice, but he couldn’t help himself.  He couldn’t help the way he felt insecure when he saw you standing next to Steve, and he couldn’t help but show how much you not reading the note shattered him.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, the air in the room getting tense, Steve and Robin pretending to be distracted while continuing to make a drink, Robin’s clumsy clatters serving as a noisy backdrop. 

“What does that mean?” You asked calmly, maybe it wasn’t as calm as you intended it to be, but he really had the nerve to come for you when he didn’t even realize he was the one who was in the wrong. 

“It means that I wouldn’t have expected anything more from you,” he spat out like he was your enemy, and it hurt, it fucking hurt that he saw you as someone that careless as if you didn’t read the entire note the whole night, as if you didn’t fall asleep to Aurora playing in the background. As if he knew anything. 

Your anger flared, and you couldn’t help yourself, “What the actual fuck is your problem?” Your voice raised, and you straightened yourself, taking a step closer to them as both Robin and Steve’s heads snapped toward your direction, wanting to interrupt, but Chrissy got to it first. 

“Okay, I don’t think we should-” Her screeching voice grated your ears.

With that, your attention turned to her, head cocking in a sharp gesture of anger, “stay out of it,” you warned, both Steve and Robin watched you in full force, almost looking like they wanted to cheer you on. 

Chrissy turned to Eddie as if she was asking for him to say something back to you, but Eddie’s gaze remained on you, unable to process anything else. 

She took a step closer, her head slightly tilted to the side, “Oh, come on, take a chill pill, Pinky,” she gave you a smile, it wasn’t warming, it wasn’t genuine, you could see right through her. This was her catty smile. 

And it almost triggered something in you—the way her head tilted, her hand on her hips, the ‘take a chill pill’ line, it was something you recognized all too well. 

The same phrase, that same annoying octave, and the same hand on her hips when she first “accidentally” started the rumor that you had kissed Eddie—granted, it wasn’t a rumor. It was true, you had kissed Eddie while you and Billy were on a break, but you told her that in confidence, and she broke your trust. Yet, like an idiot, you believed her when she said it was an accident, and that someone must have overheard the two of you talking.

Once Billy found out about the rumors, he barely let you breathe, not only did the fights get more amped up and violent, but he also isolated you from your friends, and mostly Eddie. You didn’t put the pieces together that Chrissy caused the rumor until much later.

Then, at Steve’s party, the same smile, and that same phrase, like you hadn’t caught her with Billy in the bathroom minutes ago. 

And now, she was doing it again, you assumed it was on purpose, or at least it all felt like it was on purpose. And it boggled your mind how quickly she made Eddie believe she was a nice person. Because she wasn’t, and even if she was, your friendship was beyond salvageable now. 

You decided to take a step closer to her, Steve and Robin both jumping on their feet, afraid of what might happen. But you had no intention of doing anything, or even saying anything to her. 

Because you had decided your mind. 

If Chrissy wanted to play that game, then so fucking be it. 

When the bell rang once again, Steve was quick to rise, “Must be Nancy and Jonathan!” he announced, voice almost cracking from the tension in the room. He was quick to scurry off, inviting the main couple inside. You turned to Robin swiftly, almost ruining her balance with the way you snatched the drink from her hand, you took a big sip, downing the contents in one go. Then, without acknowledging either of them, you headed inside, leaving behind the simmering tension in the kitchen. 

-

You were all seated, Nancy and Jonathan side by side, next to them Steve and Robin, and on their right, were the rest of the band, followed by Chrissy, Eddie, and you. 

The table itself looked perfect, you could see that Steve went all out for it, adorning the table with an array of breakfast foods. Plates piled high with pastries, fruit, muffins, and of course, Steve’s special pancakes. He never stopped raving about them, and the second he sat down, he grabbed a generous amount of it to his plate. A pot of steaming coffee sat right by the end of the table, along with your gin bottle sitting right next to it, which was what you had been preferring, because everything was fucking awkward.

You were sipping on your drink like it was your lifeline, Steve and Robin watched you with a concerned gaze, whispering back and forth. 

Jeff, Gareth, and the new drummer you hadn’t met before, Nathan were laughing obnoxiously, and you almost felt like it was all aimed at you.

Maybe you were paranoid, but you assumed they wouldn’t be keen on you, knowing that after L.A. all they saw was a mess of Eddie who wrote nothing but sad songs, which all the lyrics seemed to point in your direction.

“How is pre-wedding life going for the love birds?” Eddie hummed seemingly more content than before.

Jonathan and Nancy both let out an exasperated sigh, giggling like kids after they realized how in sync they were, “pretty fuckin’ tiring,” Jonathan replied, taking a mouthful bite from the pastry he had on his plate.

“You guys are still on for tonight, right? I promised the guy at Hideout at least two songs from Corroded Coffin,” he emphasized the band's name mockingly. 

“‘Course, dude, whatever you need,” Eddie gave him a small smile, a wink thrown in for good measure.

Unintentionally, Eddie shifted his gaze towards you, observing the way you seemed to shrink into your seat, fingers nervously tracing the rim of your drink. Chrissy's eyes followed him, her gaze narrowing as she caught onto the subtle shift in his attention. He leaned closer to you, so close that his hand almost brushed against yours that sat on the table.

Eddie opened his pursed lips, about to utter something, but Chrissy couldn’t let that happen.

“This feels weird,” She hummed, “the last time we were all here, this table was for beer pong.” She giggled, and slightly nudged Eddie.

Eddie gave her a tight-lipped smile before his attention was quick to turn back to you, but you ignored his burning gaze.

“Steve that was a sick party,” She exclaimed excitedly, trying to gather Steve’s attention who was busy trying to locate the syrup for his awaiting pancakes. 

Your head almost popped up simultaneously at the mention… the same party. The same fucking party she tried to kiss Billy. The same fucking party she humiliated you with her words. The same party she made fun of…

“Huh?” He asked mindlessly, almost knocking over Robin’s drink with how fast he was looking for the syrup, completely ignoring Chrissy. “Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed, earning furrowed brows from Robin, who just shook her head at him. 

“I forgot the syrup!” He groaned, getting up from his seat. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Robin mocked, as Steve threw her a glare before making a hasty retreat to the kitchen with a string of curses leaving his lips, while the rest of the table tried to soak in the awkwardness.

Gareth was quick to chime in though, “oh, yeah!” he quipped, remembering the party. “You went to that party?” Jeff asked with his brows pinched together in confusion. 

“Yeah, Eddie was selling so he brought me along,” he explained, grabbing Eddie by the shoulder with a chuckle. 

“Oh god, that was the same party you beat Billy to a fuckin’ pulp, dude!” His chuckle grew louder, hand on his stomach.

You and Eddie tensed at the mention of it, while you enjoyed Billy finally not being able to get away with his violence, none of that memory was amusing to you in the slightest. And nor was it to Eddie. 

Gareth turned to Chrissy when his laughter finally died off, “Hey, didn’t we play beer pong together?” 

Chrissy's face lit up with a nostalgic giggle, “oh my god, we totally did!” She exclaimed excitedly, but your gaze remained on your empty plate, unable to contain the rage bubbling inside of you. 

"It was so funny," she began, "Gareth kept missing it, but..."

Your patience reached its limit, and you couldn't help but interject. "When was that?" Your voice tinged with an edge, cut through the chatter at the table.

Multiple heads were quick to turn to you, and Chrissy probably had no clue what you were up to.  Maybe this was a low blow, maybe you shouldn’t tell in front of everyone.

“We were pretty drunk, I don’t remember-” She said meekly, but you interrupted, again.

“I was at that party too, but I must have missed that!” You continued, your words sharp and calculated. And feigning a faux sense of intrigue. Maybe it was cruel, but this was the perfect setup, and Chrissy was falling right into your trap. 

Before she could respond, you pressed on, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “oooh! Was that before or after you tried to hook up with my ex-boyfriend?” Your words hung heavy in the air, the whole table quick to fall silent. 

Almost all eyes except Chrissy turned to you, Robin almost choked on the strong drink Steve made for her. Gareth, Jeff, and Nathan all stopped their inner chatter, while Jonathan and Nancy’s eyes widened in unison.

As the tension continued to mount, Jonathan quickly turned to Nancy, leaning towards her, “Should I do something-” He whispered to Nancy, who didn’t dare to move, watching everything unravel before her. 

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, “she deserves this confrontation. And, I am tired of Eddie pestering us about this; he deserves to know.” Nancy shrugged, Jonathan reluctantly raised his hands in agreement, almost like he was surrendering to her reasonings. 

Chrissy stood there, her voice caught in her throat, mouth agape, unable to utter a coherent response. She was frozen, eyes wide with shock, while her fingers nervously fumbled with the napkin on the table, struggling to find the words to defend herself.

You reacted with a bitter, mocking disbelief, shaking your head slowly. “Shit, or was it after you blamed me for what Billy did to me? You know, making fun of my bruises and stuff?”

“What?” Eddie’s face scrunched in disgust, his eyes flickering to Chrissy, who seemed to shrink under the weight of what she did. Jonathan and Nancy watched with their mouth almost hanging open. Robin had a smug smile on her face, she bit her lip in excitement while watching everything unfold. It was like all of them had been waiting for this confrontation. 

Poor Jeff, Gareth, and Nathan just watched with a confused look, not knowing anything about the deep history between the three of you. 

Chrissy stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but once again you didn’t let her. “No, no, wait!” You were relentless, sarcasm cutting through your tone as you playfully hit your forehead in a mocking gesture. “I think it was after you made fun of my parents leaving me, what did you say they were?” You mocked a pensive expression, a dangerous glint in your eyes, “Junkies?” Your gaze narrowed, Chrissy’s stammering continued, and she turned to Eddie desperately, while her vision was getting blurry. 

The room had grown oppressively tense, no one dared to speak, Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy all wore disgusted faces, along with the surprise of you laying everything out on the table, literally. Jeff and Gareth silently oofed, even though they didn’t know anything, they knew that what Chrissy did was fucked up. 

Eddie struggled to process it, your words, the realization that Chrissy had done something worse other than trying to hook up with Billy was hard to sink into his skin.  “What the fuck are you talking about?” He repeated, his entire world almost shattering dramatically.

“Oh, didn’t your sweet, sweet Chrissy mention all that?” You weren’t holding back, every bitterness, every ugliness, you were ready to spit it all at him and Chrissy.  

And you wished it would give you satisfaction, you wished it would make you feel better.

But it didn’t. None of it felt good, none of it filled the void inside of you. None of it helped you get over the betrayal that unfolded right between your eyes. 

None of it helped you get over the cruel look Chrissy gave you when she made fun of your traumas, none of it helped you get over the fact that Eddie told you that you ruined his life, and none of it helped the way your lip trembled when you saw the two of them kiss. 

“Okay, I’ve got the syrup!” Steve chimed in, unaware of everything that had just transpired in the room, his brows furrowed when he noticed the tension, every eye on the table turned to him, except for you, Chrissy, and Eddie. 

Chrissy's desperate gaze fixed on Eddie, pleading for some form of understanding or forgiveness, but his gaze remained unwaveringly locked on you, filled with guilt. Your own eyes were cast downward, remaining on your lap, while you tried hard to fight back the tears. 

Because no matter what, Chrissy betrayed your trust, you trusted her enough to tell her what Billy did to you, and instead of getting help, she tried to kiss him, or actually did kiss him, you never found out the truth—both of them told you a different version of the story. 

She made fun of your parents leaving you. She blamed you for the things Billy did. Like it meant nothing to her. Like you meant nothing to her. 

“Did I just interrupt something-” Steve was quickly hushed by Robin, who pulled him to his seat quickly. “Pinky is confronting Chrissy!” 

“What? Now?” He whisper-yelled, putting down the syrup jar on the table, eyeing the tension between the three of you. Robin nodded, “Eddie’s trying to process all of it, and Chrissy looks like she’s about to burst into tears,” she added. 

“He didn’t know?” Steve’s brows furrowed, “Nuh-uh, don’t you remember how P made us all promise not to tell anyone? You know how she is with her personal stuff,” the two of them whispered back and forth, earning a glare from Nancy that shut both of them up. 

Eddie’s expressions were unreadable, mixed with every possible emotion as he drew a deep breath in a feeble attempt to make sense of everything. “W-what exactly happened?” With uncertainty in his eyes, he faced you, he wanted to know everything. But you didn’t dare to look at him, crossing your arms defensively against your chest—you were in no way ready to tell him anything. 

“I-I wanted to apologize to you, and I wanted to..” Chrissy’s voice trembled, she seemed apologetic, eyes glistening with guilt, but it truly meant nothing to you.

“Shit, you really don’t fucking get it, do you?” You couldn’t help but click your tongue in annoyance, hand on your forehead in disbelief. “This isn’t about your stupid apology.” 

“You knew them, Chrissy,” you continued, your voice quivering with raw emotion, “you were there with me when they left, you fucking comforted me when I cried…” All of it felt too raw for you, your chest tightening the more you remembered it all, “and then you used it as a punch line for a stupid joke, to hurt me.” 

You took a deep breath in an attempt to continue, your heart tightening the more you spoke. “You knew what Billy did to me, you saw the bruises, and you acted like none of that mattered when you kissed him!” 

“I d-didn’t—it was a misunderstanding!” She tried to defend herself, but you didn’t care. 

You were quick to get up from your seat, feeling suffocated. “God, i-it really hurt, it did.” you confessed, your voice trembling as you blinked away the tears. “But it doesn’t anymore because you were dead to me the second you uttered those words.” Your lips trembled.

“And you,” with a tone filled with bitterness, you finally turned to Eddie, really looking at him for the first time. His eyes were filled with regret, brows scrunched up together with guilt. Your hand pointed toward him accusingly, “fucking date her for all I care, you two deserve each other.” 

You stormed off to the backyard quickly, not being able to hold back the tears anymore. Eddie got up the second you did, pleading for your name. The room fell silent again, and just as he was about to chase you, Steve was quick to rise to his feet, intervening with a grab of Eddie’s arm. 

“Give her some time,” Steve’s harsh hold on Eddie’s arm had everyone eyeing them.

“Excuse me?” Eddie retorted, his gaze dangerously fiery. 

“She needs some time, Eddie.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie warned, gaze dropping to the hold that Steve had on him, his anger simmering just below the surface.

“Man, I’m trying to be helpful right now, you’re the last person she wants to fucking see,” Steve spat, gaze narrowing as he looked at him with disgust. 

That was the breaking point for Eddie, he took a step closer, his anger ready to spill over to Steve, which wasn’t fair, but it had been building up the second he saw how close the two of you were. The smiles you threw at him. The compliments. It was stupid and so unlike him, but with everything, he couldn’t afford to lose you, not again.

And it looked like he just did. 

“That’s not any of your fuckin’ business, Harrington-”

Before the situation could escalate further, Jonathan intervened, stepping between the two of them. “Alright, alright!” he gently defused the tension. “Steve, Rob, go see if she’s okay,” He demanded, the two of them looking at him dumbfoundedly, “Go!” he exclaimed, and Robin was quick to rise from her seat, dragging Steve away from Eddie who was still throwing daggers with his looks toward Steve.

“And Eddie, I need to talk to you for a second.” Jonathan caught Eddie’s attention and tugged at his jacket to the side while Nancy quickly excused herself from the awkward table before the three of them huddled in the corner. 

Eddie was quick to shake off the hold Jonathan had on him, his anger still uncontained. “What?” His voice was raised. 

“You need to calm the fuck down,” Jonathan warned. 

“Why didn’t you guys-” He took a deep breath. “How could you guys not fuckin’ tell me?” His voice was desperate. 

“She told us not to!” Nancy added. “God, I’m such a fuckin’ idiot.” He exasperated.

Jonathan agreed with a nod, “That, you are.” Earning a glare from Eddie, he continued, “I’m sorry dude, but it’s true, you shouldn’t have paraded her around in front of Pinky.” 

“How was I supposed to know?!?”

“You weren’t,” Nancy sighed, “but you knew what happened with Billy, and that should’ve been enough, Eddie.”

Eddie shook his head to disagree, his disheveled hair hung over his forehead, barely covering his pained eyes. “If I knew, if I fucking knew for a second that s-she made fun of, shit-” His voice cracked, struggling to find the right words. The vivid recollections of your pain etched lines of hurt across his face. “God, I saw how much her parents leaving crushed her, Nance. I was there, I comforted her.” Nancy could sense the hurt in his voice. 

“Every time she came over to a Munson dinner, every time Wayne told her she was family, every time Wayne did somethin’ for her... I-I could just see how much she appreciated it. Wayne, and me…” 

His voice continued to tremble, and tears welled up in his eyes. “And I saw those goddamn bruises that fucking asshole left, s-she was shaking, Jon- I-I knew how hard it was for her, if I…”  He took a shuddering breath, voice still shaky, and gaze glistening with unshed tears.

His hands moved in agitation, desperate to defend himself and express his guilt. “If I… If I knew for one goddamn second that she made fun of that, I w-would’ve never!” He punctuated his words desperately, hands rubbing against his face in disbelief.

“I know, I know,” Nancy reassured with a soothing voice, both she and Jonathan reached out to rub his back comfortingly. “I think she’s just upset right now, Ed.” Jonathan spoke up.

“I mean can you really blame her? I know you didn’t know anything, but the moment she came back to the town, the first thing she saw was you and Chrissy kissing… it was probably a tough pill for her to swallow.” Nancy mumbled.

Jonathan was quick to add with a soft-spoken plea, “Give her some time, and then you can apologize, okay?” He nodded, trying to take all of the information he acquired in the last five minutes

“I also think you have someone else you need to talk to,” Jonathan whispered, gaze pointing toward Chrissy who had been itching to speak to him, her gaze repeatedly flickering in their direction.

And once Chrissy realized Eddie looking back at her, she was quick to get up from her seat, shoulders slumped as she approached him. She eyed the way Nancy and Jonathan gave Eddie a slight smile and a nudge on his shoulder before they left. 

Her eyes were glossy, face red. “C-can I talk to you?” She stammered.

“Y-yeah,” he conceded, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, not able to help himself when his head turned toward the sliding door, wanting to get a glimpse of you but blocked by the figure of Steve.

“I-I should’ve told you what I did.” Chrissy sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat as she took a deep breath.

“I-I’m sorry. I just…” She recollected her thoughts, “you were like the only one who didn’t know and it just… It felt nice to hang out with someone who didn’t shun me out.”

“Steve, Nancy, Jonathan… even Robin, the second they learned what I said, they didn’t even look me in the face!” Her voice cracked.

“And I know I probably deserved that but that was so long ago and I…” Her gaze fell toward the floor, she felt embarrassed, she should’ve never done that to you, and she did have her reasons, but she also knew none of them would ever justify what she said. 

“I was just miserable and bitter and P-pinky didn’t deserve any of that. I know that but…” Her head snapped up, her tearful eyes locking with Eddie’s, “I really had fun with you these past couple of days and…”

Eddie was quick to interrupt her, shaking his head, “Chrissy…” He sighed, fingers rubbing his temples in an attempt to comfort himself, it was too much, everything was too much.

And he didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to talk to her, he didn’t want some pep talk from Jonathan and Nancy, he only wanted you.

He wanted to tell you how sorry he was, and how much of an idiot he was. Even though he didn’t know anything. But he should’ve known better. He should have.

And he felt the guilt gnawing at him, consuming him from the inside.

“I really felt like we had something-” Eddie was quick to dismiss her.

“Chrissy, I’m sorry I should have never done this, I-I’m such a fucking coward.”

“W-what?” Chrissy asked, her voice breaking again, tears brimming in her eyes. “I should’ve known,” she sighed, shutting her eyes briefly to avoid the tears.

Eddie let out a confused hum. “I-I mean I kind of did, I saw the way you looked at her, the way your eyes lit up unintentionally whenever someone mentioned her. The smile you had when she talked to you… You were never ever like that with me, not even for a second.”

It took Eddie a few seconds to process that, he knew he should’ve never done anything with Chrissy, he never should’ve tried to defend her to you, he should’ve listened to you. He was an idiot. 

Chrissy was right. It was you. It had always been you. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t fuckin’ mean to but I think like back in my mind, I did all of this to make myself feel better because I knew she might be coming back and I just wanted to make myself feel like I got over her. I-I know that’s incredibly shitty and I’m sorry-” 

“So you just used me?” She spat, feeling like a pawn in a game she did not want to be a part of.

“N-no! That’s not what I tried to do! I just… I just, I’m sorry that it came off that way… I thought I could you know… do this,” he mumbled, pointing toward the space between them.

“I can’t and I never should have tried.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” He could see Chrissy’s hurt turn quickly to anger, and maybe five minutes ago, when he didn’t know what she did to you, he would’ve apologized for being a dick, and for doing something as stupid as this. But he couldn’t be apologetic to her, not anymore.

“I-it means it’s always been her, and it’s always going to be her, Chrissy,” Eddie admitted, something that he should’ve realized a long time ago, and Chrissy wanted to laugh at that.

Of course, it was going to be you, it was always you. 

Billy, and now Eddie. No matter what she did, she could never compete with you. You didn’t even have to do anything and they would devote their whole fucking life to you. 

And it pissed her off, made her bitter. Which wasn’t fair, which didn’t make what she ever did or said okay. But her mind justified it. Fueled her to say those things to you. 

Eddie, struggling to process Chrissy's words, stammered in disbelief, “I can’t even look at you after what she told me. How could you be so cruel?” The way he viewed Chrissy changed in a matter of seconds, disgust overtaking his senses. 

But Chrissy found that amusing. She chuckled bitterly, shaking her head. “Me?” She pointed an accusatory finger at him, “You just admitted that you basically used me. Jesus Christ, you’re an asshole.”

“And I’m really sorry about that,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity, “that isn’t what I intended to-“

Chrissy, still seething with anger and disappointment, didn't give him a chance to finish. “Save it.” She rolled her eyes, hand defensively pointing toward him.

Gareth, Jeff, and Nathan suddenly appeared, intruding awkwardly into the already strained atmosphere between the two of them. Gareth was the first to speak up, attempting to break the tension. He cleared his throat and said, “Uhhh- hey man, we’re gonna take off.”

“You comin’?” Jeff inquired, standing beside Gareth.

 “Uhhh, no? I need to talk to her.” Eddie replied firmly.

“Seriously? You’re still running after her?” Gareth bit back, Jeff tried to elbow him to shut him up but it was no use.

“I’ll see you guys tonight.” He said through gritted teeth, not in the mood to deal with Gareth’s hatred for you.

“Chrissy, you comin’?” Gareth was quick to turn to her, and she nodded quickly, before throwing a harsh look at Eddie.

“Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath, leaving off with them.

“I did deserve that.” Eddie sighed, mumbling to himself before he finally decided to meet all of you in the backyard.

-

You leaned back on your seat, eyes still glossy but you looked happier, a giggle leaving your lips at something Steve said. 

And it hurt Eddie to see that, it hurt because your teary eyes were all because of him, and you were giggling only because of Steve.

It wasn’t like this before, he was the one who always made you happy, he never made you cry, he never uttered horrible words to you like he did yesterday. 

Was it all doomed? 

Did the chance for the two of you pass by and both of you were too much of an idiot to realize it? Did he manage to fuck everything up with just barely two days? 

Your laughter died down the second your gaze met his, breath getting hitched in your throat. He looked guilty, those shaggy bangs falling messily on his forehead, hand stuffed into the back of his black jeans.  Walking over to you with such shyness that your gaze softened, you didn’t want to be like this with him. It was never like this before. 

But it hurt so much that you could feel your chest swell with the pain. His words, Chrissy… you couldn’t pretend like none of it happened anymore. 

“Can we talk?” 

“Dude, I just told you-” Steve was quick to interject, and it brought warmth in your stomach, the feeling nicely seeping into your skin, knowing that your friends truly cared about you, and how much they would do to protect you. 

They had done it with Chrissy, you never asked them to do anything, but the second you told any of them what happened, they didn’t even throw her a second glance when they ran into her ever again in this damned town. 

And it meant so much, knowing that there were people you could count on, a sense of protectiveness and security that your parents never provided for you. But you liked that, you liked having them, an untraditional way of family, but your family regardless. 

“Harrington, will you fuckin’-”

You interrupted both of their stupid dick-measuring competition with a sigh, “It’s okay, Steve,” you murmured, throwing him a smile before squeezing his arm gently. “We do need to talk,” you nodded off toward Eddie, dragging him off to the other side gently, away from all of them.

“Look, fuck- I’m so sorry, okay?” He started, his voice apologetic.

“Eddie, please-”

“No, no, let me talk, please,” he breathed out, desperate, his gaze mirroring yours, fingers brushing on your arms, gentle, pleading. 

“I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot, I’m the biggest fucking idiot in the whole world.”

“Y-you never ruined my life, okay? You could never, even if you tried your hardest. Even if you did the worst possible thing to me. I could never see you like that. I could never see the worst of you.”

“I-I shouldn’t have done what I did, I shouldn’t have brought her everywhere, and I shouldn’t have tried to defend her to you.”

“E-eddie, stop” you gulped, interrupting him, “You-you’re confusing the fuck out of me… You tell me I ruined your life, and then I read those stupid notes-”

“You read them?” Eddie’s brows raised in surprise, an idiotic grin curling on his lips.

“Of course I did.” You muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“But you said-” 

“I wanted to piss you off,” you admitted with a meek voice. 

“And what did you think?” He asked, hopeful, still feeling nervous with the way you were so calm, he knew nothing good was gonna come out of this. 

“That I-I can’t do this.” 

“I mean, the song is really great…” You muttered, and you wanted to mention the other note, how much it crushed you and how much you wished it could change anything, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. You couldn’t handle seeing him, you couldn’t handle anything about Eddie. You needed some time apart. 

“And I’m glad you realized you fucked up but I… I’m just so tired,” you sighed, licking your lips to get some sort of encouragement to say the things that you were about to say. 

“I-I can’t do this back and forth with you anymore,” you huffed. 

“I mean just look at us! I’ve been here for almost two days and look how many times we fought and then pretended like nothing happened! T-this isn’t how we used to be,” you bit on your lip, tasting the bitter taste of metallic blood, just so the tears wouldn’t spill. 

“I know…” he muttered, “but why didn’t you just tell me? Then… and even now?”

“I-I was embarrassed,” you muttered shyly. His brows scrunched, embarrassed? why would you be embarrassed for the shitty things she did?

“Why would you be embarrassed?” He asked.

“Because it was true, Eddie,” you blinked away the tears, settling with that uncomfortable feeling.

“What are you talking about, what she did was fuckin’ cruel, and if I knew-”

“N-no, it was true.” You huffed. “Deadbeat parents and an abusive ex-boyfriend… like how cliche could I fucking get?” You wanted to laugh bitterly.

“I-I’m a mess and she’s right… And so were you! It was such a gut punch when you said it to me, but you were right.” Your lip was wobbling, eyes squinted. “I-I ruined your life and-”

“No, don’t fucking say that-”

“But it is true!” You exclaimed with a sad expression, “I ruined your life and I-I should’ve never tried to re-enter it, and I should’ve left you alone.”

“I-I’m sorry, for everything, for LA, I could say that as many times as you need me to…” you sighed. “but I promise you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“W-what?” He stuttered, still struggling to process your words.

“I told you Eddie, I don’t want to do this. As we said, we don’t have to talk to each other this weekend, and afterward, I’ll be gone.” 

“You won’t ever hear from me or see me again.” 

“But that is not what I want!” Eddie exclaimed, desperate, he didn’t want to lose you, and he was going to. There was nothing he could do to stop it. 

He already lost you once, and maybe he could blame you for that, but this one. It was all him. 

He tried to reach for your arm, to touch you again, to feel the warmth he felt a night ago like everything would be just as it was five years ago. But you were quick to take a step back away from him. 

“But it’s what I want.” You tried to speak calmly, your cracking voice fast to fail you. 

“W-what about the album cover?” 

With a touch of bitterness in your tone, you retorted, “I’m sure you can find someone much better than me.”

“C’mon, Pinky, you can’t be serious, that’s like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing-”

“I’d rather be stuck at the record store for the rest of my life,” you muttered bitterly, words cutting through him. You could see how much they were hurting him, but there was no other way, you had to protect your own feelings. 

Staying away from Eddie was the only thing you could do to stop hurting yourself and everyone else. You had already caused enough problems for everyone in the room. 

Eddie's voice turned somber as he uttered, “So, this is it?” A sense of defeat washed over him.

“We’ve been doing it for the past five years, why should it change now?”

Because I want you. 

Because I haven’t been able to do that for the past five years either. 

Because I could never stay away from you. 

Because it has always been you, from the moment we met. 

Because I love you. Always have, always will.

Was what he should’ve said, some grand speech, something to sweep you off your feet, something to change your mind. Anything. So he wouldn’t lose you again, so you could finally realize how much he cared about you, how much he would always care about you.

But nothing came out of his trembling lips, not even a sound.

He stood there, feeling as if time froze around him. Like he was stuck, everything around him moved, but he didn’t, he couldn’t.

He watched you go back to Steve. Steve comfortably threw an arm around your shoulder and let you know that you could stay here with him and that he would drive you to The Hideout tonight.

And it should have been him. Him, who offered to take you to his place. Him, you spent the rest of your day with.

Him, who you ran off to whenever you felt sad or when your heart was broken. He couldn’t accept that he was no longer the one you ran to, but the one who caused all of it. 

✦ final authors note — OKAY. so please let me know if u want flashbacks in the next chapter bc thats what i had in mind but idk how yall feel abt flashbacks but i swear they will reveal A LOT LMAO.

also please interact/reblog/like or give me any feedback to support me ily &lt;3

permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.) @siriuslysmoking @plk-18 @emxxblog @babyloutattoo89 @micheledawn1975 @sole-screws @joannamuns9n @trixyvixx @fangirling-4-ever @browneyes528

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things fanfic #edide munson #eddie munson x you #getaway car series #getaway car

[wise-tortoise]

Hi! i’m new to chengxian. so i was wondering, do you have any recs please? preferably long one shots (10k+) and set in the original location (i don’t like modern aus mostly as they are based in the us or uk). sorry for all the stipulations!

HELLO ANON AND WELCOME TO CHENGXIAN!!

I am DELIGHTED to be a source of fic recs, and I have JUST the fics for you.

First of all, I highly recommend checking out the various ao3 collections of past chengxian events, such as Chengxian Happy Ending Fest, or Chengxian Minibang 2023, Chengxian Week 2020, Chengxian Week 2021 , Our Meeting is Inevitable or The Chengxian+ Collection, which are a goldmine of wonderful fics. I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding something to your taste among them!

Now, on to my personal recommendations, under the read more because this got LONG.

Based on what you said you'd prefer, the fic all my dreams have come and gone a half a million times by iri_vail sounds like something you'd enjoy. It's a lovely post-canon shuangjie reconciliation fic, 10k words, with wonderful art. There's frogs too!

consider rivers by Lirazel, 9k, canon divergence fic with no war that rewrote my brain chemistry. Jiang Cheng wants Wei Wuxian to marry Jiang Yanli: lots of yunmeng trio feels, lots and lots and lots of pining.

after the sun sets by Artemis1000, 12k words, it's an amazing fic set during sunshot campaign, lots of hurt/comfort, lots of love and understanding and softness between our two favorite miscommunicators.

electricity between both of us by zyprexd is an absolutely incredible series of two fics that make me go feral. Past w4ngxian, tentative shuangjie reconciliation with long overdue communication, lots of feelings aknowledged and accepted, Wei Wuxian introspection.

Turn Back, Dull Earth by groundwiremantaray, 8k, canon divergence, a whole lot of fluff (with a delightful twist). Though not a oneshot, if you like to read happy times with chengxian, this is absolutely the fic for you.

this love that I most fear by Runespoor, 25k words divided in three chapters, in which a coreless Jiang Cheng has to aknowledge Wei Wuxian as his bastard brother in order for him to become sect leader, with all the relative implications. An angsty delight!

Little Sesame by Rurtle, which is an absolute must read. In which the summoning ritual goes wrong and Wei Wuxian reincarnates into a dog. Shenanigans ensue.

born of waters like blood by Artemis1000 (same Artemis as before) which is one of my absolute favorite fics of all time. Chengxian baby made of resentment and lake waters! Chengxian being dads! An unspecified number of eyes!!!! This fic is a bit shorter than the others I've recced, but absolutely worth reading.

letters from inside the storm by serein, in which everyone has a very bad time (not me though, I enjoyed this IMMENSELY), double whump with a very tentative reconciliation.

if tomorrow would ever come... by Midori_99, 17k, a reincarnation fic in which Wei Wuxian after his death reincarnates into a playful little fox and, despite his best efforts, finds himself once again in Lotus Pier, beside Jiang Cheng (and, really, there's no better place for him to be). The good, GOOD, cathartic angst right here, good food for the soul.

If you'd like EVEN MORE chengxian fics, my bookmarks are open and the fics are all ready to receive lots of love (and of course, if you like, there's my fics too, but they're only open to registered users)

Alright, that's definitely not all the fics I would like to rec, but that's about all I can fit in a single post before it becomes too long.

I suggest of course that you check out other works by the authors I listed, as they are all incredibly talented (and I really really wish I could put more of them here but I tried to contain myself with word count and setting as per your request)

Thank you for the ask anon, I hope you'll enjoy your stay in the chengxian side of fandom and I wish you a wonderful day!!

#mdzs #chengxian #xiancheng #yunmeng shuangjie #cql #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #the untamed #anon ask

[wolfstarhaven]

FLATMATES (part 2)

Two years ago today I made my flatmates rec list, which is my favourite list ever. I never get tired of this trope. So, since it is once again my birthday, here are some lovely additions!

losing my mind, thinking about you, by drowsyanddazed (16k)

The black kohl along his water line is smudged, black flecks of it dusting his cheekbone. His hair is still flying everywhere, whipping across his face. He’s a mess. He’s the blurred edges of a photograph. He’s a heartbeat and stinging lungs. He’s the rattling behind Remus’ ribcage. And Sirius grins at him, tongue between teeth —illecebrous and tantalising and all things beautiful and dangerous— and all the air rushes out of Remus’ lungs in one fell swoop. He’s lightheaded and dizzy and burning.

An absolute gem, this one. In which the first wizarding war is on the rise, but the boys are flatmates and they go grocery shopping!! The jealousy and pining is perfect.

Heat the Winter Floods + A Little Sincerity Is a Dangerous Thing, by daphnaea (6k)

(Two parts)

It was funny, Sirius thought, the things you could fail to learn about your best mate despite sharing a dormitory for seven years.

A story of pining for you flatmate, in two parts. Set during the first war, it’s slightly angsty but oh so lovely and well-written.

Seeing Other People, by swings_and_roundabouts (21k)

Where Sirius is hopelessly in love with Remus Lupin who is always just a little out of reach. But their friends with benefits situation isn't sustainable, Remus is so close yet so far away and Sirius doesn't know if he can take it anymore.

Once again, they live together and are friends with benefits. Lots of pining, jealousy and idiocy follows, as well as a sort of “break-up”. This is quite angsty, very much a “requited unrequited love” kind of fic (which I LOVE).

Friends Don't, by shadow_prince (2k)

That didn’t stop him from glancing over the top of the paper to where he stood at the edge of the hallway. He was frozen in the way you froze just before you kicked off the ground on your broom. Right before a runner pushed off the block. Right before you dove off a cliff into the sea. Frozen with the promise of movement about to burst forth.

Sirius watched him, holding his breath.

“You’re lying.”

Short and sweet, less angst and more fluff!

the son and heir of nothing in particular, by @steelycunt (24k)

Remus is nineteen and tired, now. And he knows that if he and Sirius were ever going to become anything—if Sirius loved Remus the way Remus loves, and will probably always love, him—it already would’ve happened.

Another fic that proves that this trope is the absolute best. In which Remus is a stubborn prick (we love him) who refuses to move in with Sirius — but in the end he has no choice. There’s arguing, hurt feelings, and a stupid amount of pining. And, let’s now forget, the writing is out of this world lovely. Ridi’s characterisation of Remus is to die for. A must read!

Don't Make Me Beg For You (Because I'll Beg For You), by CuriousMay (14k)

“What?”

"You know, Rita Schaffer? She was that 4th year who had that incident with Bleatchley's Beauty Bleach in '75 just after our exams and Madam Pomfrey had to regrow all her hair-" Remus starts as he puts down the tomato but Sirius cuts him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

"No, not that, you idiot. The other bit. You said - you said you're in love with me?"

This fic was so much fun! In which Remus thinks that everyone, including Sirius, knows that he’s in love with him. Turns out: Sirius didn’t know. Some big realisations, pining and lots of sexual tension ensue.

Practical Oddities, by lurikko (48k)

Regulus needs a place to stay, Remus needs to get over Sirius. It’s August 1979 and things are getting out of hands.

In which Remus lives on Sirius’ sofa. That is, until Regulus shows up. Slow burn and beautiful pining in a First War setting. Lovely!

stars by the pocketful, by simplyylupin (16k)

But Sirius, Sirius is winter. He’s the cold mornings that startle you awake the instant you step outside. He’s the intricate snowflakes, the blunt shards of ice. He’s the holiday cheer, the twinkling lights and dainty decorations. He’s Aurora Borealis twisting around blinking stars. Remus always feels like he’s dying during winter. And if that isn’t the most ironic thing.

A wintery muggle au 5+1 fic full of not so subtle mutual pining. Very very cute!

Hic sunt dracones, by aryastark_valarmorghulis (5k)

Remus and Sirius try putting on makeup and end up trying a lot more: sex, kissing, and maybe even talking about feelings.

Well-written and spicy🌶️ Also very sweet! Poor Remus is pining like mad, and then he has to live through Sirius putting makeup on him? Torture☺️

I've sat upon the setting sun, by fiddleleafedfig (4k)

Sirius could see the swoop of long eyelashes that lined the brown eyes, still glued to the notebook in front of him. And as those sunrays danced, Sirius felt something heavy hit the pit of his stomach, simultaneously lodging itself in his throat.

A short story of falling in love over the years. They don’t live together in the beginning, but they do later on. Sweet fluff!

xx Elliot

#wolfstar #wolfstar rec #r/s #wolfstar fics #remus lupin #flatmates #living together #post hogwarts

[babygirlchuuya]

Trigun fic recs!!!

Putting together some of my favorite trigun fics for Trigun Fanfiction Appreciation Week!! Thank you to @trigunfanfic for putting this together 💓

One Shots

eidetic by pinepinefir

rated G, 2k words, vashmeryl

cute scene about pining through sharing smoothies

A New Scar by AyyanaJay

rated M, 2.7k words, vashmeryl

meryl protects vash from a gunman

pick your poison by pawprint_paxillus (note: this one is archive locked. you'll need an ao3 account to view)

rated T, 5.4k words, vashwood

vash is poisoned and it's up to wolfwood to keep him safe

never count the cost (it's worth all that's lost) by HearJessRoar

rated G, 1.3k words, vashmeryl

meryl is stressed out during the gang's travels, vash tries to cheer her up

pyre man by spinoffprotagonist (note: this one is archive locked. you'll need an ao3 account to view)

rated T, 4.4k words, stryfewood

wolfwood gets hurt, meryl gets upset

Touch Starved by farore_or_less

rated E, 6k words, vashmeryl

some good ol' pining and smut under the guise of getting an exclusive interview ;)

music of the moment by corgiss

rated T, 4.9k words, mashwood

mashwood infiltrate a party, hilarity ensues

The Art of the Date by FullCry (SpicyChestnut)

rated T, 2k words, vashmeryl

meryl teaches vash how to flirt well, perhaps a little too well

The thomas in the room by AnimeGrimmy

Rated T, 7.6k words, vashmeryl

post badlands rumble, meryl confronts vash about his "death"

Come As You Are by AbysmalJezebel

Rated E, 6.6k words, mashwood

meryl needs to get laid, who better to help her out than a priest and a typhoon??

To Receive by pancake_snacc (note: this one is archive locked. you'll need an ao3 account to view)

Rated T, 2.6k words, gen

the tristamp gang celebrates wolfwood's birthday

Multichaptered

Rotten Work (complete) by Asimovich 

Rated T, 6.5k words, polygun

wolfwood falls ill and realizes the others actually care for him (shocker)

Reporter's Notes (series, in progress) by MusEqMeg

various ratings, 112.4k total, vashmeryl

focuses on development of vashmeryl during tristamp through meryl's reports on vash, ranges from super fluffy to very angsty, includes separate smut and filler fluff as supplements to the main story

#trigunfanficappreciation #trigun #trigun stampede #fanfics #vashmeryl #vashwood #mashwood

[rollercoasterwords]

wlw marauders fics

hello! this has taken quite a while to put together, but for anyone interested -- here is a list of a bunch of wlw marauders fics i have read and enjoyed :) green for a happy ending, blue for an angsty one, pink for something bittersweet <3

(note - on some of the longer fics/wips i have not finished reading the entire thing/all of what's available yet - those ones are marked with a *)

oneshots/single ch fics

seasons in desire, by dykesiriusblack (@dykesiriusblack)

pairing: dorlene

rating: M

word count: 12k

description: muggle university au; friends to lovers; mutual pining; get-together fic. one of my absolute faves, laura's writing always makes me want to bite my own fingers off like baby carrots.

let the ghosts sleep tonight, by outlaw_baby

pairing: dorlene

rating: unrated

word count: 7k

description: another one of my absolute faves; canon-compliant wartime look at dorlene's relationship w lots of mutual pining and some of the most beautiful writing i've ever read

Hey Dorcas, by moonymoment (@blurryayse)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 14k

description: friends to lovers, tracing dorcas + marlene's relationship at hogwarts over time. everything jude writes makes me want to rip my hair out and knit it into a blanket and curl up under that blanket and stare at the wall for three hours and this is no exception. happy ending

'81, posted anonymously

pairing: dorlene (kinda)

rating: T

word count: 4.6k

description: AU where marlene survived the first war with voldemort; a story about dealing with grief after the death of dorcas and so many other loved ones.

marlene mckinnon is not a coward, by AllThisAndLoveTooWillRuinUs (@wishingitwerewolfstar)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 6k

description: follows marlene coming to terms with her sexuality during the first war w/ voldemort, coming out, and confessing her feelings to dorcas.

sweet as rot, by vaindumbass

pairing: dorlene

rating: M

word count: 7.3k

description: au where marlene + dorcas are the ones to kill peter instead of sirius; they get thrown in azkaban. very much a toxic relationship, hurt/no comfort. gut-wrenchingly poetic writing

As The Light Disperses, by blanketed_in_stars (@blanketed-in-stars)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 4k

description: canon-compliant; follows dorcas + marlene's relationship during the first war up

Oxygen, by Stupidsimp100 (@stupidsimp100)

pairing: marylily

rating: T

word count: 3.7k

description: canon-compliant; unrequited love. james + lily announce their engagement during the first war with voldemort. mary + lily have a conversation about it.

Painting Marlene, by You_must_tell_them_stories

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 3.5k

description: dorcas is an artist; a look at dorcas + marlene's relationship through her art

hackery, by orphan_account

pairing: dorlily (dorcas/lily)

rating: T

word count: 1.8k

description: dorcas + lily get caught in an ambush during the war. honestly reads like a very long and beautiful poem i love it SO much and i am so sad that the work was orphaned bc i want to find whoever wrote it and give them a passionate kiss on the lips

Soft, Strong, Disposable, by doshu (@vdoshu)

pairing: narcissa black/mrs. zabini

rating: T

word count: 1.4k

description: a series of letters tracing the relationship between lavilla zabini and narcissa black

All the truths untold, by SeaDragons

pairing: dorlene

rating: M

word count: 11.3k

description: follows marlene + dorcas in their time with the Order during the first war; marlene thinks dorcas is the spy and is determined to catch her out

By the Book, by Squidgilator (@squidgilator)

pairing: dorlene

rating: G

word count: 6.5k

description: the Hogwarts library is intent on getting Marlene to read a weird old book, for some reason. Dorcas gets involved, shenanigans ensue. super cute and sweet

room 41 (kiss me goodybe every time you leave), by fivecenturiesverse (@fivecenturiesverse)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 1.6k

description: marlene and dorcas steal away to hotel rooms in the middle of the war

Wildflower About You, by jennandblitz

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 1.7k

description: modern + muggle au; marlene runs a cafe with sirius + remus, and she's been trying to work up the nerve to ask out her flower supplier

Perennial Tears, by violet_storms

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 1.3k

description: a short + beautifully written story about narcissa + lily's relationship. canon-compliant

Sugar Burn, by Remedial

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: G

word count: 1.4k

description: lily catches narcissa's eye at a bar

set me down in your warm arms, by NoStringsOnMe (@martelldoran)

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 2.6k

description: lily and narcissa accidentally get themselves snowed into a cabin

Better By Far You Should Forget by violet_storms

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 1.1k

description: achingly beautiful little oneshot of narcissa reflecting on lily's birthday

it can't be hard to find a present right?? (wrong) by dduucckk (@inthewild-flowers)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 1.9k

description: modern + muggle au; dorcas and marlene are both trying to find last minute xmas presents for each other

if you can't love me honey go on just pretend by basketofnovas (@slashmarks)

pairing: bellatrix black/amelia bones

rating: T

word count: 3k

description: bellatrix decides to flirt with amelia bones for fun; it turns into something more

just hold out for tomorrow, by the_crownless_queen

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 1k

description: marlene + dorcas; a conversation during the war

How It Feels When We Fall, by veeagainst (@veeagainsttheday)

pairing: lilylene (marlene/lily)

rating: unrated

word count: 1.7k

description: traces marlene + lily's relationship during the war

will the muses sing our names?, by the_crownless_queen

pairing: dorlene

rating: unrated

word count: 2.2k

description: au where voldemort wins the first war, and the survivors have to find ways to keep on living

this is how it feels (when you fight back), by saiditallbefore (@saiditallbefore)

pairing: lily/alice

rating: T

word count: 3.2k

description: au where james + frank die, but lily + alice live. they end up going into hiding together, which leads them to grow closer + eventually makes plans to seek revenge...

laughing 'til our ribs get tough (but that will never be enough), by sapphfics

pairing: lilylene (lily/marlene)

rating: G

word count: 1.2k

description: a look at lily + marlene's relationship through the years, with an ending that gutted me

Darling, Tell Me Your Name, by shessocold (@hp-shessocold)

pairing: lilylene (lily/marlene)

rating: unrated

word count: 1.3k

description: marlene plays quidditch; lily definitely doesn't have a crush...

Devil's Snare, by elicitillicit

pairing: alice/narcissa

rating: M

word count: 1.4k

description: canon-compliant; friends-to-lovers; traces alice + narcissa's relationship throughout the years

Risking It All, by JackNSallyGal

pairing: marylene

rating: G

word count: 2k

description: during the first war, marlene and mary follow sirius on a mission to rescue lily

i hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old, posted anonymously

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: G

word count: 3k

description: lily + narcissa meet at the start of a zombie apocalypse (!!!!)

darling, don't leave me waiting (one night, i will be your star), by aheartcalledhome

pairing: narcissa/marlene

rating: T

word count: 1.7k

description: after it's all over, narcissa reflects on her relationship with marlene

auburn and ivory, by herrlucifer

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 3.3k

description: sad + sweet oneshot following lily + narcissa's relationship during their hogwarts years

The Captain's Girl, by JackNSallyGal

pairing: mary/emma vanity

rating: T

word count: 4.7k

description: after mary is attacked by mulciber, the slytherin quidditch captain becomes unusually protective of her

green looks good on you, by humanveil (@humanveil)

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 5k

description: a prank war between hogwarts houses leads to an unexpected relationship between lily and narcissa

bend towards the sun, by lastwingedthing

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 5.3k

description: narcissa + lily find themselves spending a day together after ending up in the same apothecary for the same reason

Between Prospects, by MiraMira

pairing: rita skeeter/mrs. zabini

rating: M

word count: 6.3k

description: canon-compliant fic tracing the relationship of rita skeeter + thea zabini - listen i would never in a million years expect to enjoy this ship but this story is so good i love it

Blindness and Stars, by featherxquill

pairing: rita skeeter/amelia bones

rating: E (this one is...very sexually explicit lmao so be prepared for that if u decide to read)

word count: 11.3k

description: canon-compliant; follows the developing relationship between rita skeeter + amelia bones as they both deal with politics in the aftermath of the first wizarding war

i would kill for some company (temporarily), by lesbianregulusblack (@lesbiansiriusblack)

pairing: pandalily (pandora/lily)

rating: M

word count: 4.7k

description: pandora is a vampire, lily is a human; three guesses what happens next! (this one is very violent + graphic, even though it has a happy ending it is definitely not for the faint of heart. please read tags + expect gore if u decide to read!)

Deadhorse, by thebloatedfrog (@thebloatedfrog)

pairing: dorlene

rating: E

word count: 11.4k

description: marlene is working at denali national park for the summer, dorcas is camping in her van. geology + road trips + alaska + lesbians!!!

carmine, by moonylove (@lesbiansforjamespotter)

pairing: dorlene

rating: G

word count: 1.2k

description: marlene needs to apologize; essentially 1000 words of poetic + beautiful musings about lesbianism &lt;3

Speak Now, by arakhnee (@arakhnee)

pairing: marylily

rating: T

description: lily is marrying james. mary doesn't want her to.

multi-ch fics

how the flowers rise and open, by gaywitches* (@daphnedumaurigay)

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: M

word count: 40k

description: "Despite the sneaking around and the urgency that serve as constant reminders that this is forbidden, clandestine, there’s no denying the quiet domesticity that creeps in at the edges. That somehow plunges straight through Lily’s chest and grabs her heart with both fists making her want, and want, and want, refusing to let go no matter how hard she tries to dig it out.

But, hey, things could be worse. At least she’s not in love with her.

Things are totally under control, and not at all likely to blow up in her face at any moment."

Lily is a smitten idiot, Narcissa is a complicated mess, and things are about as shambolic and sweet as trying to eat a sticky toffee pudding with no hands.

No Strings Attached, by allthedeadgays*

pairing: dorlene; side wolfstar, jegulus, marylily

rating: G

word count: 53k

description: Marlene, Sirius, James, and Regulus have been waiting for the opportunity to compete at the Battle of the Bands for a long, long time; and they are quite sure that this will be an easy win. Until, that is, they find out that a certain band has also signed up— one that they have known and despised for months. Eager to emerge victorious, their fellow classmates Remus, Dorcas, Mary, and Peter are willing to do whatever it takes, but beware, unexpected feelings may arise…

wips

Your Laugh Like Flowers, by andromedas31

pairing: dorlene; side wolfstar, jegulus, rosekiller

rating: unrated

word count: 14k

description: Marlene and Dorcas are on opposing teams of the most suspense-filled war for the Quidditch Cup Hogwarts has ever seen. James Potter spreads the word about the teachers' supposed underground betting ring, and more importantly, how Dumbledore bet in favour of Gryffindor's win. Naturally, inter-house chaos ensues. Naturally, in spite of it all, Marlene and Dorcas manage to fall in love.

Invisible String, by a1phab3ts0up*

pairing: dorlene; side marylily, wolfstar, jegulus

rating: M

word count: 38.6k

description: And isn't it just so pretty to think. All along there was some Invisible String, tying Dorcas to Marlene.

pirate AU of the misadventures between two captains forced to work together while avoiding the occasional near death experience and desperately trying (and failing) to not fall in love along the way.

Mutually Assured Destruction, by Aiofhan

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 4.3k

description: Marlene finds herself stuck in an advanced Arithmancy class with Dorcas Meadowes and basically no one else; if she can't find a different class to take, she'll end up stuck sitting next to an uptight Slytherin all year. Oh, the horror.

to all the lions i've loved before, by shslflamingarrow (@shslflamingarrow)

pairing: lilylene (marlene/lily)

rating: T

word count: 16.2k

description: based on "To All the Boys I've Loved Before" - Lily Evans' love letters are her most secret prized possessions. She writes love letters when she has a crush so intense there's nothing else she can do. The four letters in total are Frank Longbottom the head boy from her first year, Remus Lupin her third year study buddy, Marlene McKinnon long-time best friend, and the newest one. James Potter. When her letters somehow get out, after James has settled ona new girlfriend, the only person she can turn to for help is Marlene and her own letter.

i'm a sucker for the wicked, by siriusisaswiftie*

pairing: dorlene; begins with pandora/dorcas, eventual side pandalily

rating: M

word count: 10k

description: Dorcas Meadowes is doing fine, thank you very much. She’s doing well in school, she’s finally found a group of friends that care about and support her, and to top it all off, she has an incredible girlfriend who she loves. Pandora is kind, caring, and everything Dorcas has ever looked for in a partner, and she refuses to let anything, or anyone, get in the way of her perfect relationship. Especially not Marlene McKinnon and her relentless flirting and ‘don’t care’ attitude.

A Darling, A Demon, A Lamb, by brightened

pairing: alice/lily, james/lily; past marlene/lily

rating: E

word count: 10.8k

description: this story follows lily during the first war; with ever-increasing discrimination against muggleborn wizards, her decision to marry james was more about survival than anything else. and besides, after the death of the woman she loved, what else was she meant to do? (heads up this one is incredibly dark!)

Alaska, by anotherbelladonna

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 2.3k

description: after marlene runs away, she finds herself living with a kind group of strangers and is immediately drawn to her new roommate

strange trails, by lovejoybug

pairing: dorlene (eventually)

rating: T

word count: 14.7k

description: Dorcas Meadowes wasn’t scared of anything – or at least that’s what she’d been telling people for as long as she could talk.

That wasn’t to say there wasn’t anything to be scared about; the Dark Lord was collecting everyone she knew like chocolate frog cards. Eventually she’d have to make her choice – and time was ticking.

in which Dorcas Meadowes, Slytherin’s self-proclaimed bitchiest witch of the generation, faces the trials and tribulations of a (quite literally) cursed love life, a tumultuous residency at the horror that was Nott Manor, and a rather aggressive desire to say to the hell with it all and take matters into her own hands

honey honey, by aeoneskova* (@aeoneskova)

pairing: past dorlene; marlene-centric fic

rating: M

word count: 156k

description: Marlene McKinnion is shunned from the Wizarding World after her insane claims of Sirius Black’s innocence.

Over the next decade, she has made a life for herself in the muggle world, working as a teacher in a Primary School in Surrey.

But when a boy with green eyes and a lightning bolt scar joins her class, she is thrown back into a world she has tried to leave behind, but will do what it takes to make sure he is safe.

canon-divergence au where marlene survives the war

+ bonus! fics abt pre-marauders era wlw

like a flower to the sun, by Krethes (@krethes)

pairing: minerva mcgonagall/poppy pomfrey

rating: M

word count: 2k

description: traces minerva's relationship with poppy over several years

Dark and Fearsome, by chantefable

pairing: walburga black/minerva mcgonagall

rating: G

word count: 3.3k

description: follows walburga + minervas relationship, from walburga's pov. written from first person pov which i personally normally don't vibe with, but the writing is so beautiful on this that i loved it anyway

Dark and Fearsome (The Constant Moon Remix), by The_Wavesinger

pairing: walburga black/minerva mcgonagall

rating: M

word count: 1k

description: a series of moments in walburga + minerva's relationship, caught on the brink of a war

what bitter thing is this?, by the_crownless_queen

pairing: rowena ravenclaw/helga hufflepuff

rating: T

word count: 1.2k

description: rowena can see the future, but nobody ever believes her

Her Fight & Fury, by jadepresley

pairing: minerva mcgonagall/augusta longbottom

rating: T

word count: 6k

description: academic rivals to lovers to exes; so well-written and somehow cute + fun while also being a little heartbreaking

Roots, by acidpop25

pairing: rowen ravenclaw/helga hufflepuff

rating: G

word count: 1.4k

description: short + sweet story about rowena + helga's relationship

Bibliomancy, by redsnake05

pairing: minerva mcgonagall/irma pince (past helga hufflepuff/irma pince)

rating: T

word count: 12.4k

description: irma pince is called into being as the librarian by the four founders of hogwarts. this story traces her life and service to the hogwarts library. so unexpectedly beautiful and one of the most unique fics i've ever read

With Love, The Pixies (WIP), by pumpkin_heist_lattes*

pairing: minerva mcgonagall/poppy pomfrey; side rolanda hooch/pomona sprout

rating: T

word count: 22k (ongoing WIP)

description: Minerva McGonagall is split down the middle. One half of her is the perfect student, the uptight girl who cares more about grades than feelings. The other half strains to run wild, playing pranks and laughing in the way only her closest friends get to see. Neither half has time for a silly crush on the Quidditch team healer.

Poppy Pomfrey only has one goal - make it through Hogwarts and learn enough to become the Healer her family needs. Friends are barely part of that plan, let alone falling for her judgy rival.

Before the Marauders, there were the Pixies. And Minerva, Rolanda, Poppy, and Pomona have their own share of heartache, laughter, mischief, and angst to get through first.

+ here's my own writing, bc why not :)

The Hand That Feeds, by rollercoasterwords

pairing: dorlene; side wolfstar + jily

rating: M

word count: 235k

description: Marlene McKinnon is a mess. She can’t sleep, she’s almost certainly going to fail all her NEWTs, and she’s 99% sure that if they don’t win the Quidditch Cup this year James Potter will throw himself headfirst off the Astronomy Tower. On top of all that, there’s a war on, yet their professors seem determined to pretend that the biggest problem any of them are facing is finding a Ministry internship. Marlene’s final year at Hogwarts has barely started, and she’s already pretty sure it couldn’t get any worse—that is, until she shows up for her first Potions class and hears the assignment.

Dorcas Meadowes is a stone-cold bitch. At least, that’s what everyone says. She doesn’t need well-meaning professors or overeager classmates or teammates or boyfriends or friends. She doesn’t need anything except to be left alone, the way she likes, until the day she finally leaves school. And she certainly doesn’t need Marlene McKinnon, with her sharp tongue and her snorting laugh and her stupid shiny hair, who seems intent on ruining everything that Dorcas has been working towards for the past two years.

canon-compliant fic that follows dorcas + marlene from 1977-1981

Alice, Look At Me by rollercoasterwords

pairing: alice/narcissa

rating: M

word count: 14.6k

description: canon-compliant fic following narcissa's life from 1955-1993; friends to lovers to a never-ending "what if"

Emmeline: Spring 1981 by rollercoasterwords

pairing: dorcas/emmeline

rating: M

word count: 5.2k

description: this a single-chapter oneshot from a series of oneshots written as companion pieces to atyd - sirius's pov; however, it can be read as a stand-alone, so i'm including it here :) a look at dorcas + emmeline's relationship during the first wizarding war

#fic recs #wlw marauders #wlw fics #if anyone has recs to add please feel free!! #also if anyone happens to know the tumblr for any of the untagged writers #please lmk! #txt

[critter-rarepair-reccs]

We are halfway through another week, my friends, and so we have yet another recc list for you! This week, we have twelve angsty fics! As always, you can find them below the cut and if you check any of them out, I encourage you to leave kudoes and comments to spread the rarepair love 💕

I Have Been A Fool For Lesser Things by A_Orbit (3,149 words, Teen) Pairing: Veth Brenatto/Caleb Widogast (Widobrave) Warnings: None

Trying to get a hotel room for the night leads to Caleb and Nott pretending to be married to each other. Fluff and angst.

Reccer Says: Amazing character voices!

Looking for a feeling that I can't remember by CatcherWrites (2,684 words, Teen) Pairing: Ashton Greymoore/Laudna Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Swearing, General Laudna and Ashton Trauma

Team Issylra are making camp by a river when Ashton and Laudna discuss how slow their hair grows. Angsty conversations ensue and they make a pact to cut each others hair.

Reccer Says: It's not too heavy of a fic but that doesn't take away from the tragic implications.

The Last Safe House in Rexxentrum by Operafloozy (13,266 words, Explicit) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Original Female Character Warnings: Unhappy Ending, Modify Memory, Discussion of Feeblemind

Five years before a group of misfits came together in Trostenwald, Astrid Beck asks a stranger to look into some potentially modified memories.

Reccer Says: It's a juicy and complicated look at how Astrid might have reacted to Bren's escape, from an outsider's point of view.

polishing the apple eris threw to shake the dead leaves down by grayintogreen (3,558 words, Teen) Pairing: Cree Deeproots/Lucien Tavelle Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Minor Character Death

A Locked Tomb fusion fic featuring Necromancer!Cree and Cavalier!Lucien and the horrifying implications of the Lyctor process.

Reccer Says: I enjoyed it!

though the scars remain by amateurwordbender (1,472 words, Teen) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve (Blumenduo) Warnings: Implied/Referenced Torture

Astrid is punished for letting the Mighty Nein escape, and she and Eadwulf talk about it.

Reccer Says: So much juicy Blumentrio angst packed in one short fic! Several of the lines in this have stayed in my head since I first read it.

Victim of Convenience by se1ze (54,243 words, Explicit) Pairing: Kingsley Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidoking) Warnings: Sex While Sick

Essek has been bailing Kingsley out of legal trouble in Rosohna and letting him crash at his towers for some time and the pair have grown close. When Essek falls severely ill, Kingsley with him to look after him. Things escalate between them, which both are pleased about. There's just one complication, in the form of one Caleb Widogast, who Essek has recently begun a relationship with and who Kingsley has been hopelessly pining after for months. Things get messy.

Reccer Says: A wonderful combination of fun dynamics, messy relationship angst, sickfic goodness, and hot sex. Kingsley and Essek are such a good pair, I love their banter. The absolutely disastrous state of King and Caleb's relationship at the start is the fic is so heartaching, with the shadow of past Widomauk hanging over them. And the recently established Shadowgast compliments both of those duos so well!!! I adore the different complications that crop up along the way and the way they're all resolved in the end. Highly recommend! Also, the two previous entries in the series are excellent, though they're just Shadowgast on their own.

His Last Night by Twistmalchik (2,617 words, Explicit) Pairing: Thorn/Vax'ildan Warnings: None

Set during the events of Kith & Kin, Vax's first kiss with Thorn leads to his first time with him. All the while, the shadow of the Shademaster hangs over them.

Reccer Says: I adore Kith & Kin to no end and I loved Vax and Thorn's relationship. This is a fun expansion of what they were able to have together during the events of the book!

Time Will Tell by DEV0URMOUS (25,639 words, Mature) Pairing: Yussa Errenis/Original Male Character Warnings: None

Yussa invites Iskamyr, a long-time friend of his from the Dynasty, on a trip into the Happy Fun Ball with him. Both are oblivious to the other's long-standing feelings for them. Pining ensues.

Reccer Says: There is no fic that demonstrates the absurdity of wizards better than this. Two hundred years!!! These idiots pined over each other for two hundred years!!! Oh my god! It's great, it's so great. They're both 1200 years old (Yussa is a dragon and Iskamyr is consecuted) and they're still terrible at feelings. But also! A lot of it comes down to cultural misunderstandings, like Iska doesn't know until the fic ends that Yussa is a dragon and if he did, maybe he would've caught on to Yussa's affection sooner. But he didn't and it took the two of the forever and honestly I love that for them.

woven of (moon)light by viciousmollymaukery (2,315 words, Teen) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: References to severe injury

After his wizards Teleport into the middle of the Blooming Grove, nearly dead at the hands of an Aeorian creature, Molly has a lot of feelings about his partners and their mysterious city in the north. Luckily, he has a simple solution in mind.

Reccer Says: It's the perfect balance between sweet and angsty. I love Shadowidomauk so much and it's fun to see someone look at how the wizards Aeor expeditions might look in a world where they're dating Molly too! Also, Moonweaver cleric Molly is too damn perfect, I love it so much.

it's 3 am (I must be lonely) by Meridas (1,024 words, Teen) Pairing: Queerplatonic Mollymauk Tealeaf/Yasha Nydoorin Warnings: None

Yasha has a nightmare while out camping alone. She calls Molly in her panic and he comforts her.

Reccer Says: I love this series so much and this entry in particular has stuck with me since I first read it!! QPP circus kids are kind of everything to me and this is just such a perfect little snippet of them; they’re hurting but they love and take care of each other above anything.

I blame it on my own sick pride by MarsBar2019 (11,918 words, Explicit) Pairing: Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast (Widofjolly) Warnings: Non-Consensual Voyeurism

Fjord overheard Molly and Caleb having sex one night and gets off on it. But paper thin inn walls work both ways, Molly and Caleb know Fjord heard them, and they take the opportunity to invite him into their bed.

Reccer Says: It’s very very hot and Fjord’s self-loathing (which is only amplified by him getting off on listening to the two of them) is such a fun complimentary pairing to the overall horniness of the fic.

I'll crawl home to him by BananasofThorns (20,262 words, Teen) Pairing: Queerplatonic Fjord/Caleb Widogast (Widofjord) Warnings: None

AU where Caleb and Fjord met a few years pre-nein. Now Fjord has been taken by the Iron Shepherds, and Caleb has to team up with the "Mighty Five" to have a chance to get him back.

Reccer Says: Looove that Iron Shepherds arc angst. Plus queerplatonic widofjord, and the *devotion,* like Caleb was willing to go in there after him *alone,* aaaaa

Thank you for joining us this week’s recc list! All the love to everyone who submitted a fic 💕 All enclosed recommendations were submitted by the community via our submissions form, which you can find here. All fic information is as it was provided by the reccer, so it may not be accurate to the author’s intent or the precise contents of the fic itself. Please assume good intent from all parties 💕

Submissions for next week’s list are already open! We’ll be featuring Spring. If you have any you’d like to highlight, you can send them in here. The week after that, the theme is Jester Rarepairs and the weeks after that we’re taking recommendations for Alternate Universes and Hurt/Comfort! Submissions for all of these themes are currently open.

If you want more rarepair fic, check out @cr-summer-wildflowers and their event collections on ao3! If you want some friendship after all this romance, take a look at @critter-genfic-events and their recc lists! And if you’re interested in everyone’s favorite wizards, you can’t go wrong with the lists at @aeor-is-for-reccing !

Thanks all and have a lovely day/night/timezone! 💕

#widobrave #ashton x laudna #astrid x oc #cree x lucien #blumenduo #shadowidoking #thorn x vax #yussa x oc #shadowidomauk #molly x yasha #widofjolly #widofjord #critical role #cr fanfic #critter rarepair recc lists

[sisterofficerlucychen]

Chenford pining era! Let's GOOOOO!! I'm so excited (it's what's keeping me sane) that we will get some more scenes like the promo clip for 6x07. Pining and angst, after being together ❤️

OMG PLS ♡ I'M SO HERE FOR PINING ERA 2.0

someone mentioned earlier an example of what this could look like and i just aldkfjadsfl because it's sooo good??? like just the little moments where something might happen — an almost kiss, a brushing graze, a stolen look??? more parallels to 4x01???? more parallels to other angsty moments in general?? and then the progression maybe of that angst that leads to play teasing and flirty banter?? 👀

but also the comedic potential it has too? let me set a scene real quick, imagine this is a cold open: tim and lucy are riding together and they get called to a disturbance at a wedding where chaos ensues and in the madness, she catches the bouquet and they just have this moment of sheer awkwardness ... or angst? heh.

#the rookie #chenford #akfjlafdaskl i cannot wait for this to play out ♡ #pay no mind to lucy already having caught a bouquet as an awkward moment #we're ignoring that bc it doesn't count lol

[lucky-numberme]

The House in the Cerulean Sea Fanfic Recs:

Stay (T) by @davidbowielovesyou: A rewrite of THitCS from Arthur's perspective. This is my favorite THITCS fic so far and is beautifully and thoughtfully written. The narration style is WILDLY close to Klune's and the depth that it lends Arthur's perspective is heart-rending and delightful in turn. I genuinely cannot recommend this one enough, especially if you're looking to relive the book.

love like yours will surely come my way (T) by @islanddads: A fluff/angsty You've Got Mail fusion AU in which Arthur and Linus are email pals, unknowingly work in the same office, and hijinks ensue. This was one of my first THitCS fics, and it remains one of my favorites. It's got a pining Arthur and oblivious Linus combo that I find really charming. Very funny. Extremely cute.

You Will Be My Music (T) by @theitalianerd: Linus is shaken after Charles Werner visits the island. To me, this is one of the most complex instances of insecure Linus, and I find the narration both captivating and evocative. Beautifully composed.

Golden Sands (E): Post-book, pre-epilogue fic about Arthur and Linus's developing relationship. A lot of it has to do with growing intimacy and how they learn to build a life together. One of the most kudos-ed works in the fandom for a reason.

Facts and Figures (T): During date night with Arthur, Linus reassesses his experiences of fatphobia and how they affect his self-perception. Fluffy and incredibly sincere.(this fic is mine but I'm going to rec it bc I'm very proud of it)

(note: I've only listed finished fics here, there are many fabulous unfinished fics in the fandom, too)

#thitcs #the house in the cerulean sea #fic rec

[gabessquishytum]

Monster Hob? More like Werewolf Hob, amirite?

AU where all the Endless are werewolves with separate-ish packs (or maybe they're all different creatures, idk) and Dream has his own pack. Fuck it, make it borderline Mafia AU as well.

Hob's a lone/rogue wolf. Maybe he's newly turned, maybe his own pack was killed off when he was a child. Either way it's too dangerous for him to be alone- both for himself and everyone else- and so he gets brought to Dream when he accidentally enters Dream's territory.

They both instantly love the scent of the other and it feels like ~home~ but Dream can't make anything easy and also needs to talk to his pack about adding a new member. They say yes and all but say "hey, maybe you should also make-out lol, you're already eye-fucking each other".

Much pining ensues because they're both dumb.

If it's Omegaverse, maybe they get together because Hob is finally comfortable and safe enough to have a heat after a few months of staying there and shares it with Dream.

If it's not, maybe Hob saves Dream and they both get all angsty about it before kissing <3

Gorgeous <3 I love werewolf!Hob so much!!

Lonewolf Hob also... is so good. Maybe his pack died tragically so he's just roaming around, still grieving, and that's how he fucks up and ends up crossing Dream’s borders. And Dream does not take kindly to having strangers in his territory. He sends his pack members out to bring Hob to him and is all set to "make an example of him" but then... he gets a whiff of Hob’s scent.

Things get complicated. Dream isn't looking for a consort, and Hob thinks he's too damaged to be lovable. So they agree to just... Live alongside each other. No romance, no sex. Hob gets the protection of being in Dream’s pack, and he quickly rises up the ranks to be an important part of group dynamic.

And then just as he's getting settled... Hob goes into heat. He buries himself in his nest, growling at anyone who goes near him. Until Dream cautiously approaches with a big bottle of water and firmly says that Hob needs to drink something or he's going to pass out. Hob lets him into the nest but he's whining desperately, trying not to bend over and present. Dream is secretly just as effected by his sweet scent. He can't just leave Hob along to suffer, so he stays. He curls up at the edge of Hob’s nest and waists for Hob to come to him.

Even though they're both feverish with lust, at first they're just holding each other, scenting each other. Hob curls his limbs around Dream and clings to him like he's terrified of him leaving. He gradually, slowly sheaths Dream’s knot inside himself and they just stay, holding each other and moving slowly until they fall asleep. Still stuck together. Stuck with each other.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

[cinnamontoastcroonch]

OH HONEY MUFFIN POOKIE BEEAAARRR

I NEED YOUR OPPINION FOR MY MCD SCRIPT

Me replacing Aphmau during that one werewolf wedding plot thing where Laurance goes a bit coo-coo, yes or no

HELLO SHNUCKUMS

now this… this is something😈. when i tell you this used to be my little falling asleep scenario for ages. i’m so deadass

naturally my answer is YES. but of course we must discuss all options:

yes- because obviously but also because it would require some other complex plot for whateva the hell aph is doing at that time rather than being the bride—is she imprisoned for “impersonating irene”? is she busy sneaking around for information? was she even imprisoned with the group? many many ideas to juggle. pls share your thoughts

no- this gives you a JUICYYYY OPPORTUNITY. juicy. are you ready? you’re not. imagine this: you get to clap back at aph for her fuckass comment she makes to laurance after the event about his “jealousy”. u get to be like: “pause” and COOK her up over the fact that he did all of that killing out of FEAR for her safety and HIS OWN as well as yours at katelyns. you get to put her in her place and let her know that not everything that man does is out of pining for her, and that he’s been through hell and back (literally) for her. and all she can do is call him JEALOUS. helllll no. and then laurance is all like: “omfg this mf is real as hell.. thas why i love her😏” and then yes. angsty heart-to-heart with laur ensues. and hopefully a well-rehearsed apology from aph.

tell me that ain’t smth.

anyways booboo lmk ur thoughts

#laurance zvahl #mcd #aphblr #laurance mcd #laurance angst #minecraft diaries #asks

[sixthemeowmeow]

HELLO SIX MY POOKIE

ok I decided to hand pick some fics from The Vault for u (I sincerely apologize for how messy it is)

Libertango by anonperegrine ! Absolute classic royal au with delicious delicious slow burn and well deserved fluff at the end (there is also a sequel I haven't read yet though)

If Lying Feels More Comfortable When Wearing A Suit, So Be It by A_Concerned_Citizen ! Ok so. If u find this fic you will quickly realize it's unfinished BUT trust me when I say it still totally works and you won't feel anything like missing or left out so it doesn't rlly matter so long as you ignore it. It's got some good ol fake dating they get all domestic and shit it's so cute

Silver Sails and Indigo Scales by VoidAvon ! I love their fics and this one is a mermaid au! Beautiful writing and there are a lot of sorta clueless mermaid Wil and Q hijinks (slow burn too!)

It Is Nothing to Die, It Is Frightful To Not Live by Aba_02_Cash ! Q helps Wil out of a horrible winter storm and soft shit ensues, literally my favorite fic of all time and while you're at it go read all their other fics if ur in the mood of hurt Wil getting taken care by Q

the sunrise is sleeping by ghostieZone ! Q coming home from work to see Wil still sleeping in his bed it's super cute and shit they are just sadly yearning here but FOREHEAD KISSES

What Happens in Las Nevadas, Stays in Las Nevadas by Paperturtledove ! Wil and Q doesn't remember what they did drunk last night, and if u read the tags. Accidental marriage baby! Also a little bit of preening at the start

Meet the Minecrafts by Paperturtledove (again! I didn't even realize they wrote this one too until now) ! Wil invites Q to dinner to the Minecraft household! Shenanigans ensue. Phil and techno are done with their shit

Seniors by d0gteeth ! Tntduo as you guessed it! Seniors. It's pretty short and sweet and I always have a soft spot for angsty teenagers tntduo so this is one of my favorites

The Sanguine Shore by VoidAvon ! Another mermaid au! This one's a oneshot and is super fluffy and just cute as hell. Wil is a loser who falls in love ♥️ oh and nearly dies but that's beside the point

October is for soulmates and October is for lovers by Endergirl ! You know it's good if it's by endergirl. Just a collection of oneshots and they're all super fucking good !! Can't summarize them all here obviously so looks like you have to read it yourself to find out 👀

Being Revived Was a Real Pain In My Back by mintitack ! Q massages Wilbur's back and it's cute :3

you're gonna drown in your sleep by lav_endermoon ! Wil has a nightmare and Q calms him down. A classic. Q's sudden transition to being tender and soft when he realizes what's up got me tho I love it

We Are All Poetry, Night Vale by alittlebitofwonk ! Pretty short and sweet but with some good ol pining and Q is a tattoo artist Wil is a barista all that good stuff

Candle eyes by VoidAvon ! Rivalry in a zombie apocalypse! Oh what's this? Wil realizes making Q smile is better than riling him up to a fight? This isn't like explicitly romantic but if you can read inbetween the lines... Pretty Gay (also one of my favorites cause Avon's stuff is great)

OK FLASH ROUND

Pretend by Endergirl

automate by darkrooms

we got a love that is hopeless by delusionalbutck

The Pain of No Sleep by Bubblemintbabe

no big deal (I love you) by luminouslotuses

All of Aba_02_Cash's works

All of VoidAvon's works

Another glass of whiskey comin' up! by lovelesmae

Ok...that's all I got in me........my final message........ctntduo gay love..dies

THANK YOU TORI U ARE THE REMAINING BACKBONES OF THE CTNTDUO COMMUNITY THIS VAULT IS INSANE

#dsmp #tntduo

[waitingtobebroken]

TMI Tuesday!

Yes, @weasleywrinkles tagged me last week and I only saw it last Friday, even though I basically live on this website? So what of it?

These are ALL of my current WIPs! I have been exceptionally good and have actually managed to get them down to a reasonable level 🤭

-Ghost hunters AU, as part of The Ineffable Meet-Cute Series, in which Aziraphale and Crowley host a ghost hunting show. Crowley is skeptical, Aziraphale is smitten and they bicker like an old married couple even though they haven't even kissed! There are ghosts and there is flirting and at some point there is even some Aziraphale carrying Crowley bridal style due to some very unfortunate decisions our demon made!

-Snake AU. Okay, so, fair warning this is actual filth. Like, I have no excuse for this??? While researching snake behaviour for my Vet AU, I found some very interesting things about the way snakes act when they are trying to mate and thus... this fic was born. In it, Crowley is trying to seduce Aziraphale like a snake would but doesn't realise it. Aziraphale, who has read every book about snakes and even written some, DOES realise it and is trying desperately to get laid. A comedy of errors ensues.

-And the last one which is a very tentative thing BUT it's still standing proud in my WIP folder, is another one shot for the Flowers From The Grave Of Our Friendship (the pining while fucking fic). It's from Aziraphale's POV and is set in 3004 A.D., when our angel first realised he had feelings for Crowley. Very soft and just SLIIIIIGHTLY angsty haha!

If any of these sound interesting, send me an ask about them! 🥰🥰

#good omens #my writing #tmi tuesday #good omens fic

[wildelydawn]

KP Recfest List: Big Centric/BigChan Edition.

Alright friends, I'm going to use all my brave/courage stats to compose this list of Big-Centric and BigChan fic recs for @kprecfest. This list is definitely not complete, and I'm always looking for more BigChan fics or fics that center around Big as a character, so please feel free to rec your own!

In no particular order:

Student Paper Award by clandestinegardenias

Rating: E Pairing: Big/Chan Status: Completed Summary: "Chan has no doubt that Big sobs into his pillow every time Kinn hands him back a paper covered in red ink. That only makes Chan want him more." Why you should read this: Okay, firstly, I'm totally biased here. As someone who has pined after a professor throughout graduate school, I'm almost embarrassed with how much I related to Big here. Almost is the key word here because that's exactly why this story is so brilliant. Clandestinegardenias has brought my KinnPorsche university!AU dreams to life with just one fic. The pining Big has for Kinn is so well done, and how Chan begins to develop feelings toward Big through helping him with his paper is just *chef's kiss.* All the build up and all the angsty moments cultivate into a very explosive and satisfying ending. On top of this, the little details about research, about the tension in academics, the "and they're sharing offices!" addition. My heart! This fic and every part of it is all so well done that I am on my way to apply to another degree. (Jk... unless... 👀) Favorite line: "Later, they share a pizza and toast each other with bottles of Coke, and Chan tells himself it’s enough."

So lovers say by littlerietveld

Rating: E Pairing: Big/Chan Status: Ongoing (5/?) Summary: "big was never actually in love with kinn, everyone just thinks he is, so chan pretends to date him to put a stop to the rumours. feelings ensue." Why you should read this: Alright. I confess. I love fake dating as a trope, especially when one of the characters has power over another. This story takes this classic and beloved idea and adds a very real twist to it: that maybe everyone knew that Big is/was infatuated with Kinn. Big suffers for it, and the author does a really wonderful job with giving us how Big endures some of that gossip and judgement by detailing Big's workouts and his internal dialogue. Then, in steps Chan, who's facing his own budding feelings after proposing the fake dating. The setting and dialogue in this story make my heart giddy and make me want to throw my pillow. Favorite line: "'Give me a hickey,' Big says in a rush, unable to say anything else, unable to explain what he’s feeling, just needing something to prove his and Chan’s relationship; to show everyone that he is not in love with Kinn; to get them to stop believing this godforsaken rumour."

This Symphony is a Dance Between Us by The_Old_Astronomer

Rating: G Pairing: Big/Chan Status: Ongoing (1/2) Summary: "While recovering from getting shot, Chan leaves the medical wing for a walk and a much needed cigarette. He's out on a balcony, enjoying the night air, when he hears music nearby. Feeling drawn to it, he heads in the direction of the melody to find out who's playing. It's not who he expected at all." Why you should read this: Injured Chan?? Big being a pianist??? Is that not enough to convince you? If not, let Astro's beautiful writing be the reason why you join her BigChan agenda because she's doing a damn good job making it happen. First, I love the fact that Chan is injured in this fic. Seeing the head of the body guards at his most vulnerable is galaxy brain thinking on Astro's part. Second, the set up is actually so exquisitely simple but is so wonderfully developed. At the core of this story is Chan being drawn to beautiful music and then asking Big to continue playing. But Astro takes this and so many emotional and beautiful details to it. What can I say? I love a story that takes seemingly small moments and makes them utterly breathtaking. Astro's written another fantastic BigChan fic, so check that out too. Favorite line: "But hope is a tenacious thing. It’s resilient, like a tree; once the roots are entwined with the earth and the branches start growing, it can be hard to cut down. So despite Chan's intensely pragmatic nature, he waits and he hopes."

Drowning Like a Stone by Nyxelestia

Rating: T Pairing: Big & Chay, KimChay Status: Ongoing (7/?) Summary: "Despite Porsche's desperation and Kim's manipulation, Chay was hit hard by the events of Season 1. Five outside perspectives on Chay grappling with the aftermath of the mafia madness." Why you should read this: I went into this fic knowing that Nyxelestia would bring her phenomenal writing and character analysis into the KimChay fandom and I stayed because of that, but now I am absolutely rooted and emotionally invested because of how she develops the relationship between Big & Chay (and quite frankly, I'm adoring these chapters on them and wouldn't mind another 10 or 100 of them.) Nyxelestia gives a lot of depth to Big and also makes him absolutely hilarious. The idea of Big taking Chay under his wing, hearing him out, giving him lessons on the mafia life and more, is something so brilliant but also incredibly poignant because while Chay was betrayed by Kim, Big was betrayed by Ken, and to put these characters together!!! I just!! I am at a loss. After reading Chapter Five, I leaned back in my chair and whispered, "Oh fuck." Nyxelestia explores the implications of both of these betrayals with such great care, and for that, I am blown away. Favorite line: "In the quiet of the small lounge, Big wondered if his breathing sounded as loud to them as it did to him. Once upon a time, he’d wished someone would say those words to him, he’d dreamed of Kinn saying that to him. But now that it actually happened, Big felt…nothing." Runner up favorite line: "What the fuck did ‘stanned’ mean?"

push and pull by Martynax

Rating: E Pairing: Big/Kinn/Porsche, KinnPorsche Status: Completed Summary: "Look,” Big says, finding enough strength in his body to do this. “You don’t have to worry about me trying anything. You don’t have to tell me that Kinn is yours.” He assumes that that’s what Porsche is trying to do. “I know my place." ... Why you should read this: When this fic first came out, I was biting my fist the entire time. In case you didn't know, Martnax writes some top tier smut for the KinnPorsche fandom and Christ on a pogo stick, did they deliver that and more: with a threesome. Please. But before I get to how incredibly hot their writing is, I do need to point out that Martynax built such a painful and believable background and emotional state for post-canon Big in this story; the details about Big's mother, how he joined the bodyguards, his reluctance to talk to Porsche about his actions/feelings. But it's well balanced with the development of his new relationship with Kinn and Porsche. I, for one, could not stop smiling when Kinn and Porsche crash Big's movie night; the description of Porsche with his head in Big's lap is so sweet even though I know my mans is having a crisis. The ending to this fic is wonderful, emotional, and smutty: everything I would want in a KinnPorscheBig fic. Still hoping for a sequel. Favorite line: "The consequences could be too much. But he also understands that if he doesn’t at least try, he won’t ever forgive himself. He’s already poured his soul out to them, handing them his heart shouldn’t be that difficult."

All Along you were Blooming by mortimerlatrice & nuwildcat

Rating: E Pairing: Big/Tay, KinnPorsche Status: Ongoing (2/3) Summary: "Finding a second chance at love isn't something either of them thought was in the cards. Noticing that there was someone in front of you all along, takes something changing to open your eyes." ... Why you should read this: I don't even know where to begin with this one. I only read it for the first time a few week or so ago, and I've already revisited it a dozen times, not just because of the beautiful writing but also because of the jawdropping art. But let's start with the writing first; Tay is given so much voice and life in this story. If you told me his familial details, career, and background from this story are all canon, I would believe you, 100%. That's now much care nuwildcat puts into Tay's development, and you can expect that same amount of care and cultivation in all other aspects of this fic. For example, the cocktails. I know nothing about alcohol, but the descriptions of each drink were mouthwatering and so vivid. Pair this with Tay and Kinn being business associates! Incredible. But they're not the only dynamic duo; nuwildcat has given us a wonderful friendship between Porsche and Big: it begins with reluctance, but by the end of Chapter Two, we see Big, in all his fierce loyalty. Mind you, nuwildcat is writing this all while describing how Big falls out of love with Kinn and begins to fall for Tay. And if being graced with wonderful writing isn't enough, mortimerlace knocks you out with stunning art of both characters. There is something really captivating in mortimer's use of purples and I am loving it. The variants used in the first picture of Tay in Chapter One are exquisite. The details in the flowers are so well thought of. Mortimer's use of detail and line work really shine when it comes to each of the outfits, particularly Tay's lace bodice. However, my favorites have to be from Chapter Two; maybe it's because I'm biased, but something about these portraits of Big just made me blush; he looks that good. All in all, if you want a double whammy of fine art and writing, this is your fic. Favorite line: "...the sincerity in Big’s voice hits him like the recoil of a gun. Tay can’t remember the last compliment he got from Time that didn’t double as a come-on. The ache of that thought is an open wound he can’t help but press on. 'You know, when you say things like that Big, I actually believe them.'" Favorite art piece: Chapter Two's second picture of Big in his suit.

Gonna Fade You Like That Rush by giraffeter

Rating: E Pairing: Tay/Time/Big Status: Completed Summary: "Tay and Time run into Big on his night off. Kinn may not want to play with his own toys, but he's never told them they couldn't help themselves." Why you should read this: Listen. Big has been going through it. I think he deserves to have fun, and giraffeter delivers on that. Was I expecting that fun to come in the form of quick wit, humor, and Tay and Time convincing Big to follow them home? Absolutely not, but holy shit, am I here for it. Because girafetter's right; if Kinn won't have fun with his bodyguards, then maybe Tay and Time should. I love the set up in this fic; Big's at a bar and Tay and Time pounce as soon as they lay eyes on him. I love Big's subtle discomfort while being in a bar and how he's a bit unsure of how to place himself among Time and Tay. since they are Kinn's friends. And to put all of this in a post-Tawan background really amplifies that feeling. I'm obsessed with how flirty and forward Tay is here too, how he demands to be in charge. Not to mention the internal thoughts Tay has throughout the story. All of this is compounded by very hot smut. Big fans are truly blessed and thankful. Favorite line: "He has no idea how long it takes them to drive to Tay and Time's place. He's focused on controlling his breathing, on not shivering apart or coming in his underwear while they touch him in an idle, almost desultory way. Occasionally they exchange a heated look across his body, one that lets Big know that he is completely, totally (and in the best way possible) fucked."

Alright! That's all I've got for you, Big. For now, at least. I hope these lovely authors/creators and the fandom continue to write about you, my favorite bodyguard, the one with the most pure heart. 🖤

#kprecfest #KinnPorsche #Big #Big KP #BigChan #kp fanfic #fic rec #god this is so long and I am so sorry #I don't usually write comments on fics because I get nervous so I hope this makes up for it #clandestinegardenias #littlerietveld #The_Old_Astronomer #Nyxelestia #Martynax #mortimerlatrice #nuwildcat #giraffeter #Not sure who is on tumblr but!!! #personal #dawn watches KP #apologies for any spelling errors