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streetlight11 · 3 years

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Deep Scar

Summary: He used to be the popular kid in high school where everyone has a crush on him. He always gets Valentine's Day gifts be it presents, chocolates, homemade brownies, etc. He somehow brought his name to college where there were people who still finds him attractive. What happens when he bumps into a girl who treated him a lot different compared to others? Will he find out the truth behind her behaviour?

Theme: college au, childhood schoolmates but with a bad past

Genre: a little angsty, fluff ending though

Warnings: mild swearing (literally just one word), slight mention of harassment but nothing too crazy

WC: 4.6k

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hey hey :) I've had this in my google drive for quite sometime so my writing might not be so good here but bear with me. P.S the words in italics are his flashback, and hannie might sound like a jerk at one point but this doesn't portray him in real life because irl he's an absolute sweetheart :') Anyways, enjoy reading!

Coming to campus every morning only to find gifts and plenty of love letters in his locker has been becoming a daily routine for Jisung. Although he has never actually reciprocated any of them, he must admit that he did love the amount of attention that’s been drawn to him since back in high school.

He was the popular kid in school where he was known for his intelligence, charming personality and of course, his good looks.

Back in high school, girls would often slot in their confession letters in his locker almost everyday. Every Valentine’s Day, his table would be filled with chocolates and homemade brownies specially for him.

But all of those gifts would eventually be passed to his close friends for them to finish it for him.

Even now when he’s already in college, words spread around the campus of his status back in Saebom High, making everyone in Hankuk College know about him. Despite this new set of attention that was being directed towards him, he managed to make friends with a few people that he trusts.

Some of them were his classmates in college, some were his friends from music class, and some were his good friends back in high school.

That day was no different as he walked down the hall to go to his designated locker, only to find a pink paper that had been folded into a cute little heart.

“Another love letter? Dude, at this point you should really date one of them so that this whole shenanigan would stop.” Chan said with a soft chuckled as Minho and Jeongin nodded in agreement with the elder boy. Jisung rolled his eyes as he unfolded the paper and read the confession, that was pretty much the same as the other notes he received.

All of which, never got reciprocated simply because Jisung believes he hasn’t found anyone that peaked his interest yet.

After about 5 minutes, he slammed his locker shut as the four boys began to walk down the hall, not missing the constant shy giggles and whispers from every direction. Jisung simply walked with his charming smile plastered on his face, making some girls feel their heart flutter in their chest.

Just when they had made a left turn, a figure smaller than them came crashing straight into Jisung’s shoulder, causing both individuals to stumble back a step from the impact.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass.” The girl who was rubbing her shoulder said as she locked eyes with him firmly. Jisung was slightly baffled as no other girl would even dare to look at him straight in the eye.

“Excuse me?” He said, his voice clearly confused but the girl simply rolled her eyes at him, slightly annoyed.

“You heard me. I don’t have to say it twice.”

“Do you even know who I am?” He asked, slowly starting to feel anger boiling through his veins.

“Do you think I care?” She taunts.

“Other girls would be scrambling away by now.”

“Oh, how exciting. Next time, wear side goggles so you can watch where you’re going.” Was all she said before she shoves past him to continue her journey down the hall to go to her class.

Everyone in that hallway was surprised with their little interaction. Some of them even snickered at her for behaving that way in front of him. As far as he knows, all the girls in school never dared to speak to him in person, nor would they even look at him straight in the eyes for they would either run away in embarrassment, or their face would turn flushed red.

Jisung tried not to think much of it as he continued his walk to his class.

During lunch, the boys had gathered at their usual table. However, Hyunjin and Seungmin were running slightly late this time. They were just a few bites into their meal when Hyunjin’s voice caught everyone at their table’s attention.

“Hey guys! Is it okay if our new friend joins us? She just transferred here so me and Seungmin offered her to have lunch with us.”

At the mention of a female, Jisung whips his head around, only to lock eyes with the same girl he bumped into just a few hours prior.

“You again? Try not to miss your mouth this time when you eat.” She said as her gaze locked on Jisung, leaving him speechless.

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchanged glances at each other in confusion but decided to just carry on with lunch as they ended up sitting with her. If she weren’t too direct, Jisung could almost agree that she was acting quite the opposite towards Hyunjin and Seungmin. Maybe with the others as well. She seemed genuinely friendly and almost effortlessly bright with them.

If he was being honest, it almost upsets him that she treated him like an outcast as compared to the rest of his close friends. Days slowly but surely became weeks as she started to grow visibly close to Hyunjin and Seungmin probably because they were her classmates.

It was a Friday evening and they all decided to go to a pool bar where they had pool tables for people to play and also have light drinks if they wanted to.

They rented out two tables for themselves as they divided into two teams.

“Y/N! Join our team!” Hyunjin called as Y/N giggled, only for her to catch Jisung staring at her from one of the high stools beside the bar.

“I’ll join if he does.”

She said as she nodded her head towards Jisung, only for the others to immediately drag him to Hyunjin’s pool table. The game soon started as Hyunjin served first. She seems to surprise them everytime she serves because all her shots were smooth and almost effortless. It was as if she’s done this multiple times.

“Wow, how are you so good at this?” Seungmin asked as she smiled at him, only to answer his question.

“I guess I’m pretty good at aiming.”

The boy giggled as they watched Hyunjin score a ball. All the while, Jisung was silently watching her by the side.

Not in a creepy way but more like in a confused way. After they finished their one hour at the pool bar, they left to get dinner but she decided to call it a day for her and that she needed to go home to feed her starving kitty.

The boys bid her goodbye as she left, only for Changbin to question his friend.

“Jisung ah, you cannot tell me you’re not the slightest bit intrigued by her…”

With that, Jisung frowned as his mind came swirling back to all the times they’ve hung out with her and gotten to know her better. From all the mean comments tossed at each other like they were flat bread, to the time where she seemed genuinely concerned when Jisung nearly got run over by a speeding truck.

“No… No I’m not.”

Only he knows that it was a total lie but he wasn’t going to admit it to his friends.

His ego was too high for him to easily admit that after all these years of girls trying so hard to win his attention, all he needed was Y/N to come into the picture and that was all it took for him to finally fall for someone.

Nobody needed to know his true feelings for her. He didn’t think it would be much of a big deal so he opted to keep his feelings to himself. It was another week into April, when Chan decided to invite them over to his apartment to hang out and chill on a chilly Saturday. Chan of course included Y/N in the list, hence the reason why she was currently standing outside his apartment door.

She was wearing a brown fitted crop top, her favourite denim ripped skinny jeans, a bomber jacket and her white converse.

She was greeted by Chan as he opened the door wider for her to enter.

She made it inside only to find Felix and Minho challenging each other in a game of Mario Kart Race. Hyunjin, Seungmin and Changbin were busy playing Call Of Duty on their phones. Jisung, Jeongin and Chan were in the kitchen, cooking up some hot kimchi stew.

Y/N took off her jacket as she went to snuggle in between Changbin and Hyunjin, watching them play an intense game of COD.

She was just laying her head on Changbin’s shoulder when he jerked forward, making her body shake as he turned to Hyunjin and high fived him after winning first place. Just then, he noticed the sad pout on her face at the loss of warmth, making him giggle as he sat back down to let her rest her head on his shoulder again before he whispered.

“Sorry baby.” She giggled as she pinched his abs, making him squeak. He laughed as he corrected himself.

“I’m just kidding.”

She smiled as she nuzzled into his shoulder while they were all occupied with doing their own things. A few minutes later, the 3 boys from the kitchen came back to the living room with the pot of kimchi stew and a rice bowl.

However, Y/N didn’t miss the subtle frown on Jisung’s face when he saw her leaning her head against Changbin’s shoulder.

The 9 of them began eating diligently as they fit in almost any possible topic they could think off. After they finished their meal, she offered to wash the dishes since they were all busy. Chan told her not to trouble herself but she insisted on helping him.

She was scrubbing the second last bowl when she heard Jeongin’s voice calling from the living room.

“Noona! Come join us after you’re done washing the dishes okay? We’re gonna play truth or drink!”

“Okay Jeonginie.” She sang in a sing-song tune as she could hear some of them chuckle in the back.

As promised, she joined them after she was done with the last bowl, only to sit in between Minho and Seungmin. They went in a circle starting from Chan. It was in a circle until it reached her, only for Changbin to eagerly raise his hand.

“Oh! Oh! I have a good one!” Changbin said as his inner corner of the lips curved up into a cute smile, making her giggle.

“If you could go back to your past, what is the one thing that you would choose not to do?” His question was good. It was theoretical but good.

Suddenly, her eyes just instantly found Jisung’s soft brown ones as she told them her answer.

“The one thing I would choose not to do? Probably allowing myself to think that whatever people said to me was true.”

The guys started to frown as they asked if something bad happened to her back then but she simply shrugged them off and told them to continue the game. It went on until it was Jisung’s turn, only for Y/N to speak up.

“I have something I wanna ask him.”

This came as a surprise for the others but they let her do the honours anyway.

“Do you remember the girl who confessed to you back in high school?” She said. His eyebrows began to link together as he frowned at her sudden question.

“Huh?”

“The one where you rejected her confession by humiliating her in front of the whole school?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Think harder.” She said.

Suddenly, memories start to flood in his mind like a flash flood.

“H-Hi. I made these for you. I hope you like cupcakes. I k-know a lot of other girls do this for you too, b-but… I-I just thought maybe I should give you something too. I- umm, I like y-you Han Jisung.” The girl confessed as she held out the box filled with her homemade cupcakes that she took time to bake for him the night before.

She bit the inside of her cheeks nervously as she diligently avoided his gaze. Just when she saw his arms reaching out to her thinking he was going to take the box from her, he forcefully smashed the box down making it slip out of her hands.

The students around them began to laugh as Jisung lifted a brow at her.

“Did you really think I’d accept your confession? Look at you. Who would date a girl who ties their hair in pigtails, have her tummy sticking out of her uniform shirt and constantly push the bridge of your spectacles up every 5 minutes? Have you seen yourself in a mirror? Nobody will ever fall for you.”

With that being said, he kicked the metal box away to reveal the fallen cupcakes as he went ahead and stepped on them like it was an insect.

The whole school laughed at her as she ran to the girls bathroom and locked herself in there as she cried her heart out. She was only 13 so it was slightly depressing for her to go through this terrible rejection.

Not only did he reject her in cold blood, he also humiliated her in front of everybody in the process. However, what made her even more upset is the fact that he didn’t seem to feel the slightest bit of remorse for saying those things to her.

That memory was as clear as day as he winced at the thought of how immature he was back then. Nevertheless, he didn’t forget the question he got from Y/N as he went ahead to answer her.

“Yeah… Yeah I remember…”

“Do you remember what you said to her?” Her voice softened as she kept her eyes on him while the rest of them had their eyes trained back and forth between Jisung and her.

“I said… I said she should look at herself in the mirror and that no one will ever fall for her.”

The boys were shocked by how harsh he was to that said girl. Y/N could only smile sadly to him as she slowly continued.

“Do you feel bad saying those things to her now?”

Without much thought, he replied something that broke her heart.

“Why should I?” With that, she tried to hold back her tears as she looked at him dead in the eye before saying these next few words.

“Looks like you’re still that same cocky bastard huh?”

She soon got up from her seat on the floor, only to grab her things to leave when Jisung stood up to grab her wrist, stopping her from taking any more steps further.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, now genuinely confused as to what was going on.

“You’re really dense for someone as arrogant as you.” A scoff left her lips as her eyes bore into his, hoping he understood what she meant. After what felt like forever, Jisung finally realized as it was as though his life just flashed before his eyes.

“Wait… that was you?!” His voice was loud as it was laced with confusion and slight disappointment.

“And what happens if I say yes? Are you gonna ask me if I’ve looked into the mirror and realize that no one will ever fall for me?”

Her words stinged like venoms as he winced yet again but this time, at how hurt she seemed. She didn’t realise this but her tears were no longer held back as a few droplets rolled down her cheeks.

“Your words hurted me back then. So I tried to ignore it and move on. But when you said your answer just now, I realized that maybe you really are just an arrogant jerk.”

She finally pulled her arm out of his grasp as she left without sparing a glance to the others. Jisung has never felt so utterly remorseful, today was the first time. He mentally scolded himself for saying those words back when he was young and immature.

He has never felt so fucked up before, this was definitely the first.

A few days went by, Y/N hasn’t talked to either of the boys, not even Hyunjin and Seungmin. Every time Jisung tried to reach out to her, she would always successfully avoid him. It has been almost 2 weeks since they last talked to her as the boys agreed to go release their stress by going to the downtown club.

They had booked a booth for all 8 of them as they sat in there with some girls coming back and forth to try and get laid with either one of them.

Just then, Jisung’s eyes seemed to scan the room only to see a familiar figure dancing freely on the dance floor. He frowned as he rubbed his eyes to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on him.

He double confirmed that it was in fact Y/N, as he got up and left the booth ignoring the boy’s calls.

Right when he was about to reach the dance floor, he saw her deliberately get dragged through the sweaty, intoxicated humans and towards the back door. He followed them close behind as he saw her struggling to free herself from the man’s hold.

The minute she was out the back, the man pushed her against the brick wall as he attacked her neck forcefully.

“Stop!” She begged.

The man ignored as he started to caress her waist and moved up.

“Stop it!” She tried again as tears started to roll down her cheeks desperately.

The minute she managed to put a distance between herself and the man, the metal back door swung open harshly only for her to lock eyes with Jisung as he rushed down the steps, only to land a solid punch to the man’s jaw.

The man fell to the ground drunkenly as he struggled to stand back up.

“What the fuck man? Get your own girl!” The man said as he grabbed Y/N’s wrist and was about to pull her when Jisung roughly shoved him off again.

The man threw a few drunk punches to Jisung and soon they were both in a fist fight. The two males were starting to have blood clots and bruises all over their bodies and faces when Hyunjin and Changbin came to stop the fight.

“Jisung! Jisung! That’s enough!” Hyunjin yelled as they both grabbed Jisung by his arms and pulled him back.

“Don’t ever touch her again.” Jisung growled as the man stumbled back into the club.

Y/N frowned as she visibly hugged herself, only to see Hyunjin and Changbin give Jisung a subtle nod before they both went back inside, giving privacy to Jisung and Y/N. Once they were alone in the dark alley, that’s when she spoke up.

“Why did you come? Afraid someone might fall for me?”

“You clearly weren't comfortable with him.”

“So what? Why do you care? It’s not like he would fall in love with me. Who am I for someone to even like me? Right?”

Jisung frowned as he called out her name softly but she was quick to intercept.

“I didn’t go to Hankuk to get back at you for what you did to me. Never in a million years did I think I’d even see you again. But now that you’re standing here in front of me, that very day comes back to haunt me again. Because of your words, I have been so afraid of falling for someone, even just a tiny crush. That’s what you did to me Han Jisung and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”

With that being said, she turned in her heels and left. Jisung stood there like an idiot as he cursed himself for letting her walk away yet again.

If this happened back in high school, he would probably laugh at her. But now that he was actually starting to like her, he has never felt so upset and disappointed. This was probably even worse than a break up.

She refused to speak to him for days after as she avoided everyone in the friend group.

It was a gloomy Friday night as she was laying on her couch sideways, watching a sappy romantic movie to drown her sadness. She was wearing a loose sweater that made it look like a dress on her. Her calf high socks and a pair of shorts she always wore to sleep.

She had just thought about what she could get for supper when there was a knock on her door.

“Who the hell comes at a time like this?” She thought to herself as she went over to her door and opened it without checking the peephole first. She almost stumbled as she locked eyes with the same pair of brown orbs that she’s been trying so hard to avoid for the past few weeks.

“Jisung? What are you doing here?” She asked, genuinely shocked at how he knew her address.

“Y/N, can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Please just hear me out. I don’t need you to say anything, I just need you to listen.”

She fell silent for a moment before she opened the door wider for him to enter. Once inside, he followed her to her living room, only for them to sit 3 feet apart. She urged him with a slight nod as he took a deep breath and soon began.

“Look. I know whatever I did to you back then was horrible. It was my ego talking. I didn’t know any better. We were so young… How could I possibly feel bad at the time when all I thought was to reject you?”

Just then, she cut him in by saying something that made him rethink his choices.

“You’re telling me that everything you said to me meant nothing to you just because it wasn’t you who received it?”

“I… I wasn’t thinking. I was young-”

“Bullshit. Even a 5 year old kid knows what’s nice and what’s hurtful to say to others. Don’t pull the young card on me.”

“Y/N please-”

“Get out. If you’re still gonna be the same arrogant, highly egoistic jerk then get out. You’ve said things that left a deep scar in my life and here you are saying it doesn’t mean anything? Get out.”

“Y/N-”

“I said get out!” She finally screamed as her chest was heaving, her tears streaming down her face in anger but she didn’t care. She got up as she dragged him to the door, while he tried to fight back. The minute he was out, she slammed the door behind her only to lock it as she found herself sliding down the door, only to sit on the wooden floor.

Her cries were soft, but they were filled with so much pain. On the other side of the door, Jisung could hear her cries as he too kneeled on the ground with his hands against the door.

He could hear her loud and clear as he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He couldn’t bear to say a word to her as he remained quiet.

The next morning, Y/N woke up suddenly wanting to get herself breakfast to clear her memory from last night. She got out of bed, took a warm shower, got changed into her sweatpants, a big hoodie and a cap. She unlocked her door and had just taken a step outside when she jumped at the slight of Jisung seated on the ground beside her apartment door.

Since he was a light sleeper, the sound of her door opening, woke him up as he quickly got on both feet.

Before she could re-enter her apartment, he pressed his palms against the door to prevent her from closing it as he spoke up softly.

“Y/N, please, please let me explain.” He begged as she wasn’t sure why but she decided to let him in. Once he was inside, they didn’t even bother to go anywhere further into her apartment as he stood by the door and began to explain himself.

“Y/N, please listen to me. I know what I did was bad. At the time, I didn’t realise how humiliating it was for you. But now that I’m an adult, I realized that my actions were extremely horrible and I would never, ever do that to anyone now.” He paused before he continued on.

“I know that whatever I said and did back then, I can’t take any of it back. And I don’t blame you for not forgetting or forgiving me for it. I admit that I deserve this from you. All I ask is for you to give me another chance to start over. But I understand if you want nothing to do with me.” He said with a tiny hope laced in his voice although he wasn’t so confident that she would forgive him this time.

She knew he felt guilty for whatever he did back then so it wasn’t wrong for her to give him a second chance right?

“How would I know you’re not just acting this way to set me up for humiliation again?” She asked.

“Would I say all those things and bring my ego down just to prove that I felt like utter shit after everything you told me, only to humiliate you even further?”

“Nobody knows what your ego is capable of.”

“If my words won’t convince you, would my actions do?”

“What if you do it, only to leave and tell on me to everyone else?”

“I can’t seem to get your trust now, can I?”

“Try being in my shoe and you’ll know.”

“Y/N please… I know I left a deep scar on you emotionally and mentally back then, but please… I beg you, please just… let me start over. I need you to trust me just this once.”

“Fine. But if you abuse my trust, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“Believe me, you have no idea how fucked up I felt that night at Chan’s.”

Right after he finished his sentence, he didn’t waste anymore time as he reached up to cup her face in both hands and soon kissed her. She instantly melted against his body as he pulled her closer by the waist. His kisses were so gentle, as if he was afraid he would break her again.

His touch was soft as he slid his hands under her shirt only to draw random patterns onto her waist.

Just then, he pulled away from her lips but it was so addicting he couldn’t help but peck her lips one last time before he spoke up.

“I’m really, really sorry Y/N for everything back then. I couldn’t help but feel like complete shit after that night when I found out that was you. You don’t have to forgive me, I totally understand.”

Y/N just smiled as she gently tangled her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck before she spoke up.

“Would I have let you kiss me if I was still mad?”

He remained quiet as she then continued.

“Besides, I’m giving you a chance to redeem yourself so please, don’t take advantage of this.” She warned gently.

Jisung kissed her for slightly longer before he pulled away and whispered against her lips.

“I promise.”

With that, she smiled as she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest while he snaked his arms around her smaller figure.

Ever since then, Jisung did everything he could to redeem himself for what he did to her back in high school. She slowly began to fall for him as she gave him a solid second chance and she could see how genuine he was now whenever he did something nice for her. Even if he didn’t say it out loud, she knew that he really tried his best to win her heart. And it worked.

~~~

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haikyu-nsfwblog · 3 years

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Kenma’s Kitten

warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), degradation mixed with praise, choking (collar), daddy kink, sub/dom, overstimulation.

Kenma is aged up, if you’re still not comfortable don’t read :)

this is a draft from a while ago I just want to get more content out!

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You and Kenma have been together since first year, and now here you stand in your shared apartment getting ready for your first day of University. Your relationship with Kenma was nothing but exciting, between playing video games together on your free time, movie nights, study dates, and your... personal time, there was never a dull moment.

"Hey Kitten." Kenma whispers as he comes up from behind you hugging your waist. He was always delicate with you, as if you were glass that could be shattered at a touch too hard. Which is surprising considering the way he is during sex.

"Good morning babe." You say sweetly as you lay your arms on top of his. He moves his hands to your waist and turns you towards him, with your body against the wall he looks you up and down.

"Come back home right after class, I have a surprise for you." He says as he laid a light kiss on your cheek.

"Ok!" You replied excitedly, if only you knew what was to come.

*time skip, you're back at the apartment*

You walk in to the apartment to the familiar scent of Kenma's favorite candle, vanilla mixed with mint. The smell was kind of strange when he first introduced you to it, but it's grown on you and now when you hear the word home that smell arises.

"Kittennnn" you hear Kenma drag from your bedroom. You walk into the room to see him holding a box, wrapped with a pink bow.

"What's this?" You ask. Kenma sets the box on the bed and comes up behind you and puts his hands on your waist and walks you towards the bed.

"Open it." He says calmly. You start to unwrap the box when you feel a pair of warm lips against you neck, causing you to gasp. Kenma was always the type to get what he wanted, but you had no problem with that. Knowing that you gave him the satisfaction he needed gave you butterflies.

"Come on kitten, you're taking too long." He said as he bit on your neck. You start to open the box faster, eager to see what's inside. You can feel Kenma's hands moving all over your body. At the same time you start to recognize that familiar feeling between your thighs. You open the box to reveal a red lingerie piece, a collar with KK on it, and cat ears.

"KK?" you ask.

"Kenma's Kitten" he replies quietly, as the sweet words leave his mouth he turns you around and kisses you roughly. You immediately give into the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss. His left hand moves down your body landing on your ass. His right hand slowly travels up the side of your body and lands perfectly around your neck.

"Be a good kitten and put on the outfit for daddy." he commands. You loved how the words left his mouth, his nickname for you, the way he made you address him, the way he owned every inch of your body.

"Come on kitty, don't get shy on me now" He said as he gave you light kisses on your jaw and neck. You backed away from him and started to strip, once down to nothing Kenma grabbed your waist so you couldn't move.

"Wait one second, I want to admire how pretty you are." His words cause you to blush. He lets go of your hips and you pick up the lingerie, you slip it on and glance at yourself in the mirror, Kenma obviously took his time picking this out. It fits you perfectly, showing your curves and assets.

Kenma appears behind you in the mirror and you feel something around your neck, you glance down and see the black collar with gold lettering being placed around your neck.

"You look so pretty Kitten," he starts, "I can't wait any longer, I want you right now," He spins you around and kisses you. The kiss is fast pace, he quickly forces his tongue into your mouth but you don't resist. You stumble back towards the bed and land with Kenma on top of you. He kisses down you neck leaving open-mouthed kisses as he goes. He reaches your chest and starts to rub and pinch your nipples through the cloth. You bite your lip trying to hold back your moans.

"Kitten, you know better then to hide those pretty noises from me. Don't make me stop." he says. You nod your head quickly missing the feeling of his hands teasing you. You can tell he's eager by the bulge rubbing against your inner thigh. He kisses down your stomach but stops. You look down at him confused.

“Get this off, don’t make me wait Kitty.” You quickly slide the straps off and slip the lace clothes down your body. As your doing so Kenma takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his toned stomach and boxers out for view. He goes back down to your chest, taking your right nipple into his mouth and lightly sucking on it while his hand tweaks your left nipple. He moves down your body leading with his tongue. He slides a hand down and starts to tease your entrance.

“I’ve barely started and you’re already so wet for me.” He mocks. “What a pretty little slut you are.” His words cause you to clench around nothing, you roll your head to the side hoping he didn’t notice your reaction. Of course he did, “Look at my kitty, so desperate for her daddy to fuck her senseless, right?” You nod your head.

“Ah ah ah, good kitties use their words.”

“Yes.” you say a little more aggressive then what you intended.

Kenma comes up so he’s right above your face. He moves his hand to your collar and hooks his finger under the leather and pulls you towards him.

“I recommend you watch how you speak to me Kitten, you wouldn’t want to make Daddy mad would you?” You nod your head in an eager reply. “Now be a good slut and get on your knees.” As he says that he positions himself on the edge of the bed, when you realize what he means you quickly get off the bed and place yourself in between his legs. You reach up to the waistband of his boxers and pull them down, his length would be surprising to anyone, nobody expects his large size, but it never fails to give you butterflies

You lick a thin strip from the base to the tip, following the vein on the bottom. You feel his legs twitch. Once you reach the top you take the tip in his mouth, feeling the drip of his pre-cum leaking onto your lips. You give his tip kitten licks and you hear a drawn out groan leave his lips.

“Shit Kitten, stop teasing.” As he says that he runs his hand up the back of your neck, once he reached the middle of your head he gripped your hair and forced you to take him deeper. You feel him reach the back of your throat as your nose brushes his lower abdomen. He’s so deep in your mouth you have tears starting to run down your eyes, from lack of oxygen and Kenma’s aggressive face fucking. Kenma looks down at you to see drool, pre-cum, and tears streamed all over your face.

“You look pretty when you cry Kitty.” His lewd statement gives you butterflies, you quickly go back to your position. You’re moving your head up and down quickly, hollowing your cheeks trying to get Kenma over the edge as fast as possible. When an idea pops into your head, right when you feel his dick twitch inside your mouth and his thighs tighten you stop. Completely taking him out of your mouth. He looked down at you with the most irritated glare you’ve ever seen.

“I’m gonna go grab something, when I get back you better be completely naked, on all fours, and ready to do whatever I say.” The harsh tone in Kenma's voice scared you, but you couldn’t help the feeling between your thighs.

When he came back into the room he had a leash, handcuffs, and a vibrator. He comes over to you and hooks the leash to the loop on the front of the collar. Then connects the other end to the hook at the top of your bed frame. He then cuffs your hands together, the leash and cuffs forcing you to arch your back, your face completely submerged into the mattress.

“Now, you’re going to stay like this until I decide you’re done.” As soon as his demand is finished you hear the rumbles of the vibrator. You feel the sudden vibrations pressed against your clit, making you moan loudly. While that is happening Kenma slides his middle finger into your entrance. He starts to slowly move in and out while still pressing down on your clit with the toy. He adds in his ring finger and starts to pump quickly. You feel the coil in your stomach about to burst.

“K- Kenma, please, I’m c- close.” He speeds up the vibrator and fingers you faster. A flash of white light fogs your vision for a second and you feel yourself release all over his fingers. He turns off the vibrator and sets it to the side, you then hear rustling sheets behind you and feel something swipe across your slit.

With no warning Kenma thrusts into you, completely bottoming out. He gives you no time to adjust to the stretch, and immediately starts to thrust in and out. His pace is quick and harsh.

“You’re such a slut for my cock, you’ll do anything to get me to fuck you senseless. What a dirty whore you are Kitty.” The sound of your hips connecting and Kenma's addicting moans fills the room. You quickly feel the same sensation rising in your lower abdomen.

“Kenma.. don’t s- stop.” You beg. He pounds into you faster and harder. A few thrusts later and you’re coming undone all over his cock.

“Give me on more Kitty.” As he says that he unhooks your collar and uncuffs you, flipping you onto your back as he leans down kissing your lips. He thrusts into you causing you to scream out his name, it’s a mix of pleasure and pain. The overstimulation becoming too much.

“Kenma, don’t go so fast, I- I can’t handle it.”

“Don’t be stupid, of course you can handle it. You’re Daddy’s good kitten right?”

“Yes,” you moan out as he thrusts into you faster.

“Now be good and wait till Daddy says to cum.”

You nod your head, biting your lip in order to hold back the screams. You feel his thrusts become an uneven pace. He hooks his middle and pointer finger under your collar and pulls you up, catching your lips in a hot, aggressive kiss. His hips start to stutter, you can tell he’s close.

“Ok Kitten, cum for me.” You relax your body and let the coil in your stomach snap, at the same time you feel Kenma's dick twitch as he coats your walls with his warm cum.

He pulls out of you and collapses at your side. You both lay there for a moment catching your breath.

“You did so well tonight Kitten, I know I was kind of harsh.”

“It’s ok, I like when you’re rough.” you replied with a soft smile.

Kenma gets up and puts on a pair of gray sweatpants, and walks to the bathroom to start a bath. You both lay in the tub rinsing each others bodies, and holding each other in the warm water. After your bath Kenma gives you one of his gaming hoodies and you two get into bed and he cuddles you.

“I love you so much Kitten.”

“I love you too Kenma.”

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#haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #hq smut #kenma x reader #kenma kuzome #kenma smut #kenma x y/n

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

him halting over words and nat gently encouraging him to keep going and assuring him he doesn’t have to be embarrassed and he’s doing well, the baby isn’t judging she just wants to hear chris’s voice. and he can keep going 🥺

CW: Brief reference to past pet whump/noncon, adult illiteracy, some stimming, referenced parental death

Naomi and Natalie are in the kitchen talking over lunch, eating grilled cheese and tomato soup while they plan some kind of party for Miss Ruth that the old woman isn't supposed to know about.

Their voice filter softly through to the living room where Chris sits, legs crossed, humming while lining up a set of blocks from darkest to lightest color. He's already eaten, and so has Kaelah, Naomi's daughter. He could have gone back to his room, but instead he decided to watch Kaelah, and felt himself melt happily when Naomi didn't even hesitate before saying it was okay for him to be alone with her in the living room.

He was never trained for Domestic or Companion work - he was never meant to be wanted for those things, only for one other thing, the thing he never wanted - but he likes kids, and they seem to like him, and he likes that Naomi thinks he is a good person, good enough and smart enough to not hurt something so precious to her.

He's proud, and nervous, and Kaelah has already tried to pull a small pile of books down over her own head. But he caught those before they fell, so he still feels pretty good about it all.

Now, they're playing blocks, although mostly Kaelah is ordering him around while he lines them up. But it's like playing. And lining the blocks up in a perfect row is soothing, and feels good.

It's right for them to line up just so, turned at right angles to each other on the ends.

Kaelah - two years old with frizzy dark curly hair and bright big brown eyes - is watching Chris with rapt fascination as he works. She has a matching unicorn t-shirt and leggings on, and Chris would wear unicorn shirts if there were any in his size.

Or if Jake wore them, because they'd be safe shirts, then.

"Wed," Kaelah says, solemn and demanding, and smacks at a big red block. "Wed, K'iss."

"Red," Chris says, softly, emphasizing the R sound, and taps on the block, then picks it up and adds it to the line. "That's, that's, that's red... red block."

"Wed," Kaelah agrees, and smacks the block again.

"Good, um, good color, good, good color, Kay," Chris says, and finds another red block to place next to the first one. "Reds, reds are good."

Jake is out with Addie, and Antoni let Kauri take him shopping at Kauri's favorite thrift store. Leila is out with who Chris thinks is her boyfriend, not that Leila tells anyone anything ever. It's just Chris and Natalie, Naomi and Kaelah.

The toddler pushes herself to her feet and walks with an unsteady gait back to the big bag that the blocks came from, pulling things out to discard on the floor without looking, clearly on a mission.

Chris watches, head tilted, hair over his eyes. He's been growing his hair longer, and the copper brushes almost to his shoulders. Some days he holds it back with a clip.

Sir would hate his hair this long, but Chris likes it, likes the swoosh of the end of the strands along his skin if he tilts his head just right, the soft weight on the back of his neck so unlike his collar. A weight he can lift just by pulling it back. A weight he controls.

Sir would hate his earrings, too, two black studs punched in his earlobes and then one tiny silver ring up in the shell on the right side. He wants one in the cartilage, too, but he has to work up the courage to look at the needle again.

Kaelah pulls out stuffed ponies in rainbow colors and a brown fuzzy monster with disturbingly real-looking teeth she calls her "ugler friend", a small bag of glow in the dark unicorns in flat green, GI Joe's, a firetruck that makes siren noises and lights if you press a button on the side, a confused looking plastic fireman, and then finally a box larger than her own head, with big thick cardboard pages.

"Weed, K'iss," Kaelah says, toddling back over with the book clutched in her chubby fingers, dropping it without ceremony directly into his feet. "Weed. Weed now, weed, weed, K'iss!"

Chris runs his fingers over the smooth shiny cover, squinting against the first hint of a headache when he looks at the seemingly hand-drawn letters in yellow layered over green and blue and red. "Good, goodnight Moon," He says haltingly out loud.

Kaelah grins, flashing little baby teeth, clapping. "Moon book!" Then she makes her eyes very big and says, "Pleaaase Moon Book?"

Chris's heart skips a beat, nerves sparking over his arms, but he gives a faint smile and nods. He can do this. The book isn't so many pages, and he's been working so, so hard. He hasn't passed out trying to read in weeks now. Last week he even read Kauri a whole poem.

Kaelah plops herself right down in Chris's lap, snuggling her back right into his chest, her soft frizz of hair tickling his narrow chin. Chris opens the book and looks down, taking a deep breath.

His head hurts in warning, but it's not too bad. And if he's going to be able to go to college, he's going to have to be able to read to take the test for it.

When he starts to read, he feels a strange sense of being somewhere else, a long time ago, and that he isn't the one reading but the one being read to.

"In, in the... The gr... Guh-errrr... gr-ate... great green, green room there was a, a, a... a tuh-ehl... tele... telephone, and a red buh, balloon... and a pick-... picture of the cow juh-... juh-humping oh, over the moon..."

His voice is low and halting, and Chris has to push through the static and ache that tells him not to do this, it's against training, against policy, it's not allowed. He hates his reading voice, slow and stumbling, sounding out phonetics. He's eighteen years old, almost nineteen he thinks, and he can't read.

His lips press together, fighting the sadness and anger. Chris isn't angry very much - he's too happy for that. But sometimes happiness at what he has still gets all mixed up with his furious grief over everything he must have lost.

Whoever he used to be could read, he knows that. Whoever he used to be could read, and do math problems that didn't involve pictures of apples, and wouldn't have to struggle to read to a little girl the easiest book in the whole world.

This is your favorite, huh, baby?

The memory of her voice has been worse when he reads, but he doesn't tell anyone.

He's afraid if he tells, he'll stop hearing it again. He doesn't know whose voice it is, not exactly - sometimes he does but then the memory is gone again and he forgets - but he knows he loved her, and she's dead, and her voice is all he has to hold onto.

"I'm sorry," He whispers. "I'm, I'm, not... not not a good reader."

Kaelah, thumb in her mouth, turns to look at him and pops her thumb out. "K'iss," She says, firmly. "Weed, K'iss. Bun bun kitty."

"I, I know-" He's not sure how, but he does, he does know there's bunnies and a kitten and mittens and the old lady still whispering 'hush'... "I'm just, just, so bad, and-"

"Keep going, honey." Nat's voice is soft from the doorway and he looks up to see her leaning against it with one hand, in her usual jeans and shirt. Her shirt says PEARL JAM and Chris tenses as he realizes he read the words without thinking.

It didn't hurt any worse than the other reading already has.

"Keep it up." She smiles down at him, her brown hair carefully braided and laying over one shoulder. "You're doing great, Chris."

"But, but, but, but I, I, I keep having to... to-to sound it out," Chris says, slumping a little.

Kaelah smacks the open book with her hands. "K'iss more!"

"She doesn't mind that," Nat says gently. "She just likes your voice, and you. Take your time. Everybody starts somewhere, and you've already gotten over the biggest speed bump."

Chris swallows, looking down again. "I, I have?"

She nods and Chris licks at his lips, moving his finger to find the words to start again.

"And... and there, there were three little bears sitting on chairs-"

Oh, I did all those without sounding it out, he thinks, with a stab of something like a sharp pride.

"-and two little kittens and a pair of, of, of mittens..."

He turns the page and Kaelah takes up sucking her thumb again. Chris is aware of Nat still watching from the doorway, the warm and reassuring weight of her presence, and how badly he wants her to be proud of him.

"And a, a little toy house and a young mow, mouse..."

You got this, sweetie, you're doing so good! I'm so proud of you, reading so early! Screw your doctors, baby boy, we got this, you and me! Screw 'em for saying you wouldn't read!

Chris lets the elation in the voice of the woman he doesn't remember carry him through the rest of the words when he turns the pages again, bit by bit.

"And a comb and a br, brush and, and, and a bowl full of mush... And, and a quiet old lay-... lay-dee... lady who was, was whis-... whis-perrrr... whispering, 'hush'."

Goodnight room, reads a tiny boy's voice inside his mind, as the headache throbs but doesn't stop him.

"Goodnight room," He whispers, echoing the boy, the memory of someone he isn't anymore. "Goodnight moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the, the moon."

Kaelah pats his hand with hers. Her little fingers are always damp. "Good job, K'iss," She encourages him.

Chris looks up to see Nat's smile.

"Good job, Chris," Nat says, and he breathes in the praise, lets it settle in his bones and rush through his blood.

In his head, somewhere deeper than the conditioned ache, she whispers, Good job, Tris, I'm so proud of you.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

#whump #recovery whump #recovering whumpee #chris the strawberry blond romantic #referenced parental death #referenced past noncon #box boy #box boy multiverse #box boy universe #neurodivergent whumpee #natalie yoder: here to help the rescues #adult illiteracy tw #deconditioning #conditioning #trauma recovery #memory loss #fluff #angsty fluff

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

Note

Hello darling! Currently obsessed with your writing! Srsly best seller list is shaking. Could I possibly request a peter Parker x reader where she falls asleep on peter while he’s doing homework at his desk and may walks in and it’s just cute and fluffy? Idk run with it. Thank you for existing!!💕

thank you!!

A Soft Place to Land

Pairing: Best Friend Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Aunt May finds you and Peter in a compromising position

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“PP.” You cut off your own sentence with a yawn. “Do you have your physics notebook?”

Peter swiveled in his chair and looked at you. You were sprawled out on his bed, lying on your tummy with your laptop in front of you, eyes dropping from exhaustion. Peters own textbooks and papers were strewn across the bed, bordering your body like an outline of chalk. Peter couldn’t help but smile at the sight, knowing his sheets would smell your perfume once you went home.

“I do.” Peter confirmed. “Do you need it?”

“Would you mind if I copied your notes? Mr. Brighton writes too fast and I missed the section on force.” You said slowly, signaling to Peter that you were beyond tired.

“No problem.” Peter smiled kindly and tossed his notebook at you. You failed to catch it and were hit in the face at full speed, letting out a surprised “oof.” Peter winced at his mistake.

“Oops.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You laughed tiredly. “Woke me up a little.” You yawned again, this time turning away and disguising it into your shoulder so Peter wouldn’t see.

“Y/n, you should take a nap.” Peter suggested out of concern for you and your wellbeing, the only thing he was ever really concerned with. “I’ll move my stuff to the desk. You can sleep in my bed.”

Peters choice of words sent him back to another moment in time.

Peter saw you through you window and collapsed onto your fire escape. You were working diligently at your desk, and Peter hated the idea of taking you away from your work, but he needed you. Only you. Too weak to raise his arm, he hit his forehead against your window until it caught your attention.

“PP?” You asked in a hushed voice as you rushed to your window and opened it as quickly as you could. “How did you get up here? Did you climb the fire escape?”

“Not exactly.” Peter said with a pained smile as you helped him inside.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” You asked, sounding like a parent as you sat Peter down on your bed. Peter gingerly sat down, wincing with every movement. He felt your heart rate pick up and he berated himself for worrying you.

“I climbed next to the fire escape.” Peter said sluggishly.

“On the wall?” You laughed, not believing him. You finally noticed how badly he was beaten. In the soft glow of your desk lamp, you could see bruises on Peters knuckles and under his eyes. He was sweaty and dirty, and definitely did not come from decathlon practice like he said he did. “What happened?” You asked calmly.

“I found the guy who killed Uncle Ben.” Peter have you a half hearted smile. It’d been three months since Peters uncle was shot right in front of him. Peter didn’t speak about it. He didn’t mention his name, or what happened. His casual drop of his deceased uncles name made You filly realize the extent of the situation. Peter was hurt, badly, and he had come to you. This wasn’t the time for questions. This was the time to help Peter.

“Okay.” You said calmly, looking into Peters tired eyes and giving him a comforting look. You sat down on the bed and placed a hand in his knee. “You found the guy who killed uncle Ben.” You repeated, so he knew you heard him.

“But he also found me.” Peter mumbled before collapsing forward into your arms. He was in and out of consciousness as you caught him and gently laid him on your bed, resting him against the headboard.

“Stay there.” You commanded, though he physically couldn’t disobey you. He couldn’t move. He let his aching body rest against your soft sheets, knowing they’d smell like his cologne when he went home. Peter opened one eye, the eye that wasn’t swollen shut, and watched you. You were in sleep shorts and an oversized decathlon t-shirt, looking as beautiful as ever. You paced back and forth around, collecting various things to patch Peter up. Your makeup free face was full of concern, which made Peters heart ache. Coincidentally, it was the only part of him not currently aching. He didn’t want you to worry. It wasn’t your responsibility. But he had no where else to go.

“Okay.” You said with medical supplies stacked up to your chin. “This is all I got.”

Peter wanted to tell you that it was more than enough, but he only had the strength for a weak, “Thank you.”

“Shh. Don’t waste your energy.” You hushed up as you propped him up against your headboard again, since he had begun to slouch. He wanted to take some of the work off of you, but could only be moved around like a rag doll. He gave you a grateful smile. In your eyes, it was enough.

“I’m gonna have to…um.” Your eyes darted down to his chest. He was wearing a huge, old fashioned looking brown jacket over some light blue sweat pants and red water shoes. Had he been in better condition, you would’ve questioned his outfit. Peter looked into your eyes and gave you a tired nod. You didn’t recognize the look in his eyes. He looked almost fearful, and a little hesitant. You unbuttoned his large jacket and slid it off his shoulders. You folded it neatly, noticing the initials “BFP” on the tag. So it was Bens, you thought. He was running around the city, in the dead of night, getting beat up in Bens jacket. You gave Peter a sorrowful look before your eyes trailed down to what was under the jacket. He wore a red hoodie with a spider drawn on it in sharpie. The sleeves were cut out and blue sleeves to match his sweatpants were poorly sewn in.

“Y/n-“ Peter croaked.

“I understand.” You cut him off. You looked him in the eyes and gave him a gentle smile. Your eyes told him that you were telling the truth. “You don’t have to explain anything to me until you’re ready. All that matters to me is getting you patched up, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter said weakly, wishing he could say more. He had so much he wanted to tell you. So much.

“I’m gonna have to unzip it now.” You warned him. “Is that okay?”

Peter gave you another nod. Not wanting to make the situation anymore awkward, you quickly unzipped the hoodie and slid it off his shoulders. Peters normally scrawny body was replaced with a six pack of abs. You gulped and felt your face heat up, hoping he couldn’t tell.

He could.

A deep gash, likely from a knife, was in his lower abdomen. He had other miscellaneous cuts and bruises covering his body. He was in bad shape, worse than you thought, but nothing you couldn’t fix. Your eyes slowly trailed up his body and met his eyes. Peter was staring at you, desperate to read your reaction.

“Are you scared?” He whispered. You laughed lightly and shook your head.

“Of you, PP? You wish.” You teased. You dampened a Cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide and gently dabbed it on the gash. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, and almost looked like it was healing in its own. You then applied some Neosporin and one by one, adhered a pink Hello Kitty band aid to the cut until it was covered. Peter noticed your choice of band aids and laughed, sending an ache through his chest.

“Cute.” He smiled.

“I couldn’t find the dinosaur ones.” You genuinely apologized, making Peters heart grow fonder for you.

“It’s okay.” Peter said, using all that was left if his strength to brush stray hair away from your face. You looked at him as he did it, and leaned into his hand. Peter smiled, grateful that through it all, he was still PP to you, the dumb nickname you gave him when you were kids when you couldn’t pronounce “Peter.”

“Should I be worried about you?” You whispered, your fingertips brushing his hand before closing you hand around his wrist, keeping his palm on your cheek.

“If I say no, will you be worried anyway?” Peter asked, feeling a little strength return.

“I’ll always worry about you, PP.” You said sincerely.

“I promise, I’ll explain it all one day.” Peter swore. You seemed content with his answer.

“Whenever you’re ready.” You told him as you tilted his chin towards your face. Peter froze, thinking you were going to kiss him. Instead, you pulled out a Cotten swab and gently dabbed it on the cut on Peters lip. A plus side to his powers, hydrogen peroxide didn’t sting anymore. After cleaning the cut, you leaned in to blow on it. Your puckered lips were almost touching Peters. Peter gulped and did his best to keep his pulse from getting to crazy. You then dabbed some Neosporin on his lip and got to work on the rest of his cuts.

Peter fell asleep in the middle of you playing nurse. When he woke up, he was in your biggest shirt, and a loose pair of sweatpants he’d seen your brother wearing before. He was fully under your covers now, and resting comfortably against your pillow. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you sitting at your desk.

“Y/n?” He called out, making you turn around.

“Yes, PP?” You said.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Peter admitted. His mouth moved faster than his brain. He didn’t think it through. He just told you.

“No.” You said sarcastically, and shot him a smile. Peter felt relived at your reaction.

“I feel better now. I can head home.” He groaned, and painfully tried to sit up. You rushed to his side and tried to get him to lie down again.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You laughed at his absurdity. “I texted May from your phone and said you were sleeping at Ned’s.”

“But I’m not.” Peter pointed out.

“I know.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re sleeping here.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do that. That’s too much to ask.” Peter protested your hospitality.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” You assured Peter. “And of course I do. You’re my best friend. And May can’t see you like this. You’re gonna stay here tonight.” You told him, absentmindedly tucking him in. Peter laughed at you slipping into motherly behavior. “You can sleep in my bed.”

“I can’t.” You said, breaking Peter away from the memory. “I have to finish this essay.”

“What you have to do is get some sleep.” Peter insisted, throwing a paper ball at you when he noticed you beginning to doze off. “How many hours did you get last night?”

“Dunno.” You said sleepily, resting your tired head on your hand. “One-teen.”

“One-teen?” Peter asked in concern.

“Mhm.” You nodded, head drooping further and further down until your arm slipped out from under you and you face planted into your textbook. “Maybe it was twelve-ty.”

“Y/n, you’re making me worried.” Peter chewed his bottom lip.

“The static on the TV makes you worried.” You pointed out.

“Because it makes a scary sound.” Peter defended. “Don’t change the subject. You need to get some sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak.” You yawned.

“That can’t be true, because you’re the strongest person I know.” Peter quipped.

“Even stronger than that guy you fought who was made of sand?” You asked with hooded eyes.

“Yes, because he was made of sand.” Peter deadpanned.

“Mmm.” You laughed sleepily. “Sand. Yummy.”

“Okay, now I know you’re exhausted if you think sand is yummy.” Peter said, amazed that you were still in denial.

“What did you say, honey?” You murmured.

“No, not honey.” Peter laughed, cheeks hearing up at the accidental pet name. “I said yummy.”

“What’s funny?” You asked, now purposely misunderstanding him.

“Oh my goodness.” Peter laughed again. “Have you slept at all this week?”

“I have no time.” You sighed, eyes reluctantly going back to your essay.

“I can finish this essay for you.” Peter offered.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You informed him.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” Peter repeated your words from that night, wondering if you recalled that memory too.

“No, PP. You have your own work you need to do.” You insisted.

“My stuff isn’t due until next week.” Peter reminded you. “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you. Just this once.”

You seemed to consider his offer. “I won’t let you do my actual essay, because that’s cheating, but I’ll allow you to help me.”

“Fine by me.” Peter shrugged.

“Okay.” You gave in and went over to where he was sitting at his desk. “Scoot.”

Peter moved over in his swivel chair and let you share the seat with him. You rested your back against the arm rest and laid your legs on top of his before handing him your laptop. “I have my thesis statement and everything else, but I have no idea if it’s even coherent. It feels a little messy.”

“Here’s what I do.” Peter began to explain how he structured his essays. About halfway though his explanation, he felt pressure on his shoulder. You had rested your head there and were listening to him with a content smile.

“Keep going. I’m listening.” You assured him, letting out another yawn after. Peter kept going and soon picked up on your breathing slowing down. You stretched a little, your nose brushing his jawline and ended up even deeper in the crook of his neck. You began to lazily play with the buttons on his button down.

“Alright.” Peter said softly, not trusting his voice to be steady. “Then, I draw back to my thesis and make a connection. It should be a very obvious connection so that the person reading it-“ Peter stopped when he heard the soft whistle of your breath. He carefully adjusted himself and wrapped an arm around you, just so his arm wouldn’t fall asleep, or at least that’s what he told himself. He also didn’t want you to slip and fall off the chair. You ended up snuggling deeper into his side and throwing an arm around his waist. Peter smiled to himself and pulled your laptop in front of him. He revised your work and nodded in approval. You didn’t have much left, just needing proofreading. Peter took his time reading your essay, editing what needed to be fixed and making some corrections. He finished in about half an hour and emailed it to your teacher. He then picked up your planner and looked at what else you needed to get done. In your signature handwriting, was the following:

Write essay Copy(steal) PP’s physics notes Find quote for English project

Peter checked the time, and then your sleeping face. It was 11 now, and your curfew was 12. He could copy his notes into your notebook and find a quote in under an hour. He’d be damned if he couldn’t. And so, Peter took out your black marble notebook with the little Spider-Man stickers and began to copy his notes down. As he worked with his right hand, his left hand rubbed soothing circles onto your back. You let out soft noises in your sleep, that Peter found it hard not to fawn over. He got halfway through copying when he door opened.

“Are you guys-,” May said at full volume until Peter held a finger to his lips. A pretty harsh finger, one might add. May grimaced and nodded. “Are you guys alright? Need anything from me?” She said in a softer tone.

“We’re okay.” Peter whispered back. “I gotta get her home soon.”

“How long has she been out?” May asked.

“About an hour.” Peter replied.

“And how much sleep had she been getting?” May sighed, knowing you and your habits.

“None.” Peter sighed as well. “I don’t want to wake her so I’ll probably swing her back home, if that’s alright.”

“But that means you’ll have to swing back alone.” May reminded him. “I thought you hated swinging that late?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s okay. I’d rather get her home safely. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re a good boyfriend.” May smirked, already anticipated her nephews reaction. “Holding her while she sleeps and helping her with her work.”

“I’m not her boyfriend.” Peter said quickly, and a little too loudly, causing you to stir in your sleep and hug Peter a little tighter. “I’m her best friend, who’s a boy. Not her boyfriend. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” May squinted her eyes.

“Yes.” Peter stated. “She doesn’t think of me like that.”

“But you think of her like that.” May said, as more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.” Peter nodded, then shut his eyes tightly. “I mean, no. No. She’s my friend.”

“Right. Of course.” May said sweetly. “Girlfriend.” She added under her breath.

“What was that?” Peter snapped.

“Peter, this is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re growing. Your body is flourishing now. It’s okay if your Peter tingle tingles just for her.” May teased.

“Please stop saying “tingle” May.” Peter groaned.

“All I’m saying is, I fell in love with my best friend too once.” May held up her hands in defense.

“Oh yeah?” Peter said sarcastically. “Then what happened?”

“Then I became Mrs. Parker.” May smiled.

Peter fell silent, focusing only on your breathing as he absentmindedly twirled your hair around his finger.

“May?” He said softly.

“Yes, Peter?” May answered.

“What do I do if she doesn’t feel the same?” Peter wondered out loud. It was his biggest fear. Him, finding the courage to tell you how he feels, and you rejecting him. Saying something like “aw, PP, you know I love you but-“ and then some recycled rejection that would utterly devastate Peter as he nodded along with a smile. He couldn’t bear the thought.

“Do you know how she feels?” May asked, knowing a little more than Peter. She had an outsider perspective on your relationship. She saw all the stolen glances and lingering looks that you two didn’t catch.

“Yes.” Peter huffed. May tilted her head to the side.

“Did you ask?” She continued.

“No.” Peter said sheepishly, knowing the point his aunt was trying to make.

“Then you don’t know.” May told him.

“We’ve been best friends for years. She would’ve said something by now if she felt that way about me.” Peter defended.

“Have you said something?” May folded her arms.

“No.” Peter said harshly, before realizing what May was trying to say.

“Then why would you expect her to?” May delivered the final blow. Peter knew he had lost the argument.

“I don’t like it when you get all omnipotent on me.” Peter grumbled. He looked at your sleeping face and sighed. He wanted to tell you. He did. And he wanted more times like this. He’d hold you every night if he could.

“That’s what aunts are for.” May smiled in triumph. Peter was quiet again.

“May?” He said finally.

“Yes, Peter?” She asked, having a feeling where he was going with it.

“I feel that way.” He admitted, without taking his eyes off your notes. “About her.”

“I know you do, Peter.” May nodded in understanding. She could tell her nephew had feelings for you long before he knew it himself.

“What do I do?” Peter asked, looking up sadly at May.

“Talk to her. You’ll know where to go from there.” May advised.

“And if I don’t?” Peter asked.

“She’ll know.” May said with an all knowing smile. She blew Peter a goodnight kiss and shut the door quietly. You stirred at the sound and slowly took your head off Peters shoulder. He went back to his work and pretended he never stopped it as you stretched.

“What time is it, PP?” You asked through a yawn.

“Quarter after 11.” Peter answered you, speaking in a low tone so you didn’t get startled.

“I gotta get home soon.” You sighed and adjusted your position, never taking your legs off his lap. You stretched towards the sky, but wrapped your seams around Peters neck this time when you finished. He felt his ears burn at your half asleep action. You were always clingy when you were tired, and right now, you were exhausted.

“I’ll swing you back.” Peter offered, pretending to be fully invested on your notes and not on the way your breath tickled his neck.

“You don’t have to.” You told him as you rubbed your eyes.

“And let you walk home in the dark all alone? I don’t think so.” Peter sounded almost insulted, but still had his signature playful tone.

You laughed lightly and rested your head back on Peters shoulder. He didn’t complain. He’d been missing the warmth you created.

“May was right.” You said quietly through a sleepy smile. Peter was a good boyfriend, you thought.

“What was that?” Peter asked. He had heard, but didn’t know what you meant.

“Nothing. Just a dream I had.” You shrugged and sighed in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Oh.” Peter said, not sure what else to say.

“Do you ever have those dreams that make you wake up with crushes on people you didn’t think you’d have a crush on?” You asked him, feeling a little more awake. The nap had helped, though you’d never admit it to Peter.

“Yeah, I do. Is that what you had? Do you have a crush on a boy at school?” Peter asked, jealously seeping into him like water through a crack in a boat.

“Kind of.” You nodded. “I had a dream a boy confessed his feelings for me, but not to me.”

“Oh.” Peter said simply. “How do you feel now?”

“Disappointed.” You laughed sadly.

“You’re disappointed that the boy likes you?” Peter said, barely covering up the sadness in his voice. He knew he was the boy. You must’ve heard the conversation with May in your sleep and thought you dreamed it.

“No.” You shook your head with a sleepy smile. “I’m disappointed that it was only a dream.”

Peter as quiet for awhile, thinking about what May had told him. “Y/n, I have to tell you something.” Peter looked you in your tired eyes. He nervously drummed his fingers on your leg.

“I wasn’t dreaming, PP, was I?” You realized suddenly. You looked to Peter for answers, who had that same look in his eyes as he did that night. Fearful, and a little hesitant.

“I like you, okay?” Peter admitted, knowing he was backed into a corner. “I like you and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Because I’m supposed to be your best friend. I’m meant to be a soft place for you to land. I’m not supposed to be complicating your life and adding to your stress by developing feelings for you.” Peter said softly.

“This doesn’t complicate my life.” You said pointedly as you put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. “This only makes it better.”

“You like me?” Peter asked, wondering now if he was the one dreaming. “You like me, like me?”

“I do.” You smiled, your gaze dropping to his lips quickly before coming back up to meet his eyes. “Are you gonna make my dream come true, PP?”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman x reader #spider man: homecoming #peter parker fluff #peter parker #peter parker x best friend!reader #best friend!peter parker x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #endgame rerelease #iron man #eddie brock #spiderman x y/n

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lethargic-caterpillar · 4 years

Text

Let’s try this again (SFW)

Gender Neutral Shadow monster x Gender Neutral! Reader

I went a teeny weeny bit off script but it’s still a nervous reader that is reluctant to fall for another monster after their last rejection.

@exxo-potato

---

Your cat had been acting rather strange as of late. Keyboard seemed to be rather sad, despite treats and some snazzy new toys you could not get him away from the window. He wouldn’t even get up for your best friend, who was his best friend.

“Maybe he’s reflecting your mood,” she had said when she came over for a visit. “Like that whole thing about animals being like their owners. You have been a little out of sorts since...”

You stop her with a look, Paisley falls silent and takes another sip from her water bottle. You knew already that you were off, you just didn’t know how to stop. How to go back to normal after the whole anthropophilic naga incident.

It was pretty common for a human and a monster to be in a public relationship nowadays, but there were still some naysayers. You were alive during the protests that used to happen when the government had finally legalised monster human marriage.

You thought that your workplace was safe from that kind of discrimination, but the naga you used to crush on proved that theory wrong. Her words had stung worse than any bee, not only were you rejected, you were also insulted by the personal comments she made. The slump that the situation had put you in got so bad that your boss gave you a week off in pity as it had resulted in non-efficiency.

Of course your boss didn’t know why so eventually when you go back she’ll be there too.

"You should get a cat behaviour consultant," Paisley suggests as if it's the most normal thing ever.

"A who and a what now?"

"Oh yeah, there's this totally legit consultant that I hired when Jordan started eating socks," you snort, you'd forgotten about that whole ordeal. Paisley had never told you how the problem stopped, but a cat behaviour consultant seems as likely as anything when your cat is swallowing socks.

Paisley gives you the website as well as the business card she kept in her overflowing wallet. You look at Keyboard, who was still sitting in the window, and pull out your laptop with a sigh.

It's a pretty legit, local company. It also says that this is a side profession though, what an odd choice. This person must really love cats. The only sketchy thing was that there were no pictures of the actual consultant.

After having an argument with yourself, before going to sleep, you called the number provided in the contact section the next day. Every few minutes, you look towards the digital clock on your oven to see if it had suddenly become 3 o'clock.

"Keyboard, you silly kitty, I do these things for you and you alone." you point at your orange tabby and give him a look when you hear the doorbell ring. You aren't sure what exactly you were expecting, but this definitely was not it.

They were shorter than you by about four inches or so. At first glance, you'd assume they were a slime monster, but with a closer look, you saw that shadows were coming off of their matte skin. Definitely not slime. The little spots drifted towards the floor and disappeared immediately. Their hand was unusually warm, bordering on hot, but the shadows that transferred from their fingers to yours were cool.

"Hello! I'm here to see Keyboard?" the voice of the monster sounded like it was actually three voices. They hesitated when they said your cat's name as well, which wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

"Yes, he's on the windowsill and has been for nearly a week," you step aside so that they can walk in... or glide in? "This is embarrassing but, I don't actually know your name?" There was a name on the website, of course, you knew that you would have butchered it six ways from Sunday if you tried to pronounce it though.

The Eldritch horror like being laughed in that strange voice, and it sounds like a weird Snap chat filter. "You can just call me Chess!"

When Chess knelt down next to your stationary cat, they took off their square-framed glasses and their eyes started to glow purple, eyes that were not previously visible. You shivered a bit, feeling oddly drawn to the light.

Keyboard obviously felt it as he stood up and stretched, mewing softly. He stood on the lap of Chess, his little paws sank a little bit into the shadows collected there. The consultant puts their glasses back on and their eyes become little semi-circles. They must be smiling.

“What a pretty kitty,” Chess rubs under your cat’s chin and between his ears. “He’s giving off some very… unhappy energy. I think it’s his stomach that’s bothering him.” you nod, unsure of what to say.

“May I see what food brand you buy?” They set down Keyboard and stand back up from their position. You rush into the laundry room that doubles as the station for all of your cat's needs. The bag of food sits in the same cupboard as the kitty litter, it wasn’t anything fancy. It was the same cat food that you fed him for nearly his whole life.

You show the bag to Chess and they hum, which is just as weird as any other noise they make. “This one is quite fine, though it is dry… How old is Keyboard?” they look up at you and you look at your cat, the eye contact makes you feel warm.

“I think he’s 17? I can’t remember,” you laugh awkwardly, and Chess’s semi-circles return. They pass you the bag of cat food.

“Then perhaps it’s time to switch to a senior cat formula,” Chess says and looks towards the cat who is still purring in the windowsill, but instead of looking outside, he’s looking at you both. The grin on his face is contagious.

Chess gives you the name of a brand to try and you schedule another appointment in a week. They tell you that they’ll send an invoice, and you close the door behind them with a sigh. You sit down and pet Keyboards head when he comes to say hello. They were so nice and weren’t too bad to look at, sort of cute in a nerdy, cat-person way.

NO! No, no-no-no. No feelings. Not for a good long while. Especially not for a monster. You did that one too many times.

You had stopped yourself from focusing on them until Thursday came around, you were taking back the open bag of cat food as the store you had gotten it from a program for returning opened bags. It was a nice way to get rid of unwanted or unused food.

You’re standing in front of the wall of cat toys, thinking it would be nice for Keyboard to have a new friend. His favourite had dropped it’s last feather last month and you’d meant to find a replacement earlier. You pick a green and pink mouse with a feather tail that looks durable enough and without looking, you turn around to walk to the checkout.

You bump into someone and drop the mouse. A familiar voice apologises and an equally familiar, shadowed hand picks up the cat toy. “Sorry about that!” they say cheerfully and pass the colourful mouse back to you.

“Oh, no. It’s my bad. Should’ve looked where I was walking,” you push out those words, your face feels really warm and you know that you’re ruby red. Chess wobbles and you think that that was them shaking their head.

“I’m a little hard to spot,” their hand gestures to the bit of height difference between the two of you. You chuckle, but you also notice that they seem even smaller than the first time you met. You brush it off, it must just be your imagination.

“Still though,” you shrug and Chess grins, their eyes, which are visible, becoming half circles. “Have a nice rest of your day, see you in a few days!” you let out a breath and turn on your heel, home time. It was such a long day of actively avoiding the naga at your work and the rumours about your rejection that were travelling at light speed around the office.

“Wait! I’m so sorry, and feel free to say no, but… do you think maybe we could meet before then?” Chess’s eyes dull and their shadows expand out a bit, to hide, you assume. “And not to talk about your cat, unless Keyboard came up of course then I would totally talk with you about him. Such a nice kitty,” they start to mumble, spacing out a bit. You bring them back to reality.

“Yes. Yes, let’s go out,” you smile at them, feeling a great weight being lifted from your chest.

---

They were supposed to be some sort of shy eldritch horror with an ability to attract cats (and sometimes people), and feel the energy that certain things give off (mostly just cats). I think that this does a fine job. Might just expand later.

My posting will slow down even more due to some personal problems that don’t have a real or permanent solution at the moment. However I do have some ideas and will try to get them set up for the future, perhaps as less of a short story and more like headcanons: A Worn-Out Caterpillar~

#exophilia #monster x reader #monster x human #monster s/o #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster imagine

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thespiantherepist · 4 years

Text

Android Shinsou x female reader Smut!

Notes: Hitting you with that dirty game first babes! Ill try my best to make a Gender neutral reader for it I swear.

Warnings: Smut, pet names, yandere-ish themes, slight aphrodisiac.

Your experiment, one you had been working on since your first year of college. Your pride, and joy. The one thing you cared about as much as your animals.

The very thing you devoted your soul to.

Your android.

Yeah you'd made one, or two, or uhh... Seventeen award winning ones, and twenty nominated ones. This one was different though.

You never really were able to get a partner. (You never looked.) You didnt know why.

(You Never Looked.)

So... you made a robot that would love you just as much as you loved it. Because appearently you didnt appeal to anyones tastes anyway.

(For the love of god, the huminoid sonic had been trying at you since pre-k!)

It was the moment of truth.

You tested his chips, his circuts, the endoskeleton. You ran his programming through a computer for days to make sure it was correct.

You beamed with delight. Your smile illuminating your flat.

"This is it!" You said, flipping your head over to stare at your Bulldog, Steve on the couch. "Soon you'll have a buddy to play with all day!" The American wagged his tail in a chill manner before lying his head back down.

"3...," You whispered to yourself. Flipping the switch on the back of his neck to boot him up.

"2...," You said louder this time, leaning into your computer, and running a safe check on his files.

"....1." You said in an awestruck tone as the pop up button showed on your screen. You clicked it.

Hurriedly you skipped over to your creation, giddily jumping up, and down.

Soft whooses, and buzzes thrumed in his ribcage. His skeleton moved into place visibly. His artifical skin heated, warming your freezing hand.

'Yes..'

The yellow light turned on.

"Yes."

It slowly changed to Green, then started blinking rapidly, starting his actual systems. Air seemed to spin in the room to fit your excitement. Beeps from deep within him cued your reactions. Your eyes glittered with glee, and tears pricked your eyes. His body moved slowly a bit.

"YES!" You happily grabbed his hands shaking them a bit.

"Open your eyes sleepy head!"

A breath came from him.

You drew yours in.

He didnt respond.

"Come on hun, lets get at it!"

... This is worrying.

"Shinsou, on." You said, trying to verbally aid his process.

And for a second.

It seemed to work.

For one second.

It never actually did.

Your heart shattered, tears immediently trekked down your face. Hitched breaths wrecked your body, as you dried to calm down. Trying to swallow the coil in your throat.

You sat inside your house for a few days.

Religiously trying your process.

And each failed attempt ended in more tears.

Each ended in another heartbreak.

It sent you spiraling.

And each day you spiraled further. Further into a pit of resentment to the peice of junk that ruined countless oppourtunities for relationships.

For jobs.

For sleep,

health,

money,

family.

You resented the scent of lavender, and blackberry that came off of him each night. The scent that would drive you wild.

Cause you to touch yourself each night.

Each night.

On the couch facing him.

After you finished you always felt violated.

You couldnt stay at your flat any longer.

You spent two weeks at Tenya Iidas. It was the best two weeks of your life. You actually felt terrible leaving.

The second you entered your house you noticed something was up.

There was a linear pattern of lavender lights leading into the hallway.

The smell of Lavender, and Blackberries were gone.

There was a silhouette sitting at the bottom of your stairs.

The shape sent an immediate rush of fear into your heart, and you whimpered stepping back towards the door. The figures eyes opened slowly revealing beautiful, glowing, purple orbs.

Strangely enough this sent even more fear through your body. You had programmed your android to protect you after all.

"What. The. Fuck. Type of stunt do you think you just pulled Kitten?" His voice was laced with venom, a warning had you ever heard one.

"I- I wha?"

"Dont act fucking stupid with me!" He shouted, springing up from his spot at the base of the stairs in incredible speed.

"You smell just like him."

You paniked, pressing your back against the door as he advanced to you. The scent coming back stronger than ever this time. Your knees buckled, and you fell to the floor, hand grasping then knob.

"Oh, Kitten, I didnt mean to scare you." He said in a mocking tone. "Come here~" Your body moved on its own. Pressing flush against him. Arms encasing his neck, nose nuzziling into him.

"Thats really sweet of you, ya know?" He asked in a vauge manner. He pushed you away slightly so he could get a better loom at you. "You didnt become a slutty little bitch when you went to that cucks house. My Kitten stayed heated only for her Master~"

Your eyes widened in fear, then in realisation. You huffed slightly. Pressing your now, warm, nose against his neck.

'Of course, you programmed him with those sensors idiot.' You mentally kicked yourself.

"Were you on the entire time?" You asked pulling away from him glaring slightly at your masterpiece. Watching as his pupils geared to aim towards a spot in the corner of his eyes. His lips stuck out in a playful pout before he smirked.

"May-be." He said misheviously. You gasped, and punched his chest lightly, to which he chuckled.

"You asshole, why?"

'Ah, so loud!'

"I thought you looked cute mad~" It was your turn to pout a bit. 'This sadist.'

"So kitten," Shinsou said leaning in, "Tell me," Your mind went blank from the scent that he emmitted, "Do you wanna play a bit?"

You nodded quickly, staring at the man above you.

His eyes flickered for a second.

Lavender to Ruby.

A glitch?

You didnt think it was too problematic, a minor color glitch. Nothing too serious.

Im so sorry my friend.

He smirked, picking you up by the hips, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He kissed you deeply, his warm lips unexpected especially for him. He immediately pressed his tounge past your lips. Turning your head so you could get better leverage. You squeaked in suprise, and slight discomfort. Bringing a hand to his shoulder, and the back of his head for stability.

He presesed you against the wall behing you, one hand at the small of your back, pressing you up to him. The other left your hip, trailing up to your breasts, then slipping his hand into your pants.

You gasped in surprise, trying to break from the kiss, instead he deepened it. You moaned slightly into his mouth, causing him to groan deeply. He wrapped his tounge over yours, nearly chocking you in passion.

Your eyes were practically screwed shut from intensity. The two tendrils slid over each other, collecting the essence upon each other.

Shinsou slid his finger into your sopping cunt. Pushing upwards in a quick pace.

You openly gasped at the intense sensation. Youd never inserted anything inside before.

You threw your head back, neck bare to the machine in front of you. He added another finger, heading right for your neck afterwards. He nipped and bit as he pumped his fingers at a rhythimic pace. He felt your hands curl at his head, and he looked back up at your soft, lewd expression.

Drool fell in thin rivuletts down your chin. Your eyes tolled the back of your head. Heated cheeks adding to your beautiful expression.

It seemed as if the world stopped for a second, Shinsou felt real. He hadn't realised his fingers sped up until he heard your delectable moans gettting louder.

"Ngh- Ahah! Shi- shinsou, so clooose ahahh!"

You whined in pleasure squirming on his fingers. He wasnt going to let this opportunity go to waste.

He heaved lowered your bodies quickly so he was face level with your cunt, then without taking his fingers out he started to devour your pussy. He sucked against your clit, then dipped his long tounge deep inside you.

You flinched at the warm sensation entering your hole. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, in pure bliss.

Your moans shook the windows behind you. And Shinsou?

Shinsou was dining like a king. Your essense dribbled down his chin, making his sensotove nerves go haywire. He twisted, and turned his tounge around inside you, pulling it out occasionally to press a kiss to your clit. Everytime he did that he sped up.

You felt it wriggling inside you, pressing at your walls demanding you to come.

His artifical scent grew stronger as you came closer to your finish. You wailed, pulling at Shinsou soft locks.

"Are you gonna cum kitten?" He said, voice muffled by your pussy. He nuzzled your clit with the top of his nose, forcing a drawn out moan from you. "Kitty cat, Imma count to three for you okay?" His voice again sent vibrations to your hole.

You ground your hips into his mouth, causing his movements to stutter a bit, before he gained a new pace.

"Three, two... mmph, now kitten!"

The coil inside you snapped hard. Your jucies sprayed all over his face, and partiality on his chest.

He stared at you in awe, seeing your pussy absoulutely soaked. Some dribbled on his hands. His eyes resumed their glowing state as he flipped you over.

He leaned over you on the floor, bending down to whisper in your ear.

"Im going to fuck you so hard kitty, Im going to fuck you until I am the only man you'll ever wanna see."

You moaned in anticipation.

"Wait, please be gentle, its my first time."

He just smirked softly, placing a soft kiss to your neck. He slowly slid his member in, the muscle massaging your slick walls. Hitting every pleasurable nerve on its journey. Your brain blanked.

He didnt bother going slow after that immediently blasting into your hole. Large hands grasping tightly onto your hips. Thrusts shaking your entire body.

It carried on this way for what seemed like ages. Him thrusting into you at unimaginable speeds that sent your body into a tizzy.

When you finally came you fell from heaven, and landed into the fiery pleasure of hell. Warmth left, and entered you at the same time. A moan leaving your twitching mouth, drool escaping in tandum.

Shinsou pulled out. Marveling the sight, and oicking your limp body off the floor. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"Dont worry bout a thing kitten," He said when you felt yourself asending the stairs, and you looked up slighlty. "Ive got you."

ge entered your room, and layed you down slowly.

"I love you Shinsou."

"Love you to kitten, now let me go get my charger, and Ill be right back."

#Yander shinsou #Android shinsou #Shinsou is a kinky bastard #hes also sneaky #reader is precious #Android Shinsou x reader #You really do be simping over androids though #I should be asleep #rough smut #18+#jealousy #Dont put your dick in a robot.#Iida and Shinsou are rivals #You and Shinsou were roomates.#As per my girlfriends request.

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avinrydarchive · 4 years

Text

three doors, three souls

Author: AvinRyd Fandom: The Bartimaeus Trilogy Rating: Gen Pairing: N/A (deep, all encompassing friendship between Nat&Kitty&Ptolemy&Bart, but no romance) Word Count: ~5,300 Series: N/A “B-” He clears his throat. “Bartimaeus?”

(He's not sure where that name came from.)

The boy blinks, then shakes his head. “No, my name is Ptolemy.” He looks expectant, as if waiting for a response.

And what to respond? Does he have a name? After a moment of thought he decides, yes, he does have a name: Nathaniel. He says as much and Ptolemy smiles.

“Hello, Nathaniel,” and it sounds so right and familiar in his voice that Nathaniel aches.

Read on AO3: link

White.

Blinding white is all there is; there had been shards of it in his vision, slashes of it in his body, an aching starburst of it in his soul. Now it is all he knows. He flies through it at speed, movement with no form to move; burning on skin that is not there.

Then suddenly, everything stops.

He looks around to see the white has dulled from snow-in-blazing-sunlight to something with depth, dimension. The dimension seems to go on forever, stretching away, and in that distance there is a speck of...well, it’s hard to tell. Certainly not white, which he finds comforting.

Sensing something at his back, he turns. Swinging shut behind him in calm silence is a massive door. Its glass panes gleam in the omnipresent light, iron latticework shining dully between. There is nothing behind the glass.

Movement at his back, once again. Once again, he turns. The not-white speck has drawn very close indeed, close enough to take the form of a boy; dark of skin, dark of hair, with eyes that feel older than the years his face betrays. The child can’t be more than fourteen.

“B-” He clears his throat. “Bartimaeus?”

(He's not sure where that name came from.)

The boy blinks, then shakes his head. “No, my name is Ptolemy.” He looks expectant, as if waiting for a response.

And what to respond? Does he have a name? After a moment of thought he decides, yes, he does have a name: Nathaniel. He says as much and Ptolemy smiles.

“Hello, Nathaniel,” and it sounds so right and familiar in his voice that Nathaniel aches.

“Where are we?” Nathaniel asks, looking around once more, but Ptolemy doesn’t answer. Instead—still with that smile, warm as the sun and twice as bright—he reaches out to take Nathaniel’s hand and lead him forward.

Hand. Nathaniel then remembers to wonder about his own form. Does he look like anything in particular? He starts with the hand in Ptolemy’s: pasty pale in comparison, but around the same size. From the wrist there’s a spindly arm in the sleeve of a grey jumper. This leads to a torso occupying the rest of the jumper. Down over dark pants to smart shoes, and Nathaniel compares these to Ptolemy’s ivory kilt and bare brown feet. Looking up, he’s at eye-level with the back of Ptolemy’s head and there’s a dark fringe of hair falling into his vision that surely wasn’t there before. He’s just reaching up to fuss with it when Ptolemy draws to a stop.

“What do you see?”

Nathaniel snaps back to attention and lets out a small sound of surprise. “Um. I see three doors,” he says with some confusion, “The door on the left is dark wood with a tarnished silver handle. The middle one is dark and has a red pentacle drawn on it, but the outer binding is broken. The door on the right is plain. Just a white door. ”

Ptolemy nods and points with his free hand at the first door. “That leads back to the world you know. Step through and you can start anew with no memory of this or your life before.”

He points to the second. “That door leads to the Other Place. If you enter, you will be absorbed into the energies of that world and become a part of the spirits. One day, you might be named and summoned. Or you might not.

"The third-” he pauses and gives the plain door a hard look, “The third door leads...on. I don’t know where, for I’ve never seen what’s beyond.”

There’s a long pause, then Ptolemy turns to face Nathaniel and says with heartbreaking gentleness, “As you’ve probably worked out, you’re dead.”

Their empty pocket of space is quiet as Nathaniel considers this, then he gestures around them. His voice seems small and fragile in the excess of open space. “And where is this?”

“Purgatory. Mictlan. Hades. There are many names. I call it The In-Between.” Ptolemy shrugs and seems like he would continue, but something draws his attention back the way they’d come.

The glass-and-iron door has opened once more and something falls through. To Nathaniel it has no shape, only a lump of substance imposed on the world, but somehow his entire being shrinks from it in terror. Ptolemy goes to meet it, but Nathaniel shies away and removes himself from the doors. From this vantage he can’t hear Ptolemy’s words, but he sees the other boy reach out and the essence take form under his touch.

A horrifying apparition is soon standing more than twice as tall as Ptolemy, tentacles and horns and sickly shapes of too many limbs and a roar of abject misery. Ptolemy shows absolutely no fear, no disgust; his movements are gentle and sure, meeting the confused and desolate creature with a compassion Nathaniel knows he could not muster in himself.

They approach the doors and Nathaniel can hear Ptolemy now. His quiet question is the same but the thing’s voice, with its echoes of horror and undercurrent of shrieking cries, is too vague to make out. As soon as Ptolemy has explained the third door, the being moves towards it in a desperate lurch. The door is open now and Nathaniel leans forward, trying to see beyond and the thing turns; their eyes meet and both recoil in base terror. The thing falls backwards through the door. Nathaniel falls on his backside. The door clicks shut.

For the first time in this place of empty white, Nathaniel feels pain. A tension has wound itself in his chest and is tightening viciously; in his ears, there are echoes of mind-rending noise—crashing glass and roaring fire, the screaming and exultation of many beings too large for the world. His breath comes too fast and harsh, though a moment ago he hadn’t needed to breathe at all.

For a time he cannot measure, Nathaniel is curled up on himself in a ball, rocking back and forth, wanting desperately to forget even as he reaches to understand this horror in his mind. The understanding does not come; the oblivion, neither. When his vision comes back into focus, Ptolemy is kneeling before him, unsurprised concern in the curve of his back and lines on his brow.

“Your passing was violent,” he says, “and though it may have involved that spirit you just saw, you cannot recall a thing. Am I right?”

Nathaniel nods, tries to arrange his limbs into a more comfortable sitting position. Ptolemy continues.

“It is often that way with those who die in battle or fear. So many pass through with no memory of themselves. And some, like me, stay until they recall.”

Something about Ptolemy’s hand on Nathaniel’s processed wool jumper seems incongruous.

“You can too, if you like.”

“I think I had another name.” Nathaniel says into the quiet. Ptolemy has just returned from guiding a wandering woman from the glass door. He flops down to lie on the ground alongside Nathaniel; their heads level, Nathaniel’s feet stick out a bit past Ptolemy’s. “It was John.”

Ptolemy’s hum from his left is musical in its thoughtful way. A hand comes up, darkly contrasted with their white surroundings, and traces invisible circles in the air. “Sounds like you were a magician.”

Nathaniel doesn’t like the sounds of that. He’s seen the magicians who pass through the In-Between. He knew first by Ptolemy’s pointing them out; now he knows them by their greedy, grabby hands and sharply paranoid eyes. In a sudden fit of concern, he sits up and examines himself, wishes for a mirror that does not appear. Is he one of those unpleasant souls too?

It’s just as he’s reassured himself that no, he has not suddenly morphed into a grasping, sucking vortex of greed and narcissism, that Nathaniel hears Ptolemy laugh from beside him. Laugh. Indignant, Nathaniel turns to find Ptolemy attempting to sit up, but unable to for the giggles that shake his frame.

“What? What’s so funny?”

Ptolemy is still snickering, but has managed to right himself at last. “Nothing! It’s just that, I’m sure I reacted the exact same way when I realized I was a magician. Horror-struck gasp and everything!”

In a huff, Nathaniel turns deliberately away to face the glass door. It’s not until his pique abates that he thinks about what Ptolemy said.

There is another person with them in the In-Between, for a time. Confused and disoriented, she stares with wide, overwhelmed eyes at the doors until Ptolemy places a gentle hand on her elbow. He softly repeats the same words he’d offered Nathaniel and, like Nathaniel, she accepts.

Unlike Nathaniel, she ages from the teenager she’d arrived as to an old woman in the span of three new arrivals. Lines and circles—pentacles and runes—have tattooed themselves dark and sharp, then faded into parchment-frail skin by the time the fog lifts from her gaze. Eyes clear and sad and wise, she bids him and Ptolemy farewell before the second door. The ink on her palm matches the broken pentacle sketched on dark wood.

It’s only after she’s fully gone, the door shut silently behind her, that Nathaniel turns to Ptolemy with a serious look. The other boy seems very small, very young, all of a sudden.

He doesn’t have to say anything; Ptolemy just returns the look with a placid, “Yes. I was fourteen. It took a long time before I remembered even those years, though.”

They are quiet for a span. Then, “Why are you still here?”

“I'm waiting for someone.” Another pause. “Why are you?”

“I—” Nathaniel has to think about it. “At first, I stayed because making such a big decision on so little knowledge seemed like a bad idea, but now… I think I’m waiting for someone too.”

“Do you remember their name?”

Frustrated, Nathaniel shakes his head. Ptolemy gives a gentle smile.

“I’m not surprised; Rekyt’s name was the last thing I remembered.”

“Why, do you think?”

“Probably because it was the most important.”

“What do you see?”

Nathaniel asks this to shake Ptolemy out of one of his sullen, contemplative moods. He gets like this sometimes, in long spans between arrivals. The doors invoke a frustrated silence and so he sits, cross-legged, and stares.

He breaks the stare at Nathaniel’s question.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Who else is there?”

Nathaniel plops down next to his friend, pushing the irritatingly long hair from his face to better watch Ptolemy’s expression. Brows drawn down over dark eyes relax out of their frown, slowly. He points to the leftmost door.

“That one looks like the city gates. Alexandria’s gates, I mean. I never got to see the world through them.”

The finger shifts right.

“That one is as I once saw it, the four elemental gates between our world and the Other Place. It tempts me, I must admit.” He stops for a moment, sighs. “Rekyt might be through there. But then, I would not be myself enough to remember him. I couldn’t bear that.”

Ptolemy is quiet for a long time. Question after question pushes at Nathaniel’s tight-closed lips while the other boy practically glares at the third door.

“That one,” he finally says, “looks like the doors in Alexandria’s library. So much knowledge behind a door I cannot yet unlock. It galls me, Nathaniel. I want to know what’s beyond—I need to know.”

They sit and look together for a while. Then Nathaniel asks, tentatively,

“Do you think he’ll want to go with you? When he does get here?”

Ptolemy’s shrug is almost desolate.

“I don’t know. But I’m not sure I could go without him. We were meant to explore the worlds together you know, before I had to go and ruin it all by dying.”

This is more grim than either boy usually allows the conversation to turn. Seeming to sense this, Ptolemy shifts his ever-burning curiosity from its current, frustrated subject to Nathaniel.

“What about you? Have your doors changed? Some people’s do, you know.”

Nathaniel shakes his head and rises to examine the doors more closely. His fingers brush the silver handle of the left door.

“No, they’re the same. But I think more familiar, now. This door was one I went through often. Maybe for work? This one—”

The center door pulls him up short.

“I’m afraid of it. When I was very young, I think it was something horrible. But the pentacle is wrong for that memory.”

Ptolemy nods, pensive.

“What you described sounds like something I worked on, in life. A broken pentacle to let your spirit flow to the Other Place.” Then he brightens considerably. “Maybe you read my book! I left all the appropriate notes; maybe someone—maybe Rekyt—finished it!”

“It’s possible. I certainly recognize you. Maybe there was a picture of you in it. Always in my mind, I see your shadow and… And…”

Nathaniel feels his existence flicker and suddenly his eyes are nearly of a height with the pentacle on the center door. The long hair is gone, now cropped short against his head.

“Kitty!”

Her sheer presence in his mind bowls him over, knocks him flat—just as that punch had, when they were so young. Her memory alone takes his breath away, is light incarnate, but there’s a certain quality about light:

The brighter the glow, the more the shadows stand out

Nathaniel is the one taken to brooding by the doors, now. Maybe talking about his fears had eased Ptolemy’s frustration, for he is calmer in the silence. Nathaniel, though, stares at the doors and fights with his mind.

Dimly, he finds this sensation familiar. In life, he thinks, I often fought with myself like this. Forcing my mind to do my bidding. If only it worked now.

Shadowy thoughts and feelings swirl around two points. Kitty’s bright aura lights some of them with its shining glow, but the black hole with Ptolemy’s silhouette darkens all that come near. Why can’t he remember?

One thing he can remember whirls ‘round and ‘round his head whenever he looks at the center door:

Demons are wicked and will hurt you if they can. Demons are wicked and will hurt you if they can. Demons are wicked and will hurt you if th—

Incessantly it repeats until Nathaniel has to flee.

Last time, he’d turned from the doors and from Ptolemy and stalked off into the empty vastness. This had gone about as well as could be expected. The blank expanse of white stretched forever, but the doors never got any further away, no matter how far he walked.

This time, he deliberately paces from the three doors to the distant single one. It is the same as ever, all shining glass and dull iron.

(For all the glass shines, it never shows what’s behind.)

He’s still there, forcing his breathing to calm—he only ever needs to breathe when the fear gets like this—when the glass door swings and he’s bathed in brilliant light.

At Ptolemy's suggestion, Nathaniel has accompanied the other boy in his guidance of many new passers through the In-Between. The ritual is always the same. No one has ever tried to call Ptolemy by any name, even the wrong one like Nathaniel did, so Ptolemy gives it freely. The arrival gives theirs in return, then manifests from an amorphous collection of matter into their truest form under his touch.

This is nothing like that. In fact, it’s the exact opposite.

The soul before him is an awesome collection of light, the likes of which Nathaniel has never seen in his time here. He actually stumbles backwards, so fierce is the glow. Before Ptolemy has even approached, Nathaniel finds himself addressed by the new arrival.

“Nathaniel?”

And the shining presence is so familiar. He reaches out, almost afraid, and finds his fingertips pressed to those of an old woman. Her blistering aura collapses itself into a body much shorter than his own, much older, with an expression on her face so blindingly nostalgic he forgets to step back before she launches at him.

“Nathaniel, you absolute prat!”

He raises his arms to fend her off with a yelp of, “Kitty, wait! I don’t—”

But the protest dies in his throat when he realizes she’s dragged him into a tight hug.

The contact is novel; as a rule, he and Ptolemy don’t touch. It seems like an odd thing to even want in this place, where bodies are obviously a construct of their own minds. Nathaniel doesn’t remember having any affectionate physicality in his life on earth, either—having or wanting— but this shakes something loose in him.

His lifted arms come up to return the embrace, and for a moment he’s holding not an old woman, but a girl barely his senior—silver tresses interspersed liberally with glossy black where her head tucks under his chin. The moment ends, but the strength of her hold does not, and they don’t part until a polite cough sounds from behind them.

A deep-seated, gentlemanly instinct sparks in Nathaniel and he turns, hand at Kitty’s back, to face Ptolemy.

“Kitty, this is—”

“Ptolemy!”

The boys’ reactions are simultaneous—Nathaniel’s a put-out frown, Ptolemy’s a confused tilt of the head—when Kitty steps forward to place marveling hands on Ptolemy’s thin shoulders.

“I always knew he was a stickler for accuracy, but to see you in person... After everything Bartimaeus told me, it’s so wonderful to meet you!”

Before she can continue, Ptolemy holds up a hand.

“Wait. Before we talk properly, and we most certainly need to, I need to tell you a few things about this place.” He glances quickly at Nathaniel, then back to Kitty. “Come with me, this won’t take long.”

Holding her hand, Ptolemy leads Kitty towards the three doors and Nathaniel doesn’t follow. This is a personal revelation, deeply intimate and best only shared with one other person—definitely not to be shared with a boy who only mostly-remembers you.

Nathaniel stays behind and the name Kitty mentioned eats at him in the quiet. He’d said it too, when he first arrived: Bartimaeus.

Other names have no business in front of this first door—the dispassionate portal of glass and iron seeks only the name of the arrival and that of the guide. So who is this Bartimaeus, to be so important to not one, but two people’s afterlives?

Rather more to the point, why is one so important such a black hole in Nathaniel’s memory?

Ptolemy and Kitty haven’t come up for air once since Kitty arrived—Nathaniel leaves them to it. He is obviously missing a key piece of the puzzle the three of them make up and Ptolemy has gone so long without a confidant like Kitty. Nathaniel can’t begrudge him that.

He picks up Ptolemy’s duties fully. On first arriving, he’d been convinced this was a job he could never do; that Ptolemy’s ability to look past the strange and horrifying manifestations was fully unique. He was wrong. With the strict discipline he’s remembering was a hallmark of his life, Nathaniel firmly sets aside the gut-deep twist in his soul whenever a spirit manifests under his offered hand, and he guides them all on.

It gets easier. As different as each soul is, one from the next, Nathaniel finds it interesting to wonder what about each individual creates their form. A name is a catalyst; for some it seems to bind and chafe, for others it brings form and purpose. With all of them, though, it is not the name itself that seems to determine their form, and he marvels.

He is not Ptolemy; his manner is not the golden, shining, unconditional glow of the other boy’s. The best Nathaniel can give, the best he hopes to bring, is the truth of his empathy.

None of his arrivals choose to stay, and Nathaniel can’t decide if he’s grateful or envious. Grateful, because whatever he and Kitty and Ptolemy have, he doesn’t want to try and figure it out with a stranger hanging about. Envious, because what he wouldn’t give for that kind of conviction in choice.

The idea of choice consumes his thoughts. The hours before his death are still lost to him, but Nathaniel can feel a weight looming over them—a choice a lifetime in the making, bearing down on the end of that life. He knows himself, now. He knows the Nathaniel-before-death would never have made a choice like that unless— unless…?

Unless someone had shown him how.

Except, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how deep he delves, the only teacher he’s known in that regard is Ptolemy—but not just Ptolemy here, in the In-Between.

Strange, intrusive memories now plague him constantly. London is burning, demons are exulting, and the spices of Alexandria’s markets burn in his nose?

He is alone; he is one with another. He is carrying someone; he is being carried, a passenger borne along by a presence inside of himself.

One moment, Pestilential tears burn into his vision—the next he’s squinting through a lion’s mane, tangled around his face and needing to be spit from his mouth.

Against Ptolemy’s advice, Kitty eventually approaches. She’s got that blazing look in her eyes, the one that captivated and terrified him so in life—the one that means she’s about to fix the world or die trying. He waves her off.

“But Nathaniel—”

“No, Kitty. I’ve seen what happens when someone is forced through this. It’s not a sight I wish on you.”

Nor anyone.

They are stubbornly locked like that for long minutes. Meeting her glare-for-glare feels so achingly familiar, and yet so foreign because that’s the wrong soul behind the right eyes. Frustrated beyond measure, Nathaniel tears himself away and scrubs a hand through his military-short hair.

How dare this Bartimaeus? How dare they take the best of his life and the peace of his afterlife—take them and twine them up in confusing, inaccessible memory?

The glass and iron door creaks. Nathaniel generally makes an effort to project calm when he approaches the arrivals, and he makes the effort now. Only, it’s not working. A scowl still draws his brows in as the great door swings open, and it only starts to fade at the sight of the ragged, bedraggled essence that tumbles through.

Nathaniel has seen spirits like this before, stretched thin and weary. Many spirits he’s guided have immediately chosen the second door. This kind, though? These are the least threatening, and they always choose the third door.

(he always imagines their trailing rags of essence twining into braid-y patterns, like cables on a cardigan)

Even with his ire simmering so close beneath the surface, Nathaniel crouches just a bit to reach out a hand to this newcomer. He doesn’t know what he expects—never knows exactly what to expect—but suddenly images flash in his mind before the spirit takes form.

(frail and gasping, a frog pooling iridescent fluid over marble tile)

(the weakest whirl of sulfurous smoke, dim yellowed eyes peering out)

(a slime-composed pyramid, edges barely defined and smelling distinctly of fish chowder)

He reaches out.

They do not touch, exactly. They are apart, and then, all of a sudden, they are not.

Nathaniel has not had a body in an immeasurable amount of time, but suddenly he remembers the feel of it—remembers the wonder of another experiencing it as a structure of delicate construction—remembers the rush of exhilaration even as that rush fills him anew.

It rushes out of him just as quickly, a sandstorm of iridescent intent stealing out of him on a breath he hadn’t remembered holding. No longer connected, he and the spirit face one another as it takes form at last under his hand.

(His hand has blisters now, never allowed to scar over.)

Both a whirling vortex of night-sky-stars and a glowing conflagration, the spirit materializes—the melancholy of the mutilated Other Place, ripped off and alone, melded with a blinding love of the human soul. It is a humanoid silhouette, Nathaniel’s height and build, with a familiar outline of curly, Macedonian hair, and an aura around darkness that’s bright as noonday splendour.

“And to think, I thought you would be the last thing I saw before dying. Beats me how you managed to be the first thing after the fact.”

(It doesn’t echo in his head-heart-soul like before, but the voice rocks Nathaniel to his core anyway.)

Nathaniel laughs—right and sure and fully himself at last, he laughs. He laughs, and then he replies,

“As if I’d ever let you have the last word, Bartimaeus.”

Kitty appears beside Nathaniel, an amused grin quirking her lined face as she eyes Bartimaeus.

“You’ve changed. I’m surprised we all actually made it here, since you seem to absorb all of our best traits into yourself as soon as we die.”

If any features were readily available, Bartimaeus would be rolling his eyes. As it is, he steps forward to ruffle Kitty’s silver hair in a familiar manner. In that moment they are three—a solid, stable shape—bound together by a love that none of them could have reached on their own; a love that originated not of them, but outside of them.

That love thrums, an invisibly golden light pulsing with a tension multiple eternities old. Kitty and Nathaniel glance at each other, nod, then step out and away as one.

In the opening they make stands Ptolemy—small, somehow shy and looking suddenly different. All his ageless wisdom has fallen away and brown hands grip the white linen of his kilt. His scholar’s pallor has deepened to a wan, sickly thing and he’s shaking on unsteady legs. His swallow before he speaks is both visible and audible; he has to struggle past it before croaking,

“Hello, Rekyt.”

Bartimaeus says nothing. He doesn’t say a thing, but steps forward with purpose, two long strides carrying him forward—carrying him close enough to kneel before the boy and pull him by the shoulders into a tight embrace. Then he says something, murmurs it into the dark curls above Ptolemy’s ear, but it’s too soft for Nathaniel and Kitty to catch. As is right—it wasn’t theirs to hear.

For his part, Ptolemy is definitely crying. His face is buried in Bartimaeus’s shoulder and he’s shaking like a leaf—full-body shudders wracking his frame as his arms tighten their grip. The usually warm-but-slightly-guarded Ptolemy has never been so vulnerable in front of Nathaniel, not even that time in front of the doors, and the older—younger?—boy blushes.

Awkwardly, Nathaniel touches Kitty’s hand and makes to turn them both away, but a voice calls him back. Bartimaeus.

“A couple thousand years in Purgatory hasn’t cured you of your emotional constipation, Nat? Get over here, both of you.”

He still doesn’t move, and Kitty has to physically drag him, pull him down to join their friends—friends, he has friends—in a puddle on the ground. Like time, and physicality and everything else, temperature doesn’t really exist in the In-Between, but Nathaniel is warmer than he can ever remember being in life. It burns like a supernova in his chest.

They are all four in front of the doors—Nathaniel next to Kitty next to Ptolemy next to Bartimaeus.

“What do you see, Rekyt?”

A very long pause then, a bit bemused,

“Well, you. All three of you, all in a line just like we are now, but without me. So, a mirror that’s somehow got busted?”

Nathaniel and Kitty look just as confused as Bartimaeus sounds, but Ptolemy starts to laugh.

“What?”

Ptolemy only laughs harder, managing to get out,

“Rekyt, you are such a sap!”

“Am not!”

“You are so!”

“Oh yeah?” Bartimaeus crosses his arms, looking supremely offended, “How’s that?”

Ptolemy is still snickering, but has gotten the actual gales of laughter under control. With a valiant attempt at his usual serenity, he points to the left-most door.

“That—”

“Nathaniel,” Bartimaeus supplies promptly.

“—is the door back to the world of humans, of earth and sky and boundaries.” Ptolemy’s finger shifts, “That one—Kitty, right?—leads to the Other Place, and this last one…”

As if the implication has only just caught up to him, Ptolemy pauses, an unreadable expression on his face as his directing finger starts to lower. Nathaniel smoothly picks up the thread.

“The last one leads on. No one knows what’s behind it—an adventure into the unknown, you might say. Ptolemy’s right, you are a sap.”

No one speaks for a long, long while; each lost in their own thoughts. Then, Bartimaeus sighs,

“Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I’ve about had it with bouncing between the first two.” A gentle hand on Ptolemy’s shoulder. “What do you say? Should we bring these kids along on our long-postponed adventure?”

It’s as if a weight has been lifted off of the boy. He reaches up, tugs the hand off his shoulder and laces their fingers together. Eyes on the door, he reaches back unseeingly for Kitty’s hand. He finds it offered freely.

In her turn, Kitty reaches for Nathaniel as they step towards the plain, white door, but Nathaniel doesn’t take it. Kitty—dear, stubborn Kitty—digs her heels in and they all look back.

“Nathaniel,” she says, voice brooking no nonsense, “What are you doing?”

Nathaniel glances at the iron-and-glass door, then to the three, then back to his friends. A weight seems to be lifted off of his shoulders as well—a choice finally made.

“I’ll be along.” His smile is serene, scabbed and blistered hands clasped behind his back. “You three go on, it’s not like I don’t know where to find you.”

Kitty does not drop Ptolemy’s hand, but drags the other two back with her as she steps directly in front of Nathaniel, glaring up into his face. Before she can speak, though, Nathaniel continues,

“I know I didn’t exactly keep my last promise—”

“Too right, you didn’t!”

“—but I will, this time. I swear it.”

Tears are bright in Kitty’s eyes, choking up her voice and making her hands shake. Ptolemy squeezes her hand as he steps up beside her.

“He’ll catch us up, Kitty. After all,” the boy shoots Nathaniel a sly grin, “he knows we’ll come looking for him if he doesn’t. If we walk enough worlds, we’ll eventually make it back here to drag him along, if need be.”

His voice has the bite of a threat, but Nathaniel knows Ptolemy now—knows that under his friend’s teasing is approval. There should always be a guide.

Bartimaeus taps Kitty on the shoulder.

“Budge over, you two.”

They do. Bartimaeus steps forward, places hands on Nathaniel’s shoulders, and leans down to press a kiss to the boy’s forehead.

“Don’t be too long.”

Kitty and Ptolemy are suddenly there too, arms wrapped around him in tight hugs. Nathaniel nods, suddenly choked up himself. He remembers this feeling—the last thing he felt before the end. To be loved so much by even one, let alone three... It nearly breaks him.

“I will, I promise.”

The three draw back. They look at him, long and steady, then Kitty turns first to face the white door. Ptolemy is next, excitement clear in his bearing. Last to turn away is Bartimaeus, lingering to look back at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel’s expression is soft, not quite a smile.

“Go on. I’ll see you all soon.”

And they do.

The door clicks shut behind them.

Movement at his back, and he turns. The door of glass and iron swings silently open on invisible hinges. Nathaniel walks to meet it—through the flat, quiet whiteness of this dimension. A fall of essence imposes itself upon the space, tumbling through the door.

With a soft smile, a starburst of white burning in his soul, he says,

“Hello. My name is Nathaniel.”

fin

#The Bartimaeus Trilogy #the bartimaeus sequence #bartimaeus #Nathaniel #Ptolemy #bartimaeus trilogy #AvinRyd #fics of ryd

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rightsockjin · 4 years

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BTIP: Day 2

Summary: It’s day two and already, the drama has started! With two date cards out in the open, will Y/N get to go out of the villa? Alliances begin to form in Paradise and relationships blossom. What will happen when a new girl arrives and steals Jungkook’s attention? One word. Drama.

Rating: K+ (Suggestive)

Genre: Romance, drama, slight angst

Word Count: 11,423

This is the format that will be used from now on! I hope it’s not too long! If you want to be on the tag list, please send me an ask! Thank you for everyone who’s been reading it! enjoy!

~adminKim

Last Time on Bangtan in Paradise:

Y/N was caught in two compromising positions:

- “Are we interrupting something,” Seokjin asked, looking from you to the producer who instantly jumped back.

“Uh no. Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that her mic didn’t short out since she had gotten in the hot tub without removing it. I have to replace it now so I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t let me stop you from mingling.”

-Like a magnetic force, you felt yourself lean down. Taehyung was reaching up too, his wet hand was now at your neck. It was like a spell. You would never have done something like this before. You were always the kind of person to take things slow, but you had six weeks to fall in love and you realized that maybe you would have to speed up your regular process. Would you regret this later? Maybe. But in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Taehyung seemed to hit it off with two people:

That was when you noticed that he was holding hands with that brunette girl from earlier. All the blood rushed out of your face. Wasn’t it just minutes ago that you guys had almost kissed?

Jin protected you from the lustful gaze of the group:

“Jin, please tell me my dress isn’t see-through right now.”

Jin’s eyes snapped up to your face, “What no! No it’s not that it’s just…” he gulped, pulling you towards him and flipping your body so that he was hiding you from the rest of the men in the resort. He didn’t seem to care that your dress was getting his shorts wet. He held you close to his body.

“It’s really just plastered to your skin. I suggest you go and change if you don’t want people to stare.”

Y/N began to trust your producer:

“Yeah okay well the sound is fine. If you need anything you can just say my name and I’ll show up,” he tapped his head set, “at the risk of sounding incredibly creepy, I’m always listening.”

He tapped his head set, then without much more of a goodbye, he walked out of your room leaving you to stare after him with a crescent on your lips.

And the first date card appeared:

Yoongi looked at Jackson in shock. It was clear that he hadn’t expected to get the first date card. He seemed to be thrown thoroughly off guard.

“Me,” he asked, as Jackson handed him the slightly ripped envelope. He scanned the card as if he couldn’t quite believe it unless he saw it. His mouth was slightly open.

“You mean I have to wake up early? And I have to exercise?”

Next to him, Hobi laughed loudly clapping him on the back, “Be happy Yoongi! You have your pick of women for the first date in Paradise!”

Who will Yoongi choose? Will Jungkook ever get his chance to atone for his actions on the Bachelor? Will things heat up between Jin and Y/N?

Find out now! On Bangtan in Paradise!

It was maybe nine in the morning when you woke up. Namjoon had appeared in your room shortly after you rose to secure a mic on your waist with a tan band of fabric that hid under your tankini top then, without much conversation, excited. You wondered if he had gotten into any trouble for the way he had already conversed with you more than he should have in a day.

You weren’t sure at what time Yoongi’s date left but you had a gut feeling that he wasn’t going to ask you. This was confirmed when you walked out of your room and to the Cabana for some breakfast and Yoongi was missing. People were already up and chatting. You wondered how early everyone else had woken up.

You yawned. You had taken a late shower and partially straightened your hair the night before so you could curl it overnight with curlers. You hadn’t slept much since your nerves had gotten the best of you and it looked like it had all been in vain. You were not going on a date that day.

“Morning,” Seokjin said, sitting next to you on a stool. His face was pale with sunscreen and he was wearing a long sleeved surfer shirt. A straw hat on his head.

“You’re chipper today,” you giggled, rubbing a particularly thick blob of lotion into his cheek affectionately. Already, you felt somehow drawn to this man. His slight flirtations from the night before and the way he’d shielded you from the impure stares of the other men stuck in your mind. Whether it was romantic, or friendship wise, Seokjin was rubbing you the right way.

“It’s a beautiful day. There’s beautiful women,” he winked at you, “What’s not to be chipper about?”

You had no answer. Instead you asked the bartender for a mimosa and an egg sandwich. Seokjin watched you. Amused.

“Also…I’m hoping that the date cards start to roll in soon. I’m anxious to be the first to take you out.”

Your blood pressure must have dropped drastically and noticeably because Seokjin’s face went from hopeful, to terrified in a matter of seconds.

“Whoa, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You took a large gulp of your mimosa to get some sugar in your body. Panic filled you to the brim. You could feel the eyes of your fellow bachelors on you, all of them looking at you and Seokjin curiously.

“NO! I’m fine…I just wasn’t expecting…are you flirting with me?”

Jin laughed, “Kind of, yeah.”

What a stupid question. Of course he was flirting with you. That was the point of this show wasn’t it? You had never had someone be so blatantly express interest in you before.

“Oh.”

“Is,” he cleared his throat, “Is that okay?”

“Yes!” You almost screamed. The back of your neck burned. The small hairs there prickled. As covertly as you could, you glanced over your shoulder. In the same table as yesterday sat-what was her name?-Holly, across from Kitty and Taehyung looking miserable as you spoke to Jin.

A part of you felt guilty. As rude as they had been the day before, you weren’t the type of person to go after another person’s crush fully knowing that they had it. Another part kept yelling at you that it wasn’t your fault. You hadn’t actively sought out Jin. He had found you this morning and struck up a conversation.

“Well I’m glad,” Seokjin confirmed, scooting a little closer as you turned back around and took a bite of your sandwich.

“Me too,” you said, “But uh… I really think that Holly has a thing for you. Do you uh,” what were you doing? What were you about to say? You mentally argued with yourself for a second about the words that threatened to spill off of your lips.

“Do you maybe want to talk to her? Just to make sure that you don’t want to maybe date her instead?”

Seokjin’s shoulders sagged. Instantly, you knew you had said the wrong thing. Your heart raced.

“Ok wait hold on that was stupid,” you said. Waves of regret seemed to radiate off of the man before you. He had put his heart on the line and in seconds you had crushed it.

“Look if you’re not interested, that’s fine, but don’t pretend to be interested.”

He stood up but you reached for his forearm, stopping him from leaving. He looked back at you. Like in a movie, his hair flopped effortlessly. The sun hit him in the perfect way. Oh God you were an idiot.

“I’m interested, Jin. I don’t know why I said that. I’m really sorry.” Jin’s angelic face didn’t show any expression. He looked at you as if for the first time.

“Yeah well, maybe you’ve got a point. We should both really try to meet multiple people to make sure that what we want is each other.”

He carefully pulled his arm from your grip. A dazzling smile replaced the plain expression he bore only seconds before. The sudden change gave you whiplash but before you could comment, he walked over to the table of hell and leaned down next to Holly. You couldn’t hear what he said, but from where you sat, you could see her face light up.

Seokjin held a hand out for her to take and she did so eagerly, jumping from her seat. Kitty watched them walk away with a satisfied smile. You felt your heart sink. Your self-sabotage had kicked in without warning and had done exactly as it was meant to. This is why things didn’t work out for you. If the filter from your brain to your mouth worked better, maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess.

You let your shoulders slump, looking out into the ocean where Jin and Holly were now taking a walk. Suddenly, you realized that you were in genuine danger of going home before the show had even started. You looked back at your sandwich, which was growing cold, sadly. You slowly ate the rest of the egg and discarded the bread.

You sipped on your mimosa absentmindedly. You would have to think of some way to keep yourself entertained. It was clear that Jin was occupied. You glanced over at Taehyung who was chatting idly with Kitty and a new arrival, Yumi. On the beach you could see Hoseok and who looked like Jimin watching the waves.

Soobin and Yeonjun were sitting in beach chairs, their shirts off. Sunglasses on. Wow. They were…pretty well built. Alex was sitting in the pool chair next to them. She was wearing a cute pair of beige shorts and a bandeau-like striped blue bikini top. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, her small face was partially hidden by a pair of big circular glasses. She seemed calm enough. Which surprised you since last night she was uncomfortable with Jackson and his own display of muscle.

You wondered if you should just go and talk to her instead of worrying about the guys. It would at least help to talk to her for a little while and try to forget the stupidity that you’d just displayed.

You got up, intent on doing just that when a voice stopped you. Before you, walking into the cabana in some blue swim trunks and a black surfer’s shirt. His hair was ruffled and he looked tired. Like he had tossed and turned all night and didn’t bother to fix himself for the day. Your heart skipped a beat. He was…so cute. You could remember what it was like to see him for the first time when you walked out of the limo. The way that the night seemed to frame his body perfectly and his smile was bright and excited. You could put yourself back in that place so easily. The place where you were in love with Jeon Jungkook. Why couldn’t you do that again?

“Good morning,” Jungkook said, his teeth on full display. His body language was confident and cocky. If you didn’t look at his face you wouldn’t notice the hint of uncertainty that flashed in his brown eyes.

“Good morning…” you said gesturing with your hand for him to continue. He looked confused as he sat in the stool next to the one you had previously been occupying. He towered over you. He rested his arms on the bar as the bartender, you think his name is Jorge, came over to take his order.

“Good morning…did you sleep well,” he asked before turning to Jorge and ordering a glass of milk and some pancakes.

You, not realizing that you were expecting something, were disappointed by his answer. You weren’t sure what you had wanted him to say, but it wasn’t that. Maybe an apology. An explanation now that you were ready to listen? Your name?

“Yep, Slept well. Anyway, nice talk, I’m going to go talk to Alex,” you answered rather dryly. Jungkook blinked at you. His pancakes sat before him, beautifully decorated with strawberries and bananas. Warmed syrup sat next to them and his milk was placed in a fancy wine glass with a sprig of mint. Jungkook didn’t notice any of that. Instead, he was looking at you in what appeared to be fear.

“Later Jeon,” you said then walked away, your blue flip flops hitting your heels lightly as you walked towards the beach.

Jungkook didn’t follow you. For this you were grateful. You didn’t think you could take the humiliation of him still not remembering your name after all this time. You would think that if he cared enough, he would have figured it out. You were a viral laughing stock after all. You were not going to stick around and be embarrassed again.

The day’s sea air was cool on your skin. Today you had remembered to wear sunscreen and the wind wafted the smell up to your nose. The sun was hidden behind some harmless looking clouds and the ocean roared in the background. It was then that you realized just how beautiful Playa Escondida (Hidden beach) was. The hundreds of palm trees that resided between the multiple areas of the villa made it feel that much more secluded. Obviously, you knew that you weren’t alone and the cameras that you spotted here and there were proof of that but if you closed your eyes, this would be the very definition of paradise for you.

Flowers were blooming in trees and in bushes of all sorts. Colors seemed to drown out the grey of the day. You couldn’t help but smile. You guessed that getting your heart broken would be best in a beautiful place like this.

As you neared Alex and the two tall men, you were intercepted. Jackson stood before you, his smile subtle. He was now wearing a shirt much to your dismay and a pair of swim trunks with red geometric patterns you couldn’t quite make out. He was barefoot and a tiny bit sunburned. His arms were crossed over his chest. It was like he knew something you didn’t.

“Uh…hey,” you said, taken aback.

Jackson chuckled. It felt almost deprecating though not malicious. You looked around for any signs of what he wanted to say. When the only thing that met you were his confusing actions you relaxed and waited for him to say something.

“Y/N, can I call you Y/N?”

“Uh…yes.”

“Look, I’m not trying to be rude, you’re really attractive and I can see very well why these guys want to date you, but I am not one of them.”

He said nothing else. Just waited patiently for your reply. What was going on here? The only logical explanation to you was that someone had said something to him about you and he was trying to clear the air?

“Alright, well…I think I’ll survive,” you told him, trying to walk around him but he followed you, blocking you from leaving.

“Okay good,” he confirmed, “Now that we have that out of the way, I really think we should form an alliance.”

For a second, you thought that he was joking, but his expression was serious and inquisitive. Why on earth would you need an alliance?

“An alliance?”

“An alliance.”

You waited patiently for him to explain but when he didn’t you sighed and crossed your arms.

“What do you mean, Jackson?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he laughed, gesturing to the bed under a small room that was situated close to us. With a sigh you obliged and sat on the edge of the mildly sandy bed. Jackson plopped onto it rather ungracefully, making you bounce a bit. A surprised noise was ripped from your throat. Jackson giggled.

“Okay so here’s what I’m thinking. Things are going to get difficult really fast and when that happens, we’re going to need someone that we can trust. A confidante. A safe haven. A sort of uh-”

“A friend?”

Jackson’s face brightened, “A FRIEND! Exactly! Yes, that’s what we will call it. Friendship! No one will know that we’re in cahoots if they just think they’re friends.”

“Or,” you paused waiting for him to look at you, “We could just be friends? Just a thought.”

Jackson scrunched up his nose, “I like the way you think Y/L/N. Friends it is.” He held out his hand and shook yours without waiting for you to take his. He nodded then crawled up closed to you so he could lower his voice.

“Now that we know our game plan, I have some rules.”

“Okay,” you giggled. The more he spoke the more funny he seemed to become.

“Rule number one. And this is the most important one okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed.

“If, for some reason, neither one of us has a person at a Rose Ceremony, then we give each other roses. So that we can get a chance to meet someone.”

You puckered your lips. It seemed reasonable enough. You were giving each other the chance to continue with the show.

“Okay and that’s only if we are both single right?”

“Boy you catch on fast Y/L/N.”

“Hey!”

He ignored your outburst, “Rule number two, if we hear something that would make the other one of us sad or angry, we tell each other. No questions asked.”

“Alright, okay yeah I can do that. Anything else?”

This time Jackson hesitated. His cheeks blushing slightly. He looked away from you, towards where Alex, Yeonjun, and Soobin were sitting. You followed his gaze. A seagull flew over the trio. A wave of sea water flowed dangerously close to the chairs but none of them seemed bothered.

“Rule number three…we’re each other’s wing men,” he sputtered when he looked back at you and your eyebrows were raised, “wing woman? Wing people? We help each other alright? If I ask for some help with a girl, you talk me up and I on the other hand will help you with…” he blinked at you as if he was thinking hard, “I’ll help you with men. No matter who it is you want. I will help you get them. Ok?”

He looked at you expectantly. A question on his face. You raised your own eyebrows at him. Again waiting for an explanation at his weirdly specific rule.

“You understand what I am saying?”

“I think I do,” you said not entirely sure if you did but you supposed you would find out soon enough.

“Okay, good. Now that I said that…do you happen to be interested in… anyone?”

At that point, you sighed and threw yourself onto the Mexican handmade comforter roughly.

“That bad already?” Jackson asked, adjusting so that his head was next to yours. You both looked up at the little canopy made of straw. The salt smell of the ocean hit you harder then. In the distance, you could hear laughter and…what sounded like a dolphin?

It was day two and already you felt like crap.

“So, you know Seokjin,” you asked Jackson.

“Kim Seokjin. The really good looking one? Or are we talking about the other one?”

You rolled your eyes. Jackson was really easy to talk to. Something about his easy going nature had you spilling your heart out.

“No oh my Lord. The handsome one,” you giggled.

“Ah alright, so what about Kim Seokjin.”

You hesitated only for a second. You were going to go talk to Alex about this anyway right? Why not just tell Jackson instead? He was free and Alex was clearly busy enjoying her time sunbathing.

“So, since yesterday, he showed interest in me and this morning he flirted with me I guess? And then I stupidly pointed out to him that Holly liked him and told him to explore that connection and not only did he take what I said to heart, I think he doesn’t want to court me anymore…”

Jackson chuckled, “Court you? What century are you living in Y/N? No one courts anyone. It’s all about talking and dating now.”

You blew a raspberry, “I know… but Seokjin seemed the type to want to court someone. Something slow and respectful. I don’t know. Maybe I sound crazy but-” you cringed, there was another Easter egg for the editors, “I want a guy who does things right you get me?”

Jackson rolled his shoulders next to you, “Well what exactly is the right way to do things?”

You thought about it. Though you had spent so much time thinking about what the perfect relationship for you would be, you let yourself picture it once more before you let yourself speak.

Cautious conversation. Careful touches. Nervous actions. Soft smiles. Multiple dates and hangouts with your person. A secret code that just you two knew. He looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.

You conveyed this to Jackson in as little words as you could. He listened intently, nodding every once in a while. Never interrupting, never judgmental. You realized more and more that whomever ended up with this man was going to be extremely fortunate.

When you finished, Jackson took a second to consider what you had said.

“Well, from what you are telling me, I feel like Paradise is going to be a bit difficult for you. A man dedicating his time solely to you is a little hard here. You would be better off with someone not in the competition.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his weird stress on the end of the sentence. Was he perhaps suggesting that you left the show?

“Well I mean, yeah. I realize that, Jackson, but it’s really hard to meet people. This is another good way to meet someone. I get that focusing on me would be hard but I’ve seen it done before.”

“I hear you. You’re right, this is a good way to meet people. Keep your eyes open. I’m sure that there’s someone here for you.”

You smiled up at the canopy again, “Thanks Jackson. It feels good to get that off my chest.”

“What are friends for?”

You lay next to each other in silence for what felt like hours. In reality, it was probably minutes.

You watched your chest rise and fall with your breath, the red of your ruffled swimsuit fluttering over it.

“What about you, Jack?”

“What about me, Y/N?”

You groaned. Must he be difficult? You sat up so you could look at him directly. Jackson did the same, looking over his shoulder at you, “Do you have any interest in anyone yet?”

Jackson looked away from you again. His gaze unfocused. You followed it out of habit and noticed that it was directed at the trio from before. Yeonjun was pouring sunscreen on Alex’s shoulders. Soobin was stretching. His muscles rippling under the dim light.

Jackson looked back at you. His features seemed to be devoid of any emotions.

“Not yet.”

It was maybe three in the afternoon when you finally listened to your stomach’s protests and pleas. After your conversation with Jackson, you had decided that both of you needed a little distracting so you suggested you both took a dip in the water.

The words had barely left your lips before he had ripped his shirt off in excitement. It was comical even. It was like he was waiting for any excuse to be shirtless and you didn’t blame him. You could tell that he worked extremely hard on his body and if you worked half as hard as he seemed to be working, you would probably strut around in next to nothing as well. Sadly, this was not your reality, so you shed your shorts self-consciously and folded them neatly on the mattress.

You had spent the next six-ish hours having Jackson teach you how to surf. He’d assured you that he was a fantastic surfer but as soon as he had gotten on the surfboard, he’d been toppled by the waves. Water ran into his nose and he insisted that he was better than he seemed to be and convinced you to just take his word and let him guide you.

To his surprise, only an hour into a lesson with him, you had surfed your first wave. Jackson had been shocked but ecstatic. He’d found a second surf board, or more so asked the staff to bring another one and challenged you to multiple races at sea.

You could feel the slight sunburn on your shoulders already and slightly under your eyes. You should have been more vigilant with your sunscreen. Luckily, you had remembered to bring some Aloe in case of an emergency and you reapplied the protectant to your body.

Now you sat in the cabana once again at the bar, this time with Jackson at your right. The crew had brought some local tacos for the bachelors to share. You had taken the tripe, and Jackson had taken some beef. He’d given you two of his and you had switched him for two of your own. You squeezed some lime and added some salt on your tacos as he watched in disgust.

“It’s good,” you argued, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Whatever you say.”

“Try it,” You urged.

“If I try it, then you have to try my protein shake.”

Horror filled you to the brim. You remembered from his season of the bachelorette the concoction of foods that he considered breakfast. It was packed full with apples, bananas, and spinach. Then he took it further and added broccoli and chicken. It looked stomach churning.

“Hell no. Eat your bland ass tacos. I’m happy knowing you’re missing out.”

Jackson laughed. Just like the morning, you could feel eyes on the back of your head. Farther down the bar, Jungkook was talking to Yumi. Her long black hair was pulled into a ponytail. She was absolutely adorable. A part of you that hadn’t yet let go of the idea of you and Jungkook got slightly unsettled, but the bigger part of you, the angry part, shrugged it off.

You could see, right before you turned back to your meal, that he was shooting glances at you. You took your Corona beer and bit one of the limes on your plate before taking a swig of the golden liquid. Beer wasn’t your favorite form of alcohol but you couldn’t fathom the idea of eating good tacos without a Corona. Either way, this one wasn’t too strong tasting and the lime made it taste that much better.

“Don’t look now but I think one Kim is looking at you,” Jackson said leaning in close to you. A thrill went through your body. If Jin was looking at you, maybe all hope was not lost.

“What do I do,” you asked, feeling a small amount of panic to run through your body.

“Well, don’t look for one-Y/N!”

It was involuntary. If someone told you not to do something, you had to do it. It was like a tick. So as soon as Jackson had said not to look, you jerked your head behind you, back to where you had seen him sitting with Holly, Taehyung and Kitty to see for yourself.

What you were met with was the back of the heads to Jin and Taehyung. They must have seen you turn and turned back to their…uh dates?

“Jackson, was it Jin or Taehyung who was looking at me,” you asked, realizing they had the same last name.

Jackson opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Soobin who sat on your left. Alex and Yeonjun sat next to him accordingly. You smiled up at the giant of a man.

“Hey Soobin! How has your day been so far?”

Soobin smiled brightly and turned towards you. His knees bumped yours because of the sheer length of him. You scooted back to accommodate him and he ducked his head, embarrassed.

“Hey Y/N, sorry, it was nice. I think I took a nap earlier and I got a pretty weird sunburn,” he said, and now that you looked at him, he was wearing a long sleeve shirt and the area around his neck was really red.

“Oh no… I got a little burned as well. Do you have some Aloe?”

Soobin ruffled his hair, “Yes. I packed some.”

“Oh alright. I was going to offer you mine.”

The conversation lulled then. You could hear people talking all around you. You looked over at Alex from next to Soobin. You smiled but she wouldn’t meet you in the eye. You frowned. She looked a little standoffish.

“Soobin,” you whispered so that he would lean in closer, “Is everything okay with Alex?”

Soobin’s eyes widened. He looked from you to Alex then back at you. Instantly, you could tell that whatever he said next was going to be a lie.

“She is a little sad that she didn’t get to uh... go on the date.”

Soobin scrunched his cute nose and shrugged his shoulders. You couldn’t be sure but based on what Yoongi told you, Alex had made it clear she didn’t want to go.

“Oh I see. Thanks for telling me.”

You turned back to your tacos, only to see that you were missing one. From your right, Jackson coughed and put a napkin to his mouth. You snapped your gaze to him and couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. In his hand was your missing taco which, unbeknown to him, was covered in lime, salt and green salsa.

The salas and lime oozed out of the back end of the tortilla. You watched him down a glass of water.

“This is what you get for being a thief.”

“I was still hungry!”

You rolled your eyes at your friend. Too distracted by the over dramatic gaging that Jackson was doing, you didn’t notice the tension in the Cabana.

It wasn’t until you heard a new female voice that you realized something was up.

“Hey guys,” Jackson’s eyes widened, looking somewhere over your shoulder. You looked over your shoulder. There, in the middle on the Cabana entrance stood none other than Marie. Her kinky hair was styled half up. She was wearing a sheer blue dress and in her manicured hands was a crème envelope.

The second date card had reared its ugly head.

Marie walked over to Jungkook first, hugging him and introducing herself. Instantly, the annoyingly cute act that you had become accustomed to on your season of the bachelor was present. She had been eliminated in a rose ceremony before you. She displayed the face of an angel at first, but as soon as your back was turned, it was all gossip. You had had a bad feeling from the beginning and when you had walked in on her speaking to another of the girls about how ‘fake’ you were, all your suspicions were confirmed.

She moved onto Yumi. Her bright blue, green eyes narrowed slightly. She was looking for ammunition. She talked to Yeonjun next. She was clearly interested in him right off the bat. She twirled a curl in her hands making brief conversation before she winked at him then moved onto Alex.

Alex seemed less than happy to be touched by Marie. She smiled awkwardly but Marie didn’t waste much time on her. She moved onto Soobin. Though instantly, you could see that he was far too tame for the wild child that was Marie and she seemed to notice it as well.

From Soobin, she took a detour and introduced herself to the table Taehyung and Jin were sitting at. The two boys stood and hugged her politely. Marie held on a little too long to both men. Holly and Kitty glared. You chuckled. Kitty really thought that she was the main runner on this show. Marie was ten times worse than that woman. The enemy of my enemy right?

Finally, Marie walked towards you, her smile faltering slightly. A slew of Camera men and producers had followed her into the Cabana. It was clear they were expecting something to happen. Most likely, they wanted to make sure they caught the interaction between you and her. You wouldn’t give the cameras the satisfaction.

“Y/N! I’m so glad to see you,” she said hugging you before you could protest. You patted her back.

“Marie, how have you been?’

“Swell,” she said, pulling away, “I’m so glad to be back here! It looks like we both got a second chance at love huh?”

“Right, I-”

But she wasn’t much more interested in you. She walked past you and hugged Jackson. Your heart sank. You could feel the eyes on you. Pitying.

You looked out into the sea of cameras and noticed Namjoon was behind one of the men. He had his clipboard and headset on. His eyes met yours instantly, what was meant to be a hiss and an apology escaping his lips. This was one curve ball he hadn’t told you about. You couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him though. This must have been why he had rushed out of your room earlier that day. He didn’t trust himself to not tell you. You smiled a tight lip smile to signal you were fine. Tears welled in your eyes. The feeling of being ignored or unimportance filled you. You refused to cry. You were an adult. Adults didn’t cry.

“So guys,” Marie began and you swiveled your chair to look at her, now at the opposite end of the cabana, “I do have a date card here. Should I open it?”

A chorus of excited encouragement met her question. She preened at the attention. You struggled to not roll your eyes at her. She opened the envelope rather roughly. Another person who hadn’t gotten the memo that the envelope wasn’t glued shut. She ripped the card inside a little. She giggled at her own incompetence but pushed it aside. Slightly in front of you and to the left was Jackson, his shoulders erect and at attention. He was still not wearing a shirt and you could see Marie ogling his muscles.

“Marie, find a guy that suits your fancy and dress to impress. Your date leaves tonight.”

The riddle was obvious. It was a date where you had to wear something fancy. Possibly a dinner? Either way, it was sure to be amazing if the producers had anything to say about it.

“Who should I pick,” she asked rhetorically. The men in the cabana were all looking at her hopefully. All but one. Jungkook was practically hiding in his arms. He was trying to make himself as small as he possibly could.

“Jungkook,” Marie said, shocking everyone but yourself. Jungkook looked up from his self-made nest and looked up at Marie. There was a good six to eight feet between them but that seemed like it wasn’t enough. His eyes were open wide. Like a deer in headlights. A blush rose to his cheeks and he pointed to himself as if to confirm.

“Yes you silly,” Marie giggled, “would you go on this date with me?”

Silence. Disappointed silence followed her question. Everyone was looking at Jungkook expectantly. You couldn’t look at him, but you could tell he was looking at you.

“I…I guess?”

“Great,” Marie exclaimed, not noticing or caring about his hesitation, “see you tonight.”

Marie walked away then, a small crew of camera men followed her to the rooms. A couple other camera men and producers walked up to the contestants. Namjoon walked up to you. You could tell he felt guilty for not warning you this time around.

“Hey Y/N, we want to do a quick interview if you don’t mind. I also brought you some aloe for your sunburn and a replacement for your mic. You really need to take it off before you go into pools of water.”

“Maybe you guys should get waterproof mics,” you shot back but stood up and followed Namjoon. You looked back to see who else was getting pulled in for an interview. It was not surprising that Jungkook and Jackson were also flocked to. What you did find weird was that Jackson wasn’t looking at his producer. Instead, he was looking at yours.

You watched the two men exchange some strange looks before they both turned back to their jobs. That was undeniably weird.

You didn’t ask Namjoon. It was a brief enough look. It could have been anything. You let Namjoon and his camera man lead you closer to the ocean by a formation of pretty rocks. The waves crashed against them cinematically. Namjoon smiled.

“Here’s good Y/N. I’m just going to ask you some questions and I want you to answer them as if they’re happening in real time. So like ‘I feel that…in this moment I am doing…’ that kind of thing. Got it?”

“Got it chief,” you saluted, instantly cringing at your own actions. There you went again. Why were you always so cringy when he was around? To his credit, Namjoon chuckled and saluted back.

“Fantastic. Okay. So…tell me who arrived and what you are doing while she does.”

You groaned. The interviews were the absolute worst.

“So I’m sitting with Jackson,” you said cautiously, thinking hard about the tense of your words, “and I’m laughing at him because he stole my taco and it has a lot of salsa in it so he’s gulping down water.” You paused again thinking.

“I guess because I am so focused on that, I don’t notice when a new girl comes in.

“Okay great, now tell me how that made you feel,” Namjoon pressed, writing something on his clipboard.

“Well… we all know how much she likes me… so I am not exactly ecstatic about her arrival but she’s here.”

Namjoon paused and looked at you. He winced at your words.

“I’m really sorry to hear that Y/N. Uh… what did-you-feel-when- she-asked-Jungkook-on the-date?”

This last question, he seemed to spit out. He said it so fast that it almost was incoherent. You blinked at him but then it clicked.

“Oh um…I feel nothing really. I’m here for another chance at love and it’s not with Jungkook. He deserves that second chance as well. If it’s with a girl he’s already dated then so be it. But that’s not me.”

Namjoon let a sigh escape his lips. A small smile on his face.

“Okay well, last question. You and Jackson? Is that a thing or…”

“Me and Jackson are just friends.”

“Okay that should tie that up. Thank you, Y/N. Chris,” Namjoon now directed himself at the camera man, “You’re dismissed. I’m just going to mic her again and I’ll be back in a bit.”

Chris nodded and turned his camera off. When he was a decent distance away, Namjoon looked back at you.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t say anything Y/N. I had no way to say something without someone knowing. Can you turn around?”

You complied, “Is it okay if I pull your shirt up a little?”

“Uh yeah,” you said, holding your chest so it didn’t move too much.

“It’s not your fault. I’m sure you would have told me if you could or something. Careful, this is a swim suit. I’m not wearing anything under the top, Namjoon.”

“Wait what?” As if burned, he let go of your bikini top. It plopped against your skin heavily.

“Ow dude that hurt!”

“I’m so sorry,” he said instantly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just trying to switch your mic. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m fine, you’re fine. Just switch it.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Namjoon tentatively grabbed the edge of your top again and shimmied it up your torso. You felt his hands cautiously take the short circuited mic from the little compartment in the skin color band he’d helped you in that morning. His fingertips grazed your skin.

“How’s it looking boss?”

“I’m not the boss of you Y/N,” Namjoon said, “I’m just your handler.”

“I know Namjoon. Is my sunburn really obvious?”

Namjoon didn’t say anything. You felt him slip the new mic in the pouch and then flip the on switch. He fiddled with the knob of the volume for a second before he pulled your top over the tan band.

“Say something.”

“Namjoon is my handler and not my boss,” you laughed. You turned to look at him and noticed the blush in his cheeks. You’d missed him today. Maybe you would break more mics just to talk to him.

“Okay that should be good. Here,” he held out a blue, cold bottle of gel, “put this on. You’re starting to look a little past sunkissed.”

“Yes sir,” you said, eagerly taking the bottle of what you knew was aloe. You squeezed a small amount and plopped it on your shoulder. The cooling sensation was instant. Relief swept through you.

“Can you put it on my face? I can’t see where I need it,” you said holding it out to him as you rubbed it into your neck.

“Yeah, sure.”

Namjoon placed his clipboard between his legs then squirted a little lotion on his enormous hand. Your eyes widened as he took a single long finger and dipped it in the blob in his wide palm.

“Namjoon, your hands are huge,” you said.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, “maybe your hands are small. Did you think of that Y/N?” With the most careful touch he could muster, he evenly placed the cooling gel under your eyes and on the tip of your nose. He gently massaged it in. You closed your eyes enjoying the sensation. That is until he booped your nose.

“Hey!”

“Sorry I couldn't help it. You have a boopable nose.”

“Okay yeah whatever. Do I need some anywhere else?” you asked, turning so he could look at you. His eyes raked your body methodically, as if scanning.

“You look okay for now. Just keep putting sunscreen on and put more of this lotion on at night after your shower. I’ll leave it in your room okay?”

“I already have some in my room,” you pointed out.

“This one was in the fridge. It’s much more effective.”

“Fine. Take it to my room but it’s going to be not cold by the time I get there.”

Namjoon and yourself started to walk back to the cabana where people were still eating. Jackson and Jungkook seemed to be done with their interviews as well as they were back to their old seats.

“You underestimate me,” Namjoon feigned hurt, placing a hand over his heart, “just trust me.”

“I do. You might be number one of two people I trust at this moment.”

Marie was also back. She had taken Yumi’s seat at the bar, a long island iced tea in her perfect hands. She was laughing at whatever Jungkook had just said. Jungkook seemed a little less surprised now. He smiled kindly at her, not even glancing in your direction. You felt a little hurt. Maybe he wasn’t there for you. As you said your goodbye to Namjoon, you returned to your seat near Jackson. He looked downcast.

“Hey, did I miss anything?”

Jackson was looking at Marie and Jungkook. He swirled a finger in a green drink that you couldn’t identify.

“Maybe.”

You spent the next hour and a half taking a shower, doing a treatment on your hair, drying it, then straightening and curling it. The sun had not been kind to your hair over the last two days and in all honesty, you weren’t helping it but you couldn’t help trying to fix it. Your hair had a history of being unruly and frizzy. You wanted to tame it as much as you could.

You applied a thick layer of sunscreen on your body before changing into a weaved, tie-dyed navy blue dress and some brown sandals. Your hair was half up with some wispy hairs surrounding your face. When you were done, it was around five thirty. You waited in your room for a little longer, needing a small reprieve from people and cameras, at least physical cameras. You looked through your phone. Messaged your family that everything was okay then scrolled through social media. You were starting to doze off.

A knock at your door startled you awake. You checked your phone and realized that it was almost seven then. For a second, you thought you imagined the knocks but there they were again. You swung your legs off your bed. It must be Namjoon. He was the only one who knew which room was yours. Maybe he was dropping off the gel for sunburns. Regardless, you welcomed the idea of seeing him so you hurried over to the door and pulled it open without inquiring.

“Hey Nam- Jungkook?”

Alas, it was Jungkook who was behind your door, patiently waiting for you to open. He was dressed for his date already. He was wearing an obviously soft white button up with crystal buttons. The top two were left open. His muscular chest peaked out at you. His smart jacket was left open and was boxy. Stripes of darker black ran up his arms, one rested on the door frame, the other in the pocket of his black wide leg slacks. He seemed to be a little taller as well, unless you hadn’t noticed your height difference before then, but that seemed unlikely. He shifted his weight, his pants riding up slightly, and you noticed that his dress shoes had a slight lift.

A strand of wavy hair fell into his eyes. Fear was evident in them but also was that hope you saw?

“Yeah, hi,” he said, sticking his other hand in his pocket as well, then quickly thinking better of it and hiding both hands behind his body. You waited as he fidgeted for a bit longer. He was obviously nervous.

“Y/N,” you said as if to introduce yourself, “I was on your season of the bachelor.”

Jungkook blushed, his tattooed hand running through his hair to distract himself from your words.

“I knew that,” he assured, still not meeting your eyes.

“Well, if you say so, but you haven’t said my name once since you arrived here. I’m starting to think that you can’t physically say my name,” you joked. Behind him, you could see that a camera man had followed him. He must have told them something.

When he said nothing, you spoke again, “I don’t know if you’re looking for Marie but this is the wrong room.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, “Oh no! I came to find you.”

“Uh, why?”

You crossed your arms, genuinely confused. The card that Marie had read hadn’t been specific enough to tell the time but judging by Jungkook’s attire it was soon. So why was he here instead of with his date?

“I was waiting for you to come back to the cabana but you never did- to talk to you!- and so I went to get ready but I just really wanted to clear the air before…well before I went. Tell you why I’m going.”

“Jungkook, you don’t owe me an explanation for why you are going on another date.”

Jungkook looked taken aback, he scratched his nose. You could tell that he was hot in his outfit. His forehead was starting to sweat.

“I feel like I do,” he admitted, looking over your shoulder.

“Oh um, do you want to come in?” You stepped aside but Jungkook didn’t walk in.

“I just came to say that…I came here for you.”

Your heart stopped. You suddenly felt tiny and far away.

“When they offered me the spot here, in Paradise, I was going to turn it down but when they mentioned that you would be here…” he paused then took a deep breath as if it was hard for him to say, “When they said to me ‘Y/N is going to be there’ I didn’t hesitate.”

Suddenly, you didn’t know how to stand. You fidgeted with your dress, balling and unbaling your hands in the thin fabric.

“I needed to see you and while I realize that right now isn’t the right time to talk about all of this, I just want you to know…the first date card that I get, I will use it on you.”

Silence rang through your small room. Your heart was racing. You felt your mouth open and close but no words were leaving your mouth. Your brain had gone fuzzy. You didn’t know how to feel. What were you supposed to say?

Jungkook seemed to be waiting for you to say something, anything, but after a minute or so of you acting like a goldfish, he sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“I hope you will consider it Y/N,” he stressed, “have a nice night.”

And with that, he and the cameraman were gone.

It wasn’t a surprise to you that Namjoon showed up not too long after that incident with the same camera man from before. Your door was open wide and you were sitting on your bed. You were blank. All emotions seemed to have left you. You felt nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Maybe it would scare you if you could feel anything at all.

Namjoon knocked on the door tentatively, even though he could have walked in if he wanted to. In normal circumstances, you would have thought this was sweet of him.

“Y/N? Is it okay to come in?” He peeked his head around the corner. When his eyes landed on you, genuine concern shot through him.

“Chris, can you give me a minute to talk to her?”

You weren’t paying enough attention but Namjoon walked in cautiously and quickly looking around the room. In a matter of seconds, he had covered the multiple cameras that were hidden around the small space. He kneeled down before you. His legs spread so that your legs were between his own. He looked up at you, his big brown eyes scared and sad.

He raised his hands so that you could see them and you could, but you didn’t react. His hands were up like a stick up by his head. A question in his eyes. When you didn’t move, he began to lower his hands slowly. He placed them both on your knees. The sensation instantly grounding you from whatever place you had been floating.

“Namjoon I-”

Quickly, he held up a finger to your lips then pointed at his head set. You understood. They could hear you. Namjoon looked at your phone, which sat next to your body innocently. He grabbed it then held it up for you to unlock.

You took it from his hands and did as he implied, then handed it back to him. Quickly, he typed then held it up for you to read. His hand not holding the phone went back to your knee.

I wanted to check in on you before we interviewed. Are you okay?

You looked down at him. He raised an eyebrow as if to punctuate his text. You nodded. Air seemed fresher all of a sudden. You could feel your heart beating in your chest. Instead of a blank mind, it was once again buzzing. You touched your chest over your heart with your right hand. The thumping was confirmation. You were ok. Why had you reacted that way to Jungkook’s confession?

Namjoon watched you carefully. His eyes scanned you from head to toe. He squeezed your knee and it was then that you realized that he was touching you once again. Just like the last time, his touch was comforting to you. His warmth engulfed you.

I’m okay. Let’s get this over with.

You typed. You hesitated.

Thank you for checking on me…you’re a good friend.

You handed the phone back to him so he could read. He removed his hands from your clothed knees and read what you’d written. His lips stretched over his teeth, his dimples making an appearance. You felt your whole body buzz. You liked to be the cause of his smile. He must have read it over a couple of times, his smile kept growing.

He finally looked up at you. His white teeth showing- were they always this perfect?- his eyes sparkling. He winked at you then gave your knee one last squeeze before he stood up, uncovered the cameras and walked out to get the camera man.

You tried your best to pull yourself together, ruffling your hair slightly, then self-consciously combing it so it was flat to your head.

When Namjoon walked in, he was all professional. Any hints of the small moment you had shared before was hidden but not gone. He winked at you once more. A silent reminder that he had your back and even though the camera was around, you felt at ease.

The interview was quick and painless. You realized that if you pretended that you were talking to Namjoon instead of a camera, then it was much easier to get your feelings across. When you were done, Chris and Namjoon left together with a small bow and you felt much more ready to face the group.

You walked towards the cabana only to find that no one was there. You could hear voices in the distance. You followed the sounds of laughter. They were again by the pool and the jacuzzi. The sun was already setting. People were sitting around the pool and on chairs. Everyone seemed happy. Excited. You wished it could stay this way. But you had seen this show before. You knew it wouldn’t last. You were happy that you could enjoy it while it lasted.

Jackson was the first one to notice you. His shirt was off. You weren’t even surprised. He was dripping wet. Droplets of water slithered down his body and in the crevices of defined muscle. He smiled at you.

“Ayeee, Y/L/N! Where have you been?”

Jackson bounded up to you, his wet hair bouncing on his head as he ran closer to you. On instinct, you help your hands out to stop him short. He bumped right into your outstretched palm, his arms open as if he was going to give you a hug.

“No, no. I showered. I’m sunburned. I do not want you to get me wet.”

“How did you know I was going to do that,” he pouted.

“Instinct,” you shrugged, side stepping him. He followed you up to where the rest of the group was. Kitty and Holly were both in skimpy bikinis in the pool with Taehyung, who had also forgone his shirt. He wasn’t defined like Jackson, but you wouldn’t say that he was hard to look at. His hair was plastered to his head.

Jin was wearing the same swim trunks from earlier but he had changed into a more comfortable looking t-shirt. He was only dipping his feet and Holly was hovering around him. He wouldn’t look at you. Yumi was sitting a little bit away from him, looking like she wanted to talk to him, but the shark in the pool seemed to stop her.

Hoseok and Jimin were chilling in the hot tub. Both shirtless. Both, strangled tones. Under the blue light and slight bubbles, you could make out a tattoo on Jimin’s torso. Words of some sort that you couldn’t read. To your surprise, Alex was sitting in the hot tub with the two boys. Her head barely sticking out of the water. She might have even been floating because the hot tub was a little too deep. She also wouldn’t look at you.

Briefly, you remembered what Soobin had said to you about her being upset at not going on the date with Yoongi. Had she actually wanted to go and you and Yoongi misunderstood?

Soobin and Yeonjun were sitting at the shallow end of the pool sipping on beers and chatting. You hadn’t seen Yeonjun talk to anyone in the villa so far and he was highly attractive. Maybe he was waiting for someone specific. If he was lucky, over the course of the week, that person might arrive.

“Hey guys,” you said shyly, quickly realizing that you were off on the wrong foot with more people than you would have liked.

Yumi smiled and you thought of that as a safe invitation to sit next to her. You would give Alex some room and hopefully she would talk to you when she felt ready. Yumi’s smile brightened. You crossed your legs, making sure that your dress covered you up.

“Where have you been Y/N,” Taehyung said, swimming closer to you. Kitty wasn’t far behind.

“Yeah, we all totally missed you,” she said, a fake smile on her freckled face.

“I wanted to shower. I was covered in sand from surfing with Jackson all day,” you said with a light chuckle.

The aforementioned man chose that moment to cannon ball into the pool. A wave of water instantly covered you from your lap to your stomach. Shock was your first reaction. Indignation the second.

“Jackson!”

You looked over at Yumi, who had been wearing some cute jean shorts and a white top, and were horrified to see that she too had gotten soaked. From across the pool, you could hear Jin’s squeaky laugh and Holly’s ironically silent one. You glared at Jin but he only shrugged finally meeting your eyes. Maybe this would be punishment enough for you in his eyes. The day hadn’t been an easy one. What with Marie showing up, your brief lack of feeling and your weird habit of being completely soaked when you didn’t want to be. Did twice warrant a habit?

When Jackson surfaced and saw what he had done, saw the fire in your eyes, he cowered before he burst out laughing. He swam closer to you.

“Sorry Y/L/N,” he said hanging on the pool edge, “I swear I didn’t mean to get you wet I swear.”

You growled at him but before you could snap at him again, Taehyung’s hands were on your wet legs. Unlike Namjoon’s touch, Taehyung’s made you unsure and tense. Especially when Kitty was so close. He squeezed your calf softly. Your eyes snapped to him. His expression was sultry, his hair slightly wavy.

“You might as well come in. Your dress is already wet.” He picked at the seam as if to make his point. His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth innocently. It was so easy to be pulled into Taehyung’s bubble. It was smooth and dark. He made you feel like you were alone even when the room was full. Like a siren on sailors, he lured you in with his smooth voice and good looks and what came next, you weren’t sure.

“I-I can’t break another mic. Namjoon would kill me,” you said pointedly.

Taehyung rolled his eyes.

“They have like millions of mics. Come on,” he tapped the surface of the water, “It’s warm.”

“I can’t swim,” you lied, as if this would save you but you had gone into the ocean earlier and on a date where you needed to swim on the bachelor so no one was believing you.

Taehyung clearly knew this. His head tilted as if to say “Seriously?”

“I’ll protect you Y/N. I promise,” he found your ankles and gently unfolded your legs, pulling your feet, sandals and all into the illuminated pool. He was right. The water was warm from the day and the blue tint of the light was so inviting. Chlorine stung your nostrils and you could almost hear Namjoon’s exasperation at having to replace your mic twice in one day, but you let him pull you forward.

Yumi put a hand on your shoulder but your eyes were locked on Taehyung’s. He was temptation. He was the devil incarnate. He was lust like you hadn’t ever felt before.

“Get a room,” someone yelled, and only this broke your spell.

You looked around for the source and realized it had been Jimin. He had a wide smile on his plush lips. He giggled when you looked at him, his eyes squinting prettily.

“Be cool Min,” Taehyung chastised, caressing your calf. You could see Kitty fuming. She was watching the way that Taehyung was touching you. You wondered if he did this to her as well.

“You’re eye fucking her in public. Why don’t you be cool,” Jimin asked, stepping out of the hot tub and slithering into the pool. He shivered as the much cooler water touched his smooth skin. He swam over to you two, accidentally pushing the brunette girl away.

“Am not,” Taehyung argued, “Right Y/N?”

Both men looked up at you expectantly. You shook your head.

“I guess not.”

“See? Settled. Come one Y/N. Jump in the pool,” Taehyung pressured.

Like a switch, Jimin looked up at you.

“It’s nice and warm,” he singsonged.

“Come on Y/L/N, don’t be a weenie,” Jackson added. Your eyes widened. Jackson too?

You looked at Yumi, confusion on your face. Yumi blinked back at you, her pretty face nearly as confused as yours.

“What do you think, Yumi? Should I jump in?”

A chorus of your name began to go around the small group of people. Mostly the men save for Jin chanted it over and over.

“Do you want to?” She asked, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly.

“I’ll do it if you do it,” I bargained as the chanting became louder, “This way, at least my producer won’t be the only one upset.” Yumi chuckled, “Okay let’s do it.”

At Yumi’s proclamation the men cheered as if their favorite team had scored. Yumi stood and helped you up. She was such a gentle person. You wished you had talked to her sooner.

She held out her hand for you to take.

“Move out of the way,” You warned. They left you some leeway and you and Yumi gave yourself some room.

“On three?” She asked.

“Okay,” you agreed.

You counted down together, then on three ran towards the pool. You were submerged in seconds. The water pressed against your skin. When you came up, you were instantly pulled onto someone.

Your hand was torn from Yumi’s and your body pulled away. On instinct, you wrapped your legs around the person’s torso. You came face to face with none other than Kim Taehyung and his smug, triumphant smile.

“Hey there gorgeous,” he whispered, knowing that no one could hear. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest at his proximity. Memories of the day before plagued you. This time though, there were way more people around.

“Look who’s back,” Hoseok yelled. Grateful for the excuse to look away from Taehyung, you looked around wondering if Jungkook and Marie had come back early even though that didn’t make any logical sense.

Instead, you were met with the sight of a really smiley Julie and a softly smiling Yoongi. Their hands interlocked. They were casually walking closer to the group. Jackson wolf whistled and Hoseok clapped as they neared.

“Do I see a smile on your face, hyung?” Jimin yelled teasingly. From the short distance, you could see him roll his eyes.

“You have no respect, Park Jimin,” he yelled back but his smile only grew.

He was wearing a pair of black shorts and a nice summery blue shirt with some sandals. Julie was wearing a cute ruffled top and some high waisted shorts. Just by their outfits, you couldn’t tell what they had done. You were impatient to know. They seemed to have had fun on their date.

“How was the date,” Yumi asked as they finally neared enough to not have to yell. Julie smiled brightly at her and pulled her shoes off so she could dangle them in the pool. When she noticed that Yumi and yourself were fully clothed, she squinted but didn’t ask.

“Careful,” you warned, “That’s how we got pulled into the pool.”

It was when she raised an eyebrow at you that you realized what a compromising position you were in. You quickly unwrapped your legs from Taehyung’s torso and stood on your ruined shoes. You tried to get away but Taehyung followed and wrapped his arms around your waist. His torso to your back and his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t bring yourself to push him away.

“Yeah well, it was great! Yoongi and I took a bachata class and then we got to go explore the city,” she gushed as Yoongi took his own shoes off and sat down next to Julie with a groan.

“Wow hyung you danced,” Hoseok asked, also switching to the pool unceremoniously to better listen.

“Yes. I danced, is that so hard to believe?”

“Well it took six alarms to wake you up this morning and the last time I saw you do any real work outs you napped after five minutes so…”

Yoongi splashed water at his friend, a chuckle escaping his baby lips. Yoongi was unbelievably cute, you thought, and he seemed to be into Julie, or at the very least, the date.

“He was actually really good,” Julie laughed, “I was the one struggling to be honest.”

Yoongi smiled gratefully at her and placed a hand on her thigh. Julie placed her own hand on his and entwined their fingers. Just like that, you watched the first couple in paradise form.

It was midnight before Jungkook and Marie were back at the villa. It was a general consensus that you would all wait for them to return to inquire about their date and also to see if two couples were formed that day. Your hands were pruny, and your body felt heavy from being in the water for so long, but Taehyung refused to let you leave. So your dress floated around you ethereally.

He’d managed to pull you closer to Jin and Holly who seemed less than bothered with your existence. Kitty had given up trying to get his attention for the night and was now chatting up Yeonjun on the other end of the pool. Jin and Taehyung were having pleasant conversation, but when you tried to answer, Jin only looked at you, then changed the subject. At this point, you weren’t sure if he was punishing you for the morning, or for the way that you were being held.

Namjoon hadn’t come around to fix your mic either. You assumed that there was no need since you were still in the water.

When Jungkook and Marie showed up, it was both a sigh of relief and an added tension. He had poured his heart out to you and he was coming back to the sight of you in the arms of another man. Guilt ripped through you. You tried once again to get Taehyung to let you go but he tightened his hold and buried his head in your neck.

“Hey Kook! How was the date,” he called out as they neared the pool. Marie was smiling widely, her A- line dress fluttered in the wind. Jungkook was also smiling. His hand was clasped firmly in Marie’s hand. You didn’t expect it, but his smile and affection felt like a punch to the gut.

He looked over to you guys and his smile flattened when his eyes landed on the way that Taehyung was holding you.

“Uh yeah. Good date. We had dinner,” he explained.

“It was amazing,” Marie confirmed, “We had a table on a glass, water covered floor. There were fish swimming under us as we ate. And the food,” she gasped clutching at her chest as if it physically hurt her, “it was prepared by a five star chef.”

“Sounds like you guys hit it off,” Taehyung encouraged.

“I think so,” Marie giggled, nuzzling her nose against Jungkook’s cheek. He didn’t stop her. He smiled brightly, pulling his eyes from you and shrugging his shoulders in embarrassment.

“Looks like we have two couples set up in paradise then,” Yeonjun said wisely.

“Looks like it,” Taehyung agreed. If you would have looked at him, you would have seen a satisfied smirk on his face.

Taehyung sat in front of the camera comfortably. His face expressionless, waiting for Namjoon to begin the interview. He’d done many of these before and he knew exactly what he needed to say. He’d learned from his first show and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake. He wouldn’t let himself be hurt that way ever again.

It was a couple of minutes before Namjoon held up his clipboard and pushed up his glasses on his nose. There was a weird tension that Taehyung couldn’t put his finger on but he didn’t read into it.

Namjoon cleared his throat.

“Okay Taehyung, I just have a couple of questions and then you can go to sleep. That okay?”

“Sure hyung,” Taehyung answered instantly, smiling sweetly at his elder.

“Okay, roll the camera Chris,” he said. Chris nodded then held up a thumb to signal he was ready.

“Okay. How do you feel about the two couples in Paradise so far?”

“Julie and Yoongi hyung seem like a nice couple. I knew when I saw them leave that they would fit nicely together. As for Jungkook and Marie…” he paused, not sure what he wanted to reveal just yet, “they seem okay, but if Kook didn’t like her before, I don’t see why he would like her now. He eliminated her from his season for a reason.”

Namjoon nodded.

“Honestly though, I hope she keeps him for a while. I like being able to mess around with Y/N.”

Namjoon looked up sharply, his expression gave nothing away but Taehyung felt that tension again. Where was it coming from?

“What about Kitty?”

Taehyung laughed, “She’s fun to mess around with as well.”

“So, you haven’t decided on a girl then.” Namjoon tried to clarify.

“It’s the second day hyung! I have six weeks to figure it out and this time, I’m not going to get hurt. I can promise you that.”

Namjoon wrote something on his clipboard then, without looking up, he asked the last question.

“You think that both women like you?” His voice was strained but Taehyung chalked it up to having worked all day. Namjoon seemed tired. He felt a little sorry for him. Late nights and early mornings. Not the best job in the world.

“What’s not to like?” he asked cockily, his mouth pulled into a devilish smirk. He chuckled, then winked at the camera.

Namjoon patted Chris on the shoulder and the camera was off. Taehyung smiled at his hyung and though Namjoon returned it, it felt stressed. Or forced. Again, he chalked it up to his exhaustion. He bowed politely.

“Is that all, Namjoon hyung?”

“Yeah Taehyung. Have a nice rest.” Namjoon didn’t look at him. He walked over to a Styrofoam cooler and placed the paper he had been writing on, on top, then taped it so it would stay. He found it weird but he didn’t question. Taehyung bowed once again, the tension thickening before he walked out of the recording room and towards his bed room.

Things were going to be different this time. Taehyung would make sure of it. Even if he had to be the one doing the hurting.

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cynicalrainbows · 4 years

Text

Poetry & Prose

In which Cathy suffers with Guilt and Jane discovers poetry.

The poems mentioned in this fic are (in order of mention Her Kind by Anne Sexton, an extract from Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur, On A Train by Wendy Cope, The Dormouse and The Doctor by A A Milne and The Past by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.) Wendy Cope is absolutely recommended if you’re not a fan of poetry in general- her poems are very simple, and all the more effective for that simplicity. The dormouse poem I recommend if you wish to have your heart torn into shreds- yes, it’s technically a children’s poem but even thinking about the absolutely tragic plight of the sad dormouse still makes me tear up to this day. Literally no other piece of poetry has ever affected me so deeply so I’ve just projected that onto Cathy.

In regards to the brief mention of Thomas and Elizabeth….I do sometimes think the case gets examined in a slightly….I don’t want to say unfair way but a way that applies modern understandings of things and modern expectations to a time that was wildly different. Specifically, during a time when it was entirely legal to beat your wife and divorce for women was not an option, what else would you do in a similar situation, other than sending the victim away?

Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy this fic!

‘I have gone out, a poss- poss-’

‘Possessed.’

‘Possessed witch, h- haunting the black air, braver at night, dreaming evil, I have done my hitch-’

She pauses.

‘What does it mean?’

‘Hm?

‘What does done my hitch mean?’

She thinks of horses- All hitched up; I’ll just hitch up the cart, words she’d only overheard in her first life since the tending of horses with none of her concern back then, and words she’d heard not at all in her second, since no one seemed to ride much nowadays. And getting hitched, hitched up- Anne had told her that it meant ‘marriage’ nowadays.

Neither meaning seems to fit here though.

Cathy takes the book and scans the line herself, her brow creasing, which makes her feel vindicated. Cathy is never, ever patronising on purpose, and she can tell that she takes especial care never to reply to a question as if the answer is obvious (even when it is) but even so, it pleases her when Cathy has to actually consider her answer before she gives it.

‘Mmmm… A spell, I think. Or a period of time.’

She sounds disinterested, lacklustre, even though this is usually the sort of question Cathy enjoys: usually, they’d debate it back and forth until they’d come up with an answer between them.

Now though, Cathy answers like she just wants to get on.

‘I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light-’

She’s reading slowly to make sure she doesn’t stumble but it’s alright- it’s one of the reasons that she enjoys reading poetry, because it’s one of the rare, precious times when reading quickly doesn’t matter. In fact speed (as Cathy has told her over and over) is actually a bad thing, especially if you’re reading a poem that’s unfamiliar.

‘It just means that you have to read it again because you’ve missed the meaning. Much better to read slowly so you can absorb it.’

And they do absorb it- it’s become their thing. Cathy’s the only queen with an unending appetite for poetry; she’s the only queen who reads slowly as a matter of course (she likes to focus on that rather than on the fact that she’s the only queen who needs to practise reading aloud) and so in this, they’re well matched.

Reading the poetry slowly doesn’t make her feel humiliated in the way that reading prose slowly does, and being able to argue over the meaning of whatever they’re reading- over the word choice and the subject and the feel of it- after she’s finished is her reward. It stops her feeling like a child because although Cathy is undoubtedly the better reader, they’re equals when it comes to interpretation, and that’s another reason she enjoys it.

Not that she’d taken Cathy seriously when she’d first suggested it.

(‘Practise makes all the difference, you know.’

She was sitting in the windowseat of the bedroom she shared with Catalina, back in the first house, hot-eyed and burning with embarrassment and steadfastly trying to ignore Cathy’s presence next to her.

‘It needn’t even be for long.’

She’d had to fight to keep her voice even.

‘There’s no point. I’m no good at it, I’m no good at any of it.’

‘True.’ Cathy’s bluntness sometimes makes her laugh- then it had made her want to cry. ‘But you don’t have to be. You can get better at it, but only if you actually work at it.’

‘I am working at it.’

‘I know- and it’s good you’re going to classes, I’m glad Anna suggested them but….you need to practise at home too.’

‘I do.’

‘With someone else it’ll be more effective. I can help with the hard bits.’

‘Cathy. I know you mean well. But I don’t want you to feel like you need to- to teach me like I’m a child.’

Cathy had shrugged. ‘That’s ok, I understand. Would it help if we didn’t think of it as teaching though? Because honestly I don’t want to think of it as teaching either. Too much pressure and I’d worry I wasn’t doing it right and-’

‘What would you call it then?’

‘How about….two friends who just happen to get together sometimes to read together?’

Jane had shaken her head. ‘You wouldn’t enjoy the sort of books I’m reading.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of books.’ Cathy held up the slim volume in her hand. ‘I was thinking of this. Poetry is MEANT to be read aloud but it’s too weird just doing it on my own.’

‘I’m not really into poetry.’

‘Why not?’

The idea had stumped her a bit, she’d never had to defend herself like this before. ‘I’m just not. I can’t understand it.’

‘No one’s meant to understand it, not the first time anyway. That’s part of the fun of it.’

‘And I read too slowly anyway, you’d be just as bored.’

‘Poetry is meant to be read slowly.’

‘Mmm. Yes. Sure.’

‘No, really! Listen-’

Cathy flipped the book open. ‘I’m looking for something short….ok, this’ll do-’ She’d sat up a little straighter and began to read quickly, flatly, as if she was reading from the newspaper, an account of something: ‘You tell me to lie down, cause my opinions make me less beautiful-’

The first line interested her but she had been distracted too because even she could tell that there’s something wrong about how Cathy was doing it- she’d felt rushed.

‘Do it again.’

‘Why?’

‘You were too quick-’

‘No.’

‘Oh.’ She’d felt deflated- had Cathy just been trying to prove her point because now she’d felt tricked and cheated- but then Cathy had put the book into her own hands, open on the page.

‘You read it.’

She’d tried to push it away.

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Don’t you want to hear it again?’

‘Yes-’ And she did. Something about it had struck her in a deep inside place: My opinions make me less beautiful. A memory teased her until she grabbed at it: Henry’s cold, closed up face when she’d screwed up her courage and begged for mercy for Robert Aske and the Pilgrimage of Grace. She’d been less beautiful to him that day, she was sure.

‘So read it. I’ll help if you get stuck on a word. And there’s only us here, no one else is listening.’

Still, she hesitated.

‘It’ll sound better when you read it, I promise you. Just give it a try. Please.’

It’s the please that did it, because she’s never able to say no to people when they use it. Even when she should. (Henry had said please when he’d asked for her hand- the first and last time he’d ever used it with her. She should have said no.)

‘Ok.’

‘You tell me to quiet down-’

It turned out actually to not be too hard to read, she’d only hesitated briefly over ‘tongue’. And oddly enough, she’d found that Cathy was right. It did sound better, somehow- perhaps because she was reading so slowly that she had time to take in each word, like bricks being added to a wall, one by one, each making the whole a little more complete.

‘-difficult to forget but not easy for the mind to follow.’

She’d closed the book on the last word and seen Cathy beaming at her. ‘You see? You see?’

Reluctantly, she’d nodded- but she hadn’t been able help a smile twitching the corners of her own lips too. ‘I see.’)

She hadn’t taken Cathy seriously when Cathy had told her that maybe she could like poetry, because she’d believed she couldn’t- she associated with confusion, with trouble. (They had said that Anne had had poems dedicated to her at Court, so many that it had caused a stir and then more than a stir. She hadn’t been able to trust poetry after she’d heard that.)

The poems Cathy has her read aren’t like that though- they have easy, simple words and some of them aren’t about anything much but they manage to make her feel things in a way that she’d never imagined printed words would be able to do.

There’s one that Cathy shows her, about riding in a train, that makes her want to cry for the soft simplicity of it, of how it reminds her of the peaceful feeling of watching the scenery as Kitty sleeping against her shoulder when they have to travel for an interview. It surprises her- she didn’t think that poetry could be that easy.

But now Cathy doesn’t look as if she finds it easy. She just looks tired.

‘-my ribs crack where your wheels wind-’ She reads on. It occurs to her that on a normal day, she’d be more focused on the words, about how they remind her of how she’d writhed and strained so hard giving birth that it had felt as if her own ribs were splintering in her chest- but now she’s more preoccupied with Cathy’s wan, drawn face.

‘A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind.’

It’s only as she finishes that she realises Cathy’s eyes are glistening with tears- and although it’s not as if she’s never seen Cathy cry over a poem before, this doesn’t feel like last time.

(She’d thought Cathy had been joking.

‘How can this be the saddest poem in the world?’

Cathy had blinked at her, brushing at her eyes. ‘Because it IS. Doesn’t it make YOU feeling like crying?’

‘Not...really.’ She had wondered if there was some hidden meaning to it that had affected Cathy so, but she wasn’t sure how there COULD be. ‘It’s a children’s poem.’

‘That doesn’t mean it isn’t TRAGIC!’ Cathy looked genuinely sad. ‘Jane, the dormouse has to live FOREVER in the wrong sort of flowerbed, just because the doctor wouldn’t listen to what he actually wanted!’

Jane had shrugged. ‘Yes but- Cathy, love, it’s a children’s poem. It’s not meant to make you get this upset.’

‘Ugh, you sound just like Catalina.’ Cathy had picked up her copy of When We Were Very Young and left the room in a huff.)

This isn’t the same though- because rather than trying to explain herself, Cathy just looks wearily resigned.

‘Are you alright love?’

‘Fine.’ Cathy blinks a couple of times but the tears spill over, rather than disappearing like she’d obviously hoped they would.

‘No you’re not.’

Cathy sniffs and doesn’t respond; Jane edges closer and wraps an arm around her shoulders, hoping that she won’t pull away.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘It’s nothing, it’s silly.’

‘More silly than crying because a dormouse had to sleep in a bed of daffodils?’

Despite the tears still sliding down her cheeks, Cathy gives a short laugh. ‘They were chrysanthemums, actually. And yes.’

‘Well then’ She tightens her hold and Cathy rests her head against her shoulder. ‘Now you really do need to tell me love, because I’m fascinated.’

‘That's the thing. It really is nothing. I just feel really-’ Cathy searches for the word.’ You know like the opposite of rose tinted glasses?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like that. Just- tired and flat and pointless. And I don’t know why. The poem was just the last straw- it reminded me of, of how much I ruined by dying when I did….how many things could have been fixed if I hadn’t-’ Cathy’s face crumples and Jane feels it like an ache. ‘I’m sorry, I said it was stupid.’

‘Cathy love, no, no, no. Oh you poor thing-’ Cathy leans into her, sniffing and Jane rocks her gently back and forth. ‘It isn’t stupid in the slightest but that doesn’t mean it’s true-’ She isn’t quite sure where she should start. ‘You can’t blame yourself for dying, that isn’t fair.’

‘But if I hadn’t-’

‘But you couldn’t help it- and goodness, even if you had-’ Jane pulls back enough to cup Cathy’s damp cheek. ‘If you had been able to control it...I hate to say it, but there’s so, so many other things that could have gone wrong, even if you had been alive to see them.’

Cathy shakes her head. ‘I left Mary all alone- you know, some historians think she could even have died of neglect because they can’t be sure she ended up somewhere safe? And Jane- she had to go back to that awful house, those terrible people, because she couldn’t be part of my household without a proper chaperone, she might not have died if I’d been there to oversee things….I never had a chance to explain to Elizabeth, I always meant for her to know that I only sent her away to keep her safe and I meant to be explain one day when we were together but I never saw her again, there wasn’t TIME….and Edward and Mary might have reconciled, perhaps they wouldn’t have been so opposed, I made them all a family when I was alive and then when I was gone, it just fell apart….’ Cathy breaks off, sobbing too hard to speak and Jane shakes her head.

‘Oh Cathy. Oh love. It’s alright, let it out.’ She waits until the tears have slowed a bit before passing over a handful of tissues.

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. Now. Can I say what I think?’

Cathy nods, dabbing her swollen eyes.

‘Cathy. You are a wonderful, intelligent, kind, caring young woman and we are all love you and count ourselves very, very lucky to know you and have you with us, ok?’

Another tentative nod.

‘But love, you are not God. You’re not magic. You cannot possibly think that you would be able to have solved all of those problems, all of those issues, if you’d been alive. Honestly, even if you had a hundred years to try, I don’t think you’d have managed.’

Cathy looks wrong-footed. ‘But all of it- when I was alive, things were alright, they weren’t-’

‘Were they? Were they really alright? Or was it just that the problems didn’t exist yet?’

‘Well-’

‘Love, you did a wonderful job bringing the family together. But that’s so much easier when the children are- well, children. Do you see how much harder it would have been when they were adults? Edward was….seven, when you met him?’

‘Six.’ Cathy blows her nose.

‘See? He was a child. And Mary was a young woman but- well, with her father alive, even with a definite King in place….well, it would have been madness for her to double down with her beliefs the way she did. It was different when you were gone.’

‘Yes. When I was gone-’

‘No.’ She shakes her head decisively. ‘When you were gone, I said. Not because you were gone.’

Cathy contemplates for a moment and Jane pulls her closer, so that Cathy can lean against her comfortably. ‘Think love, for a minute. Did everything go to plan when you were alive? Did everything go just how you tried to make it turn out?’

Reluctantly Cathy shakes her head. ‘No. Hardly ever.’

‘So.’ Jane presses a kiss to the top of her head. ‘What makes you think it would have been any different if you’d lived longer?’ She pauses. ‘You need to let go of the blame. You need to stop torturing yourself with thinking how things could have been different- trust me, it’ll be easier when you do.’

She can see by Cathy’s expression that she understands what she means.

‘You make it sound so easy.’

‘Oh it won’t be. It isn’t. It’s always hard.’ She can say it lightly but honestly, it’s something that she doesn’t even think she’ll stop struggling with. ‘But you’ve taken the first couple of steps today….so that’s a start at least.’

‘I suppose.’ She’d be more bothered by the non-committal response if it wasn’t for the fact that she can tell by Cathy’s expression that she is actually thinking about it- only passingly now, perhaps, but later, when her tears have dried, tomorrow or the day after, she will think on it again, think about it seriously and examine the idea, and turn it over and over in her mind until she’s made peace with it.

She knows how Cathy does things after all, which is why she doesn’t push it too hard. She might not be able to read well but she knows about people.

Nestled up against her, Cathy looks even wearier and more wrung out than before but it doesn’t worry her so much as it did when she first noticed it. She smooths Cathy’s hair away from her damp face and smiles when she hums in response.

They sit in silence for a minute or two, and Jane imagines dust settling around them after a storm, normalcy returning slowly. She isn’t planning on going back to the poetry- she imaginges Cathy has probably had enough of it for one day, and then she remembers something and jerks up, dislodging Cathy from her arms and making her squeak in surprise.

‘Jane?’

‘Sorry, sorry- I just- I remembered something, something I meant to show you and I thought...it might help. You, I mean.’

Cathy looks slightly skeptical, and then she shrugs. ‘Ok. What is it?’

‘I’ll fetch it. Get comfortable while I look though because it might take a minute.’

She waits until Cathy has re-arranged the pillows and lain down properly on the the bedspread, half smiling despite herself.

‘I’m curious now-’

‘I knew you would be. Just- Oh!’ She unearths the book from under her bed, where she remembers putting it for ‘safe-keeping’ and climbs back onto the bed with it.

And begins to read.

‘I fling the past behind me, like a robe, worn threadbare at the seams, and out of date…’

Cathy curls back up into her side again and she smiles. ‘I have outgrown it. Where- where-’

‘Wherefore.’ Cathy’s voice is quiet; she goes on.

‘Wherefore should I weep and dwell upon its beauty-’

As she reads, she feels the tension leaving the girl next to her as she sinks into the cadence of the words.

‘-starred with gems made out of ch-ch-’

‘Chrystalled-’ Cathy’s voice is nearly a whisper now, but she can still hear it.

‘Chrystalled tears. My new robe shall be richer than the old.’ She finishes, flushed with the glow of hearing how much more confident her voice is than when they’d begun these sessions, all those months ago.

‘That’s you, Cathy. And all of us.’ She leans closer to the curly hair- Cathy’s face is buried in Jane’s cardigan but she knows she is still listening. ‘All of us, stronger than we were. You can put the past down, you don’t have to carry it with you, if it’s hurting.’

Cathy gives a tremulous nod, her face still buried and Jane kisses the top of her head..

She isn’t concerned, they can talk about it more later.

For now, she’s happy to wait until then.

#six #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #sixfic #six fanfiction

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