#(other thing i have been Afflicted With that i had to step away from-
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stromulites · 2 months ago
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okay back on topic now
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ellecdc · 3 months ago
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HEAR ME OUT
former fboy barty who is now madly in love with reader and reader is like his first actual serious girlfriend
ARE WE SEEING THE VISION
I'M SEEING THE VISION HERE YOU GO; also, it's a continuation of this post but can be read as a standalone
Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who doesn't do 'casual' [1k words]
CW: brief mention of past harassment, mention of past sexual encounter but nothing explicit and SFW
Barty said goodbye to Evan in way of putting his hand against his mouth to get him to stop talking and then shoving his face away from him as he started taking purposeful strides for you. 
He’d only opted to come to class today in hopes of seeing you, and he’d only deigned to hang around afterwards so that he could talk to you after you finished speaking with the Professor.
Barty had been struggling to get you out of his mind for over a week now ever since you approached him in the club asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend, which ended in a very enjoyable romp afterwards.
And he’d be lying if he wasn’t hoping for another tryst as he pulled the door open for you before you’d even had a chance to push it; a look of wary surprise crossing your face before it melted into a smile.
That smile made him feel funny. 
“Well hello, my darling girlfriend.” He teased as he fell into step with you. 
“Hello, Barty.” You chuckled as you gently nudged him with your elbow. “Alright?”
“Fantastic, thank you. I’ve been thinking about the fun we had the other night.” He said as he moved to stand in front of you, smiling in that way of his that he knew usually got him what he wanted.
You simply smirked knowingly and raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Fleeing from a bar without paying your tab?”
Barty scoffed and waved you off. “My dad owns that bar, it’s fine. No, I meant what happened afterwards.”
You hummed in acknowledgment as you scrutinised him. “You mean when I thanked you profusely-”
“-multiple times-” Barty amended, earning him a salacious grin from you.
“-multiple times, for saving me from that creep?”
“Precisely.” Barty agreed with a nod. 
“That was fun.” You admitted, to which Barty quickly agreed. “But I don't think so, Barty. Sorry.”
“Oh… oh! Okay…erm, may I ask why not?” He sputtered as he took two long strides in order to catch up with you as you continued walking across campus. 
“You may.” You relented simply, smirking when you saw Barty roll his eyes from your periphery. 
“Okay…why not?”
“I…listen, I had fun and I don’t regret it, but I don’t usually do…casual.” You admitted, looking embarrassed for all intents and purposes as you stared down at Barty’s shoes and chewed on your lower lip. 
“Casual.” Barty parroted, fighting the urge to relieve your lower lip from its torment and, perhaps disturbingly, afflict it to his own torment. 
“Right, I…I don’t usually do casual sex, that was uhm…that was a one time thing for me.” 
“Oh, so…so, you only have sex when you’re dating someone?” Barty concluded.
“Right.”
“Great. Go on a date with me.” 
You barked a laugh as you continued walking, only to turn and see that Barty wasn’t following nor was he laughing as he was really quite serious.
“Are you-…you’re not serious, are you?”
“Mmm, nope, I’m quite serious, actually.” He responded.
“Barty.” You huffed somewhat chidingly. “I’ve never once seen you speak to the same girl twice. Well, save Meadows, but I’m quite certain she likes girls, so.”
Barty simply shrugged at you, not seeing at all what the issue was here. “There’s a first time for everything, no? I’m standing here talking to you for a second time, am I not?” 
“I’m just…I’m looking for something serious, Barty.”
“I can be serious!” He argued rather petulantly. 
“I’m not going to ask you for something you might not be capable of giving me.” You sighed.
“Are you challenging me? Is this a challenge? Because I’ll have you know I’ve never once lost a bet.”
“I’m not challenging you, Barty.” You laughed affectionately at him. “Monogamy and commitment isn’t your thing, and that’s fine! I’m not judging you or blaming you at all; I just think we might want different things.”
Barty stepped forward so that he was standing but a few inches from you, forcing you to look up at him. “Well, what I want is you.”
“You want me right now.” You whispered back; some of the fight clearly leaving you as you searched between his eyes.
“I’ll prove it. Let me prove it to you.” He insisted, daring to push some of your hair falling from its restraint away from your eyes. 
You sighed somewhat sadly as your bottom lip threatened to jut out. “I’m not worth breaking your rules for, Barty.”
“I think I can decide that for myself, no?” He murmured back.
He had to admit this is the softest he’d ever been with anyone before, but it was also the softest he’d ever felt with anyone before.
He didn’t usually get caught up on people; not like this, not like you. 
But you awoke something inside of him that night when you darted out of the sea of bodies like he was the last life raft of a sinking ship, your eyes wild and desperate as you clung to him.
He was always down for a ruse, so when you’d asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend he was more than happy to cause a little chaos. But when he’d heard you were scared, harassed, bothered? Well, the deep, black, protective rage that had him nearly fusing your body to his was something completely foreign to him.
He wanted more of it.
He wanted you.
And if this is what you needed from him? Well, he’d be that for you. 
“Teach me? I’m a quick learner, rather clever too.” He asked as he tilted your head up by your chin and forced you to look at him. 
“I…I don’t want to be an experiment.”
“I don’t either.” He agreed. “I just want you to be mine.”
You searched his eyes for a few more moments before letting out a dramatic sigh. 
“Fine, but I will be teaching you and there will be a quiz at the end of this so do keep up.” You hollered at him over your shoulder, though your small smile gave away the fact that it was all for show.
“Don’t you worry, treasure; I perform very well on tests.”
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happy-beeeps · 8 months ago
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Sweat it out
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Summary: tav comes down with a nasty flu, and one of her travel companions begins to worry... and maybe realize his feelings
WC: 1.3k
warnings: none i think! idiots in love
f!tav x reader
It’s quiet outside Astarion’s tent as he paces back and forth. Halsin has been inside with you for far too long, and the lack of communication has him worried. How long has it been since he hasn’t ended the night with your words, your breath near his? Weeks, months?
He doesn’t like to think of it. In fact, he’s doing an excellent attempt at thinking about anything else as he paces, and fails to notice the clatter of their camp members walking over to him.
“Chin up soldier, the rest of us seem okay, it probably has nothing to do with her tadpole.”
“Karlach is right,” Gale agrees, “it seems unlikely that the rest of us would be spared the same fate if this truly was connected to our wormy affliction. She will pull through.”
As much as it pains him to admit it, Gale is right. For all logical sense, this should have nothing to do with the mind flayers—but the thought offers little comfort (few things hinging on Gale’s ideas rarely do.) 
It has started this morning, you had remarked how your head felt wrong. You felt wrong. You had ignored it, had soldiered on. As the day progressed, you complained of aches that had not been there, of chills that ran down your arms. Your skin grew pallor, covered in a sheen of sweat. By the end of the night, a cough ragged at your chest, and you could do nothing f else but whimper to yourself. The slightest motion had set tears out of your eyes, your skin burning itself to rid your body of whatever was happening.
Only Halsin, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart accompanied you now, the two healers were working overtime on an attempt to find your ailment, and Lae’zel was not easily persuaded to leave behind one of her dearest friends.
Astarion thinks of the dagger pressed to poor Wyll’s throat when he kindly attempt to guide her towards a spot nearest the fire.
He’s worried about you. This isn’t new, he’s made peace with the reality that he cares for you, he just hasn’t figured out how to say it. Now, he fears the opportunity may be slipping from him.
It’s Halsin’s booming voice that calms his nerves, he and the other two step out from the tent, his grin palpable even from where Astarion is standing. “She’ll be fine. It’s a nasty virus, I’ve given her a brew to aid in the healing, and I’ve created tonics for the rest of us.”
As he passes them out, Shadowheart walks up to Astarion, who is quickly making his way towards your tent. “You… don’t need a tonic. On the account of you being, you know. Not really alive.”
“You’ve got such a way with words, really,” he breathes, but his eyes flicker to the flap of your tent, “so I can go see her?”
Lae’zel speaks up, placing a firm pat on his arm as she walks by, “she’s certainly been asking for you.”
* * * 
You have two clear, feverish trances.
The first is of your mother. A memory that’s not uncommon, one you drift back to anytime you attempt to rest an illness away. Its familiarity brings comfort as you attempt to sweat this bug out, and ignore Halsin and Shadowheart’s proding over your body. 
The other is… newer. One you hadn’t expected. You’re in a secluded section of camp, feet tapping against the water, skin swathed in moonlight. Your wearing nothing other than a long, white shirt, unlaced dangerously along the neck. This is no more than two days ago. 
You follow the memory along, watch from your eyes as you trace circles along your bare thighs, until you look to your side. Astarion is there, eyes swimming with emotion, as he gnaws on his lip.
Memory Astarion reaches out, grabbing your hand, weaving your fingers together. “I’m glad you’ve convinced me to stick around after our escapades, you are entirely addicting.”
Memory you leans against him, pressing your weight against his. His skin is cool, the chill sending tiny bumps along your exposed legs. “I’m glad you’ve decided to humor me, Star.”
You’re mortified when your eyes flutter open, your mouth in the process of muttering his name, to realize he’s here. Next to you. In your tent. As you sweat through probably a third pair of smallclothes.
“You rang?” He’s cheeky when he speaks, but his hand goes to palm your stomach quickly, as if he’s checking to make sure you’re here, you’re still you. The concern is sweet, and it sends an all new kind of flush across your body.
“Feel so sick, Star.” Shit. Is that tiny little voice coming from you?
He moves then, gentler than he’s ever moved before, carefully contorting his body around yours and pressing you against him. In an instant, it’s like a salve to your soul. You’re covered in him—his smell, his weight, his temperature. The chill itself is a whole other soothe to your aches. 
“I know you are darling, but Halsin said you’ll be better soon.”
“Can’t get you sick,” a cough takes your lungs briefly, “who’s gonna pick the locks for us then?”
He laughs, and smooths a few stray hairs out of your face. “I won’t. Officially medically cleared, according to Shadowheart. On the account of my ‘not being alive.’”
You move to nod your head, but the pain makes you stop. Astarion is quick, and he cushions the movement with his hand before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I hear you were dreaming about me?”
“Maybe. Lots of trances. You know how it goes.”
“Was it particularly scandalous? Is that why my little love is so keen to swear?”
“Don’t have it in me to hit you.”
“You wouldn’t dream of it.”
It’s a calm silence that takes you next, Astarion stroking your hair as you listen to the distant clamor of your friends. You break it, after another moment.
“I remembered my mother.”
You don’t often talk about your family, and he knows this. He moved just slightly so you can see his face, curiosity and warmth covering his eyes. “What was it?”
“When I was little, I got sick, nothing bad but still sick. My mother, she’d rub my hair and sing to me,” you pause to close your eyes, as if you could will her here right now, “she’d go to our kitchens and shoo the cooks out, she’d make me her special soup, and when she brought it to me she’d promise me she’d teach me one day.”
“She sounds lovely.”
“She was. Smart too. She always knew things about me that I didn’t know.”
“Oh, like what?” Astarion’s face shimmers with a laugh and you use the last bit of your strength to attempt a shrug and burrow into his chest.
“She used to tell me she knew I’d end up with someone older. Don’t know if she knew how old.”
After your words, as if in cue, your chest begins its steady rise and fall, and Astarion recognizes the twitch in your fingers. You’re trancing again. Which means he’s stuck with your words and their heavy implications.
Still, with the way your overheating body simmers against his cold touch, he resolved that he doesn’t mind their weight, not at all. In fact, he’d like more of your burden.
You don’t slip out of your trance that night, but feel the briefest ghost of a kiss on your forehead.
When sunlight rolls around, your eyes blink awake. You’re weak, you can feel it, but better. You go to sit up, but realize quickly Astarion’s weight is still against you, one arm cradling your head to his chest, one arm twisted beneath you. 
You’ve never quite felt so comfortable, so held. You don’t remember what you told him last night, don’t remember exactly what he said. Instead, you decided to live in this moment now, and pray to all the gods you’ll get to relive it again soon.
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spaghettificationandpretzels · 10 months ago
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Let There Be Hotel Complaints
Based on a post request by @rayslittlekitten I really hope you like it, I have no idea if it fits but I tried hard.
Title based on: Hozier - Dinner & Diatribes
Contains: Fluff, Ray being Gomez Addams, mentions of periods/period symptoms, smut (fingering, oral sex M and F receiving, P in V, breeding kink, possessive Ray, scents and smells, aftercare) Not beta read.
3.5K words.
Ray's feelings for you are as wide as the ocean, and his love is second only to his desire.
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The hand that wrapped around your body felt like hot coals on your already heated skin, and you fought the urge to shrink away from Ray. "Raymond, I've been put in the garden working, can you let me shower before you hug me?" His arms only tightened around as you felt his chest expand against your back as he pressed his nose into your sweat-damped neck. "Ray! I'm covered in sweat."
He checked, and the sound reverberated through your body like the first rumbles of a thunderstorm. "I don't mind, Dear, you smell wonderful." His face moved to the top of your head as he took another breath, admiring how your conditioner mixed with a hard day's work. It drifted into his mind like the reaching of a siren song, slowly bleeding away his other thoughts.
His lips found your neck, and he smirked against your skin as your head tilted to make room for him. A quick glance at the clock let him know you'd have enough time to enjoy each other before the fancy business dinner tonight, and he found himself slowly unlacing from the hug as he brought one hand to your breast.
He gained more access to your skin, and you rested your head back onto his shoulder and pushed yourself into his touch, but he was pulling his hand away a second later when he felt you stiffen as he tightened his grip around your soft flesh. "Sorry, Love."
"It's ok, I'm just a little sore." There was no explanation needed as to why, you knew he knew why, he always seemed to know.
His hand moved lower, rubbing the skin of your ribcage in long, soothing strokes as his lips moved from the dome of your shoulder up your neck. "Allow me to make it up to you?"
The offer was the definition of temptation, but there were things to be done and places to be. "Tonight, if all goes well at the dinner. I have to finish with the garden and then get ready for tonight."
The teeth against your skin were not in retaliation for your conditional refusal but a promise of things to come. "Then let me help you?"
"Of course." Your reason was wholly selfish, motivated by rolled up sleeves and rippling muscles at his instance of lifting heavy bags of soil. You finished your glass of water and went back outside, not missing how Ray's eyes followed your arms as you placed your sun hat back on your head. He smiled at you, it was earnest and filled with warmth. "What do you need me to do, Gorgeous?"
You couldn't help yourself, there was something in his desire to aid you in every need that sparked something in you. "Many things, My Darling, but right now, I need help with the tea roses."
He smiled and took two steps to close the distance between you before brushing his lips on your ear. "Your wish is my command."
****
The rest of the afternoon swam by in a haze for Ray. It was the kind of torture that the training he had received many lifetimes ago could not prepare him for, and with each passing moment, his thoughts grew more debauched until he was waxing poetic in his head like a madman.
As you finished your makeup, he could not get the image of you licking the strawberry juice from your lunchtime dessert off your lips out of his head. Breathing through his nose had become an affliction; top notes of your shower gel and the underneath of you were one thing, but there was the faintest hint of him there that made him want to sink his teeth in your bare skin so many times that the hotel's tofts would look away in shame the moment they saw you.
By the time you slid into the car, pressing your legs to his as Bunny drove you to the hotel, he was afire with need. He laced his hand with yours as the vehicle travelled down from the lush countryside to the bright lights of the city and leaned in close, his nose brushing your temple as he told you more about the guests at the party you were heading to.
There were already people milling around when you arrived, handing their bags off to the Bellhops so they could enjoy their complementary night in luxury. Ray was less willing to relinquish the bags and simply blinked as the hotelier became insistent. Nevertheless, the man still walked to your room on the sixth floor, smiling saccharinely as he told you to enjoy the complimentary champagne before the party started.
The opulence of the room and the expensive champagne sat ignored by you and Ray as he steeled himself for a night of making nice and glad-handing when he would rather be doing something far more enjoyable. He took your hands and drew you to the middle of the room, wrapping his arms around you as his nose returned to your hair for the millionth time that day. "You look beautiful as always."
You smiled and placed your hands on his chest. "And you keep sniffing me like some weirdo."
He took it in stride, chuckling softly as he yanked you to his chest. "I can't help it, you smell exquisite, it's driving me insane."
You sighed, enjoying the warmth of his arms around you. "I know what you're thinking, but we promised Mickey."
He mirrored your sigh as he broke the embrace and extended his hand. "I know. We should head down there now, the sooner we go down and mingle, the sooner we can leave."
His hand found your lower back as you took the lift to the grand hall and stayed there as you met up with Mickey and Rosalind and made introductions with the upper class lucky enough to receive invites. Of course, the reason for your invitations was the massive underground white widow super cheese farm under the hotel's private golf course.
It was painfully dull, standing around making small talk about the weather and wallpaper while eating tiny pies that only served to make you more hungry. Ray stayed stuck to your side, practically dragging you around with him while he did business for his boss.
"Your wife looks lovely tonight." Ray's arm tightened around you as you spun towards the voice.
"She looks lovely every night, Dave." If Dave had plans to say more, they were defeated by Ray's harsh glare as he pulled you away.
He moved to a quiet corner of the room and placed your hand on his ample bicep. "What's gotten into Ray? You've just about ripped the heads off anyone who's talked to me tonight. I get Dave, but the Simon's are nice."
He moved into your space, pressing you against the window as he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger while he leaned in close enough that your noses were brushing. To outsiders, it would have looked like a private moment between lovers, but Ray's eyes were fixed on with a look so lustful it would have made the whore of Babylon blush. "What's gotten into me? I have spent the last two hours watching these pigs look you up and down while acting like I don't want to rip their arms off for even daring to speak to you."
You blinked, he was in a mood tonight. "Well, Dear. How about you stick it out for another hour so we can eat dinner from this stupid menu then, I'm all yours for the night?"
He swallowed and exhaled before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "Of course Darling." His tone had shifted; it had taken on that gravelly tilt that created a flutter of excitement in your chest, and you eagerly headed back into the fray as Ray finally composed himself.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek as he leaned into your touch. "Thank you, Dear."
****
The dinner was the typical mess of rich people's food that had too many flavours and not enough on the plate, but Ray gave you all his cheese twirls and made sure to pick you the biggest slice of chocolate cake off the platter when dessert came around. All was going well until the tables were cast aside again for the wine course, and you were split from him as one of the tofts Mickey looked after pulled him away to talk about security.
His eye kept drifting over to you, and he grew ever more aggravated as he watched the sommelier try and fail to flirt with you. He dismissed the man he was talking to with the promise to call later, that he was tired and wanted to enjoy his hotel room and all but stormed over to you. "Are you enjoying the wine, Dear?"
You shook your head. "I've told the sommelier that I'm not interested in that variety, but he's being very insistent."
The man smiled and turned to Ray. "We have some of the best wine in the country here, your girlfriend…"
If looks could kill, Ray would have ended the man there and then. "My wife isn't interested, and I don't appreciate your tone or your attitude. I will be speaking to your employer in the morning to deal with this in full."
His hand was back on your lower back as he marched towards the lift, and between his puffed chest and his expression, no one dared to join you as the doors opened. The second the doors closed, he was on you, pressing you against the wall as his lips found yours. The grip he had on you was almost painful, his fingers digging firm into your skin as he held you in place for a searing kiss that stole the air from your lungs.
He finally allowed you to breathe when the doors opened on your floor, and he all but dragged you to your room as he shut the door and pressed up against it. His lips were on yours again, and his hands slid around your body until his fingers were curling around the fabric of your evening dress and ripping it open with the pop pop of fancy buttons.
He shoved the dress down, breaking from your lips for a moment to take in the lingerie you were wearing. "Fucking hell y/n." That went next, and his lips didn't give you the chance to admonish him about what he had paid for the now ruined fabric lying at your feet.
He once again broke from you and knelt on the floor, removing your shoes one by one before kissing his way up your legs, swapping legs with each kiss, getting closer and closer to your centre with each one until he slowed at the crease of the thigh. He was once again inhaling like he was suffocating, and you wove your hands into his hair as your frustration grew. "Can you do something instead of sniffing me?"
His teeth sunk into your skin in retaliation, and he was standing up to his full height with eyes full of threat. "Don't rush me." His hand cupped you, his fingers running your rapidly gathering wetness as he all but growled at you. "This cunt is mine, I get to take all the time I want, understand?"
You almost wanted to act out to see what it would make him do, but the poor man already looked pained enough. "Anything you want."
He locked you in another kiss, his teeth smarting at your lip as he made his wants known with a gentle pressure on your shoulders. "Get on your knees."
He kicked your ruined dress under you to soften the ground as you sunk down, and you pulled at his belt to free him. He helped you, shoving his trousers and boxers down in one go just far enough so his cock could spring out and you could grab his perfect ass unencumbered by fabric.
He looked down at you as you kitten licked around the head and felt another rush of this heated primal positiveness that he had been feeling the whole night. A hand found the back of your head as you took him into your mouth, and his free hand shot out to rest on a side table to steady himself as pleasure filled his senses.
He stopped himself from bucking his hips in order to focus on the vision of you sucking him like a lollipop. It was outright pornographic, and all he could think about was that you were all his and his alone. "Fucken 'ell, Love." You moaned around him, and he used every ounce of self-control to pull you off of him and to your feet. "Get on the bed."
His hands were all over you as you made your way to the bed, and he ran his hands up and down your sides while you spun around to face him so you could lay on your back on the plush mattress. You settled on the pillows as his lips met yours, and he finally began to remove his clothes.
Bare skin hit bare skin as his lips started a journey down your body until he was lifting your legs over his strong shoulders and onto his solid back. He kissed the bend of your knee, his lips soft as his beard brushed your skin. He locked eyes with you and smiled softly as he continued his journey upwards, finally arriving with barely there kisses that had you pushing your hips towards him. "Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours." A hot, wet heat enveloped you as he licked you from the entrance to clit in one firm, wide lick before sealing his lips around your clit. Ray had always been a man who prided himself on his attention to detail, and your bedroom was no different; it was like he had committed precisely what you needed to memory so well that he didn't even need to try, and tonight was no different.
He seemed more desperate tonight; accuracy swapped for the burning desire to consume your whole, and it didn't help that he was moaning against your flesh like he could somehow feel what he was doing to you in his own body. The chorus of his name from your mouth only served to spur him on, and a forearm pressed your hips down so you couldn't move away from him as he used his free hand to slide two fingers inside you.
With his rough fingertips bullying your G-spot, you didn't stand a chance, and he was far too strong for you to twitch away for a reprieve as the waves of an earth-shattering orgasm took you like the undertow of a raging river. Your chest heaved as he pulled away, and he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before bringing his soaked fingers to your lips. You licked him clean only to have him kiss away the taste like you had slighted him by taking him up on his offer, and then he was slotting himself between your spread wide legs and grinding his cock against your sensitive skin. "Tell me me you're mine."
"I'm yours." You marvelled at his self-control, his face buried in your neck as he continued teasing you. "I'm yours, please Ray."
He took his cock in hand and notched it at your entrance. "Who do you belong to?"
"You." Your reply was desperate, your hands on his heated chest with fingers curled in a threat should he persist in his game, but he didn't, and seemly satisfied with your declaration, he slid inside you with one confident push. The fullness of it stole the air from your lungs, and you lifted your hips up to take him in faster as he bottomed out.
His hand found your hip, and his fingers dug in with force as he began to move, taking a steady pace that had the head of his cock brushing your G-spot with each pass. One of your hands wove into his hair while the other clutched at his back, and he pressed his lips to yours in a scalding kiss as he picked up speed. Mercifully, before he suffocated in the air stealing a kiss, his lips moved to your neck, and then his teeth were out, marking your skin like he was trying to prove a point about his ownership over you.
He pulled away for a moment and took in your blissed out face, faltering as the vision brought him teetering to the edge of oblivion far sooner than his ego would allow, so in a mix of the desire to uphold his pride and the need for more skin to mar he pulled out of your for a fleeting moment only to flip you over then slam back home as his teeth found more skin. He was overwhelming at this angle, and your fingers curled around the pillow as he slid a hand between you to rub your clit.
Ray would often tell you that you were good for his ego, that he could walk into a room where all the men would turn their heads to look, and he could smile knowing you were his alone. But this was something different, you writhing under him, stuck between frantic begging and breathless need made him feel like a God with you as his ever willing offering.
He captured you in another kiss as the edge neared, and you shuddered as, with one more precise circle to your clit, you fell over it. His hips didn't slow, and he growled into your mouth like a hungry animal as he chased his own high. "You're mine, I own you, understand?" All you could do was nod as your vision began to grey at the edges, but he must have accepted your answer because he all but roared as he came inside you.
His strength failed as it hit him full force, and the possessive beast inside him was finally satiated, knowing he had marked inside and out. He was mindful not to crush you, but he couldn't find it in himself to move away just yet, he couldn't let his hard work slip from you just yet. His lips were once again gentle as they kissed the marks his teeth had made, and you sighed as he brushed the stray hairs from your face.
His nose found its family home on the back of your neck, and his chest expanded against your back as he inhaled. "You must be intent on trying to kill me, My Dear."
You didn't have a clue what he was talking about, and rather than ask, you kissed him in hopes he would tell you anyway, but he didn't, and the weariness in your bones forced you to speak. "What do you mean?"
He finally rolled off you, and you laid on your sides facing each other as his hand ran up and down your side. "I can't understand how someone can smell so intoxicating, it truly is torture."
You reached up to lay a hand on his cheek, and he tilted his head to press his lips to your palm. "You get like this every month, I thought you'd be used to it by now."
He shook his head, sleepy. "Never, how can someone get used to being on fire."
"I suppose that's fair." There was more you wanted to say, but it was getting hard to keep your eyes open, and he could tell. Despite his own feelings, he was getting up to clean himself up before returning with his arms loaded. He brought you a glass of water and used one of your damp face cloths to cleanse away your makeup before using another damp cloth to remove the mess from between your legs, although he did pause to watch the evidence of your shared sin drip from your body and onto the expensive sheets as another wave of possessive filled him.
With his duty done, he disposed of the unclean fabric in a pile and climbed into bed next to you, wrapping you in his arms as he pulled you to his chest. "I love you y/n."
You relaxed into his arms and dropped a kiss on his chest where his heart lay. "I love you too, Ray."
In the morning, he would awaken you with ginger tea, a heating pad, and ibuprofen before climbing back into bed with you and soothing away your aches and pains until check out finally came. Room service would find no evidence of the mess Ray had left in the aftermath of your coupling, just a pile of towels already in the dirt laundry bin when they collected the cart at the start of their shift. He did, however, get a dirty look and a snide comment from the hotelier about what kind of establishment he was running. As you checked out, Ray took it in stride.
Fin
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shytastemakerthing · 16 days ago
Note
I saw that requests are open and read through the requests rules post, so I hope this is okay!
Could I ask for Pomefiore + Lillia (or any characters you think would be best) with a reader that has cubital tunnel? To put it simply, cubital tunnel is a nerve condition where a nerve running through one's elbow is inflamed or irritated. The condition acts up when writing, typing, or really anything where you bend your elbows. You can usually tell it's about to when the area from your elbiw down starts to tingle. Flares usually present as a shooting pain running from your elbow to hand, numbness from elbow to hand, or both. When it's agitated for a prolonged period of time (like typing an essay or something) it can lead to the inability to properly move your fingers. Thet get stuck in a claw like position and moving them is like operating a jerky pulley system. (This is just personal experience, so it may be different for others)
Sorry this is so long! I just throught I'd try and save you the long confusing research. I've been seeing more fafics/hc/etc. with disabled readers but mostly just the more severe conditions. I think any representation is great, I just wish there was more for the less severe and lesser acknowledged ones.
Please feel free to just delete this if you don't want to do it! Hope you're doing well <3
Hello and thank you for this request! I happen to have a friend who has cubital tunnel, and as someone who has carpal tunnel (recent diagnosis as we finally found out what was going on, on top of a cyst having formed within the same wrist XD), it is well known that it is not at all fun.
Tw: None
Prompt: Pomefioren trio + Lilia with s/o who has cubital tunnel
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Vil is someone who knows all about taking care of yourself, especially when you have physical limitations that actively cause you pain daily that limits what you can and cannot do throughout your day
He knew of this condition of yours long before the two of you got together, he does notice things, after all (he also has Rook)
As he grew more interested in you, he took much more notice in just when this pain flares up, especially through such simple tasks that most wouldn't struggle with
And once together? The man is a God sent.
The second that he notices that wince coming to your face, knowing that the pain is flaring once again, he is at your side (he knows better than to touch the area in pain knowing that it could be made worse through such actions)
You are taken to his room (away from the prying eyes of others), and would begin to help you to relax as much as possible. Ice packs, heating pads, gentle massages, maybe even a numbing potion here and there to help the pain (as much as he would love to always have you take the numbing potion, as he hates to see you in such pain), he does not want you to grow too dependent on them)
Whatever it is that you need, he is there. If you happen to be in class when this happens and he is there with you? He will casually help you with the writing. Now, he isn't giving you all the answers either, you still do that part on your own, but as it is less stressful for the afflicted limb, you have no complaints
All that matters, is that he is the hero in your eyes
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Also knew of the affliction before he ever actually met you..... it's Rook, of course he already knew
Even if he believes that there is beauty in pain, there is no beauty in seeing the one you have grown rather fond of being in such a state, that renders even the most simplest tasks as nearly impossible
Once together, if it had been possible, he was with you or at least watching you every step of your day. He merely wishes to know what makes the pain worse and what may seem to help
At one point, a rare time where he wasn't able to keep an eye on you, Rook even used his own UM to be able to locate you (as you somehow, even he doesn't know how, manage to know how to stay hidden from the hunter), and it was safe to say no one had seen him move so fast
When he found you, safe within the confines of his room (how did he not think to check there? It had become a favored place for you to visit), your face was dried with tears, giving small hiccups in your sleep as he saw how your afflicted limb was tenderly wrapped within a heating pad
The pain must have been rather bad today if you came here to avoid being anywhere else as well as being away from everyone (honestly, who would ever willingly come to his room??)
Not wanting to disturb your slumber, Rook merely slid off his jacket, removed his hat, and would reside on the floor next to you
He would be here the moment that you woke up and needed him
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Honestly had no idea as to what this condition was. Working on orchards for as long as he could remember, Epel had seen all types of pain and injuries. It came with the work, but this was certainly new to him
As to better help you, this man certainly did his research. He wanted to show that he could protect and care for you, after all
Learning that pretty much anything so simple can become virtually impossible without severe pain certainly made his chest tighten. Something so simple as writing or just brushing your teeth could cause the pain to flare
Also learned to not touch anywhere that the pain is currently residing as that could easily make it so much worse
The last thing he wants to do is cause you more pain
Once the two of you are together, he carried a backpack with him, aside from his school supplies being in it, it also holds anti-inflammatory medication, a brace, and anything else that could help
While some may mock or ridicule him, he sees it as him being a great partner for the one he loves
Vil praised him for this and it honestly felt really nice to hear. While Epel wasn't looking for such praise, it was nice to be recognized, especially when he was taking care of you
If there is anything that you need, anything at all that could help when the pain begins to flare once again, or even something simple, just let him know and he will get it for you
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With how long that this fae has been around, it would honestly be a surprise if he had yet to hear of a condition such as this. Chances are, he has encountered many people in his time who suffer from this affliction
And now that he knows that you also suffer from such affliction, knowing just how hard it makes things, how much pain that it puts you in everyday?
If you thought he was doting then, this is a whole new level
As much as he really is wanting to help, it does seem a bit much (never eat anything he brings to you, just in case)
If it gets to be too much, just let him know what you really do need, and he will listen
When you show up in the middle of the night, eyes red from tears, Lilia automatically knows what is going on and ushers you gently into his room
He quickly leaves a message on his game, turns everything off, and climbs into bed next to you
Holding you carefully in his arms, he summons whatever magic he can to help numb wherever the pain is located
When you finally fall asleep, the pain now decreases to more of a dull throb, all he wishes, when he looks at those stars, is that this pain be taken away from you. It absolutely shatters his heart.
It takes him another good hour before he finally falls asleep next to you, after gently placing a kiss to the top of your head
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Thank you for your request!! Have a wonderful day/night!
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no-gorms · 4 months ago
Text
Steve/Tony, Hanahaki, UST, open ending
It is an unfortunate fact of Tony’s history that he’s familiar with the longing disease. Lung gardening. Hanahaki, or whatever other euphemisms they’ve come up with lately to describe it.
Naming conventions aside, Tony’s knows well enough what the affliction feels like – the warning sting at the back of the throat that’s followed by the pressure of something more personal, more vicious than mere phlegm. The body’s breathing apparatus has decided to betray its owner, and Tony’s had it enough times that he could be embarrassed, if he were the sort of person to be embarrassed by that kind of thing.
A cough, a heave, and then petals are cascading in a disgusting shower onto the tabletop. At least the tabletop is glass, which is easy to clean, and Tony’s reflexes were fast enough that he’d pushed Hill’s paper folder of printouts clear away.
Most people would be grateful to have their symptoms manifest in privacy. Those who do not, get used to the shocked silence that follows.
“Oh no,” comes Bruce’s voice from Tony’s left. Quiet, worried.
“Maybe—” Natasha clears her throat, businesslike, “—we can take five?”
“Ah, shit.” Tony straightens up and dabs at his mouth with a handkerchief. He eyes the pile of petals with a scowl, noting that they’re bright-colored blooms, as if he’s twenty years old all over again and doesn’t know any better. “Fantastic. Just what we needed today.”
“Yeah, we can take five—” Clint starts.
“As if we don’t have enough to do.” Tony sighs. “Goddammit, Steve.”
“What?” Steve says.
Being an old hat at surviving Hanahaki also means that Tony knows the faces he’ll see when he looks around the table. There’ll be surprise, concern, empathy, and discomfort in various combinations, and Tony gets all of that and then some, because the Avengers have so far rolled with a number of far greater inconveniences with grace.
“Look.” Tony takes one last cleaning swipe of his face with the handkerchief and drops it on the pile. “It’s not your fault, I’m not blaming you, but you gotta step up on this if we’re gonna make the flight out in time to follow Thor’s lead.”
“I, what—” Steve blinks twice, quick and robotic, before those same eyes widen.
Ah, so this is a surprise to Steve, which might be even more irritating than the Hanahaki itself. Tony could try to be half-full-cup about it and take it from the angle that this means that he hadn’t been too ridiculous openly about his burgeoning crush on the good Captain. But that would take more effort than he’s willing to expend.
It was supposed to be just admiration. Idle feelings to be nurtured like a baby bird of a side hobby. Good fucking going, Stark. What had Steve even been doing to make it tip over? Squinting at Natasha’s slide with that stoic yet judgmental purse of the mouth that usually has Tony internally clapping his hands with glee?
That could do it.
“Yeah, I know, it’s stupid,” Tony says, waving it off. “You don’t even like me as a human being, but I’m a masochist that way sometimes. Good news is, I’m also fickle, so it probably won’t be that hard to make me hate you. By this afternoon, hopefully? Or whenever you’re ready, I’m sure you’ll figure something out, but anyway this is still…” He eyes the pile of petals. “This is way early stages, we’ll have weeks, but the sooner the better.”
“What do you mean I don’t like you as a human being?” Steve says, as though that’s the most important part of what Tony just said.
“You need to be mean to me, okay?” Tony says.
Bafflement animates Steve’s normally poster-handsome face. Bafflement, and then offense, as though Tony just asked him to kick puppies, which Tony would never do, and anyway Tony isn’t a puppy. Steve can be mean, sometimes by accident and sometimes on purpose, and those glimpses of candid moments are so rare – for Tony, at least, since the others know Steve far better than Tony ever could – that Tony has and does treasure every single one.
Unfortunately, this thought sends a wave of affection rolling through Tony’s brain, which is followed by a wave of petals rolling out of Tony’s mouth. And this time they do destroy Hill’s folder of printouts.
He recovers faster this time, which may or may not be helped by Bruce patting his back gently.
“Sorry, correction.” Tony wheezes through an inhale. “You need to be mean to me, and not in a sexy way.”
“What—?” Steve starts.
“Stark means that you need to be cruel to him to stunt his feelings for you,” Thor says, nodding solemnly. “But to not use language that he’d find appealing. ‘Tis a fine line, indeed, I understand the challenge there.”
“Thor,” Bruce says.
“What?” Thor says.
“Right,” Clint says, “I think we should not be here for this.”
“We were finishing up anyway.” Tony stands up and shoves all the petals into the folder that will be going into the trash pronto. “I need to do a health scan but you guys can keep going with that entry route, and let me know what you’ve decided before suit up, yeah?“
“Tony,” Steve says. “You’re—that’s dangerous—”
“Yes, yes, I am aware,” Tony says irritably. “Romanoff, have my back?”
“We do face death on the regular,” Natasha says. “This is manageable.”
“See.” Tony points at Steve. “I’ll work on my part, but you have to do yours. Mean. You can do it, I believe in you. Just maybe… don’t use Howard?” He sighs. “No, you should probably use Howard. Anyway, I’ll be in lab, give me a buzz if there’s anything.”
Tony goes with a careless wave over his shoulder, and waits until he’s out of the room and the door is closed before he lets himself wince.
Could’ve gone worse, actually.
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whumpsoda · 6 months ago
Text
Seeing Me in You - A Real Name
Masterlist
cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker,
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“You been thinking about names?” Isaac asked, flopping down on the couch. Smiling, her hands folded over each other casually in her lap as she gazed expectantly to her pet.
“Yes, ma’am.” He replied with the softest of a nod. She had ordered him days before to come up with names for himself, a strange request. A master would want to be the one to name their pet, would they not? Weren’t those the rules?
“Got any in mind? Any you like?”
“No, ma’am.” 
Her face dropped a smidge in disappointment, churning a quease in his belly, before she jumped back to her feet. “Give me just one second.” Stepping to the short shelf pushed against the opposite wall, she studied the titles intently, before pulling one out with excitement.
“Here’s some names. A whole book of ‘em.” Isaac announced, flipping to the first page of the thick book, filled to the brim with them, “Edith uses this one all the time, and pretty much all’ve our rescues pick one from in here. I’ll read some out to you, and maybe you’ll hear one you like.”
She recited each and every one in the order they were listed in, looking to him after each name. It was almost as if she wanted his approval, such a foreign concept that 253719 didn’t understand. Though, it was usual for him not to understand her, the other masters, or any of the out of line pets around him.
“Abraham? Arthur? Atticus?” She listed, turning to him with her tender, kind smile that meant even though things were weird, he wasn’t being bad. 
“Whatever pleases you, Master.” He had merely replied after every look, the safe answer he held close to his heart. Nearly was he not even listening, mind wandering to emptiness as he kneeled on the rug beside her. But she continued still, not satisfied with it. With him. 
Until one name.
“August?” She inquired, and he perked up, the lightest of a glimmer in his eye. He recognized August. Isaac chuckled, giving him a sweet pet to the head that he leaned eagerly into. “You like that one?”
He didn’t like it necessarily, a pet didn’t like, but his master did.
Fall was his master’s favorite season, where all of the magically vibrant colored leaves would fly through the chill turning air. The month of August fell during fall, right? He could have sworn it did. 
252719 remembered his master repeating his statement of likeness every year as they sat together on the porch, 252719 kneeling beside him as he smoked. I just love fall, such a pleasant time, he would say, a rare smile strung over his lips. The foul smelling smoke would fill his pet’s nostrils, filling his lungs and tempting him to cough, but he wouldn’t. He was good enough to know not to.
And if his master so decided he wanted to utilize him for another purpose, one he wasn’t designed for but his master enjoyed, he would welcome the stinging burn of the cigarette digging a sizzling hole into his exposed flesh. He would whimper and whine pathetically with affliction, just as his master liked it.
252719 missed his master. He missed him so much it hurt, terribly so, tying suffocating knots all throughout his grief stricken body. Even the pain he inflicted the pet missed.
But they wouldn’t let him leave. Especially the one that was his new master who said she wasn’t but he knew she was. She said no running away, and so he couldn’t. 
But he wanted to.
And wanting was weird and bad. He was not supposed to want, but he did and it kept him up at night, tossing and turning over memories of his master, over anxieties of this new place where everything is confusing and strange. How it was changing him and making him so very bad.
“Yes ma’am.” 252719 - no, August - mumbled, to her glee. 
August. He had a name now. A real name. Not like the numbers his master called him by. He had a person name.
And August liked it.
The clothes were terribly uncomfortable. Not being used to having fabric layered over his skin he cringed, scrunching the soft lines of his plush face. 374629 was not ungrateful, never would he dare to be, he simply did not understand why his master had made him dress. He never had clothing beside a dingy pair of boxers in the facility, and was convinced he would not outside of it either. But there he was, anyway, adorned in his master’s clothing.
He was his master, right?
Me too.
374629 couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. Because of course his master couldn’t be a guard dog, let alone a boxie himself. Masters were people, not pets, and such things were not interchangeable, he knew that. 
His master didn’t even act like a pet. No crawling, no mantras - except for, well, when he repeated his pet’s, but that was different, was it not? -  no collar, no master, no pet.
His master was not a pet. He was sure that was not what he had meant, and a real pet like him should not have even been worrying about it. All he needed to worry about was keeping his master completely and absolutely safe. 
So he forced his brain back into blank and utter emptiness once again, saving himself for the danger of any possible threat. He would keep himself vigilant like he was trained to be. 
His master hummed as he cooked, with a sing-song voice creamy like butter that licked his ears with the hint of gravel. He twirled the spoon around the pot, sticky with hot mac and cheese that took over the air of the apartment. 
374629 had never had macaroni before, only the gray slop his handler had plopped into his dog bowl at least once a day. He held no hope for the chance of receiving any, knowing his place well. 
So when his master, still humming loud and clear, placed a large, human sized bowl of macaroni before him, 374629 didn’t know what to do. He knew he wasn’t supposed to eat it, that was for sure. So he waited.
His master plopped down at the table beside him with his own bowl, steaming the same as his. “That’s for you, okay? I want you to eat as much as you feel you can, if, um, that’s okay.”
Oh. 
Maybe… maybe it was for him. 
And so he ate. Warily at first, waiting for a kick to the face as he descended his mouth to the height of the food, ass up and hands on the wood. Position five. It never came.
But was his meal delicious. 
He’d never tasted anything so good in his life, so wonderful he could never believe he was deserving of it. It spread a cozy warmth of magic through his mouth, not enough to burn but enough to have him melting in a puddle on the floor. Tastebuds sparkling with excitement he plunged back in for more, scooping up pieces vigorously with his tongue and allowing them to dance through his mouth as he chewed.
“So” his master started, pulling him away from the heaven that was his dinner,  “Got any name ideas? It can be anything.”
Oh, he was so bad. Had he missed an order? Was he supposed to have been doing so?
“N- no, sir.” He didn’t even want to dare think about a name for himself. His name was for his master to decide, it was the rules. He couldn’t disobey, but was he really, when his master wanted it? 374629 swallowed another mouthful of cheese dripping noodles, mouth dribbling with sticky remains that pooled at his chin.
“That’s okay.” His master told him, although he knew he didn’t mean it. Nothing was okay when your pet was too stupid for you. “I wish… I had Edith’s book with me… I guess we’ll just have to think about it for a bit. Just let me know if anything comes to mind, um, that you like.”
He could… do that. Did he know any names? He didn’t even have one himself.
He knew… he knew His handler’s name. His first, not just his last, even if he wasn’t really supposed to. Of course he had never called him by it, only Handler Parker, but he’d heard it before.
Hey, Simon, I guess you’ve finally gotten this one under your control.
He missed his handler, he supposed. Missed the strict order and absence of confusion. With his handler he knew exactly what to do and what not, and now it felt like he was all alone with his training. Really, he was.
Handler Simon Parker.
“Simon?” He shifted up to his master, eyes falling wide, “Is that what you said?”
Had he-
He’d said that out loud-
“That’s a nice one. It fits you. I like it.” His master said, lips upturning to a grin. He looked excited, almost, and terribly pleased. “Do you like it?”
He hadn’t really-
But he did, and his master liked it. 374629 was going to be sick, stomach curling in knots as burning bile bubbled in his belly.
His lips carefully parted, quivering as his fists clenched, uncut nails burrowing into the flesh of his palm. “What- whatever pleases you, Master.” He choked out, words tinged with the rasp of shock as he turned his gaze back to the floor.
“I really like that. I think it’s settled then.” His master giggled, sweet and bubbly that failed to calm his pet’s horrified heart. “Welcome to the family, um, Simon.”
——————
Isaac is from a different connected bbu story I just posted earlier today if you want to check that out here :)
———
Masterlist
Taglist- @softvampirewhump @3-2-whump @taterswhump @fefe658 @whumped-by-glitter
@pigeonwhumps @whumpinthepot @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @tippytappytyping @ivymyers
@octopus-reactivated @loserwithsyle @snakebites-and-ink @itsawhumpsideblog @otterfrost
@parasiticwhumpee @starrysky888 @isntthisblank
If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago
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Vengeful Undead Yan + Friendly Creep Reader-
They were happy - once.
Quiet, yet giving - the type of person who wore their heart of their sleeve. Despite how it bleed for everyone around them, no one carried to give them a second glance until - they met him. With a charming smile and those kind eyes, it was like they had finally experienced true love for the first time. They loved him, and he loved them back. Those thoughtful gestures, reassuring words - all for them.....until they weren't.
There was someone else in the background. Affectionate and carefree, the second they skipped into someone's life things were never the same. Their smile was like a gravitational pull and their sweet words sealed their affliction on their prey. You. Your innocent persona was one few could ignore - even their true love. You were everywhere. You were the third wheel on every date. You trampled on their life - their happily ever after. You....took him away.
That couldn't be true. He still loved them. He was their prince, not yours. That's why he took them to the hill where they consummated their love. That's why his hands were on their shoulders. That's why he told them he loved them. That's why.....he would catch him when they tripped.
But he didn't.
It was an accident, right? Right?- He loved them. He loved me! Why?... It hurts so much. Darling, where are you going? Don't leave me!
It hurts....it hurts...
As they dragged their broken body up the hill and back home, their was another car in the driveway - back shield boarded up with glittery stickers and signs. They wondered how you hadn't gotten yourself killed before them... You. Already claiming their place. Their body may have been cold, but they were still walking. You couldn't have him. You couldn't take him away. They hear him crying. Seeking your comfort after the disappearance of his dearly departed spouse. It hasn't been more than a day since they fell. Nobody was even looking for them. And they never would. There's a rustle of clothes - then silence. The front door unlocks before they had the chance to break it down, out walking you - with crimson fists. You clean the blood off your hands with a torn cloth.
"Geez.... People don't know when to take no for an answer anymore.."
"Gi...ve..."
You glance at the source of the soft whimpers, unfazed by the odd angle of their neck and the slackness of their jaw; bones jutting out of every limb. Tears leak from their bruised eyes.
"Give it back to me.. Give him back!"
"Whoa! Don't worry, he's not my type even if he wasn't a cheater. Bet he said you were his one and only, yeah?"
You step aside to show them the husk on the floor in no better condition than them, but still alive. You click your tongue, sadly shaking your head.
"That's what happens when you keep your heart in your pants. Sorry yours got torn out...quite literally as it looks. I'm guessing this belongs to you. I was going to pawn it, but I think you should have it back."
You pull the rotting shell into a hug, locking the chain of the bloodstained locket in your hands around their neck. They touch it. They hadn't realize it was gone. He must've taken it when he swore his love Even in their final moments, all he did was take. You wipe away the new flood of tears with his tattered shirt.
"Hey, now. Don't cry. There's other fish in the sea. Ones who'd love a cute zombie ready to eat their whore's brains. Best of luck to you."
And with that, you climb into your car and drive off. They look down at their discolored skin and dirt caked nails. ... cute? A faint groan alerts them to revival of their lost love. He looks up at them in horror, spitting teeth and obscenities as he crawled away. Monster. Demon. After they spent so many hours every day becoming beautiful - for him. This final betrayal becomes too much. As their teeth rip into his neck, their heart finally stopped bleeding. At least for them.
As they stumble through the house that was once theirs, a single thought charges their stride. Cute. Cute. You said they were still desirable. The person they hated until their very last breath was now the only one they could think of in this hellish afterlife. They sit down at their vanity mirror, popping their bones back into place and tying a scarf around their neck to keep it straight. Cute. Beautiful. They still were. You saw beauty no one else had ever seen. You....You.....
It hurts... Their chest. That hole torn through it with sticks and sharp rocks was filled once again...with memories and thoughts of you.
The next day as you're heading out to pick up the days mail, you find that same ghoul on your doorstep. All dolled up and a single rose in hand - the blood of your mailman fresh on their teeth as they smile bashfully up at you.
"Hm...not exactly what I was expecting... Think we should raid his truck?- overheard my neighbor a few doors down talking about a new blender coming in today."
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jessikahathaway · 1 year ago
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Lose Your Head - PJM (M)
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Written for the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween Collab for @sailoryooons
A/N: Hali!!! I hope you enjoy this fic! It has been my absolute pleasure to write it for you <3 Happy Haliween!!
The collage was made by yours truly.
Special thanks to my bestie Ryn @queenofthedamnit for betaing this fic for me so I could post in time!
Title: Lose Your Head
Pairing: Park Jimin x F!Reader
Summary: As a constable’s assistant you have several duties to him and the police force. Not only as his assistant, but as his dear friend. However, when an ominous summoning sends you and Jimin both to the town of Sleepy Hollow, you fear there might be more at play than either of you understand. And feelings that you’d hope to bury for life bubble to the surface...
Genre/AU: Movie!AU, Thriller, SleepyHollow!AU, Romance, Smut
Rating: 21+
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gender Inequality (Due to the time period), Mild Gore (descriptions of blood and decapitations), EDIT: Minor character deaths, Smut Warnings: Virgin!Reader, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), handjob (m!receiving), mild dirty talk.
Words: 19.4k
“Constable Park Jimin!” A page boy yelled from the street. Jimin turned his head from his work and watched as the boy came running in with a sheet of paper. “Sir! A telegram from Sergeant Kim Namjoon from New York City!”
Jimin walked over and smiled kindly at the boy. “Thank you Martin,” he handed a few coins over to him and patted his head.
“Martin!” Your voice called from the desk. “Come here,” you said. 
Jimin smiled and watched as Martin ran to your side. “Yes miss!”
You handed over a few pieces of bread that you’d made and a square of cheese as a treat. “These ones didn’t turn out as good as I was hoping, so you take them and share them with your friends, okay?” You said, waggling a finger in teasing jest. You both knew Martin wouldn’t dare take it all for himself. That’s what made him such a good leader of the small but mighty group of page boys for Buffalo and the surrounding areas. 
“Yes miss! Thank you miss,” he smiled, taking the bag and waving to you and Jimin from the door before taking off down the road to deliver his next message. 
“You spoil him,” Jimin murmured, coming up behind you. You jumped at his proximity for a moment but relaxed quickly. Jimin’s presence has always calmed you.
You two had been friends for years now. Ever since he brought you in off the streets in his youth, you’d been friends. 
Now, was friendship the only thing that had developed between the two of you in your almost twenty years together? No... Well, at least not for you. Jimin had grown to be so kind and handsome, if not a little mischievous and devilish all the same, making life incredibly joyous but difficult for you.You didn’t want to make things awkward, and your friendship was the most valuable thing you had. No monetary possession, or romantic affliction, would sway that for you. 
With a deep sigh you turned and Jimin was right behind you and his eyes widened at your quick movements. Your faces were close and you could feel the startled breath he let out fan across your face as he stepped back.
“He’s a good kid,” you said with a pointed look. 
Jimin smiled and nodded in his agreement. “I trust you,” he said, as he always did. Because you two trusted each other with everything. Jimin was a wealthy constable and came from a family of police officers and other military officials. However, he was an orphan, his father passing away shortly after his birth and his mother dying at the tender age of five. He’d been given his inheritance and a staff at his family’s home and the rest was history. The staff raised the young boy, seeing as how none of his other extended family wanted to take him in. 
So when on a walk in the winter of his tenth year in this world, he found you. Only a year or two younger than him, but orphaned as well-except there was no inheritance or family to save you. You’d been on the streets, and unfortunately, it looked like you might die there. 
You were sick and shivering outside the tailors shop Jimin frequented for his school uniforms. Jimin looked to his attendant and asked if they had enough tea to share with you. The attendant hadn’t wanted to take you along, but his young master was in charge and honestly, he couldn’t stand to walk past another sick child on the road. 
Over the years you’d asked Jimin what made him stop that day, what made him choose you. And his reply was always the same. “I didn’t know what I was doing, I just knew that I wanted to help you.”
You looked down and saw the telegram Martin had brought in. “What does it say?” you asked. 
Jimin smiled softly, “I don’t know, I haven't read it yet, nosy,” he teased. 
You pouted at his teasing and swatted away the hand that tried to pinch your puffy cheeks. “He said, Sergeant, what would a Sergeant be contacting you for all the way out here?”
It was at this time you saw Jimin’s face darken a bit. “I have a feeling they’re dealing with a similar issue we were a year ago, also, my coroner training can be rather useful in certain situations,” he stated. 
Your stomach dropped. A year ago, you were chasing a serial killer. You and Jimin both had to scour the morgues, the crime scenes themselves, anywhere and everywhere this person could’ve been. You’d been so worried because Jimin had started receiving threats. It seemed like you were working double time to stay ahead of the serial killer to prevent more murders, not only for the people but for Jimin as well. Although it would make sense. Jimin is an educated man and the chief of the local police force has deferred to Jimin’s expertise several times over. You shouldn’t be surprised that someone else is looking to speak with him as well, and you had your own skill set that would be useful in certain situations.
Jimin got out his letter opener and examined the telegram. You waited patiently, not, for him to fill you in. 
His features darkened even more as he set the telegram down for you to see as well. 
Dear Mr. Constable,
It has come to my attention that there has been a string of murders out in a small town in southern New York. It has baffled the local police enforcement as well as some of my best men. I believe you and your assistant will be better suited to help the people of Sleepy Hollow. Attached are train tickets to come to the city to get a full debriefing for you and your assistant both. 
Please don’t delay in this matter, as there is much more at work than I think anyone truly understands. 
Signed: Sgt. Kim Namjoon, NYPD.
“What do we do?” you asked, worry and unease filling your chest. 
“We're going to New York City,” Jimin said softly. “He wouldn’t issue a summons like this without being in desperate need. The NYPD already doesn’t like us, I’m sure he’s not exactly thrilled to be calling on us regardless. But if we can lend him our expertise then the very least we can do is go and hear him out.”
Your temper flared at the mention of their dislike towards Jimin and yourself. “Just because we caught their killer doesn’t give them the right to be rude or unkind to us,” you said. 
Jimin grabbed your wrist and pulled you in closely. “People don’t like to be made fools of either, Y/N, please try to behave yourself when we go? I don’t want them putting a mark on your back too,” he asked. 
You sighed deeply, knowing it wasn’t going to be good picking a fight with the NYPD, even if you thought that they were being far too negligent in their own investigations. Jimin was right when he said they wouldn’t call without being in need. You nodded, letting the anger dissolve at least for now. 
“Go pack your things sweets, I’ll shut down the shop,” he said with a squeeze to your hand, letting go and heading towards the front. Ah, that nickname. He’d started calling you sweets when you were little. Even as a young girl you’d loved sweets, candies and pastries. So the name had stuck. Even now it brought heat to your face as you walked up the steps to your living quarters and did as previously instructed. You and Jimin usually packed light for these things so you just went about your usual methods. 
When you were rummaging through Jimin’s drawers for some socks you noticed a letter from a family friend listing off potential wives. Your throat tightened. Jimin hadn’t mentioned his search for a wife starting, or one even being a thought in his mind. No doubt people were being nosy and talking about things they had no knowledge of-
“Y/N, what have I told you about snooping?” Jimin sighed, leaning against the wall of his room. Your back straightened comically and Jimin couldn’t help the laughter that peeled out of him. 
You had always been such a terrible snoop, Jimin thought it was more curiosity than anything dangerous. And oftentimes you stumbled upon things by happenstance. You turned with a guilty expression and handed the papers to Jimin. When his eyes found what you’d discovered his face hardened a bit. 
“People love sticking their noses in my business,” he said, voice tight. He looked at you then, placing his hand on your head. You stared into his eyes and there was something he wanted to say. You could tell, his eyes were screaming unspoken words to you-but there was a ring at the doorbell and you knew Jimin ordered a carriage for you both to head to the train station. The moment dissolved as he tossed the letter in the fireplace and you watched as he grabbed the rest of your luggage without a word and headed out the door. 
You bit your lip and sighed deeply. Lately, these moments with Jimin had been frequent. These-feelings... Your feelings for him. They were becoming harder and harder to control. Especially when... when other women got involved.
You knew Jimin was going to take a wife. You’ve known for years it wouldn’t be you. And yet? To be confronted with it so blatantly and for him to hide it? You and Jimin might have more secrets between you than you believed, and part of that hurt worse than the idea of another woman coming into the picture.
With quick steps you headed towards the door, grabbing your coat and hat. These thoughts would have to be put in the back of your mind right now. There was something going on and the NYPD was going to have to start explaining themselves.
With that you shut and locked the door, heading down the steps towards the carriage. Jimin was waiting for you patiently and took your coat and helped you into the buggy without a word, but his hand squeezed yours when he sat down. With a knock you were off, but Jimin kept his hand in yours for a while longer. You just let him hold your hand, because truthfully-you needed it too.
--
The next morning you rolled into New York City and as always, you are astounded by the immensity of the city. Buffalo is decently sized, but nothing on the level of the Big City itself. Jimin had gotten you and him to the NYPD building with minute difficulty, taking your arm in his as he escorted you and himself up the steps to the offices. 
The secretary there noticed Jimin’s presence immediately and called for Sergeant Namjoon. 
Jimin and you both stood in the waiting room patiently, when he appeared in the space before you.
Sergeant Namjoon has always been a formidable individual. His intensity and severe intellect had him in the higher rankings of the NYPD shortly after his transfer. He was nice enough, but wasted little words on niceties and flattery.
“Constable Park, and your assistant. Thank you for coming here on such short notice,” he said. “Please, my office is this way-I’ll brief you on the situation there.”
Just as you were about to follow Jimin and Sergeant Namjoon, the secretary stopped you. “Sorry miss, you’ll have to stay behind,” she said. “This is a conversation for the men I’m afraid.”
You were ready to argue when Jimin took your wrist. “She is my assistant, she aids me in my investigations-I would rather her come with me so I don’t have to explain everything a second time.”
You looked at the secretary with a smug gaze as she let you pass. Jimin poked your rib and made you wince. 
“Don’t look so satisfied you little sprite,” he said softly.
“Sorry,” you said, the tone of your voice revealing you were everything but apologetic. Jimin tried to bite back his smile but it was hard when you were such a shit sometimes. He loved your mischievousness almost as much as your tenderness. But unfortunately, now was not the time for your antics and he really had to focus on this summons for the both of you.
Namjoon led you into his office and shut the door, looking at you both with a deep expression that had you perplexed. What was weighing so heavily on his mind that he reached out to Jimin and you specifically? As far as your last investigation with the NYPD, ah... you thought they’d wanted you two out of their sights. 
This must be bad...
The Sergeant took a deep breath before leveling his gaze with Jimin then you. “I didn’t want to summon either of you-let me make that perfectly clear. But my superiors and I agreed that we don’t have the skill set to deal with what is happening in Sleepy Hollow.”
Jimin’s head tilted. “Sleepy Hollow?”
Namjoon nodded. “An isolated town towards Hollow’s Creek in the southern part of the state.”
Your face twisted in confusion. “How did the NYPD get involved in something that is happening way outside your area of operation?”
As much as Jimin wanted to correct your bluntness with the Sergeant of the NYPD, he couldn’t help his own curiosity. And Jimin wasn’t going to extend any extra courtesies, especially with Sergeant Namjoon.
Namjoon looked at you and sighed. “The police in the area requested more professional assistance. So I sent in a few men, and we have more questions than answers at this point.”
“What can I provide that the NYPD doesn’t have access to?” Jimin asked, raising a brow. “Forgive me for asking in such a blunt manner but I’m merely confused.”
You had a feeling you knew what this was about, Jimin no doubt did as well. But Jimin could be rather cruel at times-he wanted Namjoon to admit the weakness in his men and the NYPD. He’d been correct when he said people don’t like to be made fools of. 
Jimin is a prime example of his statement. 
He was used to being underestimated, he was used to his work being made into a mockery. But the frightening thing about Jimin was his patience. He could wait an infinite amount of time if it was something he really wanted.
Namjoon set his jaw and looked at Jimin with stormy eyes. “My men are baffled with what is happening at Sleepy Hollow. People are being hunted down and losing their heads. Quite literally.”
Your stomach turned at the sound of things. But you swallowed and continued to listen to the briefing. Jimin took notice of your upset but was quick to place his hand on your back to encourage you to sit down. The last time either of you had dealt with something on this scale it took a toll on you.
“Who are our suspects?” Jimin asked.
“We have none.”
Jimin’s brows raised. “No suspects? No one in the town has the prospects or motivations? What about alibis?”
Namjoon slammed his hands on his table, causing a few things to fall and you to jump at his outburst. Jimin, however, was unaffected. His eyes were set on the man in front of him. “I don’t know. We have no leads, no nothing other than a list of my men turning up dead or missing. Too many people have died and we have gotten nothing as a result. I need people of your... expertise.”
He meant the deck. 
Your deck.
It was known in a few places that you dabbled in the occult and macabre. Jimin didn’t like to mention it often because he felt it could discredit the genuine work you both do. But you and your tarot cards had been together since the streets, although you’d gotten a few new decks in your time with Jimin. You’d do readings, originally it started as a scam-trying to get money from people so you could eat but eventually, you learned the craft. You managed to look into the art of divination and had found your intuition and the work of the cards had yet to steer you wrong. 
When Jimin had discovered them, he was furious with you for working with the deck and the occult. But overtime, when Jimin saw your work with the cards prove its worth over and over again-he finally relented. He only asked that you not do any readings pertaining to him unless it had to do with a case. 
His past and his future weren’t for prying in. If you had any questions you could ask. This request was more than fair, so you abided by it. That didn’t mean you weren’t curious.
When you and Jimin had worked with the NYPD the last time, Namjoon had discovered your secret. Originally he wanted you and Jimin off the case, but thankfully your cards had led you and the NYPD right to the killer.
But they had made it fairly clear from then on they would want as little to do with you and Jimin as humanly possible. Whatever is happening at Sleepy Hollow, it was nothing good. 
“You made it fairly clear to us that we weren’t going to be aiding you in any investigations moving forward-” Jimin began when Namjoon cut him off. 
“Regular investigations. This-This case... She has insight into the occult that no one working for the police department does. I need you both on this case, I can’t lose anymore men blindly,” Namjoon stated. “Something evil is at work in Sleepy Hollow. Truly evil.”
Jimin’s face hardened. “Then we aren’t going, I’m not risking our lives for people that don’t appreciate what she and I can do together.”
You stood then, placing your hands on Jimin’s arm. “We should go.”
Both men looked at you in shock. “Y/N-”
“The people in Sleepy Hollow need help, and if what Sergeant Namjoon is saying is true then we need to get there sooner rather than later. The longer things like this are left unchecked the harder it is for them to return to normal.”
Jimin looked into your eyes and if you weren’t accustomed to his deep and searching gaze you would turn hot at the action. But you mirrored his expression. Eyes passionate and burning like they always were. You had a strong moral compass and Jimin knew you wanted to help these people if you could. 
You wanted to pay back what he’d done for you all those years ago. You want to help those who cannot help themselves and that is one of the several things Jimin admires about you. You easily could’ve lived your days out as his friend-he’d even planned on helping you get a husband at one point but you’d quickly told him you weren’t interested in marrying. 
“Who wants someone that can tell if our relationship is going to be happy or miserable? Someone who can ‘see the future’. Or who will know what our child is before the doctor? People don’t like the occult or those associated with it.”
Jimin remembers how sad he felt that day. How lonely your eyes looked. But you were stronger than anyone he’d ever met.
So when your passionate gaze pleaded with his now-he relented.
“Sergeant Namjoon, I would like a full debriefing file for me and Y/N. We will head to Sleepy Hollow by the week’s end?”
The Sergeant nodded. “Yes. I will have everything prepared and sent to your accommodations.”
“Very well then, come along sweets, you said you wanted to visit a bakery while we were here in the City,” Jimin said, wrapping your arm around his as he gave a polite, but stiff, nod to Namjoon before leading you out the door. 
“Yes! I want to try a New York cheesecake,” you said with joy, looking at Jimin with a smile.
One he tried to return. But it did not reach his eyes.
--
It was the night before you were to travel to Sleepy Hollow. The train left early in the morning, but you couldn’t help but want to meditate on your deck for a while before you departed. 
With the window open and the moonlight streaming into the room you sat on the floor with your deck sitting in your lap. You inhaled deeply and just let the energy and light of the moon fill you. Sitting in the still and darkness of night had always brought you a serenity you couldn’t quite understand to this day.
It just felt right to sit amongst the stars and feel the energy of the world and people around you working together. But then the energy shifted and you turned your head with a smile. “You know you can’t sneak around with me.”
“Doesn’t stop me from trying,” Jimin said with a smile, walking towards you. He handed you your dressing gown to cover your nightdress and you wrapped it around yourself. 
“What do you need?”
Jimin’s face faltered for a moment. “I can’t just come sit with you?”
You gave him a sympathetic look. “Not when you look like that, come sit and tell me what’s bothering you.”
Jimin moved with you to the bed and sat with you. You crossed your legs and set the deck back in its container until you packed them in the morning. Jimin’s eyes were locked on the cards and you raised a brow. 
Your friend sighed deeply and rested his head in your lap. You weren’t surprised by the action, Jimin was very physically affectionate, even if it could be frowned upon by others. You two were unmarried and merely friends. This level of intimacy between the two of you could be deemed inappropriate. But you and Jimin had never played by societal norms, why start now?
“I’m worried. Once we arrive the killer will very likely add us to their roster,” he said, head resting on your thigh. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled. 
“Occupational hazard.”
He grabbed your hand and sat up quickly. You jolted at the sudden motion and Jimin’s face was very close to yours. “I can’t allow anything to happen to you.”
“What makes you think something is going to happen to us?” You asked, brushing some of his hair away from his face. Jimin put your hands together in your lap, looking at them with an unreadable expression. 
“The last time we used your cards in an investigation you almost died. They almost killed you.”
You were hoping he wouldn’t worry about that. But of course, Jimin has a tender heart and doesn’t want anything to happen to those he cares about. With a gentle squeeze to his hands you shook your head.
“I didn’t listen to the cards correctly, that’s my fault Jimin. It wasn’t intentional, accidents happen-”
“They can’t happen, Y/N, I don’t want you to use them unless specifically related to the case,” he said. 
You scoffed. “Jimin, honestly,” you took your hands away from his and you could tell he was upset. “What’s got you all worked up about the cards?”
“They’re dangerous-”
“Jimin, my cards are an extension of me,” you explained. “They are only dangerous if I am using them for improper means. Which I’m not. They are only as dangerous as I make them.”
“My words stand. I don’t want you using them unless they are being used for the case. That’s final.” He said firmly.
You gaped at him. “What the hell is the matter with you? Jimin, if I don’t use the cards then my readings could be less accurate. That’s more dangerous than me meditating with them.”
Jimin stood and walked to the door. “Those damn things have brought us nothing but trouble when you use them.”
The pain from his words ripped right through your chest. “We’ve caught killers because of that deck!”
“I’ve almost lost you because of that fucking deck!” He said, chest heaving. 
You two haven’t fought like this in years. Probably since the time Jimin found them in your room the very first time.
That’s when you finally saw it.
The fear in his eyes. The fear that was wrapping around him and surrounding his heart. He was hesitant to use the cards again after you led yourself right into a killer’s path. You’d just about been taken when Jimin and the NYPD showed up and stopped the killer in his tracks.
“Jimin...”
“I can’t lose you, Y/N, it would break me. I’d have nothing,” he said, holding your face. When he said things like this it made your heart ache. You wished he would say these things to you under different circumstances.
“You won’t lose me, Jimin. I promise. We’ll be careful. I’ll keep the cards discreet alright? We’ll pretend I don’t even have them, only you and I will know,” you said, holding his wrists. 
Jimin breathed in deeply. Resting his forehead on yours. Your heart stammered in your chest as he closed in and brought you in for a tight embrace. His one arm wrapped around your shoulders as the other pulled you in by your lower back, molding your fronts together. “Please... please be careful. This isn’t a normal case, the NYPD is even frightened of whatever we are about to embark on. I don’t know how dangerous this is. Everything in me is saying we shouldn’t tamper with this.” His words were muffled by your skin. 
His hot breath was trailing over your flesh and making your mind race. But you swallowed and answered as calmly as you could. 
“We will do this as we have done everything in our lives... together,” you promised, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him back. 
You two stayed like that for a while until you were too tired to remain awake any longer. Jimin departed with one final hug and went back to his room. 
After his warmth was gone the chill of the night settled in again. You found yourself wishing he’d stayed. Even as you fell asleep, you wished for his frame next to yours.
--
You stood at the ticket window with Jimin as he gathered your train passes. He tucked them in his pocket and gathered your things along with his on the cart. You headed towards the train with his arm in yours and when your luggage was taken by a member of the staff Jimin helped you up into the train.
Your cabin was private, your personal things being placed above you as the stewardess came around and asked if you’d like anything to eat or drink. 
The trip to Sleepy Hollow was a long one, making you wonder more and more why the NYPD even got involved. Normally they wouldn’t have the jurisdiction to work outside of the city let alone damn near out of the state. They claimed the townspeople asked for help, but what was so bad that they couldn’t just go to the nearest city’s police?
“Did you read the briefing packet?” Jimin asked, looking out the window.
You yawned and shook your head. “No, I was planning to read it on the way there.”
Jimin smiled then. “You were huh? You’ve always slept on trains, what made you think this was going to be different?” he nudged your foot with his. 
With a pout you pulled the paperwork out of your bag and started looking over it.
That’s when you saw it.
The photos.
The quality is never good but you clearly saw the bodies. They were grotesque and you felt your stomach turn at the sight but you knew you needed to see more if you were going to understand. 
Jimin was quiet, resting his eyes as you moved through the packet with curiosity. 
Five victims from the town thus far. All deaths have been ruled as decapitations. The heads have yet to be recovered.
Victim’s occupations and ages all vary.
23 - Butcher’s Son
61 - Town Treasurer
19 - Stable Hand
45 - Seamstress
33 - Town Crier
Along with six members of the New York Police Department - three of which have yet to be recovered at the time of this briefing.
All of this information was pertinent but somehow, it felt like there was something very big missing from all of it. 
“Jimin? Did you see any suspects? I know Namjoon mentioned they didn’t have anything solid, but I didn’t anticipate they had none whatsoever...”
A deep sigh came from your friend. “No, I didn’t. That’s one of the first things we need to assess when we arrive. Who are our possible suspects and how were they able to remain undetected for so long?”
You nodded. “Where are we staying?” you asked. 
“The local innkeep as said we are more than welcome to stay if we are helping them with the case. He’s got a room set up for us.” Jimin stated. 
“A room?” you raised a brow.
“The inn only has so many rooms Y/N, is sharing with me really so terrible?” he teased.
“I suppose not, we did it a lot when we were younger,” you smiled at the memories. 
Jimin chuckled. “Things were a lot simpler then huh?” He looked at you and you wished you could know what he was thinking at that moment. Jimin could be so expressive, but only when he wanted to be. In a flash he could hide his true emotions and thoughts behind a mask of ambiguity. Even being his friend as long as you had didn’t always help. 
“They were,” you said with a soft tone. 
The train whistle blew and you knew that you were coming up on your next stop. With a yawn you placed the packet down. If you agonized over it even more you weren’t going to have any breakthroughs. So you rested against the wall of the train and the seat, letting your head and neck grow heavy as sleep took you. 
--
You and Jimin got off the train in the nearest city and had to travel in a carriage the rest of the way. It was cramped, and your luggage hung precariously off the back of the warped wooden exterior but you kept your mouth shut.
The woods around the town made your skin prickle with nerves. Jimin seemed to sense your unease and placed his hand on your shoulder. “It’s alright, sweets...”
When you were younger you’d gotten lost in the woods. Jimin and you had been playing hide and seek in the woods near his family’s summer home. It was dark when Jimin and his nanny found you. Curled up in a tree trunk crying. Ever since then, the woods terrified you. You swallowed thickly and looked at Jimin with a weak smile. 
He brushed some of your hair away from your face and patted your cheek. “Steady, Y/N, we’re coming into town.”
You watched as you emerged from the woods into a small clearing. The town was surrounded by the woods and the houses all seemed old and decrepit. The people watched as the carriage approached. It pulled towards the stables and a group of people came around to greet you and Jimin both. 
The door opened and Jimin helped you out. 
“Welcome, Constable Park and your... wife?” A man with graying hair and soft blue eyes looked between you and Jimin.
Jimin shook his head. “No, this is Y/N, she is my assistant and helps me with my cases.”
A young woman towards the back of the group had immediately taken notice of Jimin and you fought the urge to hold him tighter. 
“Apologies, I am the mayor-Douglas Hart,” he introduced himself, shaking Jimin’s hand and giving yours a kind squeeze. “This is my daughter, Zalia Hart,” he said, bringing the young woman to the front.
She curtsied to Jimin and gave him a bright smile. “Hello Constable.”
You could see Jimin’s eyes examining her and you felt a lump form in your throat. 
“Zalia has been helping me during this entire process, since my late wife, her mother, passed away she’s been in my care, you see. I am eternally grateful for her help and she has agreed to cooperate fully with you and your investigation here,” the Mr. Hart explained. 
“I’m happy to help our people Papa, don’t worry,” she said, expression soft as she looked at her father.
Jimin nodded. “We are grateful to any and all help you can offer us. Our first priority is seeing all the evidence that has been collected and I want to see all of the bodies,” he stated. 
“Can we get settled first?” you asked, raising a brow at him. 
Jimin’s eyes locked on yours and he nodded. “Yes, let’s get our things inside and then we can start looking around a bit more.”
Mr. Hart and Zalia both nodded. “Please, get settled, Zalia will come and collect you a bit later,” the mayor said. 
You and Jimin headed towards the inn where the keeper gave you a polite nod. “Hello constable,” he greeted.
“How did you know I was the constable?” Jimin asked. 
“We don’t exactly get a lot of new faces around town. Well, except for recently. Unfortunate the thing that’s bringing people to our home is so horrific,” he said, face not matching his words. 
You took note of him immediately. 
“Well, let me introduce myself properly,” Jimin said. “I am Constable Park Jimin and this is my assistant Y/N,” he said. You gave the innkeep a smile, one he didn’t return. 
“A pleasure. I’m Jeremy Weaver, my wife is Adelaide Weaver, she’s out currently but if you need anything during your stay let her or myself know. Please, let me show you to your room,” he said, walking out from behind the counter to lead them up the steps. “Watch your feet, these steps are a little warped,” he stated.
You and Jimin climbed the steps and soon a few rooms came into view. There was another set of stairs that you assumed lead to the attic but when the innkeep started heading up them you tilted your head.
Jimin also paused at the change in direction and Jeremy took notice. “Our regular rooms are all filled up right now, but we have a bigger room in the attic that can house you both more... comfortably.”
He continued up the stairs and you and Jimin followed him. 
“I apologize for the confusion but there’s only one bed, we were under the impression your assistant was... well, we’ll get another set of linens up here and see if the old cot is still salvageable,” he stated. 
Jimin and you looked around. The room wasn’t massive, but it would be enough for you and him for the time being.
“Meals are served at eight, noon and five respectively. Your room and board has already been paid for so you are welcome to eat downstairs or you can take your meals up here. Just let Adelaide know. I’ll go down and start helping them get your luggage up here. If you need anything let me know,” he said, heading out of the room and. 
You sighed and set your bag on the bed and looked at Jimin. “He’s a little off, don’t you think?” you asked.
“I think we’ve been traveling for almost an entire day, and I am exhausted,” he said, sitting heavily on the bed and rubbing his face. You moved next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Jimin has never traveled well, the whole experience has always been rather stressful for him.
“Do you want me to do the initial work?” you offered, squeezing his shoulder. 
“No, I’ll be fine, I'm just... Can we do a reading tonight? For the case?” Jimin asked. 
You raised a brow. His outburst about the cards last night made you hesitant to even mention a reading today. “What do you want the cards to reveal to you?” you asked instead, sitting down next to him.
“I want to narrow our field when it comes to our suspects. Could the cards bring it down to three?” He questioned.
“I don’t know if I have enough information on the town and the energy here yet... I could possibly get five. But three this soon isn’t likely,” you said. It was odd for him to request the cards so quickly. 
He nodded thoughtfully before standing up. A knock came to the door and Jeremy had returned with a stable hand as well as your luggage. Though there was no cot. 
“We weren’t able to find that old cot, we can put some blankets on the floor for someone,” he stated. 
Jimin sighed, his expression weary. “That’ll be fine, Mr. Weaver, my assistant and I will be departing for the time being,” he stated. “Come along, Y/N, we’ve got some preliminary investigating to do.”
You stood, heading to him as you both excused yourselves from Jeremy and the stable hand. The pair of you made it down the steps and out into the open air once more when Zalia’s kind face made an appearance. 
“Hello Constable! My father had me wait for you and your assistant to escort you both to the cemetery. We’ve already buried some of the deceased, but Mrs. Rellian and Gregor have yet to have their funerals. My father said you would want to see them,” she said. 
“Yes, thank you Miss Hart-”
“Zalia, please,” she said with a beautiful smile. 
Jimin usually didn’t get very personal during your cases. He never called people by their first names to avoid attachment-
“Zalia,” he corrected. “Please, lead the way.”
You wanted to hide the sour expression on your face, but Jimin quickly picked up on your lack of subtlety. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
With a sniff you walked forwards. “Nothing, we’ve got work to do,” you said, hiking up your skirts a bit as you stalked after the radiant young woman. She’d done nothing wrong and yet you couldn’t help the fire that lit in your chest at the expression she wore. Eyes glimmering when she looked at Jimin. And he’d said her name. He never said anyone’s names! It was too personal!
With a deep sigh, Jimin followed after you. You were unpredictable sometimes. Jimin usually enjoyed your spontaneity, but right now it was irritating him more than anything. You were correct you both had work to do, but you never worked well if you were upset. It clouded your judgment. And Jimin didn’t have time for you to throw a fit when you’d only just arrived today.
He managed to match your pace as you followed after Zalia. 
“Y/N, are you really not going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low.
You gave him a warning glance. “There’s nothing to discuss,” you urged. 
Jimin didn’t look convinced but you approached a small graveyard just inside the treeline. You reached back for Jimin unconsciously and he was there, even if you two would spat here and there-it didn’t matter. At the end of the day he had your back and you had his.
His hand squeezed yours and he led you towards the small hut just beside the graveyard they were no doubt using for a morgue and preparation area for the deceased. Zalia stood outside and Mr. Hart was waiting in the doorway speaking with someone who was still inside the hut.
Jimin sighed as he handed you a cloth to cover your nose and mouth with to ease the worst of the smell. Even from here the sweet and sour stench of death hung heavy in the air. As you approached a tall but skinny man stood just inside the hut with an apron and gloves on. 
“Constable, Miss Y/N,” Mr. Hart greeted. “This is Doctor Stewart, he’s been our town’s physician for years. He even delivered Zalia,” he said, eyes showing a tenderness towards the young woman who smiled at him.
She seemed chipper as ever. 
“Doctor,” Jimin greeted. “I have coroner's training, and my assistant has a keen eye for observation. Would you be able to show us these last two individuals that have yet to be buried? Zalia informed us there was a man and a woman.”
Doctor Stewart nodded. “Yes, Gregor and Lucinda. Gregor was our town crier and worked with the stable hands as well. Lucinda was a seamstress and sold her wares in markets in a few towns over... She’d just gotten back. Her daughter is devastated...”
“Lucinda was my late wife's friend...” Mr. Hart sighed deeply. “I hope they’re taking tea together somewhere better...” Zalia squeezed her father’s arm.
Jimin nodded his sympathies as he looked back at Doctor Stewart. “May we examine the bodies?”
Doctor Stewart looked at you briefly before nodding. “Of course, however I must warn you that the sight is hardly appropriate for a lady,” he warned. 
“I’m prepared to see whatever lies ahead, Doctor,” you said with an even tone. “I’ve experienced this before and I can assure you this won’t be my last.”
The doctor merely moved aside and let you and Jimin enter the small space. You were struck by the intensity of the smell first. It was horrific and even Jimin stiffened at the odor. But the worse fact was the sight of their bodies laying on the tables. He’d already done the work of covering them with sheets but there was a very clear issue.
Their heads were missing.
And not just from their bodies but from the scene entirely.
“Where are the heads?” Jimin asked and Doctor Stewart and Mr. Hart both got grim looks on their faces.
Mr. Hart spoke first. “We’ve yet to recover any of the heads that have been taken.”
“Taken?” You asked, turning to look at him with confusion on your features. 
“H-He takes them, when he kills them he takes the heads with him...”
Zalia’s quiet voice made your heart break. She was petrified of whatever she had running through her head. The vacant look in her eyes told you that much.
“Who?” Jimin asked.
“The horseman,” she whispered. “He takes the heads when he kills them and-!”
“Zalia, enough,” Mr. Hart said. “That is an old horror story told to scare kids-you are a young lady, this rambling about a horseman isn’t becoming.”
She quieted herself with a pout on her face, but you knew she believed it. She believed it was a horseman stealing these people’s heads. It was nothing but a nightmare told to frighten children but you couldn’t help but for the idea gave you pause. You’d seen things in this world you couldn’t quite explain. Just as you read cards that few understood. You wanted to speak to Zalia more about this horseman, even if it turned out to be nothing but a children’s horror story. 
“Doctor, can you reveal the bodies to us please?” Jimin asked. Doctor Stewart’s face turned into a grimace as he looked to Mr. Hart who was quick to wrap Zalia up in his arms before he did as instructed. 
You held your breath and the sheets were removed. Jimin squeezed your hand as you looked upon the deceased. “Oh God...”
Their heads were cut clean off. Bodies hardly touched other than the odd bruise and scratch. Doctor Stewart had already done their examinations and handed over the report to Jimin.
“They were healthy, Gregor had a slight cough but nothing that wasn’t manageable. Their deaths have been ruled as decapitations. My assistant, Yoongi, wrote up all of my notes and some of his own as well. He traveled to the city to work with Sergeant Namjoon with our case, but he should be back within the week.” 
Jimin nodded. You walked closer to the bodies and looked over them. You mapped their skin and noted any irregularities. Doctor Stewart seemed distressed at your lack of care being so near death, but you’d been around plenty in your lifetime. You doubt it would stop now. Jimin watched your figure walking around, he needed to be attuned to you at this moment. And he was making his own mental notes as well. No doubt to be discussed at a later time.
You went to adjust the arm when you felt a shock go through your entire frame. A dark forest surrounded in fog and mist befell your view. The sound of a horse stomping through the earthy soil... Towards you... A steed black as night with vibrant red eyes that seemed to glow in the evening air. 
It’s cold. The blade felt like ice as it ripped through-
“Y/N!” Jimin called frantically as he caught you before you hit the ground. He was stunned at the fact you’d collapsed. You’d never done that before during an investigation. Except when...
Jimin’s blood ran cold... You’d seen something again.
It was rare it happened but there were times that you’d see visions. You’d seen things about the cases. How people died. How they spent their last moments burned into your mind. 
“Y/N,” he breathed softly, brushing your hair away from your face as you lay limp in his arms.
“Here, a cool cloth for her,” the doctor offered. “On the back of her neck.”
Jimin placed it on your skin and massaged the muscles underneath gently. “Come on, Y/N,” he murmured, resting his head on yours. He hated waiting, he was worried and he needed you to open your eyes and look at him. His heart squeezed painfully, he hoped whatever you were seeing you wouldn’t be too frightened...
You started to rouse a few moments later. You could still feel the ice cold blade slicing through your flesh. Frantically you sat up, Jimin was quick to pull you back. “Easy, Y/N, rest a moment, deep breaths.”
Your heart was hammering against your ribs as you tried desperately to follow his instructions. Seeing what you did and reliving the last moments of these people’s lives was horrifying to say the least. With shaky hands you took the water from Doctor Stewart and sipped slowly. Jimin helped you up the rest of the way and led you outside so you could get some fresh air away from the bodies and death.
The sight from your vision was causing chills to run down your spine. Prickles of fear and anxiety rushed over your skin. You were far away from the small group of people as you sat down near the treeline.
“What happened, Y/N?” Jimin asked, standing beside you.
“They were being chased. Through the forest...” you began. “They were so frightened Jimin, and no one came for them.” The thought petrified you and brought slight tears to your eyes. He sighed heavily before he sat down next to you. His hand found yours and he gave you a gentle squeeze.
“Do you want to return home? Say the word and we can drop this case, Y/N... I don’t care about the NYPD-”
“No-No Jimin it isn’t that,” you said softly. “I don’t want to give up, we’ve only just arrived.”
“We need to be careful, Y/N, there’s a murderer loose in this village and we need to figure out who they are and bring them to justice before anything happens to more people,” he said.
“I’ll do the reading tonight,” you murmured. “We’ll need the information to go further, there’s not enough here to give us any definitives. The cards can guide us.”
Jimin nodded. “Of course, I’m with you...”
“And I’m with you.”
--
You were scrubbing yourself off in a bath. The warm water soothed the aches and stiffness from traveling all day. A knock came to the door. Mrs. Weaver came in with more hot water and you gave her an appreciative smile. 
“Y/N?” Jimin’s voice called from the other side of your bathing screen. 
“Yes Jimin, you can sit,” you said. Mrs. Weaver raised a brow at the two of you before heading out of the bathing room entirely, leaving you and Jimin alone.
“What’s wrong Jimin?” You asked, sitting back in the water.
“I read through some of Doctor Stewart’s assistant’s notes, Yoongi. He’s quite thorough, which is good for us. He noticed the pattern of the decapitations are either from the side or from the back, meaning your vision was correct. These people are running away from their attacker.”
You nodded. “It makes sense, I’d run if someone on a horse was chasing me as well... Did you get any more information on this horseman myth Zalia was speaking about?”
Jimin got quieter then. “I interviewed her personally,” he mentioned. “And the story is disturbing to say the least.”
Him interviewing the buxom young woman made your skin feel hot with jealousy... But you breathed in deeply and sank further into the warm water. “Tell me.”
“The headless horseman is a restless spirit. Whether he is an old soldier or mercenary not many know anymore. Zalia explained that the horseman is looking for his head. When he was buried, whoever did it-a witch in some tellings, his fellow soldiers in others, left him without his head-knowing he would rise again. And whomever has his head controls the spirit of the horseman. And she believes that is who the culprit of the murders are.”
“And what do you believe, Jimin?” You asked.
He was quiet for a bit. “I’m not sure Y/N, this entire case is a ball of different mysteries all wrapped up into one. I’m not sure who or what to believe.” 
“Trust me?” you breathed.
He was quick to respond this time. “With my life.”
“Hand me the robe over there?” You asked, standing up from the bath and wrapping yourself up in a towel. Jimin’s hand appeared from the other side of the screen, passing you your robe so you could get dressed. You took it and wrapped yourself up in the warm fabric. You walked out with wet hair and Jimin felt his breath catch in his throat. The robe was shorter, leaving your legs more exposed than usual.
Jimin knew you didn’t mind him seeing you like this, but usually he wasn’t so-affected. He’d been your friend for so many years and had noticed your beauty as you’d grown older but… but this was something else entirely.
You grabbed your nightgown and moved towards the changing area, but not before Jimin caught a glimpse of your thigh and swiftly turned his back to give you more privacy. What was the matter with him? You were his best friend, not someone to ogle when he was a little riled up... But he couldn’t help but think of your beauty. Not just your physical attractiveness, but your heart too...
“Jimin?” You asked, walking out in your nightgown and pulling your dressing gown back on. For now, these thoughts would be put to the back of his mind, there were far more important things he needed to focus on. The shapely state of your legs wasn’t one of them. Unfortunately.
“Come on, Y/N, we should probably head to bed,” he said, his voice calm and soothing to your ears. You nodded, following him out of the bathing room and up the steps. When you finally made it to the attic you found yourself more exhausted than you originally thought. Your head swam, eager for sleep. But you and Jimin both knew that you still had work to do.
When he shut the door to your room you both noticed that there was a thick assortment of blankets and pillows on the floor. No doubt Mrs. Weaver was up here to help with that. She was kind enough, if not a little quiet. 
You moved to your luggage and found your cards tucked away in the subtle compartment that you’d personally stitched into it. The box felt solid and comfortable in your hands. Opening it you pulled your deck out and moved towards the small table that sat right underneath the window next to the fireplace. Jimin moved to sit with you, collecting the notebook he wrote in during your readings. When you both were settled, you started shuffling.
“What would you like to ask first?”
Jimin thought for a moment. “What kind of evil are we dealing with?”
You shuffled the cards until you felt the need to stop. When you turned the card over your blood ran cold. 
“Upright Devil...” You murmured. 
Jimin stiffened in his seat and you looked at him with concerned features. But he wrote the card and its position down. “Usually your deck isn’t so literal.”
“Ask direct questions, get direct answers,” you warned.
“How soon before we discover the culprit behind these murders?”
You shuffled again, turning over the card and placing it on the table. “Upright Ace of Wands. Wands burn quickly-we will know the answer within days...”
“Are we in danger?” Jimin asked aloud. You shuffled the deck, laying down the next card.When you turned it over a frown curled across your features. The card was blank.
“This isn’t good... Someone is trying to tamper with my reading...” You murmured softly. You went to touch your deck when heat flared out from them. In shock you dropped them to the ground, watching as smoke and ash started curling up into the air from the deck. Your heart broke at the sight of your beloved cards burning... Instinctually you went to try and save them if you could. But, it was far too late. Whomever cursed your deck had succeeded. Your cards were gone.
Tears burned in your eyes. Jimin approached with shock written across his face. “W-What on Earth was that?” He asked.
“Someone knows Jimin. Someone knows exactly what I’m capable of, and I think that is the very person we came here to locate,” you murmured.
Jimin felt his throat tighten at the information. If someone knew that meant they were already ten steps ahead of you and Jimin both. You understood now why Namjoon had sent you and Jimin here. 
There truly was something supernatural going on, and you and Jimin very well might be the only people able to stop it.
--
The darkness of the night felt suffocating. Black surrounded the edges of your vision. The smell of sulfur and ash stung your nose as you tried not to choke on the rotten stench. A high pitched snort cut through the night and you turned to find him. Large frame, leather armor strapped down with a long burgundy cape billowing out behind him. No head sat atop his body... His horse stood tall, black as obsidian and lit by the piercing light of the moon peeking through the clouds. The horse pawed at the Earth, bright red eyes staring you down. The smell of the damp soil filled your nose and you realized you were alone... Jimin was nowhere to be seen. Your heart thudded in your chest as your palms started to sweat. The deep, ice cold fear trickled down your spine as you took notice of the large broadsword that was attached to the figure’s side. No doubt that weapon could cut your head off with ease, slicing through your neck like butter.
You couldn’t help your fight or flight-so you ran, taking off into the forest without ceremony. Your feet took off faster than your mind, but the horseman gave chase shortly thereafter. The steed carried his master quickly and effectively through the underbrush of the woods. You ducked and turned and jumped, trying desperately to get away from whomever this was. Whatever it was. Your lungs ached and the sound of the horse was only getting closer. Dread clung to your heart like a wet blanket.
You were going to die out here.
Young trees and pricking briars stung your flesh as you tried to move through the forest quickly and in a sporadic manner. If you could just get to the clearing for the village. Perhaps you could get to Jimin and-
Just as you managed to turn the corner, the horseman caught you by the scruff of your hair, yanking you back as you tumbled to the ground in a heap. The horseman hauled your head up, brandishing his blade and started bringing it down. With what you were certain to be your last breaths you screamed for the one person you could think of.
“JIMIN!”
Warm hands caressed your face. 
“Y/N! Hey, hey easy,” his sweet voice called.
Your eyes flew open, Jimin’s concerned face coming into your view. Tears welled up in your eyes, moving quickly you wrapped your arms around his neck. He brought you in close, rubbing your back as you trembled in his hold.
“Y/N… what happened?” Jimin asked-shocked by your outburst. He’d been sleeping by the fireplace before you started crying out in your slumber. “Sweets, deep breaths...” he cooed. Your body was shaking hard at the fear and how real that fucking nightmare felt. Were you reliving what happened to someone else? Or... Or were you fortelling something? Was that your future if you stayed on the current path you were on? 
“I’m scared,” you whispered. “It was so real, Minie,” you said, the simple childhood nickname you’d given him that only appeared when you wanted something or you were truly frightened. 
Jimin scooped you up and sat down with you curled up in his lap. He pet your hair and rested against you, letting your hand splay across his chest to feel the rhythmic beating of his heart. “I’m here, you’re safe with me, Y/N-I promise,” he said, voice that soothing vanilla timbre that had always been sweet and warm. 
When you finally could look him in the eyes he gave you a gentle smile. Wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.
Jimin was frightened for you, but panicking would only worsen this situation. When you could talk you would, and he’d help you like he always does. Something dark was here, and it was already showing him and you how powerful it was. Jimin could feel your hiccups and cries softening when you leaned back to look at him. 
Your eyes were bright with tears in the night, sparkling from the light of the stars and moon outside the window. You were so... beautiful.
Jimin hadn’t really noticed before. A sweet face with mischievous brows that would wrinkle when you were up to no good. Cheeks that he would pinch and poke when you were mad at him for whatever reason. A cute nose that would always run during the springtime. Lips that looked soft and begging for a kiss-
Jimin inhaled deeply, trying to control his thoughts. You were frightened and this was not the time to observe your beauty. “You’re alright, Y/N,” he said, bringing you back into his embrace. “Don’t be frightened...”
You wrapped around him again, arms winding across his neck and shoulders. Your head settled on his collarbone as you both watched the fire. It was small and would no doubt be out by morning, but just resting against his frame was calming your racing mind. All you could think about was him. His strong arms and lithe frame curling into you, his warm palms running over your back and hip as he held you close. 
He spoke his next words into your hair. “What happened sweets, what did you see?” he said, voice soft and breathy. Your grip on his shoulders tightened and he squeezed your hip. “I’m here, nothing will hurt you while I’m here so please Y/N,” he said. “Tell me what you saw?”
“The horseman,” you whimpered. “It chased me through the forest and when it caught me I...”
“Okay,” Jimin murmured when your voice turned teary once more. “No more, don’t think about it anymore tonight, just relax.”
You sniffled early into the morning, Jimin rocking back and forth slowly as the sun started to rise. Finally, as the fire turned to embers then to coals you fell asleep and Jimin didn’t have it in him to move. So he pulled you under the covers with him, letting you curl up against him as you shared your warmth. 
As he started to lull into slumber he swore he saw something move from underneath the door, as if... as if someone was watching the pair of you. Jimin couldn’t think much longer on it as sleep pulled him under into the black abyss of warmth.
--
The next four days passed rather uneventfully. No one had ever witnessed the horseman taking a life. So there were no witnesses to interview.
You and Jimin tried to gather as much information as you could. Speaking with the townspeople and trying to understand what had happened and why the village has been thrown into such dark times when the place seemed quite quiet and uneventful prior.
The only thing you and Jimin discovered was the death of the current Mayor’s wife had come as a shock to the small community, and Zalia had been grieving for months on end. She’d only just recently started coming outside and being herself once more.
However, the young woman had started giving you a headache. She had been following you and Jimin around like a little lovesick puppy and it was making you nauseous. You didn’t think she was a bad kid, but honestly? The whole doe eyed bit wasn’t exactly innocuous.
She’d been trying to get Jimin alone and you were rather powerless to stop her. Jimin hadn’t exactly stopped her, and he didn’t seem to find anything wrong with her following you both around for the time being.
If you didn’t know him any better you’d think he was starting to become smitten with the little minx. The rage that boiled in your belly festered over the few days, causing you to snap and be rude to Jimin at random points.
You didn’t like being mean to him, you didn’t like snapping. But the obliviousness of him and the forward attitude of the little sprite had you irritated and wanting nothing more than to scrub yourself clean. Especially after the long day you and Jimin had today. She’d watched him and you work your asses off and hadn’t offered her assistance once, just ogling Jimin while his muscles strained to finish the task.
At the end of the evening you’d gone to the bathing room. You and Jimin had exhumed the other bodies today with Doctor Stewart and Min Yoongi and it had been a shit load of digging and you just wanted to bathe.
Jimin had taken the brunt of your sour attitude today and he was exhausted. But he knew once you’d bathed you’d feel better. He sat outside the bathing room when Zalia approached, a sweet smile on her face. 
“Hello Constable!” she said, voice soft and pleasant.
“Hi Zalia,” he nodded. “How are you this evening? Did you get dinner from your father?”
Zalia’s face remained neutral as she placed her hands behind her back and leaned forward. “I’ve been looking for you...”
“Me?” Jimin asked.
She nodded, locks of chocolate brown hair falling in loose curls over her shoulders. “Yes, but Miss Y/N is always around so I can’t ever speak with you alone...”
“Well anything related to our case I have to share with Y/N anyways so-”
Zalia moved closer, her chest starting to level with Jimin’s face. “And if it doesn’t have to do with your case?”
Jimin coughed, turning his head uncomfortably. “Zalia, I’ve had a long day and I’d wish to simply bathe and go to sleep. What can I do for you?”
“Kiss me,” she whispered, leaning in to capture his lips. Jimin was so stunned he didn’t even move until the door opened and you stood there in your bathing robe. He pulled back quickly but the look on your face said it all. You’d seen. And you were furious.
“What the fuck...?” you breathed. 
Zalia got a faux look of innocence on her face. “Miss Y/N! I didn’t know you were in there.”
You scoffed aloud, disbelief and hurt crossing your features. You had no right to be hurt, because it had just been made painfully clear to you that you and Jimin will never be anything more than friends. Without a glance in his direction you shoved past Zalia and headed towards the steps with fury in your wake. 
Jimin sighed and went to follow you when Zalia grabbed his wrist. “Don’t, she’s so mean to you Constable. I’m kind and sweet and I’d make a great wife-”
“You are not kind,” he said, turning to look at her. “You are a spoiled and vindictive young child. I am not interested in taking a wife like that. Go to your father, we don’t require any more help from you.”
With that Jimin wrenched his wrist from her tight grip and headed up the steps after you. When Jimin finally made it to the top you had shut the door and locked it. He sighed heavily as he rested his head against the door. “Sweets... let me in please?” he asked, voice thick from running up the steps so fast. 
“Go away Jimin.”
“I can’t, you know I can’t until you tell me what’s wrong,” he said, sitting down and leaning against the door.
You sat on the other side of the door, big tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried not to cry like an adolescent. But you couldn’t help the well of emotions that opened up when you saw the man you’ve adored for almost twenty years at this point... kissing someone else. 
You know Jimin isn’t innocent in the way of women. He went to college and was away for some months and there was a difference when he came back. He was always your Jimin but, for a time it felt different. You assumed he’d had sex and kissed people. But you didn’t think about it often, it hurt too much. And now to have seen it? Right in front of you?
Your little heart shattered. 
“It’s nothing,” you said, sniffling and rubbing your eyes. 
“If you’re crying it’s not nothing,” he said through the door. “Let me in, Y/N...”
“No,” you said. “Go away, leave me alone.”
Jimin sighed through his nose and rubbed his temple. “Y/N, don’t act like a child, tell me now. What’s all this about?”
“You’re so stupid,” you said with an incredulous laugh. “No woman wants to see the man they love kissing someone else,” you said weakly. 
Jimin could hardly believe what you said. “Y/N... don’t play games with me.”
“I’m not,” you sniffled. “Why would I lie about it now? I thought I was fairly obvious this time.”
His brain could hardly fathom what he was hearing. You? Love him? It was no secret you adored Jimin but for it to be in this manner? His mind was reeling. He needed to see you. “Open the door,” he said firmly. 
“Just go away for the love of-”
“I love you too.”
You froze. Standing then to take hold of the handle to the door. You didn’t know if you could open it or not honestly. With the way your knees were trembling at his words you couldn’t be certain you wouldn’t fall. Call it melodramatic but to finally have the man you’ve loved for over a decade say he loves you.
With those thoughts in your head you whipped the door open to find a very stunned Jimin on the other side. “You better not be lying to me, Park Jimin.”
Jimin seemed almost insulted as you had been earlier. “I’m not lying-mm!”
You couldn’t wait any longer. You pulled him down by the collar of his shirt and brought your lips together. Jimin wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer. He melded his mouth to yours and walked you backwards into your room. He kicked the door shut with his foot and brought his hands to your face as he pulled away.
You tried to kiss him again but Jimin held you in place. “How long?”
Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“How long have you been in love with me?” he asked, brushing your hair back, lips heading for your neck.
“Since we were children,” you breathed, arms winding across his shoulders and upper back. 
Jimin placed gentle kisses along your neck and throat, hands wandering to your lower back. You mewled softly at his proximity and tenderness, but pulled back just a bit. 
“Tell me what happened with Zalia,” you said, pupils blown wide while you panted. 
“She said she was looking for me, I asked what I could do for her but then she kissed me and you opened the door. I swear that’s what happened, Y/N,” he said, eyes pleading.
You sighed and nodded, believing him. Zalia was a child, no doubt she was just trying to get to you by doing this. “I believe you.”
He smiled at you then, kissing you with a firmer pressure than last time. “Will you allow me some liberties tonight?”
You raised a brow at him. “Depends on what kind of liberties you’re asking for.”
Jimin rolled his eyes but you knew it was in jest. “Let me kiss you,” he said, nosing at your pulsepoint while his hands wandered a bit. “Tell me if you don’t like something?” he said, eyes now locked with yours. “You must tell me... I just want to please you.”
Your eyes widened at his blatant suggestion but you nodded anyway. “Yes, all of me is yours,” you said, turning to kiss him once more.
Jimin’s hands found your ass, squeezing it firmly, making you gasp at the rough handling. He took this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth deftly. His kiss was eager yet patient, cradling your head before he moved away for a brief moment. “I must wash myself... would you like to help me?” Jimin asked.
You could feel the heat in your face, desperate that Jimin wouldn’t mention your coy attitude. “Yes, I’ll help you.”
He smiled, leading you towards the vanity that the washing basin was set in. Jimin sat you down in the chair as he approached with purpose. His hands were on his waist coat quickly, undoing the fastenings as he removed his shirts. When his chest was bare you felt your heart start to race. He stood right in front of you, his sleek physique and lithe frame sending your mind into a tailspin.
Jimin took the cloth and water basin and used the cool water to start washing his chest. “Help me?” he asked, bringing your hand to the washcloth. You did as he asked, stunned at what was happening but too aroused to stop. He’d said he loved you. You believed him, because the look in his eyes as he stared at you now was so intense. He wasn’t hiding anything anymore. The care and love for you was prominent in his eyes and it made your heart squeeze as he moved closer to kiss you as you washed his chest with the cool water. Jimin moaned when you ran the chilled cloth over his nipple, the feeling going straight to his groin. 
“Jimin...” you breathed against his lips as he trailed your hand with his over his stomach and daring a swipe beneath the band of his trousers. You gasped when Jimin tossed the cloth away and brought you into his embrace once more. Your bare hand made contact with his chest and he shivered at the touch. His skin was warm and heated to the touch, and he smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. And something else that was just distinctly Jimin. “I thought you needed help bathing?”
His husky chuckled filled the room. “I’ll bathe later, right now I need to touch you... I need you to touch me... You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, capturing your earlobe in his lips as he gently wrapped around you in a way that was so familiar yet new. “Do you trust me?” he asked, looking into your eyes then. 
His were deep and dark and full of warmth and lust. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Always,” you murmured as you brought your lips together again, winding your fingers into his long dark hair. He groaned when you tugged eagerly.
“Hold on to me,” he said. When you tightened your arms around his neck Jimin picked you up, his hands settling on your ass as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He laid you back on the bed, looking at you with all the stars in the night sky encased in his gaze.
“Touch me,” you whispered, reaching for him.
“You’re certain?” he said, voice soft and kind. 
“Yes, I’m positive. Please,” you said.
Jimin didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands slipped beneath your dressing gown to make contact with your bare legs. The feeling of your soft skin had Jimin swallowing thickly. To finally have you here, in bed with him and to want him there. His heart was hammering in his chest. He peeled the dressing gown open and was shocked to see your completely bare body beneath him. His eyes found yours quickly and you gave him a sheepish smile. 
“Fuck...” he groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a brief kiss. He then moved to your jaw as he intertwined your fingers together. He sighed against your collarbone and brought one of his hands to your chest, palms warming your breasts as he trailed his lips further to join his hand.
“Minie...” you breathed softly. “Please, more...”
Your wish was his command, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it gingerly. His hand massaged your other breast and you writhed beneath him with sweet whimpers falling from your puffy lips. Jimin smirked against your chest, if you were whining this much already he couldn’t wait to touch your sweet center.
It was overwhelming and passionate and everything you were hoping it was going to be. This moment with him made your heart race in your ribs as you felt his hands trailing lower. “Still okay?” Jimin asked, looking at you. 
“Yes, I’m okay-keep going,” you whispered. Jimin nodded, his hand finally making it’s way to your core while his mouth stayed on your chest for a while longer. His fingers gently cupped your sex and it sent shivers of bliss down your spine. 
“You’re so wet...” he murmured, blowing cool air on the heated skin of your breast. Jimin licked his lips before shuffling down the bed to get a better look at you. His mind was still reeling at the fact he had you like this. But the longer he looked the more shy you became, hands trying to cover yourself when he placed a tender kiss on your thigh. You squeaked in shock but otherwise watched with big eyes. He adjusted you so your knees hooked on either of his shoulders as he kneeled between your legs.
Your heart was in your throat. Was he really going to do this? Were you really going to do this? There was no doubt in your mind you wanted him, but there was also no return from this course. You knew you’d never get his lips out of your mind just from kissing. What would you do when you discovered how alluring his mouth can be?
“May I?” He asked, features pleading and earnest. “I want to please you...”
With a tentative nod you gave your consent. “Yes...”
Jimin wasted no more time, capturing your lower lips in a hot kiss. You choked out a moan, head falling back as piercing bliss flooded your veins. It was almost overwhelming to have such a sensation. The pleasure curling down your spine and pulsing through you with every rapid beat of your heart.
“A-Ahh~” You cried, voice whiny and soft as Jimin gave heady licks to your center as he gripped your thighs. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you tried to keep yourself from humping his face like a mad woman. But you’d never had pleasure such as this. Your own fingers and pillows had never been this sharp and precise with your arousal and Jimin was determined to make you cream his face. 
“Yes, fuck you taste so good,” he said, moving back for a moment to lick his lips and look into your eyes. Your vision was glassy, eyes lidded and chest heaving from pleasure. Jimin felt his arousal in his trousers, tight and uncomfortable as he tried to adjust himself. You watched with morbid curiosity as his cock inflated. 
You’d read dirty books before, listened in on other conversations from women your age about their husbands. But to experience it, to experience him was something else entirely. Jimin leaned back in for another lick to your center. The feeling was still as arousing as before, if not more so as he eagerly worked you up towards an orgasm.
“J-Jimin!” You whined, voice pitched as your center leaked more and more arousal because of him. Jimin licked it up, placing his puffy lips on your clit and sucking it into his sinful mouth as he introduced a finger into your core. You winced briefly as his fingers were bigger than yours but you quickly relaxed into the new sensation. 
“Yes sweets, that’s a good girl, cum for me,” he breathed. He gently curled his digit inside of you, touching a spot inside that had you writhing for more. His lips formed a soft smile as he pushed one more finger into your entrance. 
“Ah!” you cried, feeling the sensations tumble through you with no warning. You came harshly, Jimin’s sweet yet devilish mouth and tender touches had your body overwhelmed with pleasure. “J-Jimin...”
He licked his lips as he pulled back when your tummy twitched with sensitivity. His cock was throbbing in his pants but he wasn’t going to go any further without your permission. “I should stop... If I don’t stop I will take you before I even properly ask you to be mine...”
You looked at him with wide eyes as he caressed your face in his palm. His expression hadn’t changed. His lust was strong but the love and adoration he had for you was finally revealed and he wouldn’t hide it now. There was no point. He was wholly yours, and you were his. This is what you always knew to be true in your heart, but now? Now you were naked and in the warmth of your bed you found yourself melting against him.
“What about you?” you asked, looking down at his bulge and Jimin chuckled softly.
“I’m fine sweets, really-”
“Jimin,” you said softly, hand splaying across his chest as he looked into your eyes. “I want more of you. C-Can I have all of you?”
His face turned flushed, your bold statement disarming him for a moment. “Are you certain this is what you want? I don’t want to do something like this without you being sure-”
“Jimin,” you said again, hands cradling his face. “All of me belongs to you, my heart, my soul, every inch and every sour mood-it’s all yours, as long as you’re mine too.”
The heat in his belly was way too hot, burning him up from the inside out. Liquid fire coursed through his veins as he laid himself over you again, your naked frame curling around his partially clothed one.
Jimin couldn’t hold off, he kissed you with fervor, his lips and hands hardly able to stay in one spot of your body. “Fuck, I’m so hard baby,” he whispered hot against your skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his jaw as you felt him running his thumb through your lower lips. 
“M-Minie,” you mewled, back arching as he dipped his thumb inside your still soaking wall. “F-Feels good, want you,” you begged. 
He smirked. “Yes baby, anything you want,” he said while thrusting his thick digit inside you a few times. You writhed underneath his ministrations, feeling the heat and dark pleasure swirling in your gut again. 
“More...” you said, reaching forward to grope his bulge gingerly.
Jimin rutted forwards a bit, licking his lips as he looked down at you. The passionate gaze in his eyes caused shocks of electricity to spark through you. He took your lips in another kiss as he dipped both of your hands beneath the band of his trousers. 
“Touch me here, gently like this,” he said, spitting in your palm before curling your fist in his palm around his cock. He moaned erotically as your skin touched his, pressure and warmth filling his stomach with butterflies. 
“Wow... you’re so hard,” you murmured, shocked by the new sensations of being with him. You’d never felt anything like this. His cock was thick and heavy in your palm, a subtle pulse going through your body as you watched Jimin’s face. His brows pinched like it hurt, but his mouth was hanging open slightly as you started to pump him. He shivered at the action, his hand doing less and less as you took over the action. 
Jimin tugged his pants down and off of his frame, only letting you relinquish him for a moment before his hand was guiding you by the wrist back to his aching dick. “M-More,” he moaned, mirroring your desperate pleas early. Unlike the demonic tease that was Park Jimin, you were merciful as you let your hand cover his length again. You brought your hand to the top of his length before swiping your thumb over his tip, making a sweet whine come from his throat. 
You smiled at him as he started thrusting into your fist, the momentum of his hips causing you to rock with the motion.
“Is it good, Minie?” you asked, biting your lip while giving him a nervous expression.
“Yes sweets,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “It’s very good, feels nice to have you touch me...”
“Jimin,” you said, looking into his eyes. “Will... will you put it in now?” you asked.
His eyes widened a touch before filling with lust. “Yes, spread your legs,” he said, moving back a touch. You felt the heat spreading through your cheeks as you did as instructed, spreading your legs to allow him between them. Jimin was patient, his hands rubbing along your legs as he held you by the back of your knees. His lips trailed along your shins, licking and sucking bites into your flesh as he made his way up your frame. The amount of preparation he was giving you made your mind reel. Every part of you would be kissed and mapped out by the end of this night if he kept it up.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you waited. You didn’t know what to expect. You’d read dirty books before and had your fair share of heated nights in your bed alone but, to have someone else’s hands and lips on you... The sensations were ten fold now and you couldn’t help but tremble in anticipation.
You jumped when he rubbed his cock on your wet lower lips. “Easy, Y/N, deep breathe for me,” he said, spitting in his palm to rub on his length. You did as he said, gripping the sheets as you waited for him to finally be inside of you. 
Finally, finally he sunk in slowly. You whimpered at the foreign feeling, but Jimin leaned down to kiss you as he found your clit to ease any pain. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pushed the rest inside of you.
“Jimin!” you cried, the stinging pain of his entry slowly dulling as time went on. A full feeling filling the base of your belly.
“Shhh baby, it’s okay,” he sang softly, kissing you again.
Your heart eased as the sensations became more and more familiar, the fullness turning from aching pain to an odd form of pleasure. 
It was nothing you’d ever felt before. “Okay,” you encouraged, hips wiggling in need. “It’s okay now,” you said, voice soft in the night.
Jimin nodded, giving a few tentative thrusts that took your breath away. “Fuck... so tight, so wet baby,” he breathed, his voice strained. 
“Oh... Jimin,” you said, head tilting back into the sheets as you began the sinful dance of lust and desire. 
Jimin’s hips moved fluidly against yours. Your fingers dug into his upper back, the pleasure wholly overwhelming but not in a bad way. You felt so hot, your skin was burning up as his hands caressed different parts of you. His hands on your ass as he pounded you harshly against the bed, your nails carving hot marks into his skin. But all he could do was smile as you cried out for him. 
“Yeah baby, take me,” he purred, voice sin itself in your ears, setting you aflame in the darkness of the night. His cock was relentless inside of you, hitting all the spots you didn’t know you were so desperate for him.
“P-Please, keep going,” you begged, voice pitched and breathy in his ear. Jimin felt his stomach clench in bliss at your fucked out tone. 
“Turn over,” he told you, pulling from your soaking pussy with a soft hiss.
You nodded eagerly, turning over as Jimin handed you a pillow to rest on. His hands smoothed over your ass before leading his weeping cock back to your center with ease. Once you were comfortable and his cock was nestled deep inside your sweet cunt he started his rhythm up again. 
“M-Minie!” You called, gripping the sheets between your fingers desperately as you tried to hold on to the last inch of your sanity. 
Jimin smirked at your pretty face shoved into the sheets as he pounded your eager core with his thick cock. “Feels good baby?” he asked, tone dark but sweet.
“Yes! Feels so good inside me,” you whined out. The bliss and desire swirled in your belly, an orgasm no doubt coming soon. 
“You’re getting tighter,” Jimin groaned. “Fuck, fuck are you gonna cum?” he huffed, looking down at you with a lust driven gaze. 
You nodded quickly, feeling the cord tightening within you.
“Then you better be a good girl and cum for me sweets,” Jimin purred, resting his chest on your back as he wrapped one arm around your lower stomach and brought his fingers to your aching clit.
You pushed your hips back against his and mewled loudly as Jimin felt your orgasm fall over you. Your body tensed and relaxed quickly, causing you to shudder in bliss as your cunt sucked him harder, then fluttered over his throbbing cock. 
“Give it to me baby, that’s a good girl sweets,” he cooed, kissing your jaw as he slowed his thrusts down to ease the sensitivity you’d feel in a moment. 
“M-Minie...” you hiccuped, eyes teary from the sensations.
Jimin smiled at your sweet face, kissing your head tenderly. “Too much? Need me to stop?” He asked, hips slowing to a stop.
“No-you too, want you to cum too,” you flushed, features bashful but still needy.
Jimin didn’t need more motivation, his hips picking back up into a slower but deeper rhythm, his cock brushed against that one spot. It had you seeing stars and your body jolted in slight sensitivity. But he didn’t stop, and you keened honeyed moans at him, your sweet sounds filling his ears and causing his cock to harden even further inside of you.
“Fuck you feel so good,” he growled out, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “I-I’m close, where do you want it?” he asked, breaths coming in pants as the pleasure swirled and filled his belly.
“Doesn’t matter Minie, I’m yours,” you cried, cunt clenching tight once more. 
“Yes baby, and I’m yours,” he moaned, biting down on your shoulder as he felt himself let go. You gasped at the feeling, not quite enough to bring you to the cusp again, but the whines and grunts from Jimin made you throb all the same.
Without a word Jimin pulled out to turn you over and brought his lips to your swollen and sensitive core once more. You squeaked out in shock but quickly found yourself melting against his soft and hot mouth. 
“Oh Jimin, please,” you moaned.
“One more baby, give me one more,” he said, introducing his fingers into your dripping center. His and your climaxes smeared against your thighs as they trembled from the overstimulation. 
“J-Jimin!” you cried, the pleasured cord snapping within you for the third and final time. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you tried to keep your breathing even. Jimin crawled over top of you, a smile on his glistening lips.
“You’re so beautiful Y/N,” he said, wiping his mouth before leaning down to kiss you. “Fuck I love you...”
“Jimin... I love you too,” you breathed against his lips. 
“Rest here sweets, I’ll get you something to clean up with,” he said, standing and heading towards the linen closet in the corner. You laid there and stared at the ceiling, mind racing with the night's events, your body still in the blissful afterglow of three orgasms with the man you love.
When he returned he did with a cool cloth and sweet lips laid across tender areas of skin. He insisted on cleaning you, chuckling with you as you snuggled under the sheets once you were both clean again.
Jimin wrapped you up in his arms and the warm blankets as you both stared at the night outside the window. You felt small and safe in his embrace, the night and his body coddling you as you started to lull into a slumber.
You both smiled as you fell asleep, hanging onto the other tightly-as neither of you could’ve anticipated what the morning would bring.
--
Jimin and you awoke to banging on the attic door.
“Constable! Miss Y/N! Wake up! Mayor Hart is here to speak with you both, Zalia’s gone missing,” Mrs. Weaver called through the wooden door. 
You and Jimin jolted awake as you both looked bashful at the other when you discovered your states of undress, and memories of the night before swirled in both of your heads. 
Jimin called out first. “Yes, Mrs. Weaver, Y/N and I will be down promptly.”
The pair of you got out of bed, but not before a sweet kiss from Jimin. “We will talk about us soon, yes?” he asked, holding your face in his palms. 
“Yes,” you said, accepting another kiss before getting out of bed and heading towards your changing screen. You noticed Jimin watching your frame walking away and you couldn’t help but feel the flutter in your chest.
You and Jimin dressed quickly, throwing your clothes on in record time, ensuring you both looked presentable before heading towards the steps.
When you got downstairs Mayor Hart stood there with a grim expression. “Constable, Miss Y/N,” he said. “Please help me, my Zalia has gone missing.”
You shared a worried glance with Jimin before looking at the distressed Mayor.
“Where was she last seen?” You asked.
“She ran off into the woods,” Mr. Weaver said. “Last night, she took off into the woods after speaking with the good constable here,” he said with a sneer.
Mayor Hart looked between the innkeeper and Jimin with confusion. “What do you mean? What happened? Why would she run off, Constable?”
“We had a disagreement,” you said. Mr. Weaver scoffed but you pressed on. “But I thought she would’ve gone home, not to the woods.”
“We need to find her,” Mr. Hart exclaimed. “With a mad killer on the loose anything could happen to her!”
“We’ll start a search party,” Jimin said. “Anyone able bodied will go,” he stated firmly.
“I’ll gather Yoongi and Dr. Stewart. Weaver we’ll need horses,” he added.
The innkeeper nodded, heading towards the stables without a word. Mr. Hart took off towards the doctor’s home, leaving you and Jimin alone once more.
A twisting sensation started in your stomach. Something was wrong. Very wrong…
You wrapped your hand around Jimin’s and squeezed, making him look at you with concern.
“What is it?” He asked, voice pitched with worry.
“Something is wrong, Jimin, I can feel it. Something is off,” you whispered, as if the ground beneath you could hear your troubled thoughts if you spoke them too loudly. Your heart was racing, palms turning sweaty at the fear coursing through you. Your eyes rapidly covered the village, and yet there was nothing out of place. 
But you could feel it. Almost as if it were a palpable object you could hold. The icy grip of fear coiled in your belly, causing you to grip Jimin’s hand tighter. 
“Sweets,” he said softly, turning so he was the only thing in your line of sight. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” You were going to start panicking if you kept it up. Your breathing was accelerated like you’d been jogging, he was worried you’d work yourself into a panic attack if you kept going. 
“You can’t feel that?” you asked, dread thick and heavy like a wet blanket over your shoulders. 
“No baby, I don’t,” he said, sympathy crossing his features. 
“Here, a horse,” Mr. Weaver said, leading one steed over to you and Jimin, already saddled up and ready to go. “Shouldn’t be a problem for you to share, hm?” he asked, raising a brow. 
Jimin shifted in discomfort before taking the lead from the innkeep. With that he took the horse and helped you up before climbing up himself. You in front and him holding the reigns in the back. 
Once you and Jimin were settling on the horse you headed towards the edge of the forest where Mr. Hart and now Dr. Stewart plus Min Yoongi.
“Constable, Miss Y/N,” he greeted, raising a hand to you both. Jimin had taken a liking to Yoongi over the day spent exhuming the other victims.
Well, he had taken a liking to pestering him more accurately.
“Hello Yoongi,” Jimin said. “Are you joining the search party?”
He shook his head. “No, I have to do some more examinations for Doctor Stewart. But, if you’re still looking by the time I’m done I will join, Mr. Weaver said he had an extra horse or two.”
Jimin nodded. There were a few more of the local farmers and some villagers that had offered up their assistance. People were going to go in packs of two or three, some on foot others on their own horses. A few people even had dogs they were going to use to hopefully locate the young woman.
Mayor Hart made it to the front of the small crowd and spoke loudly. “We’ll start out by Hollow’s Creek and move our way back towards the village. She could be anywhere, and so could the killer that’s been terrorizing our home. Stick together, do not lose your partner! Make sure you’re back before sundown. Be safe everyone, thank you for helping me locate my daughter,” he said, the pain in his eyes real.
You and Jimin followed Mayor Hart first, heading in after him as the rest of the people knew the layout of the land a little better.
The further into the forest you got, the more and more uneasy you felt. There was something wrong about these woods, there was something wrong about the trees and how they shifted in the wind. You could tell when things were shifted out of balance, energies had a funny way of hiccuping in normal day to day life. How do you explain when you’re having an ‘off-day’, hm?
But here in this forest, the energy, the veil between life and death itself seemed... skewed. Things were running in the corner of your eyes, making you think you’d seen Zalia. After the third or fourth time, Jimin sighed and forced your horse to a stop.
“Y/N, do I need to take you back to the Inn?”
You shook your head. “No, I don’t want you out here alone,” you said, your hand gripping his. “Please...”
Jimin sighed, and nodded. “I’m sorry, it’s been a few hours and yet we have nothing to show for it.”
That’s when you noticed, Mayor Hart had gotten away from the two of you.
“Jimin... where...?” You asked, voice wavering with concern.
He shook his head, looking around in confusion. “But he was just... we... saw him,” he murmured.
“Constable! Miss Y/N! We need to go!”
You and Jimin both turned to see Doctor Stewart heading up towards you on his horse. He was panting and flushed, the horse clearly agitated.
“Doctor Stewart,” you breathed, relief filling you.
“Hurry before-gah!”
You both gasped in shock and fear as he fell from his horse, his head rolling off to the side. His horse bolted, taking off into the forest. However, behind Doctor Stewart’s body was the Horseman...
He was just as he appeared in your dream. His broadsword was large and glistening with fresh blood. It was dripping off the tempered steel in thick rivers of crimson, falling to the ground in heavy drops. The horse was large and dark, a sleek black coat covering it. Deep burgundy eyes gazed at you, as if they were looking directly into your soul. Even as tall as the Horseman and his steed were, you knew he should be taller still. But there was nothing above his shoulders. His neck was cauterized and dark, thick chunks of skin and muscles wrapped around to form the stump his head should sit atop of. And yet, there was nothing there. 
He moved forward, collecting Doctor Stewart’s head.
He takes the head as he searches for his...
“Jimin...” you breathed. “We have to go, we have to go right now, go!”
He didn’t wait any longer, snapping the reins and sending you and the horse hurtling forward through the forest.
You heard the Horseman’s steed paw at the ground a few times before the galloping began. You and Jimin had a head start, but the long strides of the other horse would catch you quickly. There was nothing you could do, and if that damned thing caught up to you it would kill you and Jimin just as quickly as it had Doctor Stewart.
Your horse bolted through the forest, seemingly to know the way back home. However, you were quickly overtaken. Your horse fell after a shot from the Horseman took out one of its legs. You and Jimin fell off the buckling horse, rolling into the dirt and leaves of the damp forest floor. 
The wind was knocked out of you as you fell hard on your side, Jimin was pitched to the opposite side of you, his hand on his head that was now bleeding. 
The Horseman was circling the two of you. You crawled towards him, reaching him to check his head. “Minie,” you whispered, holding his head as his eyes seemed to go in and out of focus. “Look at me, hey,” you said, voice weak and frightened.
“Run baby,” he begged, you could tell he was working on not passing out. “He’ll take me first, run.”
“I’m not leaving you, ever,” you said. “If he takes you then he’ll take me too.”
“No...”
The sound of the steed got closer. You wrapped your arms around him and waited, ready to feel the ice of the steel cut your flesh all over again when-
“Halt.”
The Horseman stopped. The steed was steady, if not disgruntled that the hunt had been, apparently, called off. You and Jimin looked at each other before looking towards the voice.
There stood Mr. Weaver, on a horse with a cloaked figure behind him. “The mistress doesn’t want to lose the Constable,” he said with a firm tone.
You and Jimin both shared worried glances before Mr. Weaver and the cloaked figure got down from the horse. 
Zalia’s head of curly brunette hair cascaded down her shoulders as the emerald green cloak fell around her body. You were stunned. 
“You...”
Zalia smirked softly. “Didn’t think I was capable of it huh? Well, I showed you,” she said with a little proud lift of her head. “This is what real magic is, nothing like those foolish cards you were tampering with.”
Your heart ached at the mention of your cards.
“So you’re the one who destroyed them...”
“Well I couldn’t have you reveal me too soon now could I? My fun was merely just beginning. But now that I’ve got your full attention,” Zalia said with a swing in her hips as she approached. “I’m going to have fun ripping you apart.”
“Your father is-”
SMACK.
Your head was turned fully to the side as Zalia’s strike stung across your cheek. “Don’t mention that fucking worthless man. He’s hardly a father to me. He merely married my mother, and then forced me to watch her die when I had the power to bring her back... I still do.”
Jimin watched in horror as the Horseman stood idly by, as if awaiting his next orders.
“You summoned this?” he asked, looking at her for confirmation.
“You’d be surprised what women can do constable, even with just a little magic,” she said, snapping her fingers and Mr. Weaver’s eyes glimmered green. 
“He’s... What?” Jimin asked. 
“And you too,” she murmured, snapping her fingers again and suddenly-Jimin was moving to stand. 
“Jimin-what are you-ack!” Jimin had stood up, hauling you to your feet as well, but instead of holding you close, his arms locked around your neck. 
“Keep her there constable, I’m going to have some fun,” she sneered. 
You tried to wiggle out of Jimin’s hold but it was no use. He was solid against you, and you had a feeling whatever Zalia did to him, it wasn’t something to be so easily broken.
“Now, Miss Y/N,” she said, stalking back towards Mr. Weaver. “I’m going to take the man you love and make him mine. I’m going to have him wring your pretty little neck and then when he realizes what he’s done, I’ll have the horseman chase him through the forest. Then his lovely head will become the final piece of my puzzle.”
You swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in your throat. “Why Zalia, for what reason are you doing this?”
“Because I can,” she whispered spitefully. “You must know it too, Miss Y/N. The looks men give us. They think we’re so fragile and pitiful. They think we must be protected, that we have no power. That useless Mayor let my mother die. But I’m going to set it right, with enough head’s the Horseman will grant me power unlike anything I’ve ever known before,” she chuckled. “And when that happens I will bring my mother back.”
“What are you talking about, what is the Horseman going to do? He’s a servant to you isn’t he?”
Zalia merely laughed. “You think that’s all he is? He is a powerful being beyond your comprehension. He has magic of his own, and once that is unleashed, we will be unstoppable.”
You couldn’t fathom how far this young woman had fallen. She was deranged. So upset and hurt over the loss of her mother she’d gone on a killing spree, summoning a demonic creature of the night to do her bidding. You did feel for her, losing a parent isn’t easy, but to turn to this?
“How did you even do this?” You found yourself asking.
“I found his head,” she said with a smirk. “Finders keepers as the saying goes.”
“You truly think there won’t be any repercussions for this?”
Zalia shook her head as she giggled. “There hasn’t been any yet.”
“Perhaps not,” you sighed. “I’m sorry baby,” you whispered, jamming your elbow into Jimin’s lower stomach quickly. He coughed in surprise and immediately let go to hold himself as he doubled over. 
Mr. Weaver was moving towards you quickly but you managed to dodge his fumbling attacks. You were gunning for Zalia when a sharp pain spread across your scalp. Someone grabbed your hair. You turned your gaze and saw the Horseman’s hand stretched out and grasping onto your head. 
Zalia laughed harder. “You’re such a pathetic whelp, thinking that old trick would be enough to fool me.”
With a firm tug the Horseman had you on your knees. You looked at Jimin who was recovering from your blow, his eyes were still that sickly color of green. If only you could get to him somehow. Snap him out of this stupor. 
“However, Miss Y/N, I find you’re more trouble than you’re worth. This has all gotten rather boring for me. I still have a mayor to find and kill... Horseman,” she said. The grip on your scalp tightened. “Her head is yours.”
You desperately tried to get away, but it was no use. The hold on you was much tighter than Jimin’s and as you looked to the side you saw him standing there, expression blank. 
“I love you,” you breathed. “I’ve always loved you and I always will.”
You couldn’t help the tears now. 
At least you’d gotten to show him how much you truly love him. Last night seemed like such a distant memory now but as you stared into his eyes you thought for a moment the green flickered. 
“Touching,” Zalia said with a monotone voice. “Horseman, hurry up.”
“Please don’t look, I don’t want you to see this,” you begged.
You saw a tear rolling down Jimin’s face as he seemed to try desperately to move. To get to you, but his body was frozen in its spot as he was forced to watch the woman he loved be beheaded. The green flickered again.
The sword was high in the air, it was about to come down and slice through your neck. You kept your eyes open, trained on Jimin until the last second when you heard the steel weapon whistling through the air. But before you could feel the sharp blade of death, you were tackled out of the way.
Mayor Hart was panting heavily on top of you. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. He stood quickly, helping you to your feet when he bellowed loudly. “Zalia Marie Hart what in God’s name have you done?!”
The shock of the moment knocked her concentration, freeing Jimin from her grasp, but not Mr. Weaver. Jimin’s eyes cleared and the tears appeared when he saw you standing there. He jogged over to you and quickly wrapped you up in his arms. 
“Fuck... Fuck Y/N,” he said, pulling you in and cradling your head.
“I’ve only shown you a fraction of what I can do, and when I bring my mother back-”
“Zalia please,” Mr. Hart begged, voice strained with anguish. “Enough of this, come home darling... I miss your mother with every breath, I don’t want to lose you too.”
The young woman scoffed. “I’m not your daughter,” she growled, face growing more and more twisted and angry.
The older man looked like he’d been stabbed. The pain was evident on his face. “I may not be your birth father, but I raised you! I took care of you, I-I treated you as my own.”
“And I hate you for it,” she sneered.
Mr. Hart was gutted. “I stand by what I did, your mother would’ve never wanted you to turn into this.”
Zalia’s face turned dark, fury and spite filled her gaze. “You will pay for what you’ve done to me and my mother.”
“I cared for you! Both of you!”
“You let her die! I could’ve saved her, I still can... Once he has enough heads, he’ll give me some of his power. I will be unstoppable, I could bring back my mother. Your wife!”
Mayor Hart shook his head. “No sweet girl, no one should come back from the dead like that. Imagine what she would say, how many have you ordered to be killed?”
“I’m adding you to the tally, Horseman,” Zalia said. “Kill Douglas Hart.”
The Horseman locked onto her father. The horse pawed at the ground. Mayor Hart jumped onto his horse and took off through the forest at breakneck speed. The Horseman gave chase shortly after.
Jimin saw his opportunity.
With the Horseman distracted, he could move. With a frightening amount of strength, Jimin tackled Mr. Weaver. He wrestled him to the ground and started swinging. If he could get him subdued to a point where he wasn’t an issue, then taking down Zalia wouldn’t be as difficult.
You weren’t one to sit idly by either, so when you saw Jimin haul the older man to the ground you decided to take a similar course of action with the bitch herself. 
“Zalia,” you growled. Her eyes widened in shock at her own shortcoming. With the speed of a viper you took her down. You had her pinned to the ground shortly after, but she wasn’t giving up without a fight. She grabbed your hair and pulled, causing you to yelp in pain but you slapped her across the face to get her to let go. You currently had the upper hand, sitting on her waist as you pummeled her. 
After a few moments of fighting you heard the Horseman’s steed come to a halt. 
Mayor Hart was dead.
You had to figure out how to get the damned thing to stop. 
His head.
She said she had his head. Did she have it on her? Or was it hidden somewhere that you’d have to find-
In the burrows of her cloak you found it, attached to a chain was a small-shrunken head. You wanted to gag at the sight of it, but you grabbed it from the chain. Zalia was livid, thrashing around like a child so much that she flung you from her body, sending the head flying through the air.
“Weaver! The head!” Zalia cried. 
Mr. Weaver struggled against Jimin for a moment longer, before finally breaking free. Jimin scrambled after him, grabbing his ankle and slowing him down for a moment. But he was crafty, kicking him in the shoulder he’d fallen on. Jimin cried out, his shoulder no doubt on fire as the man tried to kick his way free.
You stood up and tried to run for it when the sound of hooves stopped you in your tracks.
You saw the Horseman, barreling towards you with a speed you hadn’t anticipated. Jimin yelled for you to move, Zalia was scrambling to find the head when everything stopped.
With a shaky hand you held out the head to the Horseman.
He was very still, the horse hardly making any movements. 
You were panting hard, nose bleeding as you tried to stay on your feet. You wanted to go home, you missed Martin and the page boys, you missed the bakery sweets down the road from your house and most of all? You missed the quiet mornings with Jimin as you both sipped on your coffees.
You wanted more mornings like that. 
The creature reached forward, taking the head from you in its grasp. 
“What have you done!” Zalia screamed. “My mother! You bitch I’ll kill you!”
Just as you were about to ready yourself to fight again the Horseman’s steed whinnied and stood on its hind legs. Jimin grabbed your arm and tugged you close to him once more as Mr. Weaver fell to the ground in a heap. The Horseman moved quickly, collecting Mr. Weaver and throwing him on the back of the horse. 
Zalia started to run, racing through the woods as fast as her feet could carry her. But unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done now. The Horseman gained on her quickly, grabbing her by the scruff of her hair. As she started to scream, the Horseman grabbed her and put her on the front of the horse. You were worried he’d turn back around, come for you and Jimin next but it never happened. 
The Horseman took off into the woods.
And that was the last you ever saw of him or Zalia and Mr. Weaver.
You turned to Jimin, who looked a little worse for wear, but he smiled at you all the same as he brought you in for a tight hug. “Fuck... I thought we were done for, but of course you came through. You always do...”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, Jimin,” you said, eyes sparkling as the sun started to fade in the sky. He caressed your cheek and placed a sweet kiss on your head.
“Come on, if we hurry we can find that horse and head back to town before it gets too dark.”
Jimin held out his hand and you took it, intertwining your fingers as you walked into the twilight, hopeful of what the morning would bring.
--
You sipped your coffee at the dining room table with your cards laid out in front of you. When you’d returned home from Sleepy Hollow one of the first things Jimin gifted you was a new set of tarot cards. You smiled as the Empress showed herself to you as well as the High Priestess. Both significators for you, life was good.
“My love!” Jimin called from downstairs, heading towards the steps and taking them two at a time.
“Yes Minie? What is it?” You asked, heading towards the door. 
“Look at today’s headline,” he huffed, walking through the door with a paper in hand. 
“Did you give Martin the-”
“Yes darling, but look!” 
You smiled softly before doing as he asked and looking at the paper. 
Sergeant Kim Namjoon Promoted to Captain after Sleepy Hollow Debacle.
Your lips pursed at the mention of the Sergeant now turned Captain. “Why do I care if he’s promoted or not? He didn’t even thank us! We almost lost our lives and-”
“Look closer baby,” Jimin said. 
You did look closer and you couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that peeled from you at the sight. There in the font was a quote.
Without the help of Constable Park Jimin and his incredible assistant Miss Y/N, the NYPD would’ve been helpless in this case. My thanks go to them for their tireless efforts to help the people of Sleepy Hollow when the NYPD could not.
“How on Earth did you get him to say that!?” You cried, laughter and joy pouring from you.
“I wasn’t particularly happy that he sent us there either my darling, and I have a few connections to the newspapers. Jungkook owed me a favor, and got a small edit to the quote added in.”
You snorted and rolled your eyes, but smiled all the same. Jimin was just as petty as you, if not more so. “Well that certainly made my morning,” you said.
“I had a feeling it would make you laugh,” Jimin said, coming closer to place a small kiss on your lips. He noticed your cards on the table and looked back at you. “Anything good happening here?”
“Always,” you said, pulling back in for another kiss. Jimin brought you into his embrace and started walking you back towards your room. You squeaked in surprise but let him lead you regardless. “What about breakfast?”
“It can wait, I cannot,” he said with another deep kiss.
He had a small box in his pocket and a very important question he wanted to ask you more than he wanted breakfast anyways.
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theladybarnes · 7 months ago
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CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER EIGHT
“I told you, I'm fine. Okay? I mean, as fine as someone who's hurtling towards a gruesome death can be.”
▸ summary: the group splits off again and a breaking theory comes your way ▸ characters: steve harrington, dustin henderson, max mayfield, robin buckley, nancy wheeler, & lucas sinclair ▸ word count: 12.7k ▸ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of death, slight canon divergence, & trauma ▸ series masterlist
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“It was here..right here!”
 “A grandfather clock?”
 “It was so real.” 
 You watched carefully from the back of the group as Max explained what happened once she had snapped out of her brief frozen state. Time had not ran out and it was only a few seconds into your panicking that she gasped before you guys, waking up.
 “..And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just..I woke up.”
 “It was like she was in a trance or something.” Dustin chimed in, looking over to the rest of you. “Exactly what you and Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”
 You met his gaze with a small nod, unsure what to think next. Chrissy never woke up to the sound of you and Eddie calling out to her. And while Max didn’t either, she still snapped out of it. 
 Turning around to the group, Max couldn’t help but dive into more information. “That’s not even the bad part.” she started before she led all of you back to Ms.Kelley’s office. Surrounding the stack of files, she shared a couple between Robin and Nancy, setting up the base of what you guys gathered.
 “Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms.Kelley for help..they both were having headaches, bad headaches that just wouldn’t go away. And then..then the nightmares..trouble sleeping. They’d wake up in a cold sweat. Then they started seeing things..bad things..from their pasts. In these visions, they just, they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually..everything ended.”
 “Vecna’s curse.” Robin clarified. 
 Curse. You thought. 
 Stomach churning at the idea of not only yourself being cursed, but Max too. How could she be hit with any more hardship than she already has? Even as she had explained everything as perfectly as she could, there was still a heavy terror in her voice. One that hit you harder than you expected. 
 But what could you do? How could you be of any help when you were going through the same afflictions that her and the others have? The only difference in the patterns were the visions. Instead, you were tormented by a voice. A dreadful voice that seemed to know all your insecurities and dump them into your mind at the worst times.
 You glanced around at your friends, their faces etched with sad, sombering looks as they listened to what Max had to say. 
 “There’s still time to figure things out,” you said, speaking up finally. “No one is giving up just yet.”
 Max slowly shook her head. Her bright eyes still lingered with a few unshed tears as she tried to reason with you. 
 “Chrissy’s headache started a week ago, Fred’s, six days ago. I’ve been having them for five days.” 
 Your heart dropped at that, unsure what you could even say to help make things better for her. But to your dismay, she went on. Even through her own body betraying her regular strength, she couldn’t help but crumble at her conclusion.
 “I don’t know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamn clock!..So..” her breath was shaky as she stepped towards the desk. Gripping at the chair while she looked at everyone. “..it looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.”
 There’s a loud clang in the distance. Causing the group to jump a bit and pause the conversation. Steve doesn’t hesitate to step up, turning to the others with a frown on his face. “Stay here.” he ordered calmly, and turned to leave the room. But not without grabbing a nearby lamp to use as a weapon. 
 It took only a couple of seconds of him leaving the room before you quietly muttered to the others. “Yeah, screw that.” 
 Trailing after him, you made sure to check the hall behind you guys before following in close after him. Without having to look back, you could hear as the others quietly did the same. Sticking close behind Steve as well as he ventured out to the source of the noise.
 Steve barely glanced over his shoulder and noticed you all before he sighed disappointedly. “You gotta be kidding me.” he muttered to you.
 “Like you aren’t used to us not listening.” you whispered back. “Besides, you’re using a damn lamp. It’s not like you’re ready to fight either.”
 “It’s the best thing I got!” he hissed, trying to keep quiet. The sound of clattering stirred up again, shutting you both up.
 In the distance you could hear the sound of feet running begin to pick up, creating an anxious chill to run down your back.
 All around the rest of the group grew tense, waiting behind to see what would be coming into the view. Steve raised up the lamp, ready to take his aim on the target when suddenly a familiar face jumped into the hall.
Steve and Lucas began to yell once coming to head with each other, causing everyone to let out a panicked cry as they staggered back. 
 “IT’S ME!” Lucas cried out, holding his hands out before him defensively. 
 “Lucas?!” Nancy called out, flashing another light on his face.
 “It’s me!” he cried again.
 “JESUS, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU SINCLAIR?” Steve yelled, looking flushed as the panic came over him.
 “I’m sorry!”
 “I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!” he chided dramatically. You reached over for his arm and pulled him away from Lucas to rest back and give the kid some obvious air since he was panting particularly hard. 
 “Easy there, he-man.” you patted his arm, earning yourself an annoyed look from him. 
 “I’m sorry, guys, sorry! I was..I was biking for eight miles.” he held up a finger, holding onto the front of his gut. “Give me a second, shit.” he said before remembering what he really wanted to say. “We’ve got a code red!”
 “What?” Steve asked, confused all over again. 
 “Dustin,” He said as he staggered over to your cousin, still panting as he laid out more crap for the group to worry about now. “I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone like totally off the rails! They’re trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger!”
 Dustin, while taken back by this, still can’t help but keep the main problem at focus. “All right, Yeah, that definitely sucks.” he agreed. “But we’ve got bigger problems than Jason right now.” 
 You could only watch as Lucas slowly glanced over at Max. The two locked eyes and you could just see the pain in Max’s face. Without even realizing it, you’ve instinctively reached out for Steve’s hand. And thankfully, he doesn’t say anything but squeeze back.
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  “We wouldn’t be able to access the program for it here. The family computer isn’t exactly gonna cut it.” sighed Nancy, downing the rest of her water. “Besides, I’m not even sure how to write up the kind of files we’d need to pass as real.”
 “There’s always a chance the library could have some examples.” you threw out, leaning against the counter to look at the two girls. “If we head there early enough, we could be the first ones in, type it out, and get it done by early morning.”
 “We can try that, but there’s always a chance it might not work. Hawkins doesn’t really have the newest resources. Even today we had to dig pretty deep to find the newspaper headlines.” Robin countered, crossing her arms as she stood beside you.
 The three of you had been in the kitchen for a good few minutes discussing what you guys could do.
 After leaving the school, it was pretty easy to just collect everyone and keep watch of each other in the safety of the Wheeler basement. Especially with Max’s countdown recently coming into light to hang over the rest of you. 
 “Well,” Nancy piped up, “there was a rumor I heard at school..” You and Robin shared a confused look before nodding at her to continue. 
 “Jordan Wallis. He’s in the A.V. Club. They said his older brother Nick used to help create fake IDs and permits for a certain price..”
 “Wasn’t his brother also sent to a Military school for getting caught?” Robin asked, looking a little skeptical.
 “He was.” she nodded, scrunching her nose at the fact. “But, I’ve heard that Jordan and a few of his buddies have taken on the family business. They might know a thing or two about forging documents. Some of them are in the newspaper so I might have a way in if we need to talk to him.” 
 The three of you mulled it over for a minute. Contemplating how much this idea could work. 
 Nancy let out a long sigh, sounding tired as she set down the cup in the kitchen sink. “It’s a long shot in the dark, but–”
 “It’s the best we got.” you finished for her, watching as she nodded her head. “I say we do it.”
 Robin silently agreed with a shrug, looking over to Nancy.  “Do you think you can reach them in time tonight?” she asked, scratching nervously at her cheek. “We’d have to leave first thing in the morning.”
 She turned her watch over, noting the time before she offered a tight lip smile. “It’s not too late. I can make a couple of calls.”
 “Then let’s get to it.”
 Robin left the two of you to join the others downstairs, possibly giving Steve some sort of relief from ‘babysitting’ while you and Nancy ventured up her stairs. It was easier to conceal the type of phone calls you guys were making from her parents in the privacy of the room. And after about ten minutes, three different conversations, and one sweet minute of pleading, there was a plan made to get the files. 
 You waited until everything was set and ready for the next day to ask Nancy if you could use her phone for a moment alone. She seemed a little worried, but gave a small smile and quietly left the room.
 Reaching for her phone, you stared down at the receiver, wondering what was suddenly coming over you as you pressed in the familiar number. A glance at your watch and you were thankful for once for the time difference. 
 “The number you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try again at a later time.”
 Frowning, you tried dialing it again. 
 “The number you are trying to reach is un–”
 Ending the call, you tried to figure out just what could be holding the line. Since reaching Jonathan seemed out of play, you dialed the next person you needed to speak to. 
 It only took one ring for her to pick it up.
 “Hello?”
 “Mom?” 
 “Oh, Duckie!”  your mother gasped. “I was hoping I’d hear from you soon!”
 The sudden joy in your Mother’s voice brought a blooming happiness over you. It had been a couple of weeks since you had the chance to properly speak with her, and hearing her chirpy tone now felt like just what you needed.
 “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for so long..”
 “I would wait forever if it meant to get a call from you.” she cooed teasingly. “How are you, Duckie? Are you guys finally on Spring Break?”
 “Yeah, just started on Friday. Are you and Dad at the beach house?”
 “Yes! We just arrived the other night. We’re definitely missing you here. The Johnsons brought their little Dune Buggy that you liked to ride on the shore line.”
 The memories of spending breaks over at the seaside home came flooding in. If you were living there now you’d find yourself spending the evening with your parents getting ready for a lush dinner. Not currently dwelling over what you were going to do to save a friend from the fate that you might very much fall into as well. 
 “Duckie?”
 “Sorry,” you coughed, feeling your throat tighten up from your thoughts. “I’m just out of it today. Kinda tired.” 
 “Well it’s a good thing you’re on break! You’ll get to go out with your friends, have fun date nights with Steve–By the way! How is he? It’s been so long since you’ve told us about you guys. We’ve got that picture of you two from his graduation in the drawing room. It’s too cute!”
 Instantly you’re covering your face up. Not sure how you could even dive into explaining everything that was going on with Steve. Especially when right at this moment, you’re pretty sure you’re the last person whom he’d want talking about how well he is. 
 “Oh, uh, Steve’s fine.” you stuttered a bit. “He’s just been working really hard.”
 “Hopefully not too hard. I know how much you two are in love~ Must be going crazy with seeing each other all the time..” she teased, nearly making you groan out in pain. 
 “Yeah, we’re..inseparable.” Balling your hand up in a fist, you lightly punched at your thigh, trying to keep it together. "How are you and Dad doing?"
 "We're doing just fine," she sighed, her answer comforting you a little. "Your father's been trying to cut back hours in the firm, he wants to get some vacation time.. I’ve just finished designing a showroom for Margaret Chandler. She’s redone her whole home since her daughter graduated. But, mostly, we miss you. It's not the same without you around."
 You swallowed hard, trying to push down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you at the endearing words you’ve been needing to hear lately. "I miss you too, Mom. It’s kind of late here..um, I’ll try to call again soon, okay?”
 “Okay, Duckie. Don’t wait too long this time. I wanna hear all that you’re up to, okay?”
 “Yeah.” you managed to choke out. “I love you..so much.”
 She let out a light laugh, possibly thinking you’re in a loving mood tonight. “I love you too! Talk to you soon.”
 You waited until the line disconnected before slowly putting the phone back down. The silence of the room suddenly became so overwhelming.
 Covering your face, you tried to control your breathing, reminding yourself to calm down before you went and join the others. But the tears still welled up in your eyes and your vision blurred. 
 Would that be your last conversation with your Mother? Should you attempt to reach Jonathan again? What protocols would one have to follow when dealing with a curse?
 There was a dip on the bed next to you and suddenly you were being engulfed into a pair of arms. They were so warm, so familiar, you don’t even have to open your eyes as you pushed your way into his chest. 
 “It’s okay,” Steve whispered as his hands rubbed at your back. “You’re okay.”
 You don’t cry as much as you’d like to. Not when you knew you had to be around the others in just a few moments. But you allow the escape of Steve’s hug to give you a few moments of peace until you were pulling back.
 “I’m sorry.” you sniffled. “I just..I just...”
 The words died right off your tongue and you watched as he merely brought a hand up. Rubbing the pad of his thumb across the tears that stained your cheeks. His warm eyes looked over your face as he slowly shook his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself, baby. I just wanna be here for you.”
 His words nearly made you break down all over again and you can’t help but push your face back into his chest once more. Resting against his pecs while listening to the sounds of his comforting heartbeat. He placed his head gently on top of yours, simply holding you close while you took the chance to calm down. 
 The interaction between the two of you was very much the opposite of what you guys had just a couple of hours ago. When you both tried ways to jab at each other. But to your dismay, like all other fights, Steve would always come to comfort you when you felt you least deserved it. 
 “Hey do you think you guys can go–”
 The sudden voice of Robin booming into the doorway caused you both to pull back from each other. Her blue eyes went wide at the sight of you two before slowly turning into a small grin. “Am I interrupting anything?” she asked teasingly, until she noticed the leftover tears in your eyes. “Shit, am I?”
 “Robin,” Steve sighed, letting go of you so he could get up from the bed. He stepped towards the door and closed it enough that it was only him that Robin could see. Giving you the chance to fix yourself up. “What were you gonna ask us?” 
 “Sorry,” she chuckled nervously. “Do you think you guys could maybe get us some pizza? We’re all kinda starved and don’t wanna bother Mrs. Wheeler or anything.”
 “Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good thing right now..” Steve said, most likely thinking you needed a minute. But the idea of stepping out for a moment sounded a lot more pleasing when you really thought it over. “Maybe we could just-”
 “We can go get it.” you said softly. 
 The two peeked turned at your voice, watching as you got off the bed, wiped your cheeks and made your way to the door. You reached around Steve to open it up again, allowing Robin to get a better look of you again. 
 “Are you sure?” she asked, moving to place a hand on your shoulder. “If you guys need a second it’ll be fine. I can try and heat us some frozen waffles or something.”
 “It’s fine, Robs.” you reassured her, attempting to shoot her a small smile. “We can go.” Turning to glance at Steve, you give him a hopeful look. “If you’re up for it?”
 His eyes were skeptical as he took in your question. Most likely because he probably didn’t believe your sudden change in demeanor from moments ago on the bed. But to your surprise, he’s not against it and slowly nodded his head. “Let’s go.”
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 As Steve drove down the winding path toward town, the tension in the car was slightly nerve wracking. 
 Quietly you sat beside him, trying to keep your composure together. Not wanting to go back to how you were not five minutes ago in Nancy’s room. But there’s no denying what was bound to happen. The moment Steve came into the room and overheard you, you knew what he was going to ask. If not now, then eventually.
 The problem was, were you willing to tell him the truth?
 From just a glance you could see as his eyes focused on the road ahead. Jaw clenched and lips pursed in a tight line. He was most likely running ideas about how to approach this with you. Not that you had any clue on how he could. It made the guilt return back quickly. 
 The whole fight earlier felt petty now.
 Max was now closer to falling into Vecna’s curse, and there was a possibility that you might be next. How could you even care about stupid things like exes and kisses? Not that he was aware of the severity. All he knew was that his ex girlfriend was acting out of normal for a couple of weeks now. But in reality, you were far into this web of problems that you weren’t sure you had it in you to trap him in it with you. 
 How could you drag him in when you weren’t sure how to get out?
 Carefully, he veered off the main road into the quiet woods, just outside of the main parts of town. You could feel your heartbeat quicken. How many times could you lie to Steve and tell him you were okay? Would he easily see through your lie again and call out the bullshit? There was no way he could attempt to unravel the myriad of problems surrounding you. 
 But like always, despite all your best efforts to push him away, he just came back with a force.
 The car came to a slow stop and he turned off the engine. Cutting off the only noise left between the two of you. Outside the chilly spring night brought a blue hue over the woods. It was the same way it looked the other night when you were left to find your way back home. 
 You must have been shivering at the memory because suddenly Steve was slipping off his jacket and placing it over you. His eyes stayed focused on making sure you were covered up before he leaned back in his seat with a sigh. The smell of his cologne still lingered over his jacket and you can’t help but allow the heat of the fabric to comfort you briefly, giving you a small relief before you cleared your throat to speak up finally. 
 “So,” you said lamely, pointing out towards the field. “Chilly night isn’t it?”
 He stared quietly, raising a brow at you like he was expecting some sort of breakdown.
 “I, for one, think that it is too cold for Spring. Back home, Spring nights felt crisp but still nice enough for a walk.”
 "So you’re just gonna act like what happened in Nancy’s room didn’t happen?" he frowned, his voice laced with worry.
 You shook your head, trying not to dive into that as you plastered on a smile, hoping it would be enough to deflect his concern. "Nothing happened. That was just me being homesick.."
 “Homesick? You’re kidding me..” 
 “It’s the truth! I haven’t been away from home in so long. It’s complicated. Not to mention, it’s been a long day and I’m a little tired.” 
 He scoffed lightly, his hand reaching out to grip onto the wheel tightly. "Bullshit, Trouble. You look like you haven't slept in days, you’re crying after a phone call home, you were just in an accident the same night you saw a girl die from some curse. When are you going to finally be honest with me, here?”
 “I’m fine.” you replied, voice a little too forced. "Just... worried about Max too, you know? With everything that's been happening. It’s a lot.”
 Steve's brow furrowed, his gaze lingering for a moment too long. He could always see right through you. Always sensing when something was off. It was both a blessing and a curse, especially now when you were desperately trying to keep your own secret buried.
 "Look, we’re all worried, but I know there’s more. You're not just worried about Max, are you?" His voice was soft, though laced with a hint of hurt. 
 You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as you tried to ignore the guilt coming back in your stomach again. "What do you mean?"
 "It’s him too?" has asked carefully, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re worried about Eddie too. I mean..that kiss..”
 “Well, I am worried he might get attacked by a mob of evangelicals. But that kiss, it was just..it was nothing.” you said quickly, “He does it all the time. It’s more so to annoy me than to mean anything else.”
 “That’s not what it looked like to me.” he mumbled, glancing out the window. 
 A lump formed in your throat. Trying to push out any sort of excuse that could ease him of the hurt he had over what transpired earlier. All this time, Eddie was the only thing that helped distract you from Steve. He didn’t care about making anything deep, and neither did you. It was perfect. 
 But now Steve was here, and he was trying to help you, and all you could think was to apologize for making things worse.
 "I'm sorry, Steve," you whispered, reaching out to gently place a hand on his arm. "I want to say that it’s nothing, because it is nothing to me. I’m not even thinking about that. Right now I just want to work on making sure Max is okay."
 “There’s more you’re not telling me.” 
 “I‘ve said all that I need to say—“
 "No, nope. I’m not letting you avoid this," Steve said firmly, turning to face his body towards you. "We don’t lie to each other, okay? Even when you’re mad you always eventually tell me what’s wrong. But now? You’re just..” 
 “I’m just trying to keep focus, Steve.” 
 He quickly shook his head, frowning now. “You can't keep shutting me out, pretending like everything's okay when it's clearly not. I'm not going to stand by and watch you keep whatever it is that’s eating you up inside! I’ve made that mistake before and I won’t do it again.”
 You wanted to protest, to tell him it wasn’t anything he should be concerned over, but the words caught in your throat. How else could you fail in keeping him safe when even keeping him out of the loop caused him to feel this hurt?
 But before you could think of anything to say to him, his voice softened, his eyes searching yours as if the answers were right there. "I just want to help you, honey..I lo— I care about you, And it's killing me to see you like this. I made a promise to you a long time ago and all I do is keep breaking it.”
 “Promise?” you whispered, leaning in close to him. “What promise?”
 He reached out to cup the side of your face. Warming your cheek with the palm of his hand as he came in to rest his forehead against yours. “Last summer. Back in my room, I said no one was ever going to hurt you again. Because no one was going to look out for you better than me.” he whispered back. You stayed quiet, trying to take in those words again. Steve nervously licked over his lips, scared to push the limit of the conversation. “Do you remember why?” 
 The memory hit you instantly. The way you two looked over each other, trying to make sense of all the pain and suffering you both endured after Billy and being captured by the Russians. You never wanted to see Steve hurt again. You still don’t. His words, however, came back to your mind and you found your eyes slightly prickling with tears.
 “..because I’m your girl.” 
 “That’s right.” he sighed, “You’re my girl..”
 Without saying anything, he pulled you into his arms. Holding you so tightly, as if his arms could shield you from the world and all the doom that wanted to make its way in. And truthfully, in that moment, it really felt like they could. 
 “Can we just..forget about everything? Just for right now?” you asked, keeping your face pressed into his chest. “I don’t want to talk or think about breakups, exes, fighting, or curses. I just..want this right now. Just us.”
 “Yeah,” he agreed, pulling back so he could hold your face in his hands. “We can do that.” 
 There’s a little disappointment in his eyes. Probably from the lack of progress in the conversation. But you’re grateful for the pause. Needing to be selfish just once more with Steve, and focus on the kindness and sincerity of his words that made the ache in your chest lighter.
 “Can you say it again?” you asked, leaning close to his face. The faint brush of his breath flushed over your skin and you reached out to place a hand over his chest. Basking in his closeness to you. 
 A small, pleased sort of smile, pulled at his lips as he nodded his head slowly. He reached out to push a hair away from your face before he finally spoke again. 
 “You’re my girl.” A kiss to your forehead.
 “You’re my girl.” A kiss to your cheek. 
 He took his time leaning down, only brushing his lips briefly over yours, affectionately. “My girl.” he breathed before he sealed the moment with one last kiss.
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  The night thankfully didn’t result in more crying. After the two of you allowed yourselves just a little bit of time to just forget everything, you remembered that you had a whole group of people to feed. Some who were kind enough not to point out how long it took for you guys to receive the food. 
 Eventually the full bellies led for some to go in and out of falling asleep. You took the chance of having a quieter basement go over everything. Sleep, as much as it called to you, did not sound like a good idea. Not when every night now it’s led to another nightmare. 
 You managed to keep yourself busy, going over all the files again as well as taking in the new information about this Victor Creel guy. Now and then you’d peek over and watch Max over at the desk. She had grown quiet after eating, only asking Nancy for a pen, paper, and envelopes before settling into the back of the room. 
 It was hard not to want to pester her with worrisome questions. You knew better than to poke her with that kind of approach. But it didn’t help ease you at all. Not when you knew she was probably scared out of her mind. 
 Eventually the night passed and it wasn’t until morning came that Nancy and Robin left to go try and reach one of the boys who Nancy had called the night before. You offered to join them but they pressed for you to stay back when they noticed your tiredness. It was decided you’d stay back and attempt a bit of a nap. 
 After a brief hour or two spent up in Nancy’s quiet room, you made your way down to the basement again after downing two pain relief pills. The dreaded headache only turned worse after the reveal of symptoms. But now you were up again and seeking out the company of the others. 
 You had just sat down beside Dustin, relaxing against the cushion when the other two boys decided to venture into the small pile of information left for them to read over again. It wasn’t until Steve’s grumbling that you peeked an eye open to look over at them.
 “Okay, be honest. Uh, you guys understand any of this?”
 “No.” Lucas sighed defeatedly. 
 “Pretty straightforward.”
 “Pretty much all of it.”
 You and Dustin looked over at each other approvingly before casting a glance over at Steve who was frowning over at the two of you now.
 “Oh, straightforward, really?” Steve asked, perplexed, eyes shifting between the two of you. 
 “Well, what’s confusing to you?” Dustin sighed, tiredly. “So far, everyone Vecna cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him.” 
 “Exactly,” you chimed in. “Which is why he’s our best lead on this.”
 “Yeah, that’s assuming he was cursed, Hendersons, which we don’t even know.” Steve muttered, a hard frown on his face. “God, How can Vecna have existed in the fifties? It doesn’t make sense.”
 “As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down. She opened a gate to it.”
 “Jonathan and I asked Will about this before, he mentioned that the Upside Down looked sort of out of time. Like everything was aged. But that was only from the area surrounding his house, not sure about the whole town..” you said, trying to remember if Nancy had ever mentioned anything. Dustin seemed to agree with your direction, snapping a finger at you. 
 “The Upside Down has probably been around for thousands of years. Millions. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs.”
 Steve couldn’t help but grow even more frustrated at that. Waving his arms over in a crossing motion. “Dinosaurs? What are we–”  
 “Okay! Okay!” Lucas intervened. “But if a gate didn’t exist in the fifties, how did Vecna get through?”
 “Oh! And how’s he getting through now?” Steve threw in, pointing to Lucas. 
 “And why now?”
 “And why then? Just pops out in the fifties, kills one family, and he's like, ‘Yeah, I’m good!’ and poof, he just disappears. Just..gone?” You watched carefully as Steve put together his own idea, waving his fingers in the air dramatically. “Then only to return thirty years later and start killing some random teens? No, I don’t buy it.” 
 He glared down at the newspaper again before starting up again. “Straight forward my ass.” he mumbled, turning to go over to his seat. “You know what? Honestly, Hendersons, a little humility now and then, it wouldn’t hurt you guys.”
 Dustin is quick to apologize. Muttering out a ‘sorry’ while he allowed Steve the small win. 
 The man looked over at you next, raising a brow questionably, but all you could do is chuckle at his reaction. Holding your hands up defeatedly before settling back into a resting position. With a flick to the paper and cross of his legs, Steve finally seemed to relax again. 
 It was only a few more seconds of silence before Dustin changed the subject. 
 “Any idea what she’s writing?” The four of you slowly diverted your attention to the girl in the back. She was still quiet, working at the desk like she did late into the night. “Did she sleep?”
 “No,” you answered softly, trying not to speak so loud and clue her in on your guys' tactless conversation about her. 
 “I mean, would you?” Lucas asked. 
 “I wouldn’t.” you answered honestly. That earned you a worried glance from Steve. Thankfully, before any questions could come out from that, the loud shut of the basement door cut into the room. 
 Nancy and Robin quickly came down the stairs, a small approving look on their faces as they held onto the folders you had been patiently waiting for. 
 “Okay, so, we have a plan.” Nancy announced, mostly to those unaware of last night’s conversation. The files were given to the others, allowing them a clue in while Robin explained where they had gone that morning. 
 “Thanks to Nancy’s minions, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame.” 
 “Ugh, Notre Dame?” you asked, earning a small amused look from your friends before they passed you the last folder. Apparently you’d be joining them this time.
 “I’m now Ruth.” 
 “And I’m Rose.” 
 “Ruth?” Steve asked amusedly. You would have joined in on the silly name, if your eyes had not landed over the name at the top of your page. 
 “Rhonda?!” you gaped, eyes flickering between the paper and your two friends. “Of all the names–”
 “The Beach Boys happened to be playing on the radio when we couldn’t think of another name.” Robin excused quickly, waving her hand to point over to the student status card. “Look at your pretty extracurriculars.” 
 Dustin leaned over to glance at your file. “You guys do have nice GPAs.” he said, throwing in some positive feedback.
 “Thanks.” Nancy said cheerfully before explaining further. “So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics–”
 “To which they said no.” Robin threw in, adding some reality into the plans.
 “But, we landed a three o’clock with the director.”
 “Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor.”
 “Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse.” Nancy finished, hopefulness in her voice. 
 “All easy things, of course.” you muttered sarcastically, handing your file out to the small rotation that was happening with the boys. 
 “Yeah, about that.” Steve joined in, “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh, we got some questions.”
 “Lots of questions.” Lucas emphasized. 
 “So do we,” Nancy agreed. “Hopefully, Victor has the answers.”
 “Wait, wait, wait a second.” You all looked over to Steve as he confusedly looked over the papers before him. “Where’s mine?”
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It was only a matter of seconds into Nancy’s room that Steve went into a mini tantrum.
 “Nancy, you’re outta your mind if you think I’m babysitting again.”
 “Okay, first of all, they’re not babies anymore. And Max is in real danger. She needs people around her.” she turned to open her closet before stopping. “Also, It wasn’t just my idea, you know.” she said to him, throwing a glance over at you. 
 Steve looked at you with wide eyes.
 “Way to throw me under the bus.” you muttered, making your way to lie down on her perfectly made bed. Thankfully he didn’t let that part of the conversation linger and returned back to the main focus. 
 “I know she needs people. But why does it always have to be me?”
 “Oh my God, you have a Tom Cruise poster!” Robin gushed as she came into the room now. The excitement on her face is so opposite of Steve’s annoyed one that you can’t help but be entertained from your spot. “You have a Tom Cruise poster~.” 
 “That’s old!” Nancy replied, trying to justify her previous celebrity crush.
 “You act like you’ve never been in a girl’s room before.” you chuckled to your friend, watching her go through Nancy’s tapes next.
 “This is Nancy’s room, It’s like a whole new personality to find out.”
 “Can you please not touch anything?” she tried telling Robin. Again, Steve is left to try and bring the focus back onto him and his current agenda. 
 Leaving the babysitting business.
 “I just-I just- I can’t do anything here, Nance. Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I don’t know. I could turn on my..my charm.”
 “Not the charm we need.” she shut down kindly, still hurting his ego in the process.
 “Ouch,” he turned before he caught you watching comfortably from the bed. “Well, why does she get to go?” he pouted, pointing over at you
 “Hey!” you frowned, sitting up now. “What are you trying to say?”
 “Nothing! Just that if I’m stuck babysitting again then so should you.”
 “We need her.” Nancy butt in, poking her head out from the closet. “Not only is she Ivy League type, but some of her assets might be what we need to convince them if all else fails.”
 “What assets?” you and Steve asked at the same time.
 “She means your boobs.” Robin said plainly, holding onto one of Nancy’s sunglasses from her dresser. “Let’s be real, she’s as hot as she is smart so it’ll be of use when we need to get through.”
 You couldn’t help but glance down at your chest, frowning at the ‘assets’ in question before your eyes landed back on Steve for his reaction. He’s unfortunately looking at the same thing as you were, nodding his head despite the frustrated frown still on his face. 
 “I’d like to make a note that her confidence is good enough to convince anyone she belongs in a room.” Nancy threw in, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Plus, she can charm the pants off pretty much any guy that comes her way.”
 “I suddenly feel dirty.” you scoffed, rolling off the bed. “But I suppose I have no other choice but to play the role of femme fatale.”
 “I can charm.” he grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve charmed the charmer.” he pointed out, looking at you again.
 Nancy looked over at him with a sad smile as she tried to reassure him of things again. “I just– Look, I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a lifelong student of the world. And if we’re gonna win him over, we’re gonna have to convince him that we are too. That, like him, we are true academic scholars.” 
 “Holy shit.” Robin whispered while playing the music box loudly. “There’s a little ballerina in here.” 
 It’s comically quiet for a second while the three of you gaped over at her. Steve can’t help but look at Nancy dumbfoundedly.  
 “Academic scholar?” he asked, using his hand to point attention to his friend. “She’s giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah..”
 “No,” Nancy replied honestly. “But, she will.” 
 You all cast your eyes over the frilly pink shirt Nancy had been rummaging for her in the closet for. It’s a lovely top you’ve seen your friend wear before. But for someone like Robin, whom you’re pretty sure you haven’t even seen in a skirt before, it must have been a frilly nightmare. 
 “Oh, please, tell me that you’re joking.” muttered Robin, horrified. 
 You made a mental note that while you were more than happy to be a team player, you weren’t going to be walking around a mental asylum cinched into Nancy’s clothes. “I’m going to shop over at the Karen Wheeler selection.”
 Leaving the room, you quickly made your way over to Nancy’s parents room. Thankful that the other members of the Wheeler family had set out for a busy day to give you the chance to sneak in. It was only a second later that Steve came in after you. Frown still on his face but attitude slowly disappeared when he noticed you started to change. 
 “I don’t think I need any help here, Steve.” you said playfully, reaching for one of Karen’s two piece suits. 
 It was a pastel green peplum top with a nicely fitted blazer skirt. The pastel color wasn’t your thing but it was paired up with a silky white button shirt. It made the whole ensemble look mature with the small bit of sultriness you needed. “Props to you, Karen.” you mused, squeezing inside the skirt. 
 You were about to reach over for the top next when Steve suddenly took your hands. “Trouble, we need to talk.” he said softly, stopping you from continuing getting dressed.
 “You talk, I’ll get dressed.”
 "I don't like this," Steve said while he watched you reach back for the top again. "You guys don't even know what you're walking into. And you’re doing it alone"
 “How can three people be alone?” You asked, letting out a long sigh before buttoning up your shirt. “Also, we know what we’re walking into. A guarded asylum, run by staff who we’re hopefully going to trick into letting us interview one of their high risk schizophrenics patients.” you said simply, reaching over for the blazer next. “Kinda, straightforward.”
 That earned you a tired look.
 "Are you sure about this, Trouble?" His voice was laced with worry, his eyes searching yours for some sort of reassurance.
 “Look, we’re just going to ask some questions and hopefully get out of there with something useful.” 
 “But what if something happens? What if you guys get caught?” 
 “Then you’ll get to be that brave Knight in white Nikes, again, right?” You teased, reaching out to cup the side of his face. He let out a heavy sigh, resting his hand on top of yours as he leaned in closer. 
 “Trouble, you know what I me—” 
 You pressed your lips against his, kissing him gently and stopping him from running into more scenarios. “We have each other, we’ll be safe.” You promised, pecking his lips once more before you pulled back to look at him. 
 Steve's concern persisted, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation. "I just don't want anything to happen to you," he murmured.
 “Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” You said softly, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “Worst case scenario is we get arrested for false documents and that’ll just be a phone call to my Dad. Which Dustin or Max will help get for you.” 
 He nodded his head slowly and you gave a small pat to his cheek before letting go to switch out for some cute pumps Karen had hidden in the back of her closet. The outfit looked good, but was it enough for what you guys needed to do?
 “All right,” you sighed, grabbing his attention again while you fixed your hair. Hoping it was still fine after having such a restless night. “How do I look?”
 Steve, for the first time, didn’t seem to be bothered now that he was watching as you turned in spot to give him an overall view. His hands reached out to grab at your hips as he pulled you closer. Letting his height tower over you while he gave you a small smirk.
 “Like a scholar,” he murmured. “A very pretty scholar, who uses her kisses to try to make me forget how worried I am about her.”
 Your heart beats a little fast, but you find yourself almost pressing up to him. “And is it working?”
 “Sorta.”
 Nancy suddenly called out your name from down the hall, cutting the conversation short.
 Or so you thought. 
 Steve waited until you were walking toward the door before he reached for your hand and tugged you back into his arms. You’re about to ask what he was doing when he leaned in to press his lips against yours again. 
 The kiss is deeper this time. More needy and hot than the sweet calming one you gave to him. Instantly, your body fell for it and tried to mold against his. There were always going to be unsettled feelings between the two of you, but the physical ones never seemed to be the problem. 
 It’s not until Robin called out your name, more aggravated than the way Nancy did, that he reluctantly pulled back. His eyes were warm, and looking at you in a way that made your cheeks burn a bit. "Just... be careful, okay, Rhonda?" he pleaded, his knuckles brushing lightly against your cheek.
 The simple touch sent a shiver down your spine and you nodded meekly before offering a faint smile. “We will,” you reassured him. “Mr. Charmer.”
 He shot back a beautiful smile as he finally let you go. From down the hall you could see as he picked up your discarded clothes while he whistled a familiar tune that tugged at your heart. It wasn’t until you were at the bottom of the stairs that you noticed your slightly disgruntled friends. 
 Nancy was rubbing the side of her head while Robin awkwardly kept adjusting at her bra. You open your mouth to tease her about her being dressed up as a Nancy clone, when she held up a hand before you could make any comment. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” she grunted before stalking to the front door.
 Nancy and you were left rushing after her until you were all outside. The other two led the way towards Nancy’s station wagon when you stopped and noticed Steve’s car parked nearby. The front windows were down a bit, giving you a look inside to something you’ve been aching to see again. 
 Running to the door, you reached your hand in and carefully tugged on the sun visor until you were able to pull the metal out. Not wanting the other girls to catch you, you ran back towards the car and quickly climbed into the back seat. 
 It’s not until the drive over had begun that you finally opened up your palm and stared down at the item. The sun perfectly illuminated the shining S, giving you something of comfort to have it in your possession again. You quickly pushed the necklace into the pocket of your jacket, feeling it relax your silently anxious nerves.
 “So what did you steal from his car?” Nancy asked, looking out the front window as she pulled out of her driveway onto the street. Her blue eyes flickered over to you in the rear view mirror, almost like she already knew.
 “Just...something for luck.”
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 The three of you arrive at Pennhurst in a good amount of time. There was still time left in the day to get what you needed and hopefully return to Max before the twenty-four hours were up. 
 As you all exited the car, you couldn’t help but watch as Robin struggled to balance herself in the very low heels that Nancy had her in. “I feel like I’m watching a newborn deer walk.” you said with a sly grin.
 The girl bobbed her head over at you, giving you a glare as she adjusted her footing again.
 “Do not test me, Henderson. I can’t breathe in this thing, and I’m itchy. I’m itching all over!” she huffed. 
 “It’s not all about comfort.” Nancy retorted. “Okay? We’re academics.”
 “Who are evidently coming straight from Easter brunch.” Robin hissed, stumbling once more before she gripped at the side of her underarms. “Also, this bra that you gave me is really pinching my boobs!”
 “We’re also college girls and college girls definitely don’t say boobs. Not to mention, they know how to handle wearing heels. Especially measly one inch heels, Robs.” 
 “Oh, I hope you get rotten eggs in your basket this year.” she swore, giving you a small glare as she tugged at the sides again. Nancy let out a small, tired, exhale and turned to look over at the two of you.
 “Okay. Could you two just let me do the talking? If that’s even possible?” she asked, sounding overwhelmed. 
 “It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable.” Robin threw back. “Because shortly, I’ll be dead from strangulation.” 
 Somehow you three managed to cover up the discomfort between the three of you in order to enter inside and get in for the meeting with Dr. Hatch.
 It’s a wasted few short minutes of him overgoing all three files while you guys patiently sat around his desk. Robin somehow, got between the two of you, and started to itch again. Nearly getting the attention from the man now and then. 
 “Three point nine GPAs.” He mused offhandedly. “The three of you…impressive.” 
 “And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley.” Nancy added in, offering the man one of the other letters written up from the Newspaper lackeys. 
 “Yeah, I know Larry. Quite well, actually.” The director replied, making all three of you sit up a bit straighter. His eyes looked from the paper as he gave off a small teasing smile. “Eh, you know what they say, ‘Those who can’t do, teach.’” 
 The other two girls give off an encouraging chuckle, while you can’t help but open your mouth at this guy’s slightly patronizing behavior. 
 “I always felt Aristotle said it better,” you pointed out, leaning forward to throw off one of your more charming smiles. “Those who know, do. Those that understand, teach.”
 The other two girls nervously glanced your way, raising a brow at your sudden opinion. Over at the desk, sat Hatch as he took in the words you said. Only letting out an amused chuckle before he nodded his head. “That is a positive way of looking at it.”
 “That’s actually why we’re here.” Nancy spoke up. “I mean, we can only learn so much in a classroom.”
 “Mm. And I’m sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol to visiting a patient like Victor. You have to put in a request, and then you have to undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”
 You felt frustrated hearing his reply. All those were logical reasons that you three did not have time for. Glancing to your right, you watched as Robin began to squirm in her seat. Adjusting the collar and edges of her skirt over and over as she tried not to scratch. You reached out to grab at her hand, giving her a warning look that only caused her to pout at you.
 “I can see you’re disappointed. But I’m more than happy to give you a tour of our facility. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low-security wing.”
 “And we’d..we would love that.” Nancy said, looking over at you guys to nod in agreement. “It’s just that, um..our thesis is due next month.”
 “And you’re out of time.” he figured.
 “Unfortunately, yes.” you sighed, trying to sound a little guilty about it. “Things got a little pushed back–”
 “Whose fault is that?” he asked sharply, nearly making you throw him a glare. From the side you watched Nancy’s eyes widen a bit as she attempted to throw in a bit of damage control.
 “Ours. Absolutely. And I do apologize–”
 “Don’t apologize, Ruth. Screw that!” Robin interrupted. “The fact of the matter is, we did put in a request months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis. And I really..I can’t breathe in this thing!” she said, turning to glance at Nancy. 
 “Well, Rose, maybe you’d like to go outside and get some air. I think Rhonda and I can handle this.” she insisted, giving Robin a pleading look.”
 “Maybe I should, Ruth!” she said, slapping at the arms of her chair before she got up from her seat. “Because I’m starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I’m breaking out in a rash. My boobs hurt. And I’ll tell you the truth, Anthony. May I call you Anthony? These aren’t actually my clothes. I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field. They just don’t.”
 From your seat you can’t help but gape at your friend because either she’s been taking acting lessons without your knowledge or that shirt was really so torturous that it was giving her the best ending speech of her life. 
 “We don’t look the part or whatever. But can I tell you a story? 1978, I was at summer camp. And my counselor Drew told me and everyone in Cabin C, the true story of the Victor Creel Massacre. And little Petey McHew..You know Petey, right, Ruth, Rhonda?”
 “Of..of course.” Nancy stuttered. 
 “Totally!” you chuckled nervously, wondering where this was going to go.
 “Yeah. Little Petey McHew started sobbing right there on the spot. Full-on hyperventilating. And all the other campers, they couldn’t sleep for weeks. And I couldn’t sleep either but not because I was scared. Because I was obsessed with the question, ‘What would drive a human being to commit such unimaginable acts?’ Other kids, they wanted to be astronauts, basketball players, rockstars. But I wanted to be you! I wanted to be you. So, forgive me if I’ll now try anything in my power, including wearing this ridiculous outfit, if I might get to speak to the man that ignited my passion and learn a little bit more about how his twisted, but let’s face it, totally fascinating mind works. So, yes, we don’t have the official paperwork, but don’t tell me that cry-baby Petey McHew wouldn’t have gotten an audience with Victor in a matter of moments if he’d asked politely, because you and I both know that he would.”
 A beat of pause and you were practically glued to the edge of your seat. Glancing between a very red faced Robin and what looked like a suddenly moved Hatch.
 “So..ten minutes with Victor. That’s all I ask.”
 It felt like forever as the three of you stared over at the man with bated breath. 
 “Follow me, girls.” 
 Without question, you all shot out from your seats and quickly followed the man out. Robin stood proudly between the two of you, allowing Hatch to lead the way while she held her palms out for you both. Nancy and you happily gave her a pleased smirk before pulling your hands out and giving Robin the well deserved high-five.
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 By the time you guys were walking the grounds of Pennhurst, the sun had died even more. Throwing the whole yard into an overcast gray as the four of you made the way to Creel’s holding.
 “These are our gardens.” Hatch announced. “Beautiful aren’t they? We allow them two hours of outside time a day.”
 “Can’t they just escape?” Robin asked, glancing at one of the patients waving nearby.
 “They could. But the vast majority choose to be here. They like it here.”
 “And they’ve said this themselves?” you muttered, worriedly glancing over to a particular woman near a flower bed. Something about this place didn’t feel right to you and his indifferent tone wasn’t helping you feel any better about it. 
 The three of you are led into a building. The soft sounds of music could be heard from outside the room before you guys walked in. 
 “This is one of our more popular areas. The listening room.” Hatch said in a much quieter voice. “We found that music has a particularly calming effect on the broken mind. The right song, particularly one which holds some personal meaning, can prove a salient stimulus.”
 The right song..
 That sparked an interest within you. Recalling how just the other night, Eddie managed to calm down your bad dream with the simple strum of the familiar tune. 
 Hatch straightened up as he led you girls towards a room in the back. Voice turned eerie as he went on. “But there are those who are beyond a cure.” 
 Down the stairs, what looked like a basement floor, stood a lonely guard. Curiously glancing at the four of you guys while you made your descent. 
 “Uh, Dr. Hatch, do you think it might be possible for us to speak to Victor alone?”
 He paused at that, casting a shocked glance at her question. “Alone?” he asked, walking back over. You perked up, offering him a kind smile as you tried to help make the idea sound not as crazy as it really was. 
 “I have to second that request. I think it’d be beneficial for the three of us to gain hands-on experience in this.”
 Robin nervously nodded along with you, throwing in her piece. 
 “I-I think that we would just love the challenge of speaking with Victor without the safety net of an expert such as yourself. Then we could really rub it in Professor Bradley’s face. When we get back to campu–”
 “Professor Bradley?” he interrupted. “I don’t believe I know a Professor Bradley.”
 “Brantley!” Nancy corrected, trying to fix Robin's slip up. “She..she meant to say Brantley.”
 “Didn’t I say Brantley? What did I say?”
 “You keep messing up today!” you playfully chided, forcing a giggle to come out as you lightly slapped the back of her hand. 
 “Sorry, silly me. Words, letters.” she chuckled nervously. “Guess I’m just nervous..I mean, excited. SO excited to speak with Victor. Preferably, as they mentioned, alone?”
 Much to your dismay, the suspicion never left his eyes as he watched over the three of you quietly. You’re beginning to think that this whole plan has failed and that you three would be leaving with nothing. But soon enough his stoic face broke as he spoke.
 “Yes,” he said, smiling over his frown now. “Why not? You’ve caught me in a rebellious mood.”
 You forced a chuckle with the others, hopefully sounding enthralled with his humor enough that he’ll return back to trying to be charming once more. 
 “There’s something rather urgent I need to check on anyway, so.. Sure.” he said before looking towards the guard. “Keep a close eye on them.” 
 With that, he quickly made his leave to the stairs. All of you shot off thanks to him as he made his exit before following the guard into the area. 
 It’s an ominous hall of cells. Clamoring and groaning with other patients that seemingly weren’t allowed the freedom of wandering the lawns of the asylum. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat with every step after the guard, not daring looking into the cells of the patients you walked past while the guard laid out some rules.
 “Do not startle him. Do not touch him. Do not pass him anything. Stand five feet away from the bars at all times. Is that clear?”
 “Yes, sir.” the three of you said together. 
 He approached the last cell of the block, using his baton to hit against the metal bars to the patient inside. 
 “Victor!” he sang out. “Today’s your lucky day! You got visitors…real pretty ones.”
 There’s an echoing scratching noise that had you wincing slightly. Victor said nothing, keeping his back to you guys. 
 “Must be in one of his moods.” shrugged the guard. “Have fun.”
 Without another taunt, he left down the hall from where you came from. Leaving the three of you to get started on the work finally. Nancy is the first one confident enough to speak out to the man, ignoring the fact that he was quietly snarling to himself in the chair. 
 “Victor?” she called out gently. “My name is Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. And these are my friends.”
 You and Robin quickly tell him your names, careful with how loudly you spoke out to him.
 “Um, we have some questions.” Robin added, voice higher with nerves.
 “I don’t talk to reporters.” Victor spat out. “Hatch knows that.”
 “We’re not reporters.” Nancy quickly, but gently, corrected. “We’re here because..we believe you. And because..we need your help.”
 Robin took her turn, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Whatever killed your family, we think it’s back.” 
 Silence hung heavy in the air as you three waited for a response. When none came, you sucked in a sharp breath, summoning every ounce of courage your friends had to come to you. "And we're not leaving until we get some answers, Victor.."
 All your words must have sparked something of an interest to the man, causing him to pull away from the desk and emerge from the shadows. Revealing an older man. Worn down by years of torment that must have come from that night. But the most haunting part of his appearance were his eyes. Swollen eyes shut by some previous stab wound. 
 But even with that in mind, there was something about his gaze that felt off. As if he was staring right through you.
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 “..When he attacks, our friend described it as a trance. Like a waking nightmare. That’s why we think he’s coming for her next. Does any of this, anything we’ve told you, sound like what happened to your family?”
 From your spot you could hear as Victor’s breath began to shake. Almost fearfully. 
 “Victor.” Nancy spoke out again. “I know this is hard–”
 “You don’t know anything!” he bellowed.
 His voice echoed throughout the hall. Almost shutting up any other noise around you guys. 
 “You’re right.” Nancy nodded slowly. “We don’t know. That’s why we’re here. To learn, to understand.”
 “We need to know how you survived that night.”  Robin added, earning a disbelieving laugh from the man. 
 “Survived?” he asked sardonically. “Is that what you call this? Did I survive?” He slowly approached the bars, almost as if he knew where to direct his growing anger towards. The three of you pressed closer to each other. Keeping a safe space back as he spoke again. “No, I assure you, I am still very much in hell.”
 Surprisingly, that did not stop Victor from beginning his story. 
 The return home from war, the new fortune that fell into his family’s lives, and the promise of a new chapter in their lives. The reminiscence in his voice almost sounded..loving, far beyond the tone of a man who had murdered those he spoke of. 
 “It was a magnificent home. Alice said it looked like it was from a fairy tale.”
 He spoke of the name so fondly, almost like sighing her name brought relief to him. 
 “Alice. Was this your daughter?” Nancy asked.
 “Mhm, Yeah. But Henry, my boy, he was a sensitive child..and I could see he felt something was wrong.” His voice turned low for his other child. Sort sombering to his previous mood. “We had one month of peace in that house. And then it began..”
 He shook his head slowly. Memories seemingly coming to his mind. 
 “Dead animals, mutilated, tortured, began to appear near our home. Rabbits, squirrels, chickens, even dogs. The police chief blamed the attacks on a wildcat. This..” He paused to let out another feigned laugh. “This was no wildcat. This was an evil. An evil neither animal nor human.”
 He walked towards the bars again as he whispered out next words.
 “This was a spawn of Satan. A demon. And it was even closer than I realized.”
 You felt a shiver run down your spine. Trying to picture out what it was that could have been attacking their home. But like the night you saw Chrissy die, you knew that force was unseeable. That its fury came with no warning. 
 “My family began to have encounters conjured by this demon. Nightmares. Waking, living nightmares. This demon, it seemed to take pleasure in tormenting us. Even poor, innocent Alice.”
 So this curse spared no one. You couldn’t help but think. If his daughter wasn’t safe from it, neither would Max. And that made your stomach turn even more. You pushed your hand into your pocket, squeezing around the metal of the necklace. It brought a moment of comfort until you listened to more of Victor’s story. 
 “It wasn’t long before I began to have encounters of my own.” he recalled, turning away from you all. “I suppose all evil must have a home. And though I had not a rational explanation for it, I..I could sense this demon..always close. I became convinced it was hiding, nesting, somewhere within the shadows of our home.”
 You can’t help but think about this presence. This sense of dread, always creeping up on you these days. Like it was haunting you.
 “It had cursed our town. It had cursed our home..It had cursed us.”
 A hand reached out for your arm and you glanced down to see Nancy gripping onto you while her face stared hard at Victor. Quietly, you gave you a small reassuring pat before watching as Victor flopped down onto his bed defeatedly. 
 “It took Virginia first.”
 The flashback of Chrissy’s body being twisted and pulled into different directions came to mind. You barely knew her and it shocked you to your core. You couldn’t imagine the horrors if you had to see it happen to someone you loved. Someone like St– 
 “I tried to get the children out, to save them!” he exclaimed, pulling back your attention. “..But I was back to France, back in the war..It..it was a memory. I had thought German soldiers were inside. I ordered its shelling. I was wrong.”
 Victor physically started to become tormented by his own words. The very words that must have been half the torture as whatever was going through his mind. You felt yourself being pulled in, wishing to help this poor man, but you had to hear it all.
 “This demon, it was taunting me. And I was sure it would take me, just as he’d taken my Virginia. But then..I heard..another voice. At first, I believed it was an angel. And I..I followed her, only to find myself in a nightmare far worse…While I was away, the demon took my children. Henry slipped into a coma shortly after that. A week later, he died.”
 Without realizing it, you pressed against the metal bars. Listening to what you thought might be the very future you were to face. But even with that new fear in you, you couldn’t help but seek out one missing piece. 
 “Did you hear it?” you whispered. 
 “Hear what?” he muttered back.
 “The ticking..”
 He turned his whole body around, facing in your direction calmly before he nodded his head. 
 “Yes..it was there..it was always there.”
 You staggered back, hope fleeting quickly as you came to realize that even with your small difference in things. Your fate would end the same. From the side you could feel Nancy and Robin cast you a worried look before Victor spoke up again.
 “I tried to join them��I tried!” His voice sounded almost like a small child, pleading for forgiveness to his upset Mother. He raised up two fists and pressed them to his eyes. It weighed down on your already heavy heart.
 “Hatch stopped the bleeding.” he sobbed. “He wouldn’t let me join them!”
 The three of you watched as he slowly lied down on the bed. Reaching up to his pillow to hold close to his face for comfort.
 “The angel you followed, who was she?” asked Nancy gently. 
 He didn't answer as he swayed gently. Only humming out the best that he could in his distress state. It sounded familiar. Something you’ve heard long ago. But you couldn’t quite recall it now. 
 “Victor?..Victor!”
 “Is he everything you hoped he would be?”
 You guys jumped at the booming voice, turning around to glance down the hall. Hatch, along with two security guards behind him, were making their way over now. 
 “I just had a very interesting conversation with Professor Brantley! Perhaps we should discuss in my office while we wait for the police.” 
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 The three of you were quickly rushed out of the holding cells. Pushing impatiently through the stairs until you were back in the listening room. Nancy raced after Hatch, trying to plead out to him.
 “You’re not listening. Our friend is in danger!”
 “Do you really expect me to believe anything you have to say at this point?”
 “It’s the truth!”
 “You are free to tell your sob story to the police.”
 You clung close to Robin’s side since leaving the cell. Victor’s words still echoed  in your mind as you guys weaved through the tables of people. Every now and then a guard would give your shoulder a shove and you’d have to step faster to keep close to the other two. 
 Once you guys were back outside, Robin gripped at your arm and pushed you close to Nancy as she leaned in to speak to you two better. 
 “Victor said the night of the attack, everything went on in the house, but he made specific mention of music.”
 You nodded your head a little. “The night at Eddie’s trailer. The only reason I knew something was up was because of the lights outside. But there wasn’t any music..”
 “Right, but that might have been the key difference!” she pointed out. “He said music was playing. And then, when we asked him about the angel, he started to hum.”
 She hummed the tune a bit before singing out the lyrics. “Say nighty-night and kiss me. Hold me tight..”
 “Dream a Little Dream of Me!” Nancy caught on.
 “Yeah, Ella Fitzgerald.”
 “The voice of an angel!” you and Nancy gasped.
 “Hatch said that music can reach parts of the brain that words can’t. So maybe that’s the key, a lifeline.”
 “A lifeline back to reality.” Nancy added.
 “Something to ground them.” you muttered, mostly to yourself. But would that have really worked at the stage when you and Eddie were calling out to Chrissy? It wasn’t just a trance she was in, she was being lifted off the Earth. You were so lost in thought, you almost missed catching your friends checking over their shoulders. 
 “You’re gonna have to lose those.” Nancy muttered towards your feet as she stole one more glance.
 “Lose them?” you asked confused, looking from your feet to the guards behind you three.
 “I think we can beat him.” Nancy whispered. This time it was Robin’s turn to be confused.
 “What?”
 “To the car.”
 Robin’s face paled a bit at the idea. 
 “Okay. I’m warning you right now, I have terrible coordination. Like it took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies.”
 “Yeah, I’m not really any better.” you sighed, feeling the rush already start to climb up your body. “Last time I tried running off I got caught.”
 “She’s right.” Robin nodded. “Those Russian guards caught her in seconds.”
 Nancy gave you two both exasperated looks before she sternly turned towards the way she wanted you three to go. “Just follow my lead.”
 “No, my God!” Robin panicked. 
 In a split second the three of you sprinted off in the lawn. Shoes flying off feet as you ran through the grounds, past the orderly and patients that covered the large lawn. The guards continued to call out for the three of you to stop but you guys pushed through. 
 Behind you Robin was panicking, and you were trying to control the dry heave that wanted to come out of your throat as you attempted to follow Nancy. You could hear one of the patients call out as you all zoomed past him.
 “Cinderella, you dropped your shoe!”
 You were definitely gonna have to buy Karen Wheeler a nice pair of pumps after this.
 Somehow you guys managed to make it to the front of the Asylum. The air burned your lungs and you let out a tired cry at the sight of the station wagon. All of you quickly climbed inside, shutting the doors in record timing. Nancy’s hands were barely on the wheel before the guards began to pound at the windows.
 “GOGOGOGOGO!” Robin babbled, panicked at the sight of the men. 
 The tires screeched loudly as Nancy shot out of the parking spot. It’s a mess of emotions as you let out a small thankful whine while Robin continued to panic.
 “Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
 “You really are a weird runner!” Nancy said to Robin, earning an annoyed look from the girl. Dustin’s voice perked up from the radio, cutting into the quick celebration.
 “Robin, where the hell are you? This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!” 
 “Max!” you gasped, allowing Robin’s steady hand to take the radio from you. 
 “Dustin, it’s Robin. We copy!”
 “Holy shit, finally! Please, please tell me you guys have this figured out!”
 “It’s music! She needs to hear music as a lifeline. Use a song she’s connected with to bring her back!”
 The line went painfully quiet.
 “Oh God.” you gasped, feeling the tears spring to your eyes. Not Max. It couldn’t happen to her. Not the small girl who sparked such a fiery personality. The one who offered you nothing but a genuine friendship back home. The only person who understood what it was like dealing with the real Billy. She was your friend, she was like family at this point. And despite the current rifts that hit your current relationship, you still deeply cared for her. 
 If she was going through what Chrissy and Fred did—you weren’t ready for that reality. 
 “Please not her.”
 Robin could only reach forward to grip at your hand while Nancy pressed harder on the gas. Jerking the car a bit as she sped back towards town. You quickly  began to hyperventilate, wondering if you’ve just lost your dear friend when suddenly Dustin’s voice broke through again.
 “We got her! Shit..She’s back, it worked!”
 All three of you let out a sigh of relief together. 
 “Thank God.” you heard Robin whisper.
 The beat of your heart is still erratic and you cover your face to take a second and catch your breath. It wasn’t over yet. You guys still had time. 
 “Time?” said a familiar deep voice beside you. 
 Slowly, you pulled your hands away from your face. Around you the world began to shift, turning into the dark middle of the night as it took you into a different reality. You were driving suddenly. Holding onto the large wheel of the car that seemed so familiar. 
 “No.” you whispered, shaking your head, this couldn’t be real. You were..you were just in the station wagon. Turning your head, you were shocked to find Billy sitting on the seat beside you. Mouth still oozing from the dark blood as he threw you a smirk. 
 “Don’t you know, babydoll?” he asked playfully. “Times up.”
 You were so shocked, so stunned to see Billy outside of a dream, that you never really noticed the headlights that were coming your way… 
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  “DUSTIN! STEVE! WE NEED HELP! – OH SHIT, SHE’S CURSED GUYS, HOLY SHIT! — GODDAMNIT, ONE OF YOU BASTARDS ANSWER ME. – WHAT’S THE SONG!? – STEVE! WHAT’S HER FAVORITE SONG!?”
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A/N: Hey guys! This chapter was a bit lengthy, but I could not find it in myself to skip out on Victor’s story. The actor, gives off such great emotion and I’ve been a fan of his when he was back playing Freddy~ ANYWAY, I tried to include some scenes I hope you guys love. Please excuse any mistakes and let me know what you think! Would love some feedback~
TAGGING LIST: k @cluz1babe, @starofavolonea, @primroseluna, & @siriuslysmoking​ 
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bullet-prooflove · 8 months ago
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The Finder: Duke Crocker x Reader
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @aiko24k @magic-multicolored-miracle
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When you’d first turned up in Haven you’d called yourself a P.I, Duke knows better these days, the more appropriate term would be a ‘Finder’. You have an exceptional gift for locating missing people, it’s that that brought you to Haven in the first place.
You’d been on the trail of your friend Jim Delaney, a man who had simply stepped out of your life one day and vanished into thin air. You’d managed to track him all the way here to Maine.
Using your less than savoury connections you’d discovered that Duke had been the one to smuggle him out of Boston. Jim’s Trouble had started to manifest physically and he’d had to cash in a favour from an old friend to spirit him away. It was safer for everyone, Jim had told you when you’d showed up at the houseboat Duke had set him up with.
It's seeing your compassion that makes Duke realise that you’re something special. Jim’s Trouble had disfigured him, rendered him practically unrecognisable to the man you once knew. However that didn’t seem to faze you. When you realised he was getting sicker, that his affliction was terminal  you had set up yourself up in Haven and liquidating your business assets so that you could afford to make Jim more comfortable during his remaining few months.
“Who is he to you?” Duke had asked one night when the two of you were walking alongside each other on the beach. “Why come all the way out here to find him? Why choose to stay?”
“He’s my friend.” You say simply. “He gave me a chance when nobody else would.”
He’s doesn’t quite understand what that means until the night Jim passes away. The two of you are sipping from a forty year old single malt that he  would have loved when you find yourself telling Duke how Jim saved you.
“I was living on the streets trying to escape a bad situation. I left with the clothes on my back and a couple of dollars I’d managed to take from my boyfriend’s wallet.” You tell him as you lay on a blanket, staring up at the stars. “I couldn’t go to the shelter because I knew he would find me so I started sleeping rough, trying to stay one step ahead of him until I could find a way to earn that wasn’t…”
You trail off then and Duke’s fingers thread through yours because he’s had to do some pretty terrible things to survive and now he knows you have too. He doesn’t judge you for it. He’s just glad you’re out of that situation, that you’re safe.
“He hired Jim to find you didn’t he?” he says into the darkness.
“Yea.” You say softly. “Jim, he took one look at the bruises, the doorway I was sleeping in, the clothes I was wearing…”
“And he saw you.” Duke says knowingly because Jim, he had done something similar for him just after Simon Crocker had died. He had been a lonely, messed up kid when Jim had taken him under his wing, helped him find his feet.
“He got me out of the city, set me up with a new identity, a job, a life.” You say softly, your voice breaking just a little. “He didn’t want anything, he didn’t expect anything, he just did it…”
“That’s who he was.” Duke says quietly as he shifts onto his side, propping his head up on his arm. “He couldn’t stand to see someone in distress, he couldn’t help himself…”
You turn to face him and he can see the agony in your eyes because Jim, he was a more than just a friend to you, he was a mentor, a father figure, the man who saved your life.
Without him you’re alone in the world all over again and Duke knows how hard that is, how untethered and isolated it makes you feel. His thumb ghosts over your cheek, chasing away the tears that stain your cheeks. He’s known you for just four months but already it feels like a life time.
“We’re gonna take care of each other alright?” He whispers to you as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “It’s you and me, no matter what happens. We’ll take care of each other.”
The two of you stay up, swapping stories about Jim into the early hours of the morning. You laugh, you cry and finally you fall asleep curled up against Duke, your head resting on his chest as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat. He draws the blanket up around your shoulders, tucking it around your body as he holds you close. You’re gone when he awakens, the scent of your perfume and the sea clinging to his skin.
You don’t come back for three weeks and when you do it's one in the morning.
He’s asleep when you let yourself into his bedroom, he wakes up to the aroma of jasmine and sunshine, it floods his senses as you join him underneath the covers. He thinks he’s dreaming at first but his dreams, they’re never this sweet.
“Tell me you’ve missed me.” You whisper as you strip off your shirt and his calloused palms chase over your bare skin.
“I have thought about you every damn day.” He murmurs into the curve of your throat as he helps you undress.
He makes love to you that night, his lips trailing over your naked form as the sound of the waves crash in his ears.
When he wakes up it’s to an empty bed. He sighs, burying his face into your pillow because this isn’t one of his usual one night affairs. He actually cares about you, the feelings he has, they’ve been there since the day you turned up on his boat peppering him with questions about Jim.
When he steps out onto his deck that morning he doesn’t expect to see you sitting there, wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his boots. You’re perched in his chair, sipping tea from a chipped mug and reading one of those mystery novels that you love so much.
Haven, he thinks as he lingers in the doorway, the edges of his mouth turning into a smile. It just has this way of giving people what they need, especially when they least expect it.
Love Duke? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
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mcgrillzdumpinc · 10 months ago
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so I'm writing a multi chap JinMao fic right now and I want to share this preview~
She holds up a berry for Jinshi, who stares at her for a few seconds too long. Just as Maomao realizes that she has offered to feed him, his teeth delicately take the red fruit, soon followed by soft lips that close around Maomao’s fingertips. Maomao is frozen, all her attention drawn to the glistening bits of saliva on her, while Jinshi just opens his mouth in anticipation for more.
“I’m not feeding you,” she protests.
“You are,” Jinshi quickly rebuffs. She swears, he only remembers his position when he can use it to make her do annoying things. He parts his jaws again, waiting.
Maomao complies by shoving a fistful of berries into his mouth.
Jinshi chokes. “What was that for?” Despite the mess, he laughs and begins picking up the berries that fell on him.
Maomao gets up on the bed and returns to where she was laying, back to Jinshi’s working left side. She offers the bowl and he happily keeps eating with his left hand.
She realizes then that this is the first time she’s spoken with Jinshi in awhile. They didn’t speak at the feast. Before then, they hadn’t seen each other for over a week. A pang of something like loneliness afflicts her chest.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, her voice much quieter than intended.
“The pain is receding,” Jinshi reports. He takes a goji berry and holds it up to Maomao’s mouth. “And you?”
She takes the berry with her teeth alone. “You don’t need to worry after me. You’re the patient.”
“Right…” The reminder seems to deflate Jinshi. He settles against the mountain of pillows. Even laid up as he is, he is lovely to look at. “All that really happened.” Jinshi grimaces. Maomao can’t begin to imagine what he had to endure, how much pain he was flooded with, what terrors will surely haunt him from now on. “I must have put you through a lot. I’m sorry.” It seems, though, that his mind remains preoccupied with her, even now.
“I told you not to worry after me.” Maomao takes a few berries for herself. She hears him chuckle softly.
Together, they finish the bowl. For once, Maomao wants to talk more, yet nothing comes to her mind. Jinshi, meanwhile, appears more tired with each bite. By the time there’s only a handful of dried berries left, he’s nearly asleep again. Maomao takes the last bites and goes to leave the bowl with the other fruits. She blows out the candles and considers her next step.
She should sleep on the chair or the floor, now. But she doubts she would have heard him earlier, had she been so far away. No, beside him is best. Maomao slips under the blanket, nice and warm beneath its protective cover.
“Staying?” Jinshi mumbles.
“I’m staying,” Maomao whispers.
“Forever?” he asks like it’s a joke.
“Until you’re better,” she answers cooly.
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warsamongthestars · 5 months ago
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A headcanon of headcanons for your CF99 day.
( CF99 is Clone Force 99. Because if I said Bad Batch, it could be confused for the TBBshow--and meesa gots some personal beef with dat. So… CF99. Plus, the acronym just sounds cooler. )
WHEN WRECKER WAS INJURED, THE OTHERS GOT THEIR TATTOOS
Judging by Wrecker's head, more than likely, a bomb or similar blast had gone off in his face. It pulverized his eye, probably the hearing on that side too. I generally think part of his enhancement is that he has unbreakable bones, hence why his skull is fine.
He has a cybernetic eye, similar to the one that Commander Wolffe has, so this occurred the first year of the Clone Wars.
Because of the severe scaring, the eye and the event that might've cost Wrecker his life--it brought the team closer together, and Hunter, and by extension Crosshair, showed solidarity.
Brothers first, Mission Second, Orders third, and be damned to the Regs.
Hunter showed this solidarity and new closeness, by getting his infamous tattoo, same side of the head and face as Wrecker's scarring. Just as Wrecker's scar is the entire half, so was Hunter's tattoo.
( Plus, it was a personal step. Hunter has always been torn when it comes to Regs and even Civilians and Officials. He looks Normal, and thus they consider him the Normal one up until he Isn't--then its far worse treatment than just being rejected from the start. Hunter had learned a hard lesson about the pettiness of people, any people: They want your appearance to inform your personality, and they don't like being wrong, even though they are simply reacting to their own misinformed, petty and shallow judgement.)
( So, Hunter will be damned certain to give a "good" first impression, from now on. May the tattoos make the man. If someone is only going to judge things skin-deep, then they weren't worth associating with and its best to get it out of the way on the first impression )
( And who knows, Hunter would think, It would be worth proving someone wrong. )
Crosshair followed close behind. But Crosshair has always been afflicted with SEVERE PRACTICALITY. A tattoo for solidarity is all well and good until you've colored half your face like a harvest day decoration.
He knows Hunter's reasons. They're good reasons for Hunter. They're just not Crosshair's reasons.
So Crosshair gets a reticle around his dominant eye. Of course the lines cross his eyelid--he was practical, not a coward; if every clone can do it, so would he--But if he needed to, he could always cover it with makeup. Tattoos tend to personal identifiers, and he didn't want to give the Seppies or any other adversary time to have a list of personal descriptors.
( "If they don't catch you at all, it doesn't matter what's on your face", said Hunter, "And if they did catch you, then it wouldn't matter in the end anyway."
"Spoken like someone stuffed with straw and painted to scare birds away," said Crosshair.
Hunter threw wadded old socks at him. )
Tech doesn't care for facial tattoos, and he still maintains the soft roundness that would otherwise be called Baby Fat in clones so no amount of tattoo would work…
Instead, he opted to tattoo every area on his body that has suffered a bone break, with "symbolic imagery".
A few ribs here, where the "symbolic image" of them appear to be broken by an invisible lightning bolt. A leg here, with a "disruption" that appears similarly to the spikes on a soundwave monitor (the leg had been broken in three places near the knee during training). One arm here, depicted as a kind of semi-puzzle game. (The arm had been broken from an incident with an automatic door. )
And of course, it wouldn't be Tech if he didn't add small descriptions of what each one meant, what caused it, and when along side each tattoo…. In the star wars equivalency of esperanto.
( "It simply would not do if our adversaries got a hold of me and knew were all my structural weaknesses were at," said Tech, "So I wrote my descriptions in a constructed language that was created several hundred years ago by--"
"You… refer to your broken bones as structural weaknesses," drawled Crosshair, "…Of course you do."
"If you're worried about the enemy, You don't have to write your descriptions, you can just… tell people what happened, in your own words," said Hunter, "Make a conversation out of it."
"Nonsense, it is medically efficient if my body was ever recovered by a friendly command," said Tech, "and I would not have to tell anyone, I wrote it all down as needed."
"… Let's not talk about one of us dying," said Hunter.
"Too soon," said Crosshair. )
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timeforbedwolfstar · 7 days ago
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I Solemnly Swear that I am Up to No Good - The Friendship
Enjoy this next chapter of my Marauders fic! The brainrot is real, guys …
Finding Home will be updated this week, likely on Wednesday. The first chapter of the DPS x Marauders fic will be released on Friday.
Chapter 2: Boys and Trains
Wednesday, September 1, 1971
“Now remember,” Remus’ mother said, fussing over the clasp of his cloak, “don’t tell anyone about . . . the werewolf problem.” She whispered the last few words, adjusting his hood so it fell just right over his back. He could thank her OCD for that. Or maybe it was just his mother’s anxiety at being separated from her son for the first time in eleven years. 
It was clear from the moment she’d woken up that morning that it would be an emotional day for Hope Lupin. To be fair, most days were emotional for her. But this year, on September first, 1971, she could start a new chapter of her life. One where she didn’t have to worry so much about her werewolf son. One where she could focus on herself. One where she could heal the rift between her and her husband, Remus’ father, Lyall. 
Or so Remus thought. But what did he know about the inner workings of his mother? 
A surprising amount, he reminded himself. Living with only his parents for company for the past six years would do that to a person. 
You’re not a person, he told himself scathingly. You’re a bloody werewolf. They're not the same. 
But oh, how he wished they could be. 
After tuning out his mum, who was telling him every single thing that he must remember to do (“Don’t forget about laundry, make sure you eat at least three times a day, . . .”), Remus stood studying the people around them. There was one boy, with messy black hair and glasses, writhing away from a woman with the same black hair pulled back in a messy bun atop her head. The father, a tall, weedy sort of man, glanced around with a happy smile on his face, and wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders. 
“— and  don’t forget about the moon on Sunday —” 
The full moon. The same moon that had given him the werewolf curse six years ago. The one that had left him with a horrible scar on his left shoulder, from the wolf that had nearly killed him. 
And it would have, too, if Lyall hadn’t been so quick. 
Remus shook off his thoughts as his mother wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. “I love you, fy mab.” 
“Dw i'n dy garu di hefyd, Mam,” Remus replied. “See you at Christmas.” 
Hope gave him a sad smile, then nodded and stepped back. Remus picked up his battered, secondhand trunk and lugged it to the train as the last whistle blew. 
He waved at his mum from the window, watching as tears rolled down her face. He felt a pang of grief and longed to go back in time, to refuse Dumbledore’s offer, to be homeschooled by his parents like they’d planned all this time. 
But it wasn’t to be. 
On the train, Remus found himself lost and alone. He didn’t know anyone going to Hogwarts this year. His condition had made it impossible to make friends. 
Oh, he wanted to. He wanted to be able to have friends, to talk with others his own age, to be around kids who didn’t care about his affliction. Once upon a time, a normal life might have been possible for him. But his fate had already been decided, many long years ago.
Making up his mind, he started to drag his trunk down the train in a random direction. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he was going somewhere. He had to be. 
He was lucky. Towards the back of the train, he found a mostly empty compartment. A girl sat there, with bright red hair. She wore her Hogwarts robes already, and Remus guessed she’d changed just before sitting down. Or she’d been wearing her robes on the platform. Anything was possible, really. 
“Hey,” he said softly, knocking on the wall. “Is it okay if I sit here?” 
Without turning her head, the girl nodded. Remus sat down awkwardly as far from the girl as he could. He didn’t much like girls, but he attributed most of that to his limited contact with them. Other than his mam and the grandma next door (What’ll we say to her, Remus thought, when I don’t come see her for months?), he hadn’t had much contact with the opposite sex. 
He blamed his father for that. 
It wasn’t his fault, Remus told himself firmly. 
But . . . it might as well have been. 
Lyall Lupin had left their small family years ago. Not physically. He still lived with them. But mentally, he was distant, cold, uncaring toward his wife and son. Remus wanted his mother to heal the rift that had grown in six years’ cold time. But, logically, he knew, it wasn’t likely to happen. His father simply didn’t work that way. 
As he sat there, staring off into the distance, the door opened again. A pudgy-looking boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed in Muggle clothing under his robes, knocked on the wooden frame. “Can I sit here? Only, I’ve got a friend who’s coming, too.” 
“I don’t mind,” said Remus. “Come in.” 
It turned out that his friend was the boy Remus had seen on the platform. “I’m James,” he said, by way of introduction. He held out his hand to Remus, who shook it carefully. He had learned that the nice ones always turned on him in the end. 
The pudgy boy, whose name was Peter, was friendly, and Remus found he got on well with him. At first glance, it seemed, Peter and his friend, James Potter, had a complicated relationship. 
Peter and James were neighbours, and very close ones at that. When Peter started to display magical signs, James’ parents took him and Peter’s sister under their wing in place of their neglectful parents. Mr. and Mrs. Potter had played the parental role in Peter’s childhood, and fostered a close friendship between him and James. Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew had not been around for many years. 
The boys were a great source of entertainment. James was funny, with a new joke every few minutes, and a constant source of laughter. Peter was quiet, but sometimes chipped in and lit up the compartment with his witty retorts. Remus could see why James liked him so much. 
Against his will, he began to like the boy, as well. Maybe we could have been friends, in another life. 
The compartment door opened again, bringing with it another boy. He had short black hair, stormy, lightning-grey eyes, and flashy, brand-new Hogwarts robes that fitted him perfectly. 
“Can I sit here?” he said, in a voice so high-and-mighty it made Remus laugh aloud. 
“You’re one of those posh ones, aren’t you?” 
Translations
fy mab — my son
Dw i'n dy garu di hefyd, Mam — I love you too, Mum
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winterinhimring · 1 year ago
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Post-NWH Raimiverse Headcanons
(These may or may not be relevant to a fic I am writing, but that's some time in the future. For now, I have all sorts of thoughts on how the Raimiverse will change after the cured villains make their return and so I must inflict those thoughts on all of you.)
Oscorp now has the best lab safety regulations of any corporation in the business. Period. They're light-years ahead of the current standards. Depending on who you ask, this was either Norman's last act as CEO before he stepped back for Unspecified Health Reasons, or Harry's first. Both of these theories suggest some interesting things.
Within the company, theories about What Is Wrong With The Osborns run rampant. Norman just sets off people's danger instincts now, because people his age aren't supposed to move like Olympic-level gymnasts - Peter can get away with being inhumanly flexible because he's a teenager and adults tend to expect teenagers to be capable of some slightly inhuman feats anyway; Norman less so. He can also see a little too well in the dark, and he periodically pops up in places he shouldn't really have been able to get to. It doesn't help that he's usually in those places to terrorise people whose lab safety standards are slipping. "Dad, stop scaring the interns" / "I just want to make sure nobody falls into an experiment and becomes a villain" is an exchange that Norman and Harry have had multiple times.
The theories range from "Norman is a vampire" through "Norman was in a lab accident and wound up able to teleport, but can't control it, so Harry stepped up so nobody would see his dad accidentally disappearing from board meetings" to "The Green Goblin was the result of an accident testing the performance enhancers and Norman hunted him down but had to take the enhancers himself to beat him and it broke his health".
(There are also, of course, theories that are uncomfortably close to the truth. Generally, what happens is that an older employee quietly takes the person who has put the pieces together aside and says, 'yes, you think you've figured it out, but think very carefully about whether you want to *say* it in front of the legal team *and* the possibly-not-quite-human former CEO'. The theorist invariably decides that discretion is the better part of valour.)
Harry does not unsettle people in himself. Harry is shockingly normal and while he can be a bit of a brat on occasion, he's usually very nice. However, people are a little scared of him anyway, because he treats his weird freaky cryptid dad like a perfectly normal person.
When Otto Octavius comes back from his little jaunt into another universe and lands in a destroyed warehouse after nearly wrecking half of New York, Oscorp's second defining feature, after the lab safety, becomes their terrifyingly effective legal team. A lot of precedents about the humane treatment of enhanced individuals are set, and ultimately they get Otto off with a pretty light sentence owing to the whole 'four AIs were controlling his brain' thing. Also, Rosie Octavius survives in this world (because she just does, okay? I'm appealing to the butterfly effect because...just imagine her bonding with May and MJ. It's a wonderful thought).
Once Otto has served his time, he becomes Peter's Science Enabler Uncle. They get along like a house on fire and are an absolute pair of holy terrors. Multiple things have been set on fire in the Octavius (and also the Osborn) house because of them. (So, so many things.)
Rosie, May, MJ, and Harry form the 'not a scientist but afflicted with a scientist dad/husband/nephew/best friend' club and stay over at each others' houses when one of their residences is temporarily uninhabitable because Otto and Peter were doing late night science, or Otto and *Norman* were poking the arc reactor that Otto brought back from the other universe and made a fire. Or because someone had the bright idea of cannibalising a small appliance for a robotics project and now the toaster is no longer functional.
Rosie and MJ are especially good friends and get into long, involved literary discussions which Peter and Otto are utterly baffled by. Even Harry, who's pretty well-read, can't keep up with them once they really get going. Peter and Otto are very proud.
At some point, a Conversation is had about Curt Connors. ('WHAT DO YOU MEAN PETER'S PROFESSOR IS GOING TO TURN HIMSELF INTO A LIZARD?' MJ shouts. 'I didn't say he was *going* to, I said we should keep an eye on him.' 'That...is really not very reassuring.')
And everyone lives happily ever after, to the end of their days.
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dragonnwriter · 6 months ago
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Inviolable Bindings
Aemondxfem!OC and Aegonxfem!OC
All Chapters Here!
Chapter 43
Allowing the girls to guide her to the bathing room, Viserra concealed her annoyance as the guards insisted on following. They stepped into the steam-filled chamber and she was keenly aware of the men's presence. No longer could she hold her tongue as she felt the irritation boiling just under her skin.
“Surely even under the close watch of the crown, a highborn lady is afforded the privacy to bathe without an audience,” she spoke with irritation.
The guards exchanged a look and for a moment, she thought they might refuse to leave. Ultimately, they stepped out of the room, waiting close, just outside the door. A relieved sigh left her mouth as she felt herself relax without the pressing eyes of men.
Once emerged in the water, the soothing warmth and the company of a familiar face almost made her feel as if things had not changed so drastically. After a few moments, one of the girls left, leaving Cassella the only one in her presence.
Leaning in close, her voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke. “Keep your wits about you tonight. If someone is to reach out, be ready to follow whatever they might propose.” Cassella scanned the door with her eyes as she spoke, ensuring that the communication went unnoticed.
Viserra nodded subtly, feeling her chest tighten with anticipation. “I understand,” she replied, ceasing the conversation. The thought that there was something in the works to free her from this place was both exciting and overwhelming. She knew that there were close eyes on her and she would have to place full trust in others in hopes that it would not backfire.
After the bath, Viserra returned to her chambers, escorted as was usual. The girls took their time readying her for the night, donning her in a gown she did not have any say in and fixing her hair in an updo of sorts.
The maroon gown was of traditional Westerosi style yet it fit her in all the right places. Her ribs had healed considerably since the initial insult but she was pleased that the clothing did not press too hard on the afflicted area. Overall, she found she looked just as the other Ladies of the court there, nothing special, yet nowhere near anything bland.
After she was readied, Viserra was made to sit alone in her rooms. Each moment was filled with her attempting to talk herself down. Her mind replayed the interaction she had with Cassella and the anticipation of what this night might bring.
When the door finally opened for her escort to the feast, she was greatly displeased to find Daemon there, smug as ever. She suppressed the urge to display her disdain, instead taking in a long breath and trying to hold onto the knowledge that she would soon have a cup of wine in her hands that would calm her nerves.
“You are to escort me to the feast?” She inquired. “Do the guards not suffice for the evening?”
Daemon’s reply was dismissive as usual, his tone laced with the very arrogance that defined him. “It is my nameday feast, I will escort whomever I please,” he retorted.
Biting back her frustration, she realized that expressing any further disapproval would do her no good. She reluctantly accepted his offered arm, her skin wanting to melt away from the contact.
“You clean up nicely,” he observed, sparing only a moment to look her up and down.
She met his words with a forced smile, the comment only adding her dislike of the man.
As they made their way to the great hall, Viserra could feel the burning eyes upon them. The last feast she had attended here had been after Aemond returned from Storm’s End, making this now all seem so surreal. The memory now seemed distant, like a past life that had been put behind her many moons ago.
Rhaenyra was already seated at the high table, watching intently as her king consort arrived with another woman on his arm. Being sat directly to the side of her, she felt oddly vulnerable. Giving Rhaenyra a respectable bow, she was pleased she responded with a nod.
“I trust you will find the evening to your liking,” she remarked, her tone hinting that the statement was more of a command.
Viserra sat down before turning to her and smiling. “Of course, Your Grace,” she replied. “I appreciate the opportunity to enjoy myself for the evening.”
A cup of wine was poured in front of her and she quickly turned her attention to it. The first mission of the night was to ease her nerves in anticipation of what might come. Quietly, she stayed seated, watching as the courses were served and the wine flowed freely.
A toast had been given by Rhaenyra, inviting everyone to join her in celebrating Daemon’s nameday and the promise of endless wine, food and entertainment. Viserra remained there for the entirety of the feast, not wishing to draw unneeded attention. She was mindful in her cups as well, aware that keeping a clear head would be the most wise.
As the night progressed, a few guests approached her with an invitation to dance. She declined each one gracefully, not wishing to force any more interactions. However, one of the young men came to her a second time, this time though, addressing not just Viserra, but Rhaenyra as well.
“Your Grace,” he bowed. “Might I ask you for Lady Viserra’s hand in this dance?”
“Lord…” Rhaenyra paused, scanning his face in an attempt to recognize him.
“Lord Owen Royce, Your Grace,” he responded quickly.
“Yes, Lord Owen Royce,” she smiled. “I see no reason to deny such a request.” Looking to Viserra, it was clear she expected her to oblige the man’s request.
Without being able to refuse this time, Viserra forced a nod and allowed the lord to lead her down the floor. She did not attempt to make any conversation on the way there, not wanting to make an already unpleasant thing any worse.
As they took their place among the others lined up to dance, he kept his expression but spoke IN a low voice. “I trust your bath was to your liking?”
The mention of  earlier piqued her interest, realizing that this man might have been so persistent because he was there to help. “Yes, it was wonderful. The best I have felt in a long while.”
They moved together to the music, the steps of the dance bringing them occasionally close. As he guided her through a turn, bringing her flush to him, he murmured quietly in her ear. “Do not turn down any advances tonight, even those that might seem most unwelcome.”
Viserra hummed in acknowledgment. But before she could probe any further, he continued on.
“And whatever you do, do not turn down any cup of wine that is offered to you before the night ends.”
It was the last thing said between them, and as soon as the dance had begun, it was now over. Viserra was escorted back to the high table where the lord gave another bow to his queen. His instructions had been clear and she could feel her heart racing with anticipation for whatever it had meant. She needed to stay alert and prepared, but the unknown of the night kept her on edge.
The atmosphere in the hall shifted as most became overwhelmingly consumed by the free flowing wine. Rhaenyra seemed to tire quickly of it all. She supposed the drinks did not seem to give her the same boost it did to others, causing her to retire rather than join in amongst the chaos.
Rising from her seat, she gave Viserra a long look. “I will see you on the morrow,” she stated with a sigh. Before departing, she whispered something to one of the guards, who then looked at Viserra and quickly took up a position uncomfortably close to her proximity.
Viserra rolled her eyes at the towering guard. But when she looked across the table to find Daemon relaxing in his chair, she realized his attention was solely focused on her. An uneasy feeling washed over her, realizing the guard was going to be the least of her problems.
“It is quite nice to be out drinking in company again, do you agree?” He asked, his voice pleasant yet hinting at something darker. “Shame the only one you chose to dance with was a Royce boy.” The way he had said the name made it clear it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Actually, Lord Royce was a fine partner,” she rebutted. “I just do not care much for dancing.”
Daemon’s reaction was quick, sitting up straighter and his eyes narrowing slightly. “You should be grateful the Queen did not impose a curfew on you with her own return to her rooms.”
Viserra felt her defenses tighten as he grew visibly irritated. “Actually, I do believe it is time for me to retire,” she announced while standing from the table. Briefly, she glanced to the guard behind her who moved out of her way yet looked as if he had full intentions to continue following.
Daemon’s smirk returned to his face as he met her eyes. “Of course,” he spoke, taking a stand as well. His next words were directed at the guard. “I will escort the lady back to her chambers, you may be dismissed.” He waved him away with his hand and to Viserra’s dismay, the guard nodded and stepped back.
In the brief moment before either of them had a chance to start on their way, they were interrupted by two servants holding full decanters of wine. Viserra smiled politely, reaching for the cup on the table and holding it out to be filled. The young lord’s words were still fresh in her mind and she did not hesitate to put faith in his instructions. She watched as Daemon too, accepted the refill, bringing the cup to his lips before consuming it all within seconds.
With a deep breath, Viserra emptied her own cup and hurried to distance herself from Daemon. Yet even a few paces ahead, she could feel the weight of his gaze as it burned into her back.
As they exited the Great Hall, the quiet of the castle muffled the busyness of the feast they left behind. It did not take Daemon long to catch up to her and maintain himself only an arms length away. Though she was grateful for the few feet between them, his presence was still smothering.
“I am glad to see you understand the importance of appearance in front of the court,” he spoke, his voice breaking the heavy silence she had enjoyed up until this point.
Viserra responded with a smile that she hoped did not reveal her annoyance. “Is there a reason to think I would not?”
Daemon let out a laugh and in one quick motion, she found herself being pushed against the cold wall. His hands slammed on the stone next to her head, realizing she did not have much of a chance to escape.
A sharp breath left her mouth and she closed her eyes to collect her wits. Her mind raced through every possibility she could think of to either distract or dissuade the man in front of her. Realizing she had truly been backed into a corner, she felt a wave of dread that did not mix well with the cup of wine sloshing in her belly.
“I am not foolish enough to put blind trust in you as the Queen has,” he spoke, his breath hot on her face. “It will take far longer to earn that trust, my dear.”
“I did not expect you to blindly trust me,” she rebutted. “I too agree that trust is to be earned and I intend to keep on that path.”
Daemon’s eyes narrowed slightly, looking over her face for evidence she was not telling the truth. “Very well,” he conceded. “The only thing I am absolutely sure of is the legitimacy of your Valyrian blood. Just look at you.” His hand came up to move a strand of hair from her cheek.
Viserra closed her eyes again in an attempt to tolerate the gesture but she found that her stomach seemed to twist instead. Whether his words were meant to disarm or actually compliment her, she was unsure. But what she did know was that it was all unwanted and she felt herself losing the battle to her own anger.
“Do not touch me,” she spoke low and between clenched teeth. She could not hold her tongue.
Yet, her demand went unheard as Daemon grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look up into his eyes. The cool sweat beaded at her brow as it furrowed in defiance. She did not hesitate to knock his hand from her face before turning away, leaning with one arm against the wall.
Suddenly, she felt the saliva pooling in the back of her throat, and before she could even attempt at holding it back, she vomited on the cobblestone under her. She felt shaky, her breathing heavy and uneven, muscles weak and it took considerable effort not to let them collapse under her.
Viserra had been careful to not partake in too much wine, or at least she had thought. But then it dawned on her. Was it the last cup she had been instructed not to decline? Had this been some sort of test of her loyalty to Rhaenyra and the result was poisoning?
“A high born Volantene woman unable to hold her wine?” Daemon chuckled. “I will say that it is quite surprising.”
Viserra ignored his comment, focusing on the sharp pains throughout the entirety of her belly and the dizziness forming in her head. Slowly, she let herself drop down to her knees. Her body convulsed again and her stomach now felt completely empty.
The silence coming from behind her would have been alarming if she hadn’t been so busy trying to hold herself together. Daemon rolled his eyes, still dismissing her as if she were unable to hold her wine. “I truly did not expect you to have such a delicate constitution.”
The soft cladder of boots echoed down the hallway and as Viserra looked up, she saw two guards passing through on their rounds.
“Fetch a maester.” Daemon commanded with irritation, roughly grabbing Viserra’s upper arm and pulling her up and to her feet.
The sudden movement caused Viserra’s head to spin and her vision blackened for a moment. She thought back to the last time she felt so poorly, but could not remember a time since coming down with a fever and sickness in childhood.
Her feet moved in a disorganized manner as Daemon carried most of her weight while dragging her through the rest of the halls to her rooms. He set her down onto the bed without much care, then towered over her while she grappled with the bile now burning her throat. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on slowing her breathing to curb even just a tiny bit of the nausea.
“Seems you have ruined the rest of our evening,” he remarked with irritation.
Viserra grit her teeth but did not refute his words. She was not sure if her biggest worry should be that she might be poisoned or that she was now in a much more vulnerable position and because of it.
After a few long minutes, the maester’s appearance was one that was more than welcomed.
“Your Grace, Grand Maester Gerardys has sent me to be of your service, how might I help?” The man spoke.
“Sober her up, there is still much more of the night to enjoy.” Daemon’s words left no room for discussion.
Immediately coming to the bedside, the Maester handed her a small cloth for her mouth and offered her a worried look. Viserra did not hesitate to take it from him and use it to wipe the vomit from her chin.
The maester stood and turned back to Daemon, giving him a small bow. “Please, Your Grace, enjoy your festivities. I will seek you out once she is ready to rejoin the feast.”
Daemon shot him a sharp look for a moment before turning it to Viserra. “Make sure of it,” he spat before taking his leave from the room.
Once he was gone, the maester quickly shut the door behind him and then turned back to Viserra, his rushed movements indicating there was more than he let on. When he returned to her side, he glanced towards the door to make sure they were truly alone and then pulled a small vial from his pocket.
“I see you accepted the wine that was offered,” he whispered urgently. “I apologize for the discomfort, though I could not think of another way to manage this all.”
Viserra felt the bile rising in her throat again and she furrowed her brow as he spoke. “It is indeed poison then.”
“We do not have much time,” he replied, ignoring her statement. “This will ease most of the nausea within minutes, but we need to act quickly.”
Viserra nodded, not seeing any other option than to trust this man. She drank down the bitter liquid and for a moment, thought the taste of it might cause her to vomit all on its own. But almost immediately, the nausea began to recede.
“Thank you,” she breathed, handing him back the empty vial.
Looking over his shoulder once more, the maester helped her to her feet and then pulled a bundle of clothing from his bag. “Put these on, you need to change quickly. We must move you out of here while everyone’s attention is still on the feast.”
Viserra did not delay, changing into plain clothing with the realization that she still felt weak and somewhat unwell. When the maester stepped forwards again, he helped wrap her head in a scarf, masking the move obvious of her recognizable features.
Viserra watched as he moved with intention, picking her gown up off the floor and feeding it to the fire. He then took her by the hand, dragging her to the door and knocked on it twice. It swung open almost immediately and to Viserra’s surprise, Cassella stood in the doorway. She had so many questions about who each of them really were, but truthfully she was not sure she’d get the chance to ask.
“I will explain when there is time.” Cassella addressed, almost like she had read her mind. “But right now, we need to move. The guards will be posted back within minutes.”
Viserra nodded, understanding the urgency and she did not hesitate to follow them both out of the room. The familiar hallways were the most unwelcoming they had ever felt and they all were careful to keep their steps quiet and presence hidden. Navigating through many of the servants' corridors, they finally made it to a large storage room filled with both new and empty wine barrels.
The maester turned to Viserra, his voice low yet urgent. “Get inside and do not make noise no matter what happens,” he warned.
Viserra hesitated, the reality sinking in that she could not fail in this escape. But before she could make a move to climb in, she watched as he climbed up and inside another one of the barrels.
“You will be received outside of the gates and you must head north quickly.” Cassella explained. “Tell no one who you are until you reach Harrenhal.”
“Harrenhal?” Viserra asked.  Of course, joining Aemond would be one of the only safe places for her to go. “But my dragon.”
“You cannot go to your dragon,” she responded sternly.
“I cannot leave him here.” Viserra retorted.
“There is no other option. You must go, return with Prince Aemond and take back both the castle and your dragon.”
Viserra let out a frustrated grunt but quickly realized there was not another option. She climbed into the barrel and watched as darkness surrounded her and the lid was sealed tight. The confined space stunk of old wine and she found the wood to be quite uncomfortable. Though grateful that she was feeling overall much better, the whole thing did not quell the remaining nausea that still pulled at her stomach.
Cassella’s footsteps faded away as she sat in a long moment of silence. Eventually, other voices were heard and the barrel was lifted and placed on a handcart. As she was pushed back throughout the castle, she tried to pay attention to the occasional muffle of conversations but they were barely decipherable over the wheels on the cobblestone.
Suddenly, the barrel was hoisted up and she felt an overwhelming disorientation with the movement. The sound of horses confirmed they were indeed outside and as the cart jolted forward and the thud of hooves on the ground continued on, she braced herself for the unpleasant ride.
The journey out of the city’s walls took well over an hour and Viserra struggled to keep her composure. The space was incredibly cramped and the residual nausea was only worsened as her body heat could not find a means to escape. Occasionally, she brought her mouth to a small hole in the barrel, taking in a few breaths of cool air before settling back down.
After what felt like an eternity, the cart finally came to a stop. She heard the driver’s feet hit the gravel and walk away before leaving them in silence for a few moments. The sound of returning voices came with more footsteps until she felt her barrel offloaded and carried to a new location.
The lid was finally pried open and Viserra took in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air rushing in. A large man extended his hand to help her out and she found herself happy to take it. As she stepped out, her body was uncomfortably stiff and aching from the long confinement. Looking around, she realized they were behind a small structure that looked something like a tavern, likely a regular stop for food and wine exchanges.
Viserra watched as they moved onto opening the other barrel. The man who had acted as  a maester emerged, looking just as uncomfortable as she had.
“We have the horses ready as instructed.” The large man spoke, addressing the maester. He then handed over a pack and two swords in their scabbards.
Viserra looked between them, cautiously observing the interaction.
“We must leave now,” the maester said urgently, handing Viserra one of the swords.
Securing the blade to her hip as they began walking to the horses, she caught his eye. “Are you truly a maester?” She asked, knowing the truth of the answer already.
“Call me Robbet,” he revealed. “I trained for a short time at the Citadel, but it was not the path I was meant to be on. Though now is not the time for such small talk.”
Viserra nodded, quickly untying one of the horses and climbing up into the saddle. While she respected his declination for further interrogation, her mind was working wildly to try and figure out who exactly he was.
With a loud click, Robbet nudged his horse into a gallop and Viserra followed in suit. The rush of air on her face while on horseback was more than refreshing, thankfully helping the last of the nausea finally cease. She was grateful that she had escaped King’s Landing and most of all evaded whatever Daemon thought he had in store for her that night.
However, it was not lost to her that she was in fact leaving Rhyn. That realization quickly dampened the brief moment of relief, leaving her feeling somewhat distraught and vulnerable. Without him, she would be fully dependent on her own skill, even if facing another on dragonback. Despite this, she understood that everyone’s best chance was weighted on her reuniting with Aemond to take King’s Landing together. She would have to find peace with that thought, hoping that it would not be long before she was reunited with those she shared such bonds with.
Author's Note: Sorry for the late update! Had a random bout of adult tonsillitis that led me to getting my tonsils out... (Who knew this could happen to grown ups?!) But I'm back on my writing game and no longer being a huge baby with the tonsil pain and needing to take pain meds to bedrot all day.
Cheers!!!
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