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libraford · 3 years

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I owe you all a story about kittens. But its about... a little more than kittens. It's a long one.

I want to tell you all about the kittens, which took place in 2019. But in order to do so, I have to take you back even further, to March of 2018, and concludes in 2021. Because it's about kittens, but it's also about business and all the things that can go wrong.

In March 2018, tragedy struck. The owner of the flower shop died unexpectedly, leaving the business to four capable managers. One of those managers was the man that had hired me, leaving a power vacuum at our location. Grandpa was not the first choice to take the lead, but she stepped up and she became manager. In my opinion, there was no better person for the role: she had only ever worked in the flower industry (assuming we're not counting the one week in 1976 when she worked at a pizza parlor,) and as such she knew the business inside and out.

Prior to this, she had taught all of the designers and practically ran the place when the boss was out, so it was the next logical step. And it was good.

Of course, we had our ups and downs. What I did not realize when I joined the flower shop is that the flower industry is volatile- there are so many variables that went into the creation of floral pieces and if there is one misstep you can be set back anywhere from a day to several thousand dollars. There are late deliveries, there are frightening brides, there are missing piñatas… van fires, flower snobs, color corrections, failed psychics, friends, enemies…

You can set the bar so very low and yet…

The rise and fall of drama at this particular flower shop could be dictated into hours and minutes because sometimes you need to hire people just to fill that space. Grandpa was on record by saying 'if they can walk, talk, and spell their name, hire them.' Even so, we were critically understaffed most of the time because if you hire anyone you're going to get a lot of quitters.

It's a tough cycle to break, and our power was limited.

And we had bigger fish to fry: we had an average of thirty funerals, two weddings, and well over six hundred deliveries per week. Business was booming and we just had to keep up- if you make it one week after the next it doesn't feel so bad.

By March of the following year, the four owners had whittled down to two: my former boss and the former webmaster. We had a district manager now, some kind of accounts position… things like that. It was kind of astonishing that before this, all the work had been done by a single man. But the secrets to his success had died with him.

Things were looking good, actually: the flower business was full of life! We were doing all kinds of special events, starting contracts with businesses and getting our name out there. Drama still plagued us, but as far as I'm aware, that's par for the course for flower shops.

Then, in May 2019, tragedy struck. A tornado ripped straight down the street of our headquarters, demolishing the greenhouse and the historical building that it all started in. No one was injured, but the damages were devastating. Despite all this, we kept working.

We worked hard. And hard. And hard.

And though the new warehouse wasn't slated to be finished until 2021, we reached an equilibrium where things were okay.

But before I get to that, I made a promise to you.

It was a hot day in August and I was walking into my closing shift at 10am. After two years of working with roughly the same people, you got to learning how to tell when something was happening. I walked in to everyone staring at me and acting 'natural.' It never looks natural.

In the back of the store, there was a box that Cherry was standing very purposely in front of.

"What's in the-"

"Sh!" Grandpa spied through the window in the cooler door as someone swung out with a purchase. "Did you find something you like," she asked the customer, trotting over to help him at the register.

"What's happening," I asked Blue.

"Nothings happening, it just kind of… happened."

"Blue… what does that MEAN?"

"There's a customer here, I can't talk about it."

I am bursting at the seams to know what's going on.

Grandpa fared the customer well and went back to her station behind the computer. "Open the box," she said.

Ominous, but okay. I go over to the box and Cherry steps aside. There's something moving inside the box and I wonder if Pam's daughter had folded herself into a box to ride out a panic attack again. I carefully opened the flaps of the box and accidentally disturbed the sleep of-

Four.

Tiny.

KITTENS!

Oh my god, it was the most adorable thing in the world and the poor things were screaming because they had only known the world for a few weeks and everything was strange and blurry and all they knew to do was cuddle for warmth and scream. The box consisted of two black kittens, one tuxedo kitten, and a white seal-point with terminal eye goop.

They immediately started climbing up my arm.

"Not that I'm not thrilled, but… why?"

"Stray cat left her babies out by my pond and wasn't just gonna leave the little fuckers," Grandpa said. The seal-point made it all the way up my shoulder to scream in my ear and stare at me with one clear blue eye. "That one's name is Pop-eye. He's my favorite."

"Jake doesn't get along with them," I surmised. Jake was Grandpa's Australian Shepherd. He was old, blind, deaf, and losing his sense of smell. And he was ornery.

"First thing he did was sit on Pop-eye. So they're gonna be at the shop during the day until we can get them all homed. Know anyone that needs a kitten?"

So, for awhile, we had shop cats. One of the all black twins had been claimed the very next day, but the rest of them were with us for some time. We got very good at feeding them all every hour on the hour and eventually they settled into accepting that 'mom' was seven different people.

In the meantime, we had to hide the three of them from visiting management.

This was not my first round with cat-related crimes.

The district manager, Puppet, was due to come for a visit any time that week. He was supposed to come once a month for a routine check in, and there were only ten days left in August. Likewise, we had to hide the kittens from the customers on the off chance that one of them was a secret shopper.

Backtracking once more to explain: the company had shelled out money to pay a third party to send secret shoppers to grade us on a rubric and also whatever they thought was appropriate. The grades were cleanliness, customer service, how knowledgeable we were of products, things like that. If we got above 90%, there would be a bonus in our next paycheck.

Sounds great, right?

The spies could decide that anything wasn't up to their standard. One woman went on and on about our 'black wall,' which was the outside of our cooler and I'm sorry but… that's not changing. There was a complaint that the table at the front used to showcase our bridal seemed out of place and odd. There dirt in the flower pots… where dirt goes. Corporate reads those comments.

So keeping the children out of sight of the customers and any visiting management became our priority.

'So just keep them in the break room,' I hear you, the reader, suggest.

If you've never owned cats, it is imperative for you to know that they are mostly comprised of spine, and only the smallest of openings will deter them from squeezing into parts unknown. Cats are semi-solids. Kittens are semi-solids with a sense of adventure and little tiny needles for fingernails.

And you can't just tape the box shut.

So… they got out. Well, two of them got out. The tuxedo awoke to find that her brothers had gone exploring without her and did the sensible thing, which was cry about it.

Mood.

I have named this cat Brood X Cicada. The black one can be named Abyss. I'm great at naming cats.

Lucky for us, they're only a few weeks old and walk kind of like little tin soldiers. It took all of five minutes to pry Pop-eye from a piece of Styrofoam and locate Abyss exploring an old toolbox. However, by the time I'm done cat collecting, Brood X Cicada had toddled off in search of her brothers and I'm out of hands to hold kittens in. I stuffed Abyss into my apron pocket and tried to save X from eating plastic.

It is at this moment that Cherry came in to tell me that Puppet the District Manager was on his way, and saw that I was helplessly juggling kittens. Abyss was climbing out of my pocket, eager to join his siblings in the high and exalted position that was my hands.

"We need these kittens out of here," I said. "Who hasn't been on lunch yet?"

Cherry dodged her head back into the workshop. "Hey Key, you been on lunch?" Pause. "You wanna go now?"

Key came into the back room and I handed her the box of kittens. "Take these, in your car. Go to burger King or something, I don't care. Puppet cannot see these. If anyone asks, you're on a route."

Key held the box and took a moment to appreciate the series of events that lead to her being handed a box of kittens in a 'Take this, don't ask questions' kind of matter.

Puppet was in the front door as Key was out the back and we successfully avoided a serious mistake. His visit was only an hour and she walked back in without anyone the wiser.

We made it through the big challenge, now to continue looking for homes for them. Ms. Crow found a friend of a friend of a friend that was excited to take Abyss from us. After some interrogating my friends, I found someone who knew someone who could take Pop-eye and Brood X Cicada. (They were renamed Hocus and Pocus.)

Grandpa cried for every single one of them that had to go. And I remembered my very first day of working there when she introduced herself as 'The Tinman.' What a liar, the softy.

Our days went on kitten-free, the management none the wiser.

It was December when I got the feeling that I should be taking photos of my work to build a portfolio. Something wasn't right, I felt. I couldn't say what it was that put me on edge, but I could only say that all was not well. I took photos of everything that I was proud of, and I was proud of a lot of things. By February, I had over fifty items that I could show off to a potential studio. And I thought- in March, I should start looking to see if other shops are hiring.

And in March 2020, tragedy struck. Our state went into lockdown on March 13, dictating that all non-essential businesses close and non-essential staff be laid off. There were two days where none of us knew what was happening, if we had jobs or if that job was safe.

They laid off all but three designers and Grandpa but kept most the drivers, changed our hours to 8-5, closed Sundays. Canceled weddings. No walk-ins. The three designers were Blue, Red, and me.

Blue was worried about her children. She resigned.

Red's wife was worried about him and harassed him into quitting.

And then there was one.

There's a series of poems I wrote in my journal about being an essential worker during lockdown. There's adorable little doodles of skeletons around the margins, festooned with flowers. They all go something like this:

We are the Skeleton Crew.

We once were seven but now are two

We don't know what to do

So we just work, work, work.

Many may wonder how a flower shop would be considered an essential business. The answer is funerals. We were allowed to remain open because of our relationship with the funeral industry. And sad to say: the industry was booming.

And I did all of it. I made every spray, every 'get well soon' vase, every 'happy quarantine' bouquet. I called angry brides to see if they could postpone, I dealt with everyone's grief and uncertainty.

All the flowers that arrived at US Customs through Italy were destroyed because we didn't know whether coronavirus was transmitted through physical contact and there's no way to sanitize flowers. Not without killing them.

It was me and Grandpa. That was it. Ten funerals a day, and everything else. Flowers were more important than ever: you couldn't be there, so you sent flowers. And flowers and flowers and flowers…

I couldn't leave now. I was important, I was needed.

The work became overwhelming for both of us and we began hiring back some of our staff. Some came back right away, bored out of their skulls having to spend time at home. Can't relate. Key never responded, Cherry was pregnant and shouldn't be out of the house.

Dandy came back, Kali came back, Astra came back. Eventually, Blue. After a month of just me and Grandpa, there was almost a full crew and it was enough for us to get through an average week. It took us a month on our bare knuckles but we finally weren't shouldering the responsibility of seven people.

But we still didn't know jack shit about the future there.

In May, the 'economy opened up,' which is a strategic way of saying that people got tired of never leaving the house and stores were pressured to open back up again before a vaccine was released under threat of… you know what? This isn't a story about how America responded to the coronavirus poorly and you can probably find a better thinkpiece about it written by someone with facts and feelings if you want to squeeze yourself behind a pay wall.

This is about workers rights and kittens, two things that are far more important than the economy.

We got 'Hero Pay,' which was two dollars extra per hour and damn did I grasp onto that with the tendons in my wrists. I had never been paid $12 an hour for anything in my life. They started talking about permanent raises, and benefits, 401K, pregnancy leave… and I started thinking… maybe I could stay. Maybe I can stay here for awhile and it won't be so bad now that I'm getting paid actual human wages. Maybe it will be okay.

Life returned to an uneasy normal while we navigated mask laws, sanitation regulations, safety screens, and daily temperature checks. There are stories to tell about some less than great customers we'd had as people realized that they weren't coping with the pandemic as well as they thought, but they deserve their own entries.

We had a revolving door of open positions. If it wasn't a designer it was a driver or both. People weren't ready to come back to work yet but we still had a business to run. People asked if they could perform this job remotely. I'm not sure how one does flowers from home.

It was August when we started feeling the roots of our problems seep into the foundation.

Grandpa's pride and joy was her funerals. She had spent thirteen years building a relationship with the funeral homes in the area to make sure they trust us and our work. If anything was wrong, even a hair out of place, they knew they could call us and have it fixed before the visitation.

"We want unity across the board on our products," Puppet said. "If you're doing the sprays one way and others don't look the same, it doesn't look very good for Oldman Funeral Home, which has locations in all our cities, does it?" He swept his bangs out of his eyes, which was strange tell but we weren't sure for what.

"Okay," Grandpa said. "Schedule a time for me to go down and I'll teach them the way we do them."

"Okay, then."

She went down, prepared to show the crew in the warehouse what 40 years in the business was capable of, only to be met with a strange kind of resistance.

Their head designer greeted her and immediately started instructing her on how he makes sprays. Grandpa, confused, blinked at him with no words. When he was finished, she picked up her clippers and began making her own.

"That's not how we do it," he said. She was met with criticism after criticism. "That's not enough flowers, you're putting them in wrong, you're still making it one-sided. Why did you put the bow there, this looks nothing like our products."

She stood back after his barrage of blows to the ego. "I guess I'm a little confused."

"I'll say."

"Am I teaching you or are you teaching me?"

"I'm teaching you," he said. "Since they're going to all be made here from now on, they want me to show you how we make them in case of emergency."

She let that simmer. "That's not what I was told."

"You didn't think you were supposed to show me how you do it, did you? That doesn't make any sense. Why would we want to look like yours?"

"Oh, I dunno… maybe because we've kept up 30 accounts for 13 years and your location just lost your very last one because you can't make their delivery times and they're across the damn street."

This was how we learned that corporate was planning on taking our funerals from us.

Funerals were something I was immensely proud of. My ability to turn out a thousand dollar funeral order with limited stock was a subject of envy. I could take a phone order, make the flowers, and the deliver it all by myself within an hour. I was good. We were all good. And we trained anyone that stayed longer than two months how to do this because we wanted every person to be able to fix any problem.

And they wanted to take that away from us.

And they did. Because who was going to stop them?

'But what does that matter to you,' I hear you, the reader, ask. 'Surely this meant less work for you!'

Ah, but for the sprays to get to us, they had to come on a truck. Making them in-house meant that we knew we had them. We had to put our trust in corporate to deliver the goods to us by 7 am or we would have to make them day of.

There were days when the truck didn't come, or where only half the pieces were delivered, or a spray got left in the workshop an hour away. At least once a week, often more.

But you know… we adapted. You just schedule more openers to make sure no one is doing it alone and hope to God that you have all the flowers you need to make it. Which you could never anticipate how many flowers you would actually need because them taking our funerals was supposed to reduce the amount of stock flowers we got as well.

Mornings were nightmares, but we adapted.

Another visit, Puppet told Grandpa that she should get all weekends off. All the other managers do. He suggested that I learn to run routes so she can have weekends, and I said okay. I'll learn it.

I got real acquainted with the map of Ohio, and I hated it. I was a weekend manager with no real managerial power. If someone needed a refund, I had to write a note for Grandpa to email the accounts manager because she wouldn't take requests from anyone that wasn't a manager. Everything just waited until Monday. What was the point of me? I couldn't design while managing and I couldn't fix what was broken, so why even have a weekend manager? Let the animals loose in the zoo and it probably would have been a better fit.

But I powered through. I adapted.

Throughout all this, spreadsheets. Spreadsheets, spreadsheets, spreadsheets. Completely pointless spreadsheets that we were bound to fill out all day every day. They had simple purposes: inventory. You filled one out to take count of the specials so you knew how many there were. Then you had to count again to put them in the system so that they knew how much we had. Then you had to go back and count them again and put that number in the computer so they knew how much to make and send tomorrow.

I spent an hour each day counting and recounting the flowers in the far-off and futile hope that the counts would remain accurate to the end of the day (which they did not because the call center consistently used the wrong codes) and that the stock would be replenished properly in the morning (it was not.)

An hour was lost each day to this and it accomplished nothing, yet they always yelled at Grandpa if the counts were off or it was late. Why stress a system that does jack shit?

And every time there was a new feature or there was a new… thing, oh look! Another goddamned redundant spreadsheet that served no purpose.

But we adapted. We created a rhythm.

Show up early at 6:30 to make sure everything got in, make everything that didn't, get the drivers routed, pull routes for the third party deliveries, process same-day orders, data entry for the funeral consolidated. Then at 7, when the phones start ringing…

Okay, so before I forget:

Instead of installing a new phone line and hiring a few more call center people like a normal company would, our headquarters decided it would save us money if call overflow rerouted to the next available phone line, regardless of which location the phone was at. So we would get calls for the Kentucky store asking questions about what that store has and for the sake of preserving confidence in our brand we were supposed to pretend that we were the Kentucky store. We're just supposed to know or assume to know what each store had in stock because there's no way that could ever backfire.

It was… another thing to yell at us for. And boy did they, because they were listening in on our calls. Not to like… coach us on how to do better, but to tell us we were wrong. Sometimes they would call one of us on the other line to tell someone currently on the main one that they said something wrong. They also would straight up lie and scold us for calls we didn't take. The phones system, was simply a mess.

...so when the phones started up at 7am, and one person is designing, one person is taking unending phone orders, Grandpa is doing damage control. By 8, we have most of last nights orders figured out and it's time to start on same day orders and tomorrow's orders. It's too early to do inventory now because they'll yell at us for doing it too early.

By 9 we have our second wave of same day orders and next day orders, the rest of the world realizes we're open and starts walking in. That requires the attention of an entire person. We're at this point also taking out trash, breaking down boxes, disinfecting, sweeping the cooler.

Typically, there were only two openers on any given day, which meant most of this was all being handled by Blue or me.

By 10 we've caught up, we can do the inventory now without getting yelled at by the four heads at corporate. We're on route #3 by now and someone probably had to go to the same place twice because the orders came in late.

At 11, a crisis has probably happened. Something dropped, something wilted, something wasn't what they imagined. Someone has to go fix it, and that someone was usually me because I knew my way around town better than the other transplants.

This typically returned me to the shop around 1pm, which meant it was time for lunch, bringing me to 2. 3 o'clock was the cutoff for any next day orders to be sent to corporate, which meant that if there were any funeral orders taken for the morning, they would have to be made in-house. This included sprays, which takes half an hour to an hour depending on how complicated it was and if we had the materials and how much else we needed to make for the next day. Or how busy we were.

There was always something called in at the last minute, taking us to 4 and then 5 o'clock, when the openers went home and the same-day orders were cut off.

But see, that was when we stopped taking orders, not when we stopped processing orders. So if an order was placed for the same day at 4:59, it may not go through until 5:30. And by 5:30, chances are you've sent your drivers home for the day. Which means calling the customer to apologize and explain why something can't be sent out today, and no one wants to hear that they fucked up by sending it out late.

So, on more than one occasion, I had to personally deliver flowers on my way home from work in my personal car, thirty minutes out of my way because if we miss a delivery by God will we hear about it. And it was always some damn $25 arrangement with 'God Loves You' written on the tag, hardly worth the gas to Johnstown.

The irony of it being delivered by the witch was lost on no one.

If that didn't happen and the screen was clear, the night was easy and all we had to do was clean up and watch the door.

Unless a last minute order for the next day came in, which was about half the time. All of this for $11 an hour. (Once they got rid of the Hero Pay, it went back down to $11.)

That was an average, unexciting day for us. You got used to those kinds of stresses, but every day I came home and I was so tired and sore that I couldn't move. I started walking with a cane, had a low-grade fever most days, and my hands looked like I'd taken to them with a cheese grater.

But I powered through. I adapted.

Then it was December. The owners had always been generous with Christmas bonuses, handing everyone an envelope of cash. Mine was $500. This was the largest amount of cash that anyone had ever handed me (feel bad for me later.)

And then it was Grandpa's turn, but there were no envelopes left. It had to be a mistake, she thought. She didn't get paid very much for all the work she put into the shop, so she was counting on that bonus to buy presents for her grandchildren. It… it… had to be a mistake, right?

"I didn't get a bonus," she said. "I thought the accountability didn't take effect until January," she said to Puppet.

Before he opens his mouth again, I have to explain yet another thing.

In September, there was a meeting. Now that we were working on benefits and bonus programs and other things to make sure the staff stays, they needed to put in accountability measures for the managers. Effective January 1, managers are reflected by the income of their store, the number of returns, accidents in company vehicles, and high turnover rates.

Pick one of those attributes and decide its bullshit to begin with, and I'm about to show you the entire steer.

"We had to make an example of someone," he said. "So that the other managers know we're serious."

She was being personally punished for a car wreck that happened in 2019 even though she fired the guy that was in it. We had too many returns, he said, but most of them were sent to us from corporate. She was personally held responsible for the high turnover rate during an economic crisis AND a goddamned pandemic… because they needed to make an example out of someone.

And her grandkids didn't get presents this year because of it.

She cried. The last time I saw her cry was when we were saying goodbye to the kittens. It's not the same.

But she got up every day and listened to them scream at her while we counted and counted and recounted the fucking Christmas specials because the numbers weren't right and we couldn't make them right because someone in the call center couldn't figure out the codes and in their eyes it was our fault, too- we had to be stealing the flowers or something.

"It sucks and then its over," she said. It was how she dealt with holidays: "It sucks and then its over."

We were all angry for her. I got asked to go to the headquarters and help them mass produce more fucking specials and I offered the beat them up for her and she told me not to get involved. Head down, do the work, get it done.

One of the call center girls died of a heart attack a few days before I was due to help them mass. We were supposed to go to her funeral, but we all missed it because there was so much work to do.

Wait, let me back up… again. The company gave us all life insurance. The number we were quoted on our life insurance policy was $10,000, which seems like a lot but in the funeral business it's not. Your average funeral will eat up most of that, if not all. It's very expensive to die right now.

At least… we all thought it was $10k. I was certainly told $10k.

Turns out it was $1k, which isn't enough to buy you a box for your remains. The call center crew ended up crowdsourcing the rest- she didn't have much family.

And none of us could go to the funeral because we were working.

I worked two twelve hour shifts in that warehouse making the same goddamn centerpiece over and over again while a Frenchman in a scarf told me I was doing it wrong, while everyone was grieving on a time crunch.

I really should have beaten them up.

But we got through Christmas, for what it was worth. We found Grandpa some sales that she could get gifts from and we all worked together to make sure we were okay through it. I mean, we weren't- it was blind leading the blind. But we tried.

And then it ended. "It sucks and then its over," she'd always say.

And into January we go and we're back into the stupidity of trying to fight with hq about funerals. I'm constantly told that if we needed certain things we should have ordered them.

I… did. I did. I ordered everything we needed every damn day and it still never came because the left hand and the right hand can't even coordinate enough to pull off a high-five. But it can't be their fault. It has to be Grandpa's somehow.

Now during the week of Christmas, Grandpa had to take an extra day off because she got sick. It wasn't Covid, thank goodness. I can imagine it was a stress-related issue, but it's not my business. Due to the holiday, this put her at under 40 hours for the week.

So they paid her hourly.

...which is extremely illegal to do to a salaried employee, especially one that works way more than 40 hours a week with no overtime.

And then they told her that she'd already lost her quarterly bonus because of a fender-bender that happened on my watch, and because she lost 39 employees last quarter.

I write everything down. I keep a journal. I cannot find 39 employees, even going back the entire year… during a pandemic. They have to be making this up. They have to be because there is no way they can hold the dude that was fired for literally sleeping in the men's room against her.

And I was close to just telling them all that… when my grandma died.

I'm not getting into it, really. Because you know… she was 96 years old and… it happens. It's sad, but it happens. But the relevant point to make is that I was given an… inheritance. It wasn't a lot. Grandma wasn't loaded. But it would be enough for me to keep afloat for awhile if I ever needed to.

When I told my girlfriend, she said: 'you could quit your job.'

And I didn't want to think about that because the flower shop needed me. I was important there. I was special. And Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

But I was thinking about it. I thought about it every day.

A week before Valentines Day, Grandpa was inconsolable. She had to leave work because her dog, Jake, wouldn't stop bleeding. She needed to get him to the vet.

Two hours pass and Blue gets a message asking her to come help her move the dog. Grandpa lives alone and she's not very strong.

Blue doesn't like dogs. She was bitten by one the first time she ever made a delivery.

And I am known for exceptional physical strength. So I went.

When I arrived, Grandpa was a mess. I had never seen her cry so much, and it wouldn't stop. And I was trying to be strong, but it's hard. Jake was still alive, but bleeding. He was confused and upset, and blind and deaf. He barked, he growled, and he lunged… but always pulled back when his legs buckled from the pain.

I had her grab a blanket and we rolled him onto it, using that to lift him. He thrashed and growled and snapped at me while we walked him towards the door, but he wasn't getting out of the wrap we had him in.

As we're out the door, I noticed a man at the neighboring house. He raised his hand in greeting, but lowered it in confusion.

"Grandpa, is it alright if I get him to come help while you bring the car around?"

The best she could do was nod.

"Yeah, sorry, to bug you but can I ask for a little help here?" He looks at what we're doing and drops his trash can lid to come help. "Yeah, just take that end there and we're gonna ease him into the car when she comes around."

He nodded, took the ends, and we tucked a very confused Jake into the back seat. I thanked the neighbor, Grandpa sped off, and I went back to work feeling extremely odd about it.

That was the first time that I'd ever met the dog: on his way to be put down.

I know it seems weird to tell that story, but there's a reason. Part of it is symbolic. Part of it has to do with kittens. But we're not there just yet.

So now it's February and it is crunch time for Valentine’s Day. We have no earthly idea what this holiday is going to look like because past experiences have us anticipating a large number of walk ins, but state regulations have put a limit of six customers inside the store at any one time. We were never given any… instructions on how to enforce that rule, so we just kind of vaguely set out roles for who has to be the bouncer at the flower shop.

But before all of that, we had to make 275 two-dozen red rose arrangements in bowls. Based on our sales last year and general growth, we were expecting something close to five hundred deliveries on our busiest day. If I wasn't making them, I was counting them. And I was counting, and I was counting, and I was counting… every hour, just like it was at Christmas. We used up every single red rose in the place and came up short.

To which we were scolded: we must have used the roses they sent us for other orders because there was no way the error could have been on their end! Their inventory was impervious to mistakes. Somewhere between the warehouse and our store, twenty-five packs of roses went missing! And why is it only our store that has these problems? Clearly it must be our fault- a store full of thieves and liars and delinquents.

They ended up sending more just because… you know… they care. I guess.

And every hour, they needed a number of something and I counted, and counted and counted…

I think it was February 8 that I started crying every day. When I slept I was stiff as a board because I made so many mistakes throughout the day that the idea of coming to work the next day just to make more mistakes made me lock up entirely. There was no way to relax. There was no winding down from a hard day of work because my body could not move anymore.

I felt like I was made of splintering wood.

I had a dream around this time that I quit my job. I was so happy. I thought about it almost every hour.

So I stayed out of the way at work, picking up cleaning projects because at least there I could be useful and it was dark enough in the cooler that if I started crying no one had to see it.

That cooler was so clean. I wouldn't recommend eating off of it because I used an entire bottle of bleach to clean the floor.

If we're not counting the constant barrage of demands from corporate to count, count, count; Valentine’s Day was worryingly uneventful. Previous holidays were chaotic: filling the requests of the most desperate and clueless men with deep pockets and expensive tastes. Corralling the temporary drivers and make sure no one gets into any crashes or… uh...tries to sell unregulated merchandise from their trunks. Trying to decide what "Malibu Barbie Pink" meant for that one customer who comes in every six months and orders it but has rejected every color pink on the spectrum that our store has ever offered.

On this one… nothing important happened.

We were… slow.

Grandpa started sending people home early because there weren't many orders. We ran out of projects to do.

Sounds great, right?

...heh…

Corporate would like to know why our store is under projected sales by over 200, as if we have any say in how many people buy from us. Like we personally called all our typical customer base and told them not to come to this store. "Yes, hello Mrs. Penderghast? I'm sorry we can't fill your Valentine's Day order this year because we suck balls and don't want your business. Have a nice weekend. Say hi to the grandkids for me."

I don't… fucking KNOW! I don't work in PR! I'd ask the people in that department if they know what happened but… that's the owners. So who really is the fuckup here? Not me, that's for fucking certain! I cleaned the cooler. That's all I did all weekend was clean the Gods damned cooler because there wasn't enough work to go around so I made work for myself.

And then: "Why are the counts off," asked Mt. Rushmore. See, we called them that because between the owners, Puppet, and the head designer we had four white men looking down at us while we did all the work and built their success on the backs of their forefathers. Well… to me it was anyway. To everyone else it was four dudes that looked down on you.

"Why are the counts off?"

Oh, the COUNTS are off? Well, let me just drop everything I'm doing right now and count them for the third time in the past hour because that takes fucking priority.

"There's 95 specials missing from your inventory. Where are they?"

...okay, 95 is a lot. But it was also kind of hard to know how they were 'missing' when we'd sold all of the 275 that we made. How can they be missing if we sold them.

"We need to know where they are."

We don't know where they are. Because we sold all of them. The math didn't add up.

But they hounded us about it like we'd stolen them and resold them on the street corner. Which, to their defense, had happened once (but Sugar stopped doing that when her corner was taken over by the woman who accused Jay of being a demon.) But 95 is a huge number, and these arrangements were a foot wide and two feet tall. Someone would have noticed if a 100x200 foot square opened up in the cooler.

We literally could not know what the fuck they were talking about.

And the truth was extremely stupid: those 95 pieces were redeliveries. When someone has an issue with their order, like it didn't come or it was left out in the snow and got damaged or… someone put the name of their ex on the card instead of their wife… we send a replacement. But depending on who took the phone call, a person might use the wrong code and put it in for 'redeliver' instead- which counts it as another order.

We weren't missing 95 arrangements. We had 95 redeliveries. They hounded us about inventory for two days over a clerical error.

I decided I'd had it. We were going on a full week of crying every time I had a moment alone. They had made us feel like everything that went wrong was our fault: from low turnout to high turnover, missed deliveries and trashed sprays, lost accounts and new grievances…

But did they ever say a Gods damned thing about how hard we worked? How good we were? About how great a team we were under pressure? We once pulled together an entire wedding in fifteen minutes. My ass carried this store through the pandemic. I have done… so much.

So fucking much.

And yet it's our fault.

I had been reasoning with myself that I would stick around for the aftermath when Grandpa was eventually fired: we'd all felt it was coming. But I got that little bit of cash and all my joints were screaming and every time we got negative feedback a part of me died.

The following Tuesday had seen a massive snowstorm. Things that weren't already closed due to the pandemic were closed due to weather.

But we still had to be there. Because someone had to be there to make all the funeral pieces.

Because there wouldn't be a truck the next day, which meant that all of the funeral pieces that we'd sent to the headquarters needed to be made in-house. Which, once again, could have been avoided if we had kept the funeral orders in-house to begin with.

I waited until everyone had cleared out before I said it.

"Grandpa, I have to quit."

I don't think anyone ever looked so disappointed in me in my life.

"Why?"

"The way they treat people here is terrible and I can't see myself doing another Mother's Day for this company. They're so… mean! And for no damn reason! I have cried every day for the past week because I see the way they treat you and I'm… I'm tired."

I thought she was going to cry, but she nodded. "I can't stop you," she said. "I shouldn't stop you. If it's affecting your mental health like this, I'll miss you but its for the best. You know they'll want a written notice."

"And you know I'll tell them the truth," I said.

"...it's not me, is it?"

"If I worked for just you and those fuckers were out of the picture, I would stay. And you can count on me to tell them that."

"Any flower shop you apply to would be lucky to have you."

So I drafted up a resignation letter telling them exactly how I feel: that the way they run this company was asinine and they treated their employees like garbage. They received it on Thursday. Everyone at the shop knew by then. They were upset…

...but they understood.

Puppet did not understand. He emailed Grandpa asking her what she's doing that her people keep leaving.

He didn't see it. He didn't see that he was part of the problem. It always had to be someone else's fault. I explicitly said in my letter whose fault it was and he still didn't take any responsibility.

But suddenly I'm one of their best designers, and he begged me to reconsider, take some time off to think about it. They desperately wanted me to stay and they were willing to bargain, I just needed demands.

No one's ever… begged me before. I don't know if I like that.

This is when it dawned on me that I was next in line. It all made sense now: training me to route, making me do all the extra work, and now they want me to stay?

They were planning on getting rid of Grandpa and promoting me to manager. In a perfect world where Grandpa resigns willingly and I’m promoted on my merits as a designer and the company wasn’t very quickly circling the drain, I would be excited. But I wasn’t. I was frightened. I watched them take a confident, extremely talented woman and turn her into the whipping boy of the flower shop. And if I were in her position, I would have quit. But I don’t have the strength to stand up to the people that are signing my paycheck.

Why… am I at a place where the idea of moving upward makes me more scared than excited?

Flattering, but no. I've seen how you treat your people. My demands are to treat them better.

It was the longest week for me: making lists of pros and cons. I had made a lot of friends there and there's stuff that I will never forget. But the fact that the only people who didn't understand why I was leaving were the people who had the most to lose really hit me in the knees. I could tell them every day for the rest of their lives why they suck and it wouldn't matter because nothing was ever their fault.

And at 7:00 on Friday, I turned in my key.

I didn't have a plan, I didn't have anything lined up. This was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make and I was just kind of… throwing myself at it.

I don't do that. I always have a plan. I look into every possible scenario and I try to make the smart choice. And this time…

I didn't.

It was probably stupid.

But I slept for 12 hours the next night and I could feel my bones settling into their rightful places. I didn't realize how many health problems were caused by standing for 9 hours a day, 11 days a week until I was home all the time to notice them changing. I will always have a limp from trying to pretend I don't have a limp. I'm pretty sure that ulcer is chronic. But my back isn't seizing up and I don't cry every day anymore.

That's something, I think.

About a week after my departure, I got a text from Grandpa that said:

"Hey guess what."

"What," I replied.

The next text was a picture of a week's old seal-point kitten with terminal eye-goo, wrapped in a towel.

"Pop-eye!?"

"I'm keeping this one," she said. The strays had dropped a litter of identical baby kittens by her pond. Two years later, with Jake put down, she could finally have Pop-eye, even if it was version 2.0.

The next text was a few days later. "Puppet fired me."

"What!? Why?"

"Too many accidents, too high turnaround. The new people suck, he says no one wants to work with me."

"Are you okay? How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." She paused and the loading screen did its little dot dance. "I'm playing with my kitten."

#cw #pet death #death #workers rights violations #if you want to know everything #this is everything

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moonbaby26 · 3 years

Text

Title: Growing Love

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: Story set nearer the Viking Age. You were a Greek sea goddess who crossed paths with the god of mischief. Continuation of previous chapter. Loki returns to Asgard and is confronted by his mother Frigga and her accurate suspicions on his newfound interest in Midgard. While you witness the completion of the building erected for you and Loki by the villagers, followed by his return back to you in the night.

Warnings: None this chapter. Just fluff! First Loki and his mental sparring with Frigga who loves him, and then some well deserved cuddling with you who is also starting to.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @rosaline-black , @lawfeys , @loveableasshole , @insanitybyanothername , @just-wordsandthoughts , @cringingmemeries

My Masterlist

——————————

A few days ago, Asgard

Loki emerged from the light, now back home before the bifrost immediately closed once more. The smug smile remained on his face as your last question still played through his mind. He knew that nickname he’d given you wouldn’t be something you’d let go of anytime soon. In fact, he counted on it. Something to distract and occupy you for the coming weeks until he could return.

It may be selfish of course. But if you were becoming stuck in his mind this often, he had to make sure he wasn’t the only one now having to suffer. Though there was something rewarding about getting to hide you away still. Even if he knew the arrangement in the village would come to light eventually, potentially making these trips to your realm far more problematic.

The sooner he could find an alternate route to Midgard to bypass the bifrost and Heimdall entirely, the better. He could not allow all his future ability to see you to become solely dependent on Odin’s whims.

Whatever the Allfather would think of these risks now being taken though, Loki truly did not care. But historically, whatever he’d most desired always ended up taken away from him in one way or another. Or even worse, absorbed into the limitless well of good fortune that seemed to follow Thor like a miasma. So he had to prepare for that, plan for it really.

Of course, you didn’t seem the type to fall apart so easily over just some long blonde hair and an oversized set of muscles. But Loki had lost count ages ago of how many times he’d still ended up with the short end of the stick whenever his brother had entered any situation. Parading you before Thor wan’t something he was willing to chance just yet either.

No, he had to consider both his father and brother now as threats to these new emotions he was still trying to define. It likely shouldn’t be so, but somehow it always was. They always got in his way.

And as Loki now strode forward, his appearance only shifted to that of a standard royal guard, wishing for a more discreet entrance back into the palace after so many hours away. He had let the adorations of those mortals delay him far more than expected.

But the feel of sitting at the head of that mead hall with you at his side had hit him in such a strange way as well. A fleeting taste which had caused him to linger even further there as he’d fantasized about sitting similarly content on Asgard’s throne one day.

That dream of seizing his birthright was nothing new of course, yet the difference was now the addition of you in that mental image. He wanted you there so suddenly, with loyalty and pride radiating from you for all the court to see. He needed you to want to be his, to be willing to do whatever necessary to defy Asgard’s enemies in his name.

And even now, those thoughts brought a flare of desire that he could not act on. Frustrating as it was, he knew he had to maintain some semblance of patience. Heimdall’s silent stare of judgement didn’t even rile him to speaking either as the still disguised Loki passed silently by the gatekeeper.

He was bold enough to change appearance right in front of Heimdall, yes. But he also knew that until he crossed the line of actually doing something which broke Asgardian law, Heimdall would still keep what he had seen to himself. Travel to Midgard was not yet forbidden after all.

But Heimdall’s current courtesy of silence would only go so far as to delay the inevitable. The clock was still ticking on this secret and Loki knew it.

And unlike Midgard that had still been fully night, dawn was now just breaking in Asgard as Loki made his way back into the palace. The sparse guards he did encounter, he only gave little mocking salutes to. Still in the guise of one of them as he’d mimicked their own protocols before he’d turned the corner into the next corridor and ended up at the massive doors to his own living quarters.

So close to being able to hide himself back away for a few moments before the palace fully awakened, he had just placed his palms on the ornate, golden door handles when a sudden sound made him still completely.

“Good morning, son.” The placid voice called to him from nothing as his mother Frigga only materialized directly behind him.

And there was just that smallest moment of fear inside him. Just the length of a heartbeat before he’d turned smoothly to face her, his own magic dissolving to remove his disguise as excuses bubbled readily to his mind.

Of course he was still in the same armor from all those hours before, the muck of that mortal village even still marring the soles of his boots as he offered her an easy smile. “Well...how long have you been waiting here, Mother?”

Yet she responded just as simply, a gentle look in her eyes. “Not long at all really. I suppose I have good timing.”

But he was still searching, examining her body language for any hint of her actual intention. How much did she know? “I suppose that you do. Have Father and dear brother yet returned triumphant from Alfheim then?” No, he doubted that. The halls would not be near as peaceful if so.

“No. They have not.” She only answered. “...But that is exactly why I thought you may wish to speak to me now while whatever we discuss can still be kept relatively private.”

And there it was. He felt that slight bit of tension in his chest as he weighed his options in quick succession. The foundation with you still wasn’t fully laid, he needed more time to secure things. Even though he trusted Frigga, she and the Allfather went hand in hand in the end. She would not lie to her husband if pressed.

And Odin may forbid this odd new relationship outright, fearing some insult to Poseidon no doubt. If that foreign, Olympian king fully knew that the Asgardian god of mischief was now digging his claws greedily into his youngest daughter without permission, it could easily become a full blown scandal.

Loki hadn’t even bothered to investigate if you were betrothed to anyone in your own kingdom or not either. He did not care. He was a prince and would take whatever he wanted.

Though he knew it better to reveal nothing of you to his own family just yet, he also knew that if he offered Frigga too little in return, she would only step up her efforts to investigate on her own. Motherly concern and all, endearing at times, highly troublesome at others. He’d let her feel as if she had pried a little out of him at least as he played along. “And what is it that we should need to discuss so privately, Mother?” Loki asked calmly at last.

Yet she only smiled, surprising him a little still as she took his arm. “Come. Walk with me. You needn’t play such games. A mother knows when her son is enamored.”

He scoffed, though still letting himself be led as they did begin to walk. The halls were still empty enough this early in the morning for their words to not be easily overheard. “Is that what you think this all about? I think you’re confusing me with that manchild of yours for once.”

“Loki,” Frigga only chided. “It is not weakness to admit such feelings. And yes, for your brother that is an all too frequent cycle. He is not yet mature enough for his relationships to be anything but passing frivolity. But you are different. Which is why it becomes all the more noticeable when it finally does happen. Do not waste breath to deny it.”

He raised his eyebrows, never missing when she did offer even the slightest criticism of Thor. But he was still quick to downplay her insinuation about your importance. “Yet you act as if it has never happened for me before. Just because I’ve been more focused on honing my sorcery skills the last several years, it doesn’t mean I haven’t had my share of frivolity as you call it, Mother.”

But Frigga just gave him a disapproving look then. “Do not be crude just to try and shorten this conversation. There is a clear difference between solely that kind of physical interaction you speak of, and this distraction that has now carried you back to Midgard more than three times now. And you know the significance of the number three in so many of the rituals and rights I have taught you, it-”

“No.” He cut in abruptly. That was the line. If she was trying to say this was already something now beyond his control, something fated, he fully rejected that notion. “I don’t follow the predetermined, Mother. And you know I never want to hear whatever future you’ve seen for me. I will make my own.”

But the queen of Asgard was not one to back down either, responding just as strongly, “And all a witch can see is the possible outcomes, not the one that will truly be. I would never curse you with the burden of such knowledge, even if I were sure. But don’t patronize me to act as if nothing has changed for you. I came here to offer you my help, Loki. If you ever wish to make whoever you have chosen legitimate in the Allfather’s eyes, to actually bring them here one day, you will not be able to do it alone. I hope you understand that.”

“Mother...” He couldn’t help but pause to look in her eyes again, as unexpected as that offer really was. Yet he so quickly grabbed onto the possible other meaning as well in her concern. “You say ‘legitimate’ almost as if I was considered the true heir again. After all, who the future king of Asgard could court would be awfully more important than whoever just a prince would choose, correct? Of course, I suppose a marriage that one day joined Asgard and Midgard would also be significantly more impressive politically than say Thor and Sif, or whoever the Hel he’s galavanting around with these nights...”

She gave him a little hit on the arm at that. Of course he knew she hated whenever he mocked whoever his brother’s current fancy was. But she still just continued. “What should be important to you is finding the person that makes you happy, regardless of their own station. That is the future I want for both my sons. Whichever of you should one day hold the throne.”

Of course she still refused to admit Father’s favoritism that Loki saw all too well. He straightened up a little, that real sincerity in him burning through then. “But it will be me, Mother. I will prove myself worthy to Father, worthy of the throne. One way or another.”

And he hated that sympathetic look in her eyes, even though the real warmth was still there as she answered. “And I still say you’ll be far happier when you focus on yourself rather than chasing the Allfather’s approval. He already loves you both, just as I do.”

That was all he could handle for now, as he took her hand gently, bowing to her slightly before he kissed it. “No, he does not love as unequivocally as you do, Mother. But I do thank you for that. I will consider your offer. Yet I think it is still too early just yet.”

And as he straightened back up, he could see she at least accepted this. She would not dig any further into his visits to Midgard just yet. But he’d only bought additional time for just so long he was sure.“I’m going back to my quarters for a brief rest now.” He told her. “But if you need me any further today, you will find me in the throne room. Where I belong.”

Until Odin and Thor returned from Alfheim, this would be his privilege. His days would be spent hearing any grievances of the kingdom, presiding over council meetings, casting decisions on any changes to security measures, and standing as the head of all the remaining soldiers here for Asgard’s defense.

But at night...at night he’d return to his chambers. And laying there alone, surely that would be when he’d pass the remaining time awake thinking of you. Thinking and hoping that those mortals would hurry up and complete that room and bed for you both.

Whatever they built would still not be to his standards he was sure. But until you could truly lay in his own bed beneath him in Asgard, he would have to accept the compromise of a little hovel of a den for you both in Midgard.

—————————-

Midgard, several weeks later

The days passed so slowly for you. You now divided your time between your normal duties monitoring the oceans, and taking that form of the osprey, flying to visit the little village in the north that Loki had claimed for you both.

Never before had you spent so much time around mortals to be honest. And at first you’d still taken every possible measure to remain hidden from their sight. But eventually, that effort grew too tiresome.

After a while, you didn’t stay so high in the trees any longer. Yourself curious to be true, and watching as step by step they’d raised the timbers to begin building that structure Loki had requested.

You still stayed just out of their reach surely, but you didn’t fly away anymore when you saw them take notice of you. They’d even greet you quite frequently now, just calling you that nickname Loki had given you which they thought your real name. Kærr.

Especially the children. Whenever they moved out into the forest to play or gather freshwater from the nearby stream you’d also now discovered, they always giggled and called to you as they ran along beneath.

You’d even noticed that they gradually seemed to stray farther and farther from the village than they had in the beginning. As if your presence alone gave them confidence of their safety. It was such an odd sense of responsibility. One you weren’t quite sure you were ready for just yet.

The days were growing shorter too, the nights far colder by the time they finally finished that building. And as Loki had suggested, it was still quite small. Like a one room cabin really. Though they’d made quite a show of asking for your approval on it, you didn’t know what you were supposed to really do. They seemed to take your silence as a positive at least before they’d left again saying you could now summon your “master” and they would leave him to his privacy in the new dwelling.

You’d still waited until it was late at night though, knowing most the mortals would now be sleeping before you’d finally landed, changing back to the form of a woman as you’d walked to take a closer look at the building in the dim moonlight.

They’d built this also far enough from the village, here in the deeper woods that they could not stumble accidentally back upon it unless they really meant to. So you weren’t afraid of being seen as you’d walked the perimeter curiously.

It seemed sturdy enough. Quaint, but somehow inviting. And as you moved back towards the door, you realized they’d also listened to Loki’s criticism on their village’s carvings needing to be changed to reflect their new protector.

You couldn’t help but smile as you recognized well that likeness as you now ran your fingers across the rises and falls carved into the wood. The cape, the outlines of armor, the horned helmet...

But the real surprise was his pose, one arm bent, raised near level with his chest. And there perched upon that arm, was a bird of prey. You. Looking far more regal than you ever really had right to be you were sure.

There was a mix of mild embarrassment and a strange amusement that rose in you as you took the whole image in. It was quite possibly the only likeness anyone had ever made for you in the mortal realm. And paired with Loki no less.

Eros’ words carried on your heart still as you finally opened the door to venture inside. You knew Eros couldn’t be wrong, not on this subject. But it didn’t seem like it should be true either. How could you be falling in love when you didn’t even know the real meaning of the word? When you’d only had such fleeting meetings with this man?

The little bit of moonlight barely penetrated the inside of the dwelling and you just left the door open to not fully smother the light as you walked in onto the rough wooden floors. Though they’d laid down some rugs as well as your feet found them.

The furniture was sparse and simple, though maybe still the best of what they had to be truthful. A couple chairs, a small table, a chest for belongings, and of course a bed.

There were candles, but you had nothing to light them with as you now sat down on the empty bed. It was certainly a far cry from the large and extravagant bedding in your father’s palace.

But for someone who could just as easily sleep to the rocking of the waves or the silence of the deeper depths, a makeshift mattress stuffed with wool, moss, or who really knew what, really wasn’t a problem.

It was so quiet too. You laid down on your back, just to get the feeling of it as you stared up at the beams which arched into the ceiling. It reminded you most of the beams inside the hull of a ship, which was likely little coincidence. The ancestors of these people were all seafarers.

Idly, you wondered too if Loki had ever been to sea. You knew from those books you’d read that Asgard had waters of its own. But did he feel comfortable on the water? Did he ever sail? Did he swim? And maybe more importantly, would he ever swim with you?

You closed your eyes, thinking what it could be like to show him things he’d never seen before. Would he feel as good under the water as he did above it? Would he ever visit your own kingdom?

Of his own family, all you really knew was the tension and seeming competition between he and his brother. Would any of your own siblings be impressed by him though? Surprised surely. You’d never brought anyone to the palace before. Maybe one day...

————————————

You thought you were only dreaming. Because it wasn’t as if it hadn’t happened before. Especially in the long stretches between seeing one another. That scent of him, the feel of his cool skin against your own, albeit only making you feel heated as you breathed in deeper.

It wasn’t until you felt that lightest kiss on the back of your neck that your eyes fluttered open. Laying on your side on the bed, as your vision focused you noticed the door to the cabin was now closed. That and a single candle newly lit, flickering dimly on the small table just a few feet away.

You’d fallen asleep at some point. For how long was unclear. But you were absolutely no longer alone.

“Hello, Kærr.” Loki’s voice came in an almost taunting whisper, using that nickname again.

You were startled, but you didn’t hesitate, rolling over immediately to then be face to face with him in the shifting candlelight.

The glint of his teeth met you as he smiled in amusement. But whatever harsh words you may have thought he still deserved, they didn’t come as you’d also noticed his bare chest now nearly against you.

You had to glance down to realize he wasn’t nude however. But dressed solely in a dark pair of pants as he laid so closely beside you.

“You left the door open you know. I took it as an invitation.” He added, one hand now tracing idly down the side of your dress.

“How long have you been here?” You finally asked, but tellingly not pulling away at all as you let the small touches continue.

“Long enough to realize you’ll have me putting protection spells all around these walls if this is how deeply you really sleep, goddess. Imagine if I’d wanted to do more than kiss that pretty throat.”

You stared a moment. And yes, maybe you should have been embarrassed to be caught so defenseless. But in reality, what real enemies had you ever had? You didn’t live always keeping one eye over your shoulder. Yet...was he implying he would choose to protect you if it ever came to that?

You only shifted closer to him at those words rather than retort though, boldly laying your head against his chest then as you scooted down a little in the bed. You liked the way he tensed slightly too, seeming surprised before he just pulled the bed’s quilt up around you both.

The secure feeling as his arm tightened around you beneath the blanket was also very new. Both of you quiet until it was you who next broke the silence. “Will you stay tonight then?” You could have asked how he’d known you were here, how many times he’d been checking on you via Heimdall, but it really didn’t matter.

All you actually cared about in this moment was how long until you’d have to say goodbye to him again.

His tone seemed unusual, caught off guard still perhaps. But he answered simply. “If it’s what you want. Yes.”

Which likely meant that his father and brother had finally returned to Asgard you thought. But you didn’t want to talk about anyone else right now. This time was now just for the two of you.

“It is what I want.” You confirmed, though not looking up at him in the bed. But with your head still against his chest, you could just hear his own heartbeat. And you didn’t think it was only in your imagination that it quickened at those simple words.

But it was true. You may not understand or be able to express more than this right now. You didn’t know how to talk about love or deeper need. Yet you could be honest to say you wanted him to stay. You wanted him beside you for as long as he could be.

And he just held onto you, staying pressed together as if it should always be this way. But it had to mean something to him too you hoped. Because Loki didn’t seem at all the type of god to do anything if it didn’t fulfill some sort of need for himself as well.

No, you didn’t think he would stay just because you’d asked, unless he’d already wanted to. But you wouldn’t question it out loud, not now as you closed your eyes again.

It likely didn’t take you very long to fall back asleep either to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat beneath your head. Yet even as you did you could also feel the rise and fall of his chest steadying out as his breathing relaxed in tandem.

If he did stay awake to watch you, it only would have been just barely as the two of you remained curled into one another beneath that blanket. He’d asked you once before, though under more lustful circumstances, if you could get used to being with him. You’d answered yes then, wanting the chance surely, but had he meant it in this way too when he’d asked?

Eros had given you the advice to see this through. He said it was the only way to know if your growing love might ever actually be returned by this god. And that was exactly what you were now going to do.

—————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#loki #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x oc #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki lafeyson #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki odison x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki fandom #loki x original character #loki x original female character

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shoichee · 3 years

Text

Rose-Tinted

Craving for angst with kise please!! Like both are afraid to act on their feelings which ends up hurting the both of them unconsciously. Idk, maybe kise is trying to “test” the girl, but went a bit too far i guess. Whatever floats your boat!! I just want angst but maybe hopefully still HEA in the end (or whichever your muse takes you) ;-; thank youu ❤️

Kise x Reader

Word Count: 6975

Note: oh my GOD, HELP THIS WAS 17 PAGES ON MY GOOGLE DOC I COULDNT STOP MYSELF………. angst, happy ending, fake dating!au, mean old kise ….. girl idk WHAT I WROTE I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT ????? reader POV first half and kise POV second half~

@knb-kreations

»»—————　☼　—————««

He holds you so gently, the touch so feather-light as he cradles your head and dips his own head in for a soft peck. The warmth of his lips makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel, things that you still chased for more in a never-ending cycle. You hold onto his hands thumbing your temples to try to anchor yourself further into the bliss, but it ends all too soon when he separates from you and gives you a radiant smile.

You were rudely pulled out of your rose-tinted trance when you heard gasps and chatter amongst the gawking students nearby, particularly Kise’s fans. He doesn’t pay any mind to their reactions and turns his friendly demeanor towards them.

“So you see everyone,” he cheerfully says. “I’m sorry I can’t accept any of your affections, as much as it flatters me so… after all, I have my dear (y/n)-cchi by my side!”

Groans and cries rung throughout the campus as most wail about missing out the opportunity to be Kise’s romantic partner, but before you can listen to their laments, Kise hurriedly tugs you away to the privacy of the back of a building nearby, away from prying eyes and ears. He drops your wrist just as fast and yawns with a stretch.

“What time should we meet up tomorrow?” he casually says, taking out his phone from his pocket.

“Huh?”

“Well, we can’t exactly sell our image of us being a couple unless we walk to and from school together consistently, right (y/n)?”

The rose-tinted lenses on your self-indulgent fantasy shatters to the ground instantly. You gulp, the swallowed spit hitting down to your stomach in heavy dread, where it was previously occupied by fluttering butterflies just moments prior.

This isn’t real.

“Ah… um,” you hesitated, thinking of a reasonable time, so you can wake up and get ready accordingly. “How about this time…”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he replies, shutting off his phone before he walks a few steps away from you but then stopping. “Huh, uh… should I walk you home first? There might be some nosy people around, and we might as well get some practice in as an official couple.”

“W-Why don’t we start tomorrow morning instead?” you suggest. “A lot’s happened today, and well, I wanna have some time to myself.” Kise impassively stares at you for a couple of seconds before he forms a grin.

“Ah ha, well then, (y/n)-cchi,” he shouts jovially, making sure that his voice rang throughout the area for anyone nearby to hear. “I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow morning, my love!”

“Y-Yeah…” you mumbled, your hand held up in a half-hearted wave. “See you…”

With that parting, you turned to the opposite direction to exit through the side gates to get to your home. Your mind scrambles to recall the impulsive decisions you decided to take on a whim today. The grip on your bag tightens as you finally realized what sort of situation you got yourself into.

You like Kise, plain and simple. You’ve always gazed longingly at him whenever his presence entered within your line of vision. You couldn’t even fault his fans for being so whipped for the basketball player in the first place, not when you felt like you were more enthralled by him than anyone else. So what does a love-stricken fool like you do when the source of attraction directly asks you to partake in a “relationship?” You immediately accept his conditional proposal on auto-pilot before he barely finishes his sentence.

It felt so wrong, yet so right. How can you hate this arrangement when you enjoyed that first kiss you shared with Kise earlier? But how can you love this arrangement when you knew Kise only kissed you to drive everyone off? You stopped on the sidewalk and heaved a huge exhale, and you continued to walk again, the action not even remotely able to clear your head. Your mind continues to swirl and race.

You agreed to this. He even laid out his intentions very clearly to you, and he was more than ready to leave you alone if you didn’t consent to this. But stupid, desperate you did. You were ashamed to feel even a shred of flattery when he told you that you were the only one he can ask to drive off his fans in this only effective method: a relationship.

“Why me?” you said, looking up at his casual posture. “Don’t you have someone you like to ask to be in a relationship? I’m sure they’d be more than happy to accept you…”

“Well,” he mumbled. “I don’t really have someone in mind… you’re kinda the only one who doesn’t drool over me whenever I’m near, and I just ought to ask for your help.”

“W-Well,” you slightly stammered. “I’m okay with helping you, right, so…”

“This isn’t something to accept so readily, you know,” he said, raising a brow. “I know this is super sudden, and it wouldn’t be fair for me to force an answer out of you right at this moment. Besides, I don’t think there’s any incentive for you to be in this either? It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“N-No!” you interrupted, but you coughed to regain your composure. “I mean, I do have something in this… maybe if I got with you, people would stop trying to harass and tease me if I had someone like you by my side.” That was a half-truth, but you knew there was no way you could reveal your crush to him… not when he believed you were “different” from the others. But can anyone blame you for sticking up for Kise when someone was talking about him like a piece of meat rather than a normal person? “Besides, for you to get to this point, things must’ve gotten too chaotic to simply tell them to stop, right?”

“Huh… is that so,” he said, stretching his neck, but you didn’t know whether or not he intentionally ignored your last question. “Well, if you’re fine with this, I’m letting you know now that we’ll be doing actual couple stuff, like…” He pauses for a second to gauge your reaction. “Hugging, hand-holding… probably kissing too…”

“Y-Yeah,” you nodded. “That’s fine with me! And we’ll have a code word in case either of us overstep our boundaries in any way… maybe…”

“Unagi,” he said.

“Huh? Why?”

“Because they’re the bane of evil…”

“It’s just a dish, but…” you laughed, giddy at how he already showed a different side to you apart from his cool persona. “Alright, let’s go with that.”

How long were you able to keep this up? You pat yourself on the cheeks to dismiss the rest of your fantasies. If you keep this up, Kise will soon notice how you actually were head-over-heels for him all this time, and surely you’ll lose any future chance with him. Besides, maybe you can use this unique arrangement to learn about Kise and his hobbies other than basketball. Yes, you tell yourself, jogging the rest of the way home. It won’t be so bad, after all.

———

Starting today, you’ll be officially dating Kise.

That’s how it is on paper, anyways.

How are you supposed to act while dating the Kise Ryōta? Equally cool and flamboyant? Athletically capable? Would you weird out Kise if you were the one initiating physical affection?

“(y/n)!”

You flinch, not expecting anyone to call for you so early in the morning, and your walking route to school was never shared with another student as far as you were concerned. After all, your path was a little more obscured and unorthodox compared to the majority of students traversing the main neighborhood paths.

“Sorry… did I scare you?” You stop and turn to the source of the voice, only to be surprised when you see Kise himself. “Why do you look so surprised? Didn’t we agree on the time to meet up and walk to school together?”

“Oh… yeah…” In the midst of your thoughts, it seems that you forgot the arrangements you made with him yesterday evening. “My bad?”

“Oh, come on,” he gives a mock-hurt face with a hand to his chest. “Am I that forgettable, (y/n)?”

“N-No!” you immediately deny. You knew it was more like the other way around, the way constant thoughts of Kise preoccupy in your head too much. How can you ever forget him when he constantly runs through your mind everyday for so long? Kise merely gives a good-natured sigh before he changes the subject.

“Kidding,” he says, holding out a hand to you. “Seriously though, get your act together. We gotta start acting the part if we want this to work.” You stare at his hand, hesitating for a split moment before you put your own hand on top. His large hand easily encompasses yours, and the warmth makes you widen your eyes. It… felt nice.

You were so entranced by your linked hands that you failed to notice how Kise was staring at your face with a sharp glint in his eyes, but when you look up back to his face, he easily morphs his expression into his signature grin. He swings your hands around like an excited kid and turns to walk ahead to tug you along.

“Alrighty!~ Let’s hurry together before I get chewed out by Kasamatsu-senpai!”

“Kise, have you ever considered that it’s not really your tardiness that gets the captain mad but more so about the way you seem to irritate him with the way you skip around?”

“(y/n),” he says with a pout, “you know you’re not being convincing when you use my last name to address me as your boyfriend.”

“R-Right,” you stammer, still not used to the entire situation. “Ah… wait. Don’t you uh… call people who are close to you with -cchi?”

“Huh…” he mumbles, looking up at the cloudy sky before looking ahead of the path. “Not necessarily people who are close, just people who I really admire. I guess I addressed you like that yesterday without really thinking.”

“U-Uh, right… sorry.” He stops walking with your hand still in tow, and you almost bumped into his back at his sudden movement. He turns to you with a quite serious look.

“Do you want me to call you that?”

It was a normal question, but for some reason it felt like the next sentence coming from your mouth would make a huge impact on the way the two of you would interact in the future. From the way Kise looks at you with such a scrutinizing gaze, it feels like a trick question, and you’re not sure how to answer it. Your mouth goes dry when you try to reply.

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Kise’s eyes widen a fraction before he gives an unexpected chortle. “Pfft… how do you not know what you want to be addressed as?”

“Arrgh, oh shut it!” you frown, hitting his arm in a fluster before stalking off ahead. You remember that you were supposed to go to school together, and you begrudgingly stop and turn back to wait for him to catch up. “Ryōta, just call me whatever you want. You’re already calling me by my first name, so I doubt anyone would care if you added -cchi or not.” Still, your cheeks turn pink at the realization that Kise would be uttering your first name for the next couple… whenever this relationship will last.

“You… wait up!” Kise wheezes dramatically, despite the both of you knowing full well how easily he can catch up to your stride. “You really shouldn’t be treating your boyfriend like that! Especially on the first day!” Kise holds your hand again to lead you to the rest of the way to school.

All the while, you’ve been staring at his back, your heartstrings being tugged so mercilessly at the cacophony of emotions you were feeling the whole time. He felt so warm, so inviting, but the way he held your hands felt cold and transactional.

———

You’re not sure how to react whenever Kise introduced himself as your “boyfriend” to everyone or whenever nosy students inquired about your new “boyfriend.” All you could do was gulp and manage the most convincing act you could do within different contexts. Smile, laugh, get bashful, be modest in talking about how Kise managed to “like” you, pretend you know many embarrassing stories and sides to him that no one else did. Truthfully, you were just as in the dark as anybody else.

You think the only reason why everyone bought the couple-act was due to how enamored you were in talking about him. This was the only response you could be truthful about. At least you could use your huge crush to your advantage in portraying yourself as the “lovey-dovey” half of the couple. Yet it feels unbelievably wrong.

You knew you had to prepare yourself some preset answers for curious students, but you didn’t expect yourself to be participating in neverending “interviews” in these social settings. You thought this relationship would entail a closer access to Kise’s true self, but things suggest otherwise.

“Ryōta,” you say, peering up at his face as the both of you walk down the hallway to your designated spot for lunch together. Even as you two walk, he puts a reasonable distance between the two of you when there is no one in close proximity. Even when you two are together, he only grabs your hand when it’s socially convenient. Even when Kise approaches you to talk, you know it’s never anything beyond for the sake of acting. And you agreed to this entire thing.

“Hm?” He spares a glance to your figure before returning his gaze ahead.

“Uh, I brought extra food today,” you say, trying to use this situation to try to express your genuine feelings to him in small increments. “I brought an extra bento box too… in case, you don’t wanna actually share one…” He was about to reply before a pair of students turned around the corner to head towards your direction. Kise narrows his eyes at the unexpected turn of events, and immediately turns to you brightly.

“(y/n)! You really thought that I wouldn’t like the idea?” he pouts. “Of course I wanna share a bento with you! Silly…” He slightly bends to your level to place a chaste peck on your forehead.

“Ah…” you freeze at his soft touch, your legs stiff in place as you stop walking. Kise, in response, moves his lips to your ears, and you slightly shiver at the unexpected intimacy… it was the closest he’s gotten to you ever since that public stunt when he kissed you in front of everyone the other day.

“Hey, don’t just stand there… you can’t overreact like this over something couples do everyday.” You bit your lip in an attempt to stop your heart from sinking from disappointment, but in turning your face to him to spill an apology, your face ended up right in front of his. Your eyes widen but he only stares at you with such an intensity that makes you hold your breath in anticipation.

But he immediately draws away and stretches with a yawn. “Looks like those people left right after they thought they intruded on a private moment between us,” he says. “Sheesh, people really do the most to be so nosy nowadays.” You wonder how he can be so casual about this all. Perhaps it was a mistake to be here like this when you were so in love with him, overthinking every single thing he did.

Why didn’t he kiss you this time? Did he not find you the teensiest attractive enough to want to kiss you even without an audience nearby?

“Come on,” he mumbles, waving a hand through your face. “Quit making that face. I won’t be doing that to you without warning anytime soon. My bad, okay?” Kise sheepishly holds out a hand for a handshake to make peace, and you wordlessly take his hand. One day, you’ll stop being his special someone to savor his warmth…

No, you thought, you’re an idiot… he’s never considered you as someone special.

You debated in telling him that you were fine with him kissing you, but you hold your tongue, afraid that he’ll realize your true feelings about him. Besides, were you really okay with him kissing you when he didn’t reciprocate the same feelings?

“It… wasn’t like what you think,” you hesitate. “It just caught me off guard.”

“Well,” he laughs. “That’s a relief! By the way…” He stops to settle himself on the bench. “What’s exactly your lunch? Since you went through the effort to bring extras, I guess I’ll eat them.”

“I packed salmon from leftovers I had from home,” you reply, taking out your bento box and utensils. You decide to shake off your negative thoughts and shove them to the back of your mind. He makes a horrified face at the lunchbox. “Kise, what’s wrong?”

“Do you… happen to have anything else packed?”

“Rice?”

“Well,” he coughs. “I’m not a fan of dishes with boned fish.”

“Didn’t you say you hated unagi too?” Kise shyly averts his gaze before he reluctantly confirms it so. “They’re delicious though! Especially when they’re grilled!” At first, he refused to answer, but the more you tried to poke and prod (literally too, at his ribs), he finally gave in.

“Alright, alright! But I swear, you better not tell anyone!… I choked on a fish bone one time…”

“… And?”

“And yeah.”

“You choked on a bone once and you got scared out of eating fish—”

“Shhhh!” he hushes, emphasizing his hiss with a finger to his lips. At this very moment, you saw a glimpse into who Kise really is, and you can’t help but bust out a genuine, carefree laugh for the first time in front of him. In embarrassment, he bonks your head with his fist to get you to stop laughing, but it only makes you more conscious of how close he is to you.

But just as quickly and telepathically, Kise puts some distance between the two of you, sitting closer to the edge of the bench. He opts to hunch over casually and keenly watch you scarf down your meal in minutes without a care.

You wonder if you should feel guilty for enjoying this moment with Kise, even if he was only waiting with you out of obligation of being your “boyfriend,” but right now, you allowed yourself to indulge, letting your heart beat sporadically without guilt and fear for once. You continue to savor your lunch in silence, concentrating on munching around the fish bones, while Kise sat in contemplation all the while.

———

“You should come watch our practice game today, (y/n).”

“Eh?”

You tilt your head at him in confusion. It’s been two weeks since you started this arrangement with him, but nothing extraordinary or groundbreaking happened between the two of you, much to your despondency. But you knew, you shouldn’t be asking for too much when you already have the once-in-a-lifetime chance to be close to him like this.

“There’s going to be a lot of people coming,” he explains. “Even if it’s just a practice game… it’d be weird if you weren’t there, because, you know, we’re dating.”

“I don’t mind going,” you reply. “It sounds fun.”

“You know, you’ve been agreeing to everything I’ve been suggesting the entire time,” he mumbles to himself, but he zips his mouth shut when he sees you instinctively moving closer to try to catch what he said. “Uh, in any case… just stop by the gym whenever you can.”

So here you are a few hours later, being the first person to settle yourself on top of the 2nd floor of the gym. You rest your arms on the railway, fascinated by the Kaijō basketball team and their skills. As they warm up on the courts, it’s the first time you see Kise truly at ease and happy with the people he cares about, and your heart pangs in jealousy seeing his genuine smile. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you realized the gym became completely crowded, the constant chattering announcing huge crowds along the entrance and the lucky watchers at the 2nd floor with you.

You didn’t mind the onlookers when all you were focused on was Kise throughout the entire game with a smitten look, and you weren’t surprised when his team easily won against the other local school.

“That’s Kise isn’t it?” You were about to turn to leave the higher floor to wait outside the gym when you heard his name. You stop to eavesdrop on the conversation next to you.

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing about him way too much. Something about him dating now?”

“He’s dating (l/n) right now, which is super weird because they never even talked… and all of the sudden, they’re dating? I didn’t think of him to be into short-term flings.”

“You think he’s using (l/n) in some way? What an asshole.”

“Yikes. You’re probably not even that far off the bulls-eye. He’s a really heartless guy, from what I’ve heard.”

“Hey,” you interrupt, scaring the two girls out of their wits before they turn to you. “I don’t think you should talk about Kise like that when all you know of him is through speculation.”

“Ugh, here we go again with his fans…” one of them groans, rolling her eyes. “Look, I get it, he’s good-looking and all, but I don’t understand how you can defend him to death when he doesn’t even spare a glance at you… ah… shit, you’re (l/n)?” A flash of hurt was visible on your face for a split second before you frowned. Their words unintentionally hit the nail in the coffin.

“Whether I’m (l/n) or not doesn’t really matter,” you say angrily. “Gossiping about anyone like that isn’t something you should make a habit out of.”

“Jeez, let’s just leave,” the other girl whispers, dragging the first girl along.

You simply stand there watching them leave, but you can’t shake off what they said. They were right… how could you be so whipped for him when you know he’ll never see you the same way?

“Oy!”

Kise’s voice brings you back to your consciousness as he waves at you from the court. “You’ve been standing there for a while! Hurry up, or I’ll leave you behind, (y/n)-cchi!”

“Coming!” You race from the 2nd floor to the ground level to catch up to him, your heart pounding all the while. Did he… did he just…?

You shake your head before you reunite with him to walk home together. Stop it… don’t overthink it.

———

Kise waits at his usual spot to wait for you before walking to school together. It’s been three weeks since he’s approached you to “date.” He’s grown quite comfortable with this arrangement, being close to you and backing off when it’s convenient. After all, if you somehow showed a gruesome true self of yours, he’d be able to separate himself from you with no consequences… even if his heart would cry out not to.

“Ryōta!” There you are, running down the path towards him so cheerfully. Could you really be an awful person when you have such a pure smile like that?

“Ah, (y/n)-cchi,” he says. “We should hurry if we wanna be inside campus. It’s a little chilly today, so being indoors sounds really nice right now.” He peers over to your face to see your nose slightly red from the cold, and he huffs out a chuckle, noting the warm puff of air escaping from his own lips.

“I guess it’s a little cold today,” you say, looking up at Kise with a slight childish wonder. “Hey, that’s a pretty cool cloud that you puffed out.”

“You have some clouds around you too.” He gently smiles, and he notes that your eyes widen at the sight of him. “Wha? Is my face that horrific, (y/n)-cchi?” You avert your gaze as your cheeks grow just as red as your nose.

“Nah… i-it’s nothing…ah—” He holds your cheeks to turn your face back to him, and he draws near with a serious gaze, bumping his forehead against yours.

“You’re actually really cold…”

“Uh, um… I don’t think I’m c-cold anymore—” you stammer, your eyes darting to look everywhere but his face, and Kise’s eyes only scrutinize your behavior further.

“Hm, if you say so…” he mumbles. Your eyes flutter close at the anticipation, and he feels the pull towards your lips, closing his own lids shut…

Wait, what was he thinking? He snaps his lids open and slightly draws himself away to look at you, still vulnerable with your closed eyes. It’s only when he drops his hands from your cheeks and turns to walk ahead when you flutter your eyes open again. Don’t let your feelings for (y/n) blind you into figuring out who they really are.

“Come on,” Kise calls out to you. “We should get going… we don’t wanna be late.” Besides, what if there’s a possibility that you don’t really like him at all?

“Y-Yeah…”

The rest of the walk was in silence, with Kise slightly ahead of you. Perhaps if he turned around at least once to check on you, he would’ve seen the consequences of his actions.

You were silently crying the entire walk.

———

Nothing seems to change much for the entire month. The way the two of you dance and sway around each other, while never being too close, never being too affectionate, never being completely honest. In this shared rose-tinted world, the frail glass that holds these moments together threatens to break with every fickle interaction. Every shared kiss constitutes another small crack to the rose-tinted crystal.

And both of you are content with just the way things are.

Or that’s what you both mutter to yourselves like a mantra.

“Ryōta!” you call out to him. “Did you wait long?”

“Not really,” he says. “I just barely got out too… the teacher was really lenient on dismissal today, actually.” His heart swells at the sight of you as usual, but just as quickly, he’s always managed to quash his emotions in check.

For the first time, you initiate physical touch with him without hesitation, linking your hands with his and snuggling up to him. He flinches, not fast enough to process the sudden warmth of your body, and he immediately separates himself from you. Do you actually like him after all?… No, something is up, right?

“Ryōta…?” You flinch just as severely from the sudden reaction, and he turns to avoid looking at your face, knowing that his resolve would crumble right in front of you. He’s a coward, and he fucking knows it.

“S-Sorry, (y/n)-cchi! I don’t know what came over me like that, but you know you don’t have to force yourself to do things like that, right? There’s no one here, so let’s just walk home together like we always do, yeah?”

He turns to already walk ahead, too afraid of hearing your response and hoping you would follow and catch up to him… like you always do.

You simply stood there for a few moments, anguish clear as the sky above you as you keep telling yourself to manage your own expectations. Still, your voice croaks out quietly to respond to him, even if you knew he wasn’t going to hear it.

“… But I wanted to do these things with you, Ryōta.”

———

It’s been several days since that incident.

It was very awkward for the most part, the walks to and from school silent and suffocating. He’s not quite sure how to go about it while trying not to sound disingenuous about it. Nonetheless, even through his quiet apology, your face still lights up, and he’s confused about why you would ever be so forgiving of him.

Although today, lines have been crossed and this shared secretive world between the two of you have completely shattered to the point of no return.

It was quite a blur, an instinct that Kise has developed over the course of this relationship. Every time a group of students drew near, he was always ready to tug you close for a kiss until they left and carry on with their day. Today was usually no exception.

Another group of students was hanging around the corner, presumably spying on you two, and Kise did what he’s always done, grabbing your hand and embracing you for a kiss. Your eyes were blown open in surprise, but when you saw Kise’s eyes elsewhere, something finally snapped inside.

You push him away at his chest.

“U-Unagi… unagi…” Your voice trembles, and you use your arms to cover up the fresh tears. The code word sounds unbelievably stupid out of context, but at this moment, the word alone stabs Kise in his chest. “I-I… just stop… please.” Kise stares dumbly at you, processing the fact that you just used the agreed safe word against him.

“… (y/n)-cchi?” Kise asks with a confused smile. “You’ve never objected to kissing before… I’ve even told you what we’ll be doing if you agreed to this…?”

“How…” you choke on tears. “H-How can you kiss me like that while your eyes are on someone else…?”

“I don’t understand—”

“A-Am I that atrocious to kiss unless you stare at something else or there’s some convenience?”

“I don’t get it, (y/n)-cchi,” he frowns. “Did you expect more out of this or am I missing something?”

“There was no reason to kiss me like that,” you softly wail. “Everyone already knows we’re a thing for… o-over a month now. There’s no reason to kiss me around people anymore when they won’t suspect us anyways…”

“So you don’t want me to kiss you anymore?” Kise’s heart sinks in thinking about where this is going.

“No!—you don’t… you don’t fucking get it! I don’t get it—! Why are we doing this anymore—I just, I see no reason to continue this anymore… you already shooed off your fans, right? Why haven’t you ended this?!”

“(y/n)-cchi—I…” He reaches out for you, but you immediately recoil.

“No—please… no more, I can’t do this anymore!” you sniffle. “I can’t fucking do this… I’m done, I’m tired—please… just look for another person to take my place… I… I’m done—I can’t pretend with you anymore when I always expect more out of it like a love-stricken fool!”

“I…”

“Look—see,” you choke. “I’m just like everyone else who’s in love with you, I’m no different than everyone else R-Ryōta… so that’s why, I-I… can’t do this anymore!”

Kise stands there, staring at you running away from him. It was like everything had gone silent, save for the sound of his blood pounding in his ears.

“You think he’s using (l/n) in some way? What an asshole.”

“Yikes. You’re probably not even that far off the bulls-eye. He’s a really heartless guy, from what I’ve heard.”

He hated rumors, he really did… but for the first time, he feels like he deserves every word thrown at him around the hallways and classrooms. His memory flits to the time when he felt warm from seeing you standing up for him, even if he wasn’t bothered by them before. Now, the warmth is replaced by agonizing regret and guilt wracking through his entire body. His hands feel cold with you gone from his side.

What has he done?

———

He’s grown quiet for the next week.

It’s been a week since you ran from him, and it’s been a week since he last talked to you.

Even his teammates were concerned about his reserved behavior, but just as always, he’s managed to shoot them a convincing smile. Kasamatsu was more persistent about this but eventually dropped it seeing Kise’s refusal to talk about it.

That day when you pushed him away, he couldn’t sleep, his thoughts keeping him awake the entire night. He resolved himself to talk to you the next day… but he changed his mind the last minute… and then he told himself he’d do it the next day… and then he changed his mind again.

He tells himself that it’s because you rightfully hate him, with the way you’d surround yourself with other crowds and groups to prevent him from walking up to you when you were alone. He tells himself that it’s because both you and him needed space to cool off and go back to the way you two were. He refuses to tell himself that it’s because he’s an honest-to-god coward.

He misses you. He misses you damn badly. Why the fuck did he go through such lengths instead of confessing to you straight up? He tells himself that he was being cautious. He tells himself that he doesn’t want his heart to be broken again. He refuses to conclude that it’s because he’s a fucking coward.

“I don’t know what’s been on your mind, idiot,” Kasamatsu says. “But you better solve this yourself quickly if you’re not opening up to me about this. We can’t have your performance quality be dropping even in practice. Hurry up and fix this shit with (l/n)-san already.”

“H-How’d you know?!” Kise raises his head from his desk in astonishment.

“Tch, idiot,” he glowers, chopping Kise’s head with a swift hand. “It’s too obvious from the way you’re moping around… from the way you two stuck together all this time, who wouldn’t notice something happened from the way you’re at your desk watching (l/n)-san like that?”

“O-Ow…” Kise grumbles rubbing his head. Ironically, his captain’s hit cleared up his doubts and he took a deep breath before exhaling. “Got it, senpai.”

“You better.” Kasamatsu goes back to talking to his classmates during break, and even despite not knowing the truth of the relationship, he manages to give solid advice as usual.

Tomorrow. He’ll find you tomorrow.

———

He doesn’t know where else to find you alone other than the place he’s always waited for you before you two used to walk to school together. So he stands there, almost an hour earlier in case you had the idea to walk to school extremely early to avoid him at all costs.

He was right.

Here you are, shuffling your feet as you trudged yourself along the path and looking down at your feet. You even manage to walk past by him without noticing his presence.

Even if you’ve grown to hate him, he’s willed himself to come completely clean about his feelings to you for once. But a part of him is thinking to change his mind again and just let you slip away from his fingers. It’d spare the both of you the inevitable, right?

“R-Ryōta…?”

He was pulled from his thoughts, startled to see you staring at him from a short distance away. Apparently you did notice him after all.

“… (y/n)-cchi…” He swallows his words, knowing full well that his stupid words might blow this up for him again, his words responsible for all the rumors at school, his words responsible for hurting you and will hurt you again.

He wordlessly walks up to you and holds your cheek, and waits. He waits for you to push him away again. He waits for you to say the code word to let him know that you don’t want him near you again. The thought of you running away from him nearly brings him to tears, but he gulps his emotions down and stares at you calmly, with only his upturned brows hinting to his inner turmoil.

“Ryō—”

He swiftly brings his head down and kisses you. In feeling the warmth for the first time in a while, he greedily drinks from your lips, holding your temples more firmly as he searches for more, more, more.

You push him away.

Kise immediately lets go and stares at you like a lost child, unable to mask the devastation from the implications of your actions. But you’re still gripping his uniform tightly, almost as if you didn’t want to let go.

“W-Why…?” you croak, biting your lips to stop any tears from breaking through. “There’s no reason to kiss me. Don’t you know that we’re done? There’s no one to watch us here, no reason for you to walk me to school anymore. You know that, Ryōta. After all, we haven’t talked since a week ago, and you have the audacity to come here and kiss me like everything is okay—”

“… I want to kiss you, because there’s no one around, because there’s no other reason for me to.”

“Why…?” your voice softens to a whisper. “Don’t you hate anyone who likes you in that way? I… I already told you that I see you in that light, like many of your fans do. Don’t you hate me? Don’t you hate me for using this arrangement to get closer to you? Don’t you hate me for expecting something real out of this?”

“I already had an inkling of suspicion that you liked me, (y/n)-cchi,” Kise turns away to look at the bright morning sky. “I just didn’t know if I was wrong or not.”

“Then… why did you ask me to do this whole thing with you…?”

“Because I’m a coward,” he says, looking back to you. You were stunned into silence. For the first time, he finally admits what’s been weighing on his mind for weeks out loud, and his eyes, while drenched in shame, were full of resoluteness. “I liked you, but I was too afraid for the day when you ended up being not like the person I ended up liking. I liked you, but I was afraid of a real relationship that would tie me down. I liked you, but I was afraid of making huge decisions that involved another person into my life. I didn’t want to end the fake relationship because I was too fucking selfish… if I ended it, I’d lose the only connection I had with you… I’m sorry.”

Both of you went silent, bathed in the light of the rising sun. Kise drops to a squat to hide his face from you, and you knew he was trying to stop himself from tearing up. He knows how uncool he looks, but he had no right to cry when you were the one who got hurt the most.

“Ryōta, did you really find it difficult to kiss me…? Just… be honest.”

“Yes,” he looks up from his squat to stare at you with an intense look, even despite his puffy eyes. “Everytime I kissed you, I found it hard to control myself. I thought, what if you were using me to somehow get a kiss from me? or what if I couldn’t stop myself from kissing you and I ended up taking things too far? Looking anywhere but you at least stopped me from getting too invested…”

By now, both of you had turned completely red at his honesty, but he still found you frankly stunning even with your red, puffy eyes. “Look, (y/n)-cchi, don’t you hate me? I used you. The rumors are right—I’m a complete asshole. Just… I won’t blame you if you walk away right now.”

“You do know that I used this opportunity to get closer to you, right?… I wasn’t a saint about this either, so… I’m sorry too.” Both of you go silent again, and you slowly drop yourself to his level in a squat of your own in front of him.

“… C-Can we… can we start over?” you whisper, your warm breath tickling his chilled nose.

“(y/n)-cchi, I don’t think I’m capable of continuing this arrangement…”

“No,” you huff, before you tentatively press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I mean… can we… start over, but this time, as a real couple? I… want this relationship to be substantial. I really do like you, Ryōta.” You murmur against his lips with your hands on top of your knees, waiting for him to rebuke you away with an easygoing comment or a plastered smile.

But he doesn’t do any of that.

“I… guess we can try that,” Kise mumbles, gaze averted as his cheeks flame brighter than his nose and ears.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, your voice cracking at the end out of fear he’d turn down your request. Kise flicks his gaze back to you to see you equally red with a hesitant expression.

“Could you… close your eyes?” he asks with a frown.

“H-Huh?”

“Y-You don’t need to see me looking like a mess, I don’t look charming right now.”

“I… guess…” After a few moments of hesitation, you flutter your eyes shut, waiting apprehensively for his lips to descend onto yours again. Kise holds your cheeks and takes the time to admire your features for the first time, and his smile grows wider with every passing second.

‘R-Ryōta…?” Afraid of the fact that he actually may not like kissing you after all, you worriedly open your eyes, only to be greeted by the most brilliant smile from Kise, his figure illuminated by the sunshine hitting the back of his head at the perfect angle.

“(y/n)-cchi,” he teases with a small pout. “Didn’t I tell you to close your eyes?”

Who needs a rose-tinted lens when the sight before you is already so radiant to behold?

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mathgirl · 4 years

Text

Animal Crossing and Graph Theory

I hope everyone has been enjoying Animal Crossing: New Horizons as much as I have! I’ve been playing ever since the Gamecube days, but only now has the series really given us the freedom to plan every last detail of our towns. The focus is now on taking an island wilderness and turning it into a functional town. So, let me talk about my experience planning my own beautiful island of Coraland:

In short, the map is a big mess. Take a look at all the rivers and cliff edges. The island is broken up into lots of small pieces only accessible using a vaulting pole or a ladder. It’s really inconvenient!

I’d really like to make this place more accessible by foot, so I’m going to need to install some bridges and ramps. But those projects are expensive, and each one may take a few days to come to fruition. As a city planner, I’m faced with a question: What’s the most convenient way I can connect up all these pieces of land? Can I minimize the number of projects I’ll have to pay for?

To answer these questions, first we’re going to mess around with this map a little to make the problem easier to visualize. Then we’re going to turn to an area of math that deals with these types of problems: graph theory.

The first thing I decided to do was highlight all the areas on the map that are separated by rivers or cliffs, as shown below.

The colors don’t mean anything, they were just chosen to make each area distinct (although I did have the four color theorem in mind as I chose them). When we lay it out like this, we can clearly see that we have nine areas on our map that need to be connected up.

To help us visualize our problem further, we can mark each area with a dot, and then draw lines between the ones that could potentially be connected with a bridge or ramp. It doesn’t really matter where these connections occur, just whether or not any two landmasses can be connected (ignore the bridges and other works-in-progress I’ve already placed).

Now we’ve created something that looks like a mathematical “graph”.

What is a graph?

In graph theory, you can basically say that a graph is a mathematical object made of vertices (the dots) connected by edges (the lines). Graphs are very useful visualization tools; you can allow the vertices and edges to represent whatever you want!

In the graph we drew over our island map, each vertex represents a separate area of land, and each edge represents where two of those areas meet, and a bridge or ramp could be built between them. (As a bonus, this same kind of graph is used to prove the four color theorem linked earlier, which also involves bordering areas on maps.)

The problem we originally set out to solve is this:

Connect every area of the map using the minimum number of bridges and ramps.

Using our graph theory terminology, we could rephrase the problem like this:

Connect every vertex using the minimum number of edges.

In essence, we have to go back to our map and find a way to connect every dot with the smallest number of lines possible.

Confession time: I don’t have any formal experience with graph theory, so I can’t name an algorithm off the top of my head which will solve this problem for us. But I do happen to remember a concept that may help: we can try looking for a Hamiltonian path.

A Hamiltonian path is a path through the edges of a graph that touches every single vertex. In the picture above, the red line shows a way you could jump from vertex to vertex to visit each one in the graph. This one happens to be a loop, or a Hamiltonian cycle, but that’s not necessary for our problem: our path between the areas of our map doesn’t need to end at the same place it starts (and it’s actually impossible with our graph! Can you figure out why?).

A Hamiltonian path seems like a promising idea, because it accomplishes the main point of our problem: we want every map area to be accessible. So let’s go back to our map and highlight some of these crossings we could make to create a Hamiltonian path:

Our path starts and ends on the highest cliff levels of our island, since each of those can only connect to one other area. Follow along the path and confirm that we’ve visited every vertex. If we build bridges and ramps for each of the highlighted blue edges, each area will be connected and accessible by foot just like we wanted! But is it the most efficient way? Can we do it with fewer crossings?

If you imagine picking up this blue path and stretching it out straight like a spaghetti noodle (the shape isn’t important, after all), you might see why this is the fewest number of crossings we can get. In order to connect nine points together, you need a minimum of 8 lines. Try as you may, there’s no simpler way to do it.

Problem solved?

We’ve done what we set out to do: we found a way to connect every area of our map with the fewest possible number of crossings. But I’m not totally satisfied with the result.

Take a look at the map with our blue highlighted path. Let’s say I wanted to get from the airport at the south end of the island, to the highest red cliff area on the north end. I would need to follow the blue path and make four crossings to get there. But looking at the black lines, it’s pretty obvious I could get there in only three crossings, if I build one of my ramps in a more convenient place.

We didn’t consider this in our original problem, but ideally we would like our walking paths around the island to take us where we want to go as quickly as possible. Imagine walking along that blue path from one high cliff to the other. What a hike! I think we can do better than that.

The Hamiltonian path isn’t working, but there’s no reason our island infrastructure has to follow a continuous path like that-- we can put bridges and ramps wherever we want. Let’s try another shape: something like a tree.

To put it simply, a tree is just another kind of graph that “branches” outwards. You can choose a root for your tree, which would be a vertex where every other vertex on your tree branches out from. In the picture above, you can imagine the topmost vertex is the root, and each vertex below it will either split off into two edges, or simply come to a stop.

For the purposes of our town, we might want to set the root to be the most traveled part of our map: say, the large southern portion where the airport and the resident services building are located. From there, we can send out “branches” that reach every other part of the map in the quickest way possible:

(I’ve added letters to identify each vertex-- we’re going to need them in a moment.)

Starting from the root, you can count the number of crossings it will take to reach every other map area, and confirm that it’s the shortest possible route. In graph theory, the number of edges in a path is called the length of that path. Furthermore, the distance between two vertices is the shortest possible path connecting them. Looking at the graph we’ve outlined in green, a path from A to E has a length of 3, and looking at our original black graph, that indeed seems to be the shortest possible route between vertices A and E. Success?

I’d say this is the best we can do using the minimum number of crossings. From the busiest area, we can reach everywhere else in the shortest possible path. But look at our green highlighted graph and again consider the distance from E to J. It takes six crossings to get between those places. It’s better than our first answer, but maybe we can do better.

Here’s the layout I ultimately decided on for my island. It’s identical to the green tree graph, but with one extra crossing:

Because I’ve decided on one extra crossing, the distance between E and J has been cut in half, and the distance between many other points has been shortened as well. In fact, using this design, you can take any two points on the graph and note that the distance between them is no greater than four. That’s not bad at all, and even though it’s not strictly the cheapest design, I think this convenience will ultimately pay off.

All this planning might go out the window once I unlock the ability to move rivers and cliff edges, but I think it’s a good start for now. What do you all think? If anybody else tries planning out their island like this, I would love to see the results!

(Graph diagrams are courtesy of Wikipedia. Further reading: Graph theory - Wikipedia)

#math #graph #graph theory #animal crossing #acnh

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years

Text

Let’s Face the Music & Dance

Part One: There May be Trouble Ahead

A/N: Alright. Here. We. Go. Got your dancin’ shoes? John is makin’ moves. (Quote in bold taken from Much Ado About Nothing)

*read the intro here*

Warning: um... narrowly avoided vehicular manslaughter?

Word Count: 3,492

The air rushed past his face chilling the skin of his cheeks beneath the leather trimmed goggles that he wore as he sped down the open country roads. His carefully slicked back hair had blown free only a few kilometers into the trip, loose strands trailing down and back over his ears. I can’t believe that… He tightened his grasp on the handles, pushing the limit on the speed as he pushed the thought from his mind. The truth was that he could believe, he did believe that his mother thought so little of him. She’d made it quite clear where she placed blame and where she placed expectations. And the former far outweighs the latter, so… He sniffed, his nose red from the cold air and from the way Veronica’s cold comments stung at his eyes. So this is how it has to be.

He hadn’t planned to make the trip down to Oxford all in one go, nor had he planned to leave home that day. But I couldn’t stay, not after… Trees blurred into countryside, rolling hills and pastures full of sheep flying by as John left everything he knew behind him in hopes that he could make something new of himself; something successful and worthy of rehabilitating the Whittaker name. Worthy of showing everyone that they were wrong about me. He tucked away as much of the hurt that his mother’s words and decisions had caused him as he could, stuffing it into the emptiness that the dissolution of his marriage had left him feeling. It won’t do any good to dwell...to continue to...to wallow.

After Larita and his father absconded from the estate in a flurry of shattered statuary and broken hearts, John hadn’t come down from his room for nearly a week. He’d quickly realized that while he did love her, and he was sure that she had loved him- at least while we were together in Monaco- the two were about as unlikely to last as ice cream on an August afternoon. There were too many differences, too many areas of their lives that were complete and utter mismatches. But still, the fact that he’d taken her hand and taken the leap only to end up on the ground alone was… lonely, I felt...I felt alone. He’d thought that being married, having a wife, being her husband, would mean that he’d never have to feel that way, and certainly not so soon after taking that leap did he expect to crash. It wasn’t that he missed Larita. It was that he felt as though he had failed himself by grabbing the wrong hand.

But shortly after he’d realized that it wasn’t her absence that was causing the ache in his chest but the connotations of that absence, John started to come back to himself. His mother, it seemed, had already gotten past the pain of her own crash, likely before she’d even hit the ground, and he was hurt all over again by the fact that he was alone in feeling alone. The truth, as he’d learned, was that not only had Veronica made peace with the fact that her marriage hadn’t been what it once was for a very long time, she’d also made peace with selling even more of their property to a banker named Harold Roberts, and marrying Hilda off to his son Walter. It was an attempt to keep what little they had left, but it was an attempt that excluded John completely. While Marion seemed content to be overlooked, believing, as Veronica had always said, that marriage would never be the route that she went down, John on the other hand, felt as though the rug had been pulled from beneath him.

It was no use fighting with his mother once she made her calculating mind up, though, and so he chose to go on with his plan regardless of the other that was hatching. Phillip Hurst, in his own attempt to try to make something meaningful of his life, had decided to attend Oxford University, and John had decided to join him. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d study, or where it might take him, but he knew that it was a much better plan than waiting around to make another dangerous leap. He spent the rest of the trip from Nottinghamshire ruminating on what courses he might take, on what knowledge he might gain. Phillip had chosen to study Literature, which to John made sense, as his friend had always had a flair for the dramatics, but sitting still and reading for hours on end was not something that John could see for himself. Still, Phillip had been supportive of John’s choice to enroll in University, quoting Shakespeare in a telegram that John supposed was meant to be comforting. “Everyone can master grief but he that has it… so leave it behind and join me!”

Four hours since leaving the home he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to call his again, John Whittaker arrived in Oxford, England. He pushed the goggles up onto his forehead to get a better view of the city and of the buildings that constituted the University. Feeling better, if only for the moment, he took a deep breath and allowed himself to feel hope for the first time since he watched his wife and father exit his life. This is… I’m really…

But before he could fully enjoy the feeling or the moment, a young woman was shouting as she leapt out of the way of his bike. Taking his eyes off the road to appreciate his new situation had caused him to veer slightly off course, sending him careening towards the walkways. Oh! Quickly turning the handles, he narrowly avoided crashing into the woman, though he hadn’t avoided the bush right beside her, ending up halfway into the greenery before he could stop. Right. Well. I’m here.

“Would you watch where you are going? You nearly knocked me over there with your carelessness! Who even…” You’d dropped your books when you’d had to jump from his path, your skirt twisting around and your top askew.

What? I...Oh, I… “I’m sorry, I’m so…” He pulled the motorbike out of the bush and bent down to pick up one of your dropped texts, handing it back to you as a page fluttered out onto the ground. “Are you alri-” You snatched it back from him with one hand, the other pulling at your clothing to fix it back into place.

“No, I am not alright! As I said, sir-”

“It’s John, actually, John Whittaker, and I’m very-”

“As I said, John, you nearly knocked me over with your,” you gestured at his motorbike with the book, “your ridiculous cycle here, and I-”

“But you aren’t hurt, are you?” He asked as he stepped towards you, the sincerity in his eyes clearer than the embarrassment. He looked you over quickly scanning your elbows, your face, the small amount of skin that was visible beneath the hem of your skirt. She’s not bleeding, I don’t see any-

You blew out a breath in a huff and shook your head. “No, I’m not hurt, but you should… You need to be more cautious.”

Nodding profusely, he agreed. “You’re right, I should be more careful, it was foolish of me not to pay more attention.” You seemed to be expecting him to disagree and were caught off guard by the lack of fight he put up, your sharp eyes softening the smallest amount. “Can I… do you need any help or… can I walk you to wherever it is you were going?” The soft look vanished as one eyebrow shot up, but before you could open your mouth to protest his forwardness, he continued. “I don’t mean to be forward, I only want to make sure that you’re truly not hurt. It seems the least that I can do after, well after,” he tilted his head towards the motorbike, a broken branch of leaves sticking in the spokes of the front wheel. “After I almost ran you down, Miss..?”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you tried to decide what his intentions might be. I only want to make sure that I don’t leave my mark on your life like I do everywhere I go. Blowing out another breath through your nose as you fixed your sleeve, you told him your name, which he repeated in his mind immediately, not ignoring the fact that he liked the way it sounded. No, don’t start that now, that’s not why you’re here. “Um… no, I, er…” you nodded curtly. “I’m alright, John, and I need to be going now or I’ll be late to my study group. Just...just be more careful, and keep your tires on the road, will you?” With that, you turned and kept walking down the path you’d been on before he’d disrupted your day.

“Excellent first impression on Oxford, Whittaker!” Phillip’s voice called from across the street, and John turned to see his friend ambling towards him with a laugh lifting his cheeks and lighting his face. “If you’re done running down students, why don’t you pull that heap of rubbish out of that bush and follow me, I’ll show you to the dormitories.

.. .. .. .. .. .. ..

A few days after moving into the dormitory hall, John decided to use the last remaining days before formal instruction began to familiarize himself with his new surroundings, striding out into the early autumn sunshine and strolling the paths. Not two minutes into his walk, he found you, walking the same path he’d run his vehicle up onto the day before. What are the odds? Wanting to ensure that you were still alright after what had happened, he crossed the road, waving one arm as he called your name.

You turned, an unsure look on your face as your name hit your ear that vanished the second you saw him, replaced with a slightly exasperated expression. “Oh, it’s you, the motorbike man.”

The motorbike man? He shook his head. Not important. “H-how are you? Are you still...are you alright?” He blinked as he looked you over, suddenly aware of the way that you were looking at him. Oh, she’s…

“Yes, I’m alright.” You raised one hand towards the road. “No one has tried to run me down yet today, and since you’re here and your cycle is not, I presume that I’m safe. For now.” You nodded. “Now, If you’ll excuse me, I do have an appointment with my advisor and so-”

Oh! She’s a student? She- “So you… you study here then? You’re a student?” John’s eyes flicked from your face to the imposing structure that you were walking towards, its chimneys looming above the brick building.

“Well aren’t you brilliant?” Your teasing answer came from the corner of your lips as you continued to walk along as though John wasn’t trying to have a conversation with you.

Brilliant? That’s the last- “Brilliant? Oh, no, I think that-”

“No?” Turning to face him, you brushed your hair back behind your ear, and John couldn’t help but notice the way that the skin at the corner of your eye scrunched as you looked over at him. “You aren’t brilliant then?”

Not if you ask- “Well, not if you ask-”

Cutting him off, you adjusted the small stack of books that you were carrying. “I’m asking you, Jack, is it?”

“It’s,” he gestured to himself. “It’s John, actually.”

“Yes,” you winked at him. “That’s right. John. John Whittaker.” Yes, that’s me, she remem- “John Whittaker, the man who nearly knocked me off my feet with his motorbike just the other day.” You’d stopped walking, pausing at the corner to wait for a baker’s delivery truck to trundle slowly through the intersection.

The smell of still warm, freshly baked loaves wafted through the air, reminding John that it had been nearly a full day since he’d eaten anything. His empty stomach rumbled loudly to confirm that, par for the course, nothing since he’d left home the previous day had gone as he had hoped it might. The echo of his mother’s words tumbled in his ear, but he shook his head to empty it, returning his attention to you. “That was...well it was…” The truck passed through the intersection, turning a corner, and you promptly began crossing the road. He stepped off of the curb, crossing just behind you. A cool breeze swept some leaves about your feet and ruffled the hem of your skirt, adding to the clipped click of your heels on the hard road. The image of you sprawled across the street, books strewn about and your elbows scraped flashed quickly through his mind, but he blinked it away. That’s not what happened, only what could have happened. A small frown pulled his lips downward as he thought about the trouble he’d almost caused with his carelessness. Catching up to you, he stepped onto the sidewalk at the same instant that you did, speaking your name with such earnest apology in his tone that you actually faced him with a hint of sympathy in your eyes. “I’m sorry. What happened yesterday was boorish of me and, well, well I only wanted to say that I’m glad that you weren’t hurt. And if there’s anything that-”

“John.” You pressed your rouged lips together before letting them slide into a slight smile. It wasn’t a joyous expression, or one of surprised excitement, but it changed the light in your eyes, softened the hard outer shell that he suspected was necessary as a female student at Oxford. He wasn’t prepared, though, for the way that it felt to hear you speak his name and know that after it had left your lips, they curved into that small smile. A small breath escaped his lungs, and suddenly he felt much warmer than the autumn temperature should allow. “I was only teasing you. I know you didn’t mean to barrel through that crosswalk on that...thing of yours.” A short burst of air from your nose served as an amused little laugh and you shook your head, John watching as your lips curved upwards a little more. “You have nothing to apologize for.” You held up one finger, shifting your books in your arms. “Yet.” The smile turned smirkish as you turned and continued walking.

Instantly, the phantom guilt from what almost happened dissipated, and where he first felt uncertainty about where he stood with you, he was invigorated with new hope. For what? I’m not… I didn’t come all this way just to… It was even hard to think it, but he forced himself to, if for no other reason than that he deserved to give himself a fair chance at this endeavor, and not allow himself to fall quickly into something that would derail that chance. I didn’t come all this way just to replace Lari. Having passed, the thought that seemed difficult proved itself to be unnecessary as he realized that even though he’d not known you more than a collective twenty minutes, you were nothing like his ex-wife. “Well, I hope to continue that streak of having no need for apologies then.”

“Is that so?” He nodded. “To what end?”

“To what..? To what end? Well, to the end of…” Think, Whittaker, and fast. “Well perhaps to the end of studying together some time.” It sounded like a suggestion or a line and he knew it thought it truly wasn’t, but luckily your temporary suspension of teasing remained in place.

“You want to study with me, John?” You raised an eyebrow as you began walking again.

“Well, yes. I mean, that is to say, if you don’t-”

“Do you even have any idea what courses I am here to study?” The smirk still hadn’t left your face and he was beginning to forget the way your tight frown looked in favor of this more relaxed demeanor. “Do you even have any idea of what courses you’re here to study?”

“Well, of course I know what I’m here to study,” he answered quickly without actually answering. He confidently imagined you seated at a piano, and could almost hear the comments you would make on The Mona Lisa. Yes, Arts & Music, I’m almost certain. “And if I were to guess, I’d say that you are enrolled in the-”

“Philosophy, actually,” you tossed your correction of his assumption over your shoulder, where it bounced with your curls and hit him smack in the face. His eyes grew even wider, mouth dropping open as yours scrunched to the side in a failed attempt to contain your burst of laughter. “Not at all what you were expecting, I presume.”

John quickly shook his head, closing his gaping mouth and hurrying toward the sign post, grabbing onto it and swinging himself around so that he was next to you once more. “Not, not what I was expecting.” He pushed the loose strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face back over the crown of his head. “It's only that,” letting go of the sign post, he stuck both hands in his pockets and focused on keeping stride with you down the sidewalk. Since I can’t seem to keep stride with the conversation.

You turned, raising one eyebrow and tilting your chin. “It’s only that?” Pausing long enough to make him sweat but not long enough to let him answer, you continued. “It’s only that women don’t-” What? No, I… “It’s only that we should only be allowed to study certain-“

Once again, John scrambled ahead of you, his head shaking furiously from side to side. “No.” He gestured with his hands, crossing them in front of his body before sweeping them out to his sides, and while you had let out an exasperated breath, your eyes rolling as you did, he was glad to see the hint of a smile pulling at your lips again. That’s a relief. Come now, don’t mess it all up, John. “It’s only that Philosophy… well it sounds so,” Your smile turned slightly more amused as it climbed up into your cheeks as you started walking again. John followed closely at your heels. “Well It’s only that Philosophy sounds so dull.” He could tell that it was the wrong thing to say, yet nonetheless there the words hung in the crisp air.

But before he could worry that he’d offended you yet again, you laughed, the sound light and clear. “Dull?” You asked, “tell me, sir,” it’s John, you know my name is J- “What is dull about learning how to think intelligently about the world in which we live?”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. “I only meant-“ that you aren’t dull...you aren’t dull at all and-

“You only meant that-“

“I only meant,” John stepped around in front of you again, standing directly in your path. “That you don’t seem to be the type of person who likes to be told how to think.”

You regarded him for a few seconds longer than you had yet to, and he could feel your eyes weighing his. “That is the first correct assumption that you’ve made about me so far, John Whittaker, and it is precisely why I choose to study the classics, the great thinkers.” John cocked his head to the side, brow wrinkling questioningly, not quite following your reasoning. “I want to know how others have looked at the world, so that I can look and form my own opinions. I want to…” You blew out a breath, shaking your head and finally breaking eye contact to stare at the buckle of your shoe as you scuffed the sole across the cobbled walkway.

“You want to...what?” He dipped his chin to find your eyes again, bringing them back up with his own.

“I,” But the rest of your sentence was drowned out by the tolling of enormous bells, announcing the hour. You gave a startled gasp, eyes widening. “I have to go, John or I’ll be late to meet with my advisor.” Chewing your lip, you hesitated before spinning away from him. “If you…” If I? You inhaled quickly and finished the rest with that breath. “If you’d really like to study together, meet me in the library tomorrow at two o’clock.” John felt his whole face lift as he nodded. “And John?” You started walking backwards, still looking at him but heading towards the building that he presumed your meeting was in.

“Yes?”

“Don’t be late.” With that, you shook your head and laughed quietly, turning and picking up your pace, steps widening and quickening almost into a run. He stood on the cobbled pathway, students and other pedestrians milling about that he hadn’t noticed before, and watched as you disappeared through the brick archway. I won’t be.

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist for this story, and as always, THANK YOU for reading!

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @malionnes @gollyderek @suchatinyinfinity @fific7 @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @commanderlola @thesumofmychoices

#let's face the music & dance #john whittaker #john whittaker easy virtue #easy virtue fic #john whittaker x reader #john whittaker x you #there may be trouble ahead #(there will be.)#john takes on oxford #look out world #no really LOOK OUT #here he comes #much ado about nothing

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

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Tequilla and Autumn Sunsets (Favored Ones, Part 9.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Part Summary: So far, everything seemed to be good - you were happy with the thing Joel and you had, Jackson was keeping you busy and you were even talking to your friends again... Until one patrol came and everything seemed to change, making the cycle start once again.

A/N: And I oop-

Warnings: Mentions of smut, violence, murder and guns.

Word count: 4.2 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @peakymarvels @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

The fall of 2037, 5-4 months before the incident:

In the end, it wasn't as hard to make things work as you thought it would be. When you weren't in the mood, you just found a while to tell him. When he wanted you to come to stay the night, he told you. It wasn't even that hard or weird - sometimes, he just stopped by your shop to tell you, sometimes you just told him while having a casual talk when you met in town, and no-one was suspicious of you two talking. You did that before you were weird with each other - why shouldn't you do that when things were ok?

Joel showed you and taught you many things you didn't know about sex or yourself before - for example, what a doggy style means. Or that you can take cock much deeper in your throat that you initially thought.

Yeah, sure it was a long process and it was the try-and-see kinda thing, but Joel was the best person you could choose for this matter. Sometimes, when you weren't exactly feeling like fucking, you stayed up late, just drawing the curtains in his room while he learned you some more guitar songs. Or he was willing to sit through a movie with you - he especially liked these dumb 80s' ones, but you couldn't deny they're quite amusing to watch. The things were just like you were used to them - you joked around a lot, you laughed and had some good fun.

You didn't see each other every day. These sessions, which was a code name you came up with, were quite physically challenging at times. So when you or Joel had some stuff to deal with or you simply weren't in the mood, you didn't meet up for that day and once even for a week.

Diego somehow couldn't understand your sudden shift in behavior - before Joel asked you to see him again, you were affectionate with the boy, spending as much time as you could with him. But after that? He barely saw you. And it wasn't just him - even Dina and Ellie noticed that you're not spending as much time with them as you used to. But both of the ladies just dismissed as you being having too much stuff at the moment. Which was also true.

Tommy and Maria kept each of you properly busy. Sure, there were regular patrols and these where you had to take a random kiss from the group with you, but as the winter was coming by, there was more stuff to do - helping with harvesting the veggies, taking care of animals, occasionally even helping out with the pottery or sewing new clothes. It was almost November when you decided to visit Eve again, bringing her the last blossoming flowers you could find.

"Hey there." - You whispered, sitting down on your jacket while you looked at the tombstone. - "How you've been, hm?" - You asked, smoothing the leaves and other stuff out of the grave. When you were alone for almost a minute, you knew it's your time to speak up again. - "Geez, you can't shut up sometimes, huh? Let me talk too, man." - You laughed nervously. It was still strange not having her around to make fun of her, but you hoped that she's better now. Also, you could talk about Joel openly, and that wouldn't be possible if she would have an actual chance to respond.

"I am seeing this one guy. You would be weirded out, but its Joel fucking Miller. Weird, right? I can't quite process it myself if I have to be honest with you." - You giggled, leaning your cheek into your knee as you watched her name craved into the gray stone. - "But he's treating me nice, with respect. When I don't like something, all I have to do is tell him, you know? I trust him, I would say. He asks about how I'm doing even though he doesn't have to." - You smiled and looked at the grass.

You should've seen that there's something off about the whole thing way before you saw it. It was hard to determine what made you feel things such as these - if it were the nicknames he was giving you, or the stares he was watching you with or the warm approach to the whole situation. It happened a long time - you falling for the man. You just didn't know at the moment - your head was too distracted with too much of good fucking.

"When we were just laying there one night, he asked me about you and listened to every single shit I told him. It was nice. And I hadn't even cried during it, which is a big win, right?" - You sighed with a shy smile, hearing the first thunder in the distance. Well, at least you didn't have to go for a patrol that day. Or, so you thought until you saw Maria slowly walking to the grave with her palms behind her back. She waved at you and you waved back, not telling a word until she reached you.

"Hey." - She whispered, sitting down next to you as well. You smiled back, still looking at the tombstone. - "You weren't at home or Ellie's, so I figured out you'll be here."

"Did something happen?" - You asked back, being visibly alarmed at the moment. Maria shook her head quickly to assure that no matter the situation she had for you, it wasn't as bad as it sounded.

"It's just... Can I ask you something? I know you've been patrolling almost every day last week..." - She sighed. The matter was embarrassing. You were out of Jackson for almost every day now, each day taking a different route, yet she had to come and ask you. - "But Tommy had caught some cold or what and he's having a fever. And since he's in pair with Joel, he asked me to ask you if you'd be so kind and take this one. He told me 'ask that kiddo, 'cause she's probably the only one who ain't havin' tendencies to murder my brother while he sleeps'. Like... He told me he's good to go, but... And don't want to ask Ellie and you know Tommy." - Yeah, of fucking course you knew Tommy. He was probably even more hot-headed and mulish than his older brother at times. And the bit about murdering Joel? That wasn't too hard to believe either since he had the reputation of basically bullying down everyone when Ellie was about to leave Jackson. It was quite unbelievable, but these Miller boys were quite hard to get along with at moments.

You were fucking tired, to be honest, but you wouldn't Tommy go if he was ill. That would worry the shit out of Maria and you didn't like her when she was scared or worried. She was even more bossy, rude, and straightforward than normal. So you nodded.

"Of course, I won't let his sick ass to go on a patrol. Especially in this weather." - You looked at the iron clouds above you. The blonde woman sighed with relief, smoothing your palm with her while she closed her eyes.

"You're the best. I'll make Seth prepare you some extra tasty snack on your way, okay?" - She asked, getting up to leave again. You stayed there for a little longer, looking at Eve.

"Stop laughing up there, I can hear it down here. That's just my luck, you know?" - Just as always, you kissed the tips of your fingers, smoothing the cold stone. - "Take care. I'll see you again, okay?" - With that, you put the jacket on your shoulders, leaving to get your backpack. As usual, put the empty automatic gun there, a water bottle and in the end, you swung your bow and quiver of your shoulder. When you saw the damn weather, you packed another sweatshirt with you. A storm was about to start soon - which you could hear at the stables as well. The horses were far from calm, but Sadie got better once you smoother her neck and gave her an apple. Joel came there soon after you, having these small devils in his eyes. But to tell him nothing ain't happening on the patrol, you shook your head and as usual, the man calmed down immediately. It was nice to have someone who listened to you.

"Have the food and ammunition, I hope we'll get it done before it starts to rain." - Joel told you when you were leading your horses away in the direction of the gate.

"I doubt it. This route is pretty long and off-hand. But who knows?" - You smiled gently and sat on the horse's back. The patrol was fine - you were talking through the most of it, trying to fill the void on the road. You were barely three hours away from Jackson when you noticed it. There was a fire in the woods - but not a wild one. You let the horses on remnants of an asphalt road between a few houses, walking the rest on foot.

Joel saw them first, pulling them down to hide in the tall grass. You observed them for a moment, trying to make out if they were friendly or not. That was decided at the moment when you have seen a few dead bodies lying just a few meters away from them - that was the fire. The sweet smell was making you sick, but Joel put his hand on your shoulder, making you focus.

"I'll go in and try to take them out silently. Do you remember your way with the bow?" - He asked you. For a moment, you were just looking him in the face - these people killed other people. Which you'd be able to understand under some situations... But they were burning their bodies now. Which made your stomach turn upside down. - "Hey, no panic now, focus here. Right here." - The man whispered, catching your jaw in his palm. - "Do you remember it? I need you right now."

Finally, you nodded to answer the question. After that, Joel loaded his revolver for all the cases, giving you a magazine as well. He turned at you one last time before he finally sneaked off to take an upper hand on the situation. - "Good girl. Just stay with me until we done, 'kay?"

You nodded, this time to support and hype yourself up. Joel put his trust in you. You could do it. You trained for this - and you couldn't let Joel alone in this at all. Slowly, you moved into a good potion, hitting one of your palms with a rock. The pressure almost made your head pop since you thought they'll know about you, they didn't even notice - yet another thought crossed your mind. Distraction. Joel needed a distraction. So you picked the rock up and threw it off to a distance. It caused some noise that made the men turn around. There was four of them as it turned out when they started to inspect the situation around.

After a while, you saw Joel pinning one of them down, dragging him to the grass as he choked him. Your time to do something. A long breath left your breath as you positioned yourself, looking at one of the guys. What the fuck were you doing? This wasn't right. Maybe you and Joel could talk it out with them? Bullshit, they had a fireplace from a pile of dead bodies. They were a threat to you, Joel, and potentially to Jackson. You had to do it. It took you a long time to aim because you were shaking like crazy, but in the end, your arrow didn't miss its target - it ended up in his the guys head, and watched him as he fell straight to the fire along with other bodies. He was dead at the moment you did it. You were a fucking murderer. You killed a non-infected.

Sure, you were realizing you've just killed someone for the first time, but the adrenaline rush inside you, and the fear for Joel, was way stronger than that. Also, these bitches could notice where did that arrow come from, so it was a matter of time before they'd find you. And you were so terrified you couldn't move. For a second, you closed your eyes and prayed to God to be merciful and let them kill you fast without any fuckery around. Just when one of the guys was about to approach you, Joel caught the other remaining one, circling his forearm around the man's neck. - "Stop where you are and hands in the air." - Your old man ordered calmly, throwing the guy's gun on the ground, putting his revolver to his temple. When the other guy didn't listen and still aimed at Joel, Joel defused the gun.

"I ain't playin', son. Throw the gun on the ground right fuckin' now." - In horror, you listened to two shots being fired. With a cry, you jumped on the guy's back, stabbing his throat with your arrow again and again. You couldn't stop yourself - even when you were both already on the ground and his head was cut off of his body, you continued. You just continued with stabbing him as you cried. He shot Joel. You were too afraid to look if your man was alright, so you just sat on that guy's chest, finally giving in to the urge to cry. You were terrified of yourself.

You practically collapsed on the dead body, having a full-blown panic attack. At that moment, you felt someone's arm circling your chest, pulling you off. You tried to stab them as well, but firm hold on your palm made you realize it's Joel. A shaky breath left you as you gave in into the touch, having the man rock you from side to side.

"You're good, girl. You're good. You're good." - He whispered and hugged you even tighter. At that moment, a rumble of thunder shook the ground, and rain started to fall heavily. But you couldn't even move. All you were capable of was to climb deeper into Joel's arms while you cried. - "Lemme get you outta here girl, come on." - The man hummed into your hair, lifting you off of the ground.

Never, not even when you left the Fireflies, have you killed someone. At least not someone healthy. What the fuck have you done? What did you do? In the middle of Joel making your way to the houses, you jumped off and ran to puke the fuck out into the grass. You felt fucking sick. This was something so disgusting. You've just taken another person's life. One of your palms was leaning into a wall of one of the houses as you stood there, cried and puked. It didn't matter that you're soaking wet already - the rain couldn't wipe away what you've done, the blood was soaked into your clothes and even if you managed to get the blood off of your palms, it was still there, hot and sticky between your fucking fingers. Joel understood what you were doing through - he was the same when it was his first time.

But he knew that he has to get you out of the rain before it will be too late, you could catch tome flu or something like that. And he also knew that worse demons will find a way into your head once you'll think you've solved the matter for good.

"I need you to get inside the house. Can you do that for me?" - He came to you and smoothed your back gently. It took you a moment to nod. - "I'll brin' the horses in and come to you, 'kay? Just wait for me there."

You both did as you agreed on. Your way to the houses was rough - the ground around you was shaking and spinning, your knees felt almost too weak. Joel led the horses inside the garage and found you collapsed on the ground in front of the doorstep when he entered the front door. You were snuggled into a tight position, rocking yourself from side to side. You were pressing your head between your knees to find some relief, but none was coming.

Quickly, he prepared you a place to lay on, took the jacket off his shoulders before coming back to you. Just like the first time, you've almost attacked him before realizing who he was.

"Come with me, girl." - He mumbled quietly, helping you in your feet. Before he shifted his attention to you, he made sure that the doors and windows are closed - you were even so lucky to find a place with a fireplace, so at least, he started a fire. First, he took the clothes covered in blood off of you, putting your wet sweatshirt on your upper body. It was better than nothing. Then, he laid you down on the big couch, lying next to you so he copied your body with his before he covered you both with the wet sleeping bag.

You were shivering. And a feeling of being cold was taking over your body. Yet your brain kept on replaying you what you've just done. - "Attagirl." - The man mumbled, nuzzling his face to the nape of your neck before he kissed it. - "You're with me now. These guys won't hurt you."

With that, you turned to him, putting your palm over his side. Your faces were just inches from each other, so he could feel the rhythm of your warm breath gently breezing over his face. - "Am I a terrible person? I mean, what if he had a family? Kids? What if we misread the situation?" - With that, Joel could tell that you're shaken to your core.

It was more than understandable. If you'd be living in the old world, you'd never have to think about killing someone. That thought would probably never cross your mind if the world wasn't completely fucked up. And until that day, you never had a reason to kill a human being. Infected? Sure, he saw you killing infected. But to know it were normal, thinking, breathing living persons, that was a serious lot.

"I would talk to 'em if they weren't burnin' other bodies. These people weren't good ones, 'kay? You've done it for me." - There wasn't much more to say. In any way, no matter how hard would Joel try, he couldn't tell you anything to make you feel at least a bit better. With closed you nodded, finally closing your eyes.

"Will you sing something for me? Just like you did back then?" - You whispered, giving in to the feeling of Joel's palm smoothing your shoulder. Of course, he did sing for you. And this time, it wasn't some Johnny Cash song. You remembered this one - it was one of the songs he played for you when you sat at the bonfire.

To be honest, you fell asleep pretty quick - you were tired, every inch of your muscles hurt and the pain in your eyes was too great to open them. The man stayed up for another hour, watching small spasms and furrows changing in your face. The sleep sure as hell wasn't peaceful. Yet when he was sure that you'll sleep for at least a while, he took a quick nap next to you as well.

The smell of the burning wood had woken you up. It wasn't exactly the burning wood, but the smoke of the fire ending was tickling your nose so bad you had to sneeze. Fortunately, it didn't wake Joel up. When you opened up your eyes, you expected to see his face just inched away from yours, so you gently picked up your head, feeling the muscles on your neck and back hurt. It took you a few more winks to realize that you have a clear view of the fireplace. Joel was laying on his back with one of his palms used as a pillow, his other arm pulled over your shoulder.

Sure, it was pretty normal to sleep next to each other at that point, sometimes having his arm or leg thrown over your body, but you had never slept anywhere near to something like that... All snuggled up to each other. There was a contained smile on Joel's lips, even though he was asleep. And if you'd be okay, it would make you lose your shit for real.

But you just laid down again, watching the dying fire. It was just like being stuck in some kind of a cycle - there was a time you felt numb, not alive at all. This came after something happened - when you ran away from Salt Lake City or when you watched Harry getting eaten alive, the day Maria came to your home to tell that Eve didn't make it... And that evening as well. When you got over the bad phase, there was something you could call being lifeless. It were the days when all you could do was to lay down in your bed, look into the ceiling, thinking about your life. And when you'd get through this, you'll slowly get better as the time would pass. Just to wait before another thing comes and brings you down, repeating the cycle over and over again.

Joel was most likely right. He was living in this world for a lot longer than you were - he knew a lot of things you had no idea about. For example, the forearm which was holding you close and warm could suffocate someone. He also was very really haunting when he was holding one the gen as a hostage. How could the man who was calling you girl in the warmest tone of voice, the one who was playing guitar for you and the man who was fucking you like there was no tomorrow - how could he kill someone with such calmness?

The men certainly weren't good. They could be hunters - people you've never encountered, you've only learned about them from Joel and Eve, sometimes Ellie told you her stories about this kind of people. That would explain why they were burning naked bodies of people... But... What if they caught some sort of illness? What if the people were their friends and they had to kill them? Why didn't you try to talk with them? Maybe you didn't have to go in as hotheaded as you did.

At that moment, there were two people inside your head having a big argument - one of them thought about the thing you have done was straightaway bad, no excuses could explain what you did. ON the other hand, there was the other one, the cold one, was telling you that these people would fire a bullet to your forehead as soon as they'd see you approaching.

With a long sigh, you closed your eyes once again as you hugged Joel tighter, pulling yourself so tight you copied every inch of his body. This was helping at least a tiny bit. For the first time when the cycle had restarted, you didn't feel completely alone. There was someone you could pull yourself closer to feel at least a bit safe.

"How you feelin'?" - A raspy voice asked you just as Joel had woken up. Even when you were both up, he hadn't taken his arm off of your shoulder - actually, his palm started to draw small patterns there. Joel still kept his eyes closed and it could be seen that he's feeling completely contained at the moment. Which seemed weirdly off rails, but you decided to ignore it.

"I feel... Nothing." - You answered quietly, slowly getting up. This felt too emotional. Sure, it was probably just to keep you feeling at least a bit good and away from going coo-coo. And it worked just as he expected it to.

"Give it a few days, it'll settle down. You'll be good, trust me." - Joel mumbled and watched you getting food from Seth out of your backpack before sitting down to look at the dying fire. - "What made you conclude this?" - You asked and gulped.

"You're a survivor. Just like Ellie is, just like Jesse is... And just like I am." - He answered shortly, letting the silence to take over the situation you got there at the moment. Just like the last time you were on a patrol with Joel, everyone could tell that something went off rails as soon as they saw you in the distance. You were both late, and your trousers were covered in dried blood.

Ellie was patiently waiting for you in front of the stables to ask you about what has happened when Joel pulled you back a bit, looking you in the face. - "Do you want me to come today?" - He whispered. It was a nice offer, but you shook your head nonetheless. - "I'll see you... When I'll feel better, okay?" - You whispered back, having him nod with a neutral expression, and with that, you watched him leaving for home, not entirely sure what to feel anymore.

#the last of us #the last of us part two #the last of us imagine #the last of us part 2 #jesse the last of us #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x y/n #joel miller the last of us #tommy miller #tommy the last of us #maria miller #maria miller the last of us #dina the last of us

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doing-all-write · 4 years

Text

don’t be a baby pt. 3

Pairing: Billy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader discovers that Billy isn’t actually dead. Which changes everything. But also, nothing at all.

Read part 1 HERE

Read part 2 HERE

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: SMUT (only 18+ interact PLZ), swearing, blood, explosions, fighting and some SOFT FEELINGS FOLKS OH BOY.

A/N: SURPRISE! Here’s part 3 of don’t be a baby! I hope you all love this ending, I’m so happy with how it ended so please enjoy!

💖💖As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 💖💖

“You bastard.”

The growl that came crawling out of her throat came from the basest, most animalistic part of her. Billy felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"You fucking prick." Finally wrenching her hand from his, she reached up, ripping his hood off, fully bringing Billy’s feature into the light.

Her jaw went slack, her complexion ghost white as Billy stood there. Knowing there was nothing he could say or do to make this situation better or less confusing.

"You-you-no. No. This is impossible. There was a coffin. We had a funeral. Billy. I mourned you. I am still mourning you. What the fuck-"

"One found me on the ground after that last mission. He offered me this chance and-"

She hadn't even been aware she’d been moving away from him until her back hit the wall and her legs gave out completely.

Sliding to the floor, she pulled her knees into her chest, bringing her head down to take deep gulps of air as Billy stood over her Clenching and unclenching his hands, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around her but not knowing if that would make things better or worse,

"I couldn't not take it love-(Y/N)" catching himself before he called her the old pet name, "It was the best option for me. I got a fresh start. I get to help people. It's steady work and I get to do what I love. Plus, you deserve someone better than me, it was only a matter of time before you realized it anyway..." His voice trailed off as she went stock still.

Watching the monitors, the rest of the team jockeyed around One for position as he relayed what was being said in the room like a sports commentator, "Ooo, he just went for the 'you deserve better than me so I faked my own death' route! That one never works folks. Trust me, I've tried." Five rolled her eyes as Seven snickered.

"DAMN!" Three exclaimed as the rest of the team broke out in screams as (Y/N) launched herself at Billy, fists flying and teeth bared.

He didn't think she wanted him? He hadn't even asked her what she wanted, they had never even talked about it but only because his selfish ass had gone and written the ending of their story before it had even had a chance to start. The shock drained away, to be replaced by anger. It rose through her blood stream, lighting her body up, until it reached her eyes. She knew that the look in her eyes was feral, bordering on unhinged so it brought her some small joy to see his face blanche at the sight as her (Y/E/C) eyes met his blue ones.

"You no good, lying, piece of shit, COWARD." She had tried her best to keep her voice calm but the last word scraped past her vocal cords in a roar as she launched her body at him.

The rational part of her brain knew she wasn’t thinking straight but the other part of her brain that had been wallowing in depression, hopelessness, anger and loss for 365 days was ready to fight.

"You promised. You said you would come back to me and you didn't. But you've been alive this whole goddamn time and now you're in front of me telling me that you didn't think I would want you? And instead of talking to me, you pretend to kill yourself?" Each word was punctuated by a well placed kick, punch or slap on Billy's person.

“I thought ghosting was bad but this takes it to a whole new LEVEL.” she shrieked as she aimed a left hook to Billy’s kidney.

Those boxing lessons paid off, she briefly thought to herself.

There was a part of Billy that had prepared himself for this kind of reaction. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself from her. He knew this was the least he deserved and honestly, he was glad she was even touching him at all.

Continuing her onslaught on Billy, she hoped she left bruises. A physical representation of the bruising he had caused on her heart over the past year. Growling, she kept up a running commentary of what exactly Billy was since he had left her behind.

Billy kept his eyes trained forward, as her fists kept up a steady rhythm on his body. Shoulders straight, hands loose at his sides, waiting for some kind of sign that she was slowing down. He risked a glance down and saw her cheeks glistening with tears.

His heart broke into a million pieces. He felt his throat tighten as the tears that he had tried to hold back, welled up in his own eyes.

She knew distantly that the wetness she felt wasn't sweat. She just prayed that Billy didn't notice them. She didn't want him to think she was weak. As that thought crossed her brain, she realized her punches were getting softer and softer. The rapid pattern she had been striking Billy with had slowed considerably.

"You son of a bitch. You promised." The last word came out in a ragged wisp as she felt the adrenaline leave her body and despondency begin to take its place.

"Don't you love me?" Billy's arms reached for her instinctually at those four words. Pulling her frame into his broad chest, he felt her crumble against him as her sobs echoed throughout the room.

"Shh, love, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know, rest now. I'm so sorry, my love." He whispered, letting his head drop down so his lips grazed her ear as he repeated his apology over and over again. She felt herself getting irritated with her own body when it gave an impulsive shudder at the nearness of him.

Distantly, she realized that the months of chasing the spark she had with Billy with other men had been pointless. There was no way to recreate it because Billy was the spark. There was no way to recreate what they had because there was no one else like Billy and she didn’t want anyone but Billy.

Feeling the cold concrete of the ground seeping through her leggings, she registered that she must have sunk to the ground as Billy kept his arms around her, both of them huddled on the floor as she sobbed and half heartedly struck Billy’s chest with a weak fist, whispering a few choice phrases such as "fuck you" or "bastard".

The last thing she remembered was Billy whispering the words ``I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again as he rocked her back and forth as she felt herself drift into unconsciousness.

~~~

It was the first sleep she'd had where she didn't dream.

Eyelids fluttering open, she blinked the drowsiness away, forgetting about where she was and why she was on a cot with the desert sun piercing through the linen curtains over the window next to her.

Then it all came slamming back to her with such force that it pulled the air from her lungs. Crushing her knees into her chest she rolled into a ball, breathing into the cave she’d created for herself. Listening to her breath cycle through her body helped to ground her into the fucked up reality she’d woken up in.

After a few minutes, she lifted her head and took a deep breath in. Exhaling, she swung her legs over the edge of the cot and walked toward a door that she assumed was a bathroom.

Seeing that the door had been cracked open she hesitated, not wanting to barge in if someone was already in there. Leaning forward she tried to see who it was.

Her breath was ripped from her lungs for a second time as her eyes were met with the broad expanse of Billy's back. He was twisting in the mirror, trying to rub gel onto the bruise that was blooming on his side from her fists.

Guilt blossomed in her gut as she thought about how she had hurt him, then figured it was the least she could do to him considering he had caused her more pain and suffering than any one person should feel in their lifetime.

A whine interrupted her thought process as Billy pressed too hard on the bruise that had flowered by his rib cage. The guilt came crawling back and she gently knocked on the door, pushing it open.

"Do, uh, do you need help?" Feeling shy suddenly, she trained her eyes on Billy's feet which shuffled back and forth, as if trying to decide if he wanted to be closer to her or afraid she would hit him again.

“Yeah-yes. I need your help.” He cleared his throat, “I need you.”

Studiously avoiding eye contact, she reached for the gel he had been trying to apply. She took it from his hands and rubbed some onto her palms. Feeling his gaze burning into her, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

The scent of eucalyptus filled the air as she pressed her palms onto his skin. He couldn't fight the hiss that leaked out from between his teeth.

Her lips quirked up as she whispered, "Don't be a baby."

Their eyes met and he couldn't help what happened next, he kissed her.

Rising up to meet the harsh push of Billy's lips against her, lust roared to life in the pit of her stomach. Grasping Billy's biceps she leaped into the air, wrapping her legs around his waist. Billy's arms flew up to wrap around her as they both pressed their lips into each other, moaning as she clawed at his back. He deposited her on the sink counter as he reached a leg out to kick the bathroom door shut, praying that no one tried to open the door because fuck. He wasn't going to stop kissing her just to lock a damn door.

She pulled back, ripping a wimper from Billy. Smirking, she nipped at his bottom lip, then ran her tongue delicately over the red spot that was blooming there. Moaning, he thrusted his hips forward, trying to find something to help relieve the pressure building in his cock. Her moans mixed with his as she pressed her own hips forward.

Billy's hands gripped her waist as he stepped in between her legs, pumping his hips forward, meeting her needy thrusts with his own. Gasping at the feeling of Billy's length rubbing against her, Billy let out a groan as he wound a hand into her hair, pulling it to expose the line of her throat as he nipped down it, humming with each whine she let out.

Running her hands down his arms, she moved his hands to grasp at her tits, pushing them into his hands to drive home where she wanted him to touch her most. Chuckling, he ran his thumbs over her breasts, brushing the pad of his thumb over the peak her nipples made through her tank top.

Keening she reached forward, grasping the edge of his joggers, pulling him forward as she nudged them down, grasping his cock at the base, stroking it.

Billy growled at the action, grasping the waistband of her leggings, he wiggled them down her thighs till they pooled around her ankles. Kissing her deeply, he brushed the head of his cock against her folds, moaning when he felt the wetness gathering on the head.

Reaching down, he grasped her thighs, pulling them apart so he could finally, finally, dip his cock into the folds of her cunt. Throwing her head back she let out a stream of curses, Billy biting his lip as he rolled his hips forward, both of them falling into a familiar rhythm as she dug her nails into Billy's shoulders.

Fingertips sinking into the flesh around her hips, Billy growled into her mouth, causing her to clench the walls of her cunt around his cock. Whimpering, she moved her hand down to rub at her clit. Billy batted her hand out of the way, “Let me.” he whispered before pressing his mouth more desperately against hers, as he began drawing circles over the sensitive nub.

Moaning into his mouth, she felt her walls clenching even tighter as she rocked her hips sloppily against his own, knowing she was close.

Feeling her grip around his cock, Billy knew she was close and he thanked the gods she was because he was positive he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. Pumping faster, he dug his hands so hard into her hips she knew there would be bruises there.

Not that she minded.

Feeling the fire gnawing its way through her, she clung to Billy desperately as he gave a few last rocks, pressing against her clit in the most delicious way, she gave into the pleasure sweeping over her.

Her walls clamped around him, giving him the final nudge he needed to spill into her. Both of them groaned as the last few waves of pleasure swept over them. Her head came down to rest on Billy's shoulder. His hands still clamped on her hips, both of them breathing each other's scents as their fury wound down.

The silence was interrupted by the crackle of the intercom,

"Kinda pissed I wasn't the first one to get into those Nike leggings."

"Fuck off." came their simultaneous response. Locking eyes, they both broke into smiles as Billy gingerly pulled himself from her. Helping her down from the counter, he cleaned them both up, helping her step out of her leggings but leaving her underwear on. As he pulled his own joggers up, he gently pushed her into the room she had just left. Stumbling back into the room, she felt exhaustion wash over her again.

Collapsing once more into the bed, the last thing she remembered before dropping back into sleep was Billy padding into the room and her hand reaching out for him. Grasping for it so she could be sure he wouldn’t leave before she woke up.

~~~

Billy became suddenly aware there was a weight on his chest.

Stirring, he felt the mass curl into him further. Sniffing, he caught a whiff of the shampoo (Y/N) always used and knowing it was her curled into him was almost enough to have him break down into sobs.

Bringing a hesitant hand to her waves, he gently stroked them as her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

Aware of the hand stroking her hair, she did her best to keep still so he wouldn't stop. She knew that when she woke they would need to have a serious conversation about...all of it. About Billy being alive. Them being on the same team. Would she be able to trust him again? There was a lot to discuss but right now she wanted to lay on his chest and pretend that it was the day after their first day together, the future ahead of them bright and unencumbered.

Feeling her arm start to fall asleep, she figured it was time to wake up and face Billy.

Feeling her stir, Billy's hand stilled on her waves, moving down to land on her hip as she shifted so she could shoot a sleepy smile up at him, "Morning" she croaked out and Billy thought he had never seen something so adorable in his entire life.

Smiling, he replied, "Morning," then frowned, "or afternoon. I have no bloody idea what time or day it is to be quite honest with you."

Letting out a wheezy laugh she brought her head back down to his chest as he wrapped an arm around her, bringing her closer to him, feeling more grounded already with her next to him.

He knew they should talk about what his being alive meant for them and for the future, but he wanted to be selfish and hold onto these few peaceful moments. He’d realized how greedy he was when it came to spending time with (Y/N) but he couldn't help it. Every second, every minute, he wasn't next to her felt like a moment wasted.

Sighing, she turned her face up to him, "I guess we should talk about...well...the fact that you're not dead." Bringing his other hand up to rub down his face, Billy let out a sigh, "Yeah, I s'pose we should."

"Don't sound too excited."

"You gonna hit me again?"

"You going to keep having that tone with me?"

Cowing immediately Billy ran his hand over her back, "No, 'course not (Y/N). Sorry."

Sniffing she nodded to show she'd acknowledged his apology. Her next question came out on a sigh, "Why, Billy?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you do this?"

It was Billy's turn to heave a sigh as he chose his next words with care. He wanted, needed, her to understand why he did what he did. He needed her to understand it wasn’t because he didn’t love, it was because he loved her too much.

"Because...well...One's offer was too good to pass up. Truly. I could do all my Sky Walker stuff but also be able to help people. It was my chance to make a difference in the world, to do some massive good on a global scale."

Sniffing back tears, she nodded mutely as she absentmindedly drew circles over his torso. "I understand that Billy, but...why did you have to break your promise?"

The sharp intake of breath from Billy caused her to raise her head, shock flooding her veins as she saw tears start to leak out of the corner of his eyes. Raising her thumb up, she swiped them away.

"I didn't want to, (Y/N). But...I had to. One explained to me how dangerous this job was, is, and how people will do awful things to anyone connected to you. I...I couldn't bear the thought of you being caught in the crosshairs or having something happen to you because of me."

"Okay but, why didn't you talk to me about it? You just assumed I would be okay with it? That I would tell you One was right? That I wouldn't fight for you? For us? C'mon Billy. Give me a little credit."

"Yeah, because you took so well to my original job."

Her body stilled as she realized he was right. Not that she was happy about it. Sighing she tilted her head up to look into his eyes, "You're right. But that was before. This is...now. I'm different. I've changed."

Billy's eyes roamed over her face, memorizing every detail of it. He took stock of her eyes, how the light was boarded up tight, like they were the first few times he’d talked to her. When she smiled or laughed, he saw a flash of it peek through only for her to quickly shove it back down.

As she studied his own face, she desperately wanted to let her guard down. It would be so easy to slip into how it should have been but there was something that was holding her back. She couldn’t figure out what it was until it hit her like a freight train.

What if Billy really died?

Now that she knew his death had been a ruse and he was still alive, this time, if he did die in this life...there really was no coming back from that. Her heart tore in half at the thought.

"Love..." he hesitated to see how she would react to the pet name. When she didn't hit him or tell him not to use it, he continued, "Love, listen. This is totally your choice. If you think we can do this, then, I'm all in. This will be our new life together. But if there's even a shred of an issue, then you get to walk out that door. And you'll never hear from me again." His heart leaped when she wrapped her arm around his chest more securely at that admission.

"I don't want that. But...Billy...what happens...if...if...you die. Again. For real." Her voice was shaky as she nestled her face into Billy's side, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears threatening to overwhelm her.

Billy's breath left his lungs in a harsh whoosh as the full impact of that idea made his heart skip a beat. He hadn't even considered the possibility. Mainly because if he did, he would never do half the shit he did.

"I wish I had a good answer love but, I don't." Hearing her sniffle he turned on his side, cupping her chin in his hand as he tilted her face up so she would look at him and know how desperately he meant the next few words,

"I just, I have a feeling in my gut that I won't die though. The only reason I made it through half of these missions is because of the people around me and...you." Her eyes widened at this admission,

"Yes, love. You. The very idea of you when I was off doing things that James Bond could only dream of," she snorted as Billy grasped one of her hands in his own, "is what made me more convinced than ever that I needed to get back to you in one piece. And if you join the team? Love, you will be the only thing that's going through my head when we're on a job together. The promise of being able to come home to you at the end of the day, to have you patch me up, to give me endless shit. I wouldn't want to miss any more of it than I already have. So please, believe me when I tell you, if you join this team? I will never, ever leave you again. I promise, (Y/N)."

Raising her eyes to meet his blue ones, she felt her heart squeeze when she saw the tears streaming freely down his face. He had laid his heart bare for her and the love she felt for him in that moment made her glow with a warmth she hadn’t felt, well, since the last time they had been in a bed together. But part of her was still hesitant. She wanted to believe him but she couldn’t go through what she had already been through again.

Billy knew that she was doing her best to figure out if he truly meant it. Sensing her hesitation, he placed the hand he had been gripping over his heart, "Do you feel that?” She nodded, feeling grounded as his heart beat beneath her palm, “Every beat is for you. For you and you alone, love. You bring me into the light and make me feel as if I deserve to be there. Please, (Y/N), do what you think is right but just know, that I want you, and only you, for the rest of my life."

Crying freely, she nodded frantically as she curled herself into Billy's chest. Stroking her back, he let her cry as much as she needed to. After a while, she pulled back, mumbling an apology for getting snot on his shirt as he laughed. Lifting her head up she realized she was right in line with Billy's lips. They were so perfect, reaching a hesitant finger out, she traced them. Feeling her heart beat harder when Billy’s breath hitched at the movement.

Lowering her finger, she snuggled closer to Billy as she reached her lips up to press them against his own softly, tentatively, like she was asking a question more than providing an answer.

Billy sighed as he brought a hand up to cup her face. Stroking the planes, he made sure to remember exactly how her lips felt as he wiped the last of her tears from her face.

Deepening the kiss, she moaned softly into his mouth as he traced a line from her cheek, down her neck, down her side until his hand landed on her hip. Giving her a gentle nudge, she swung her leg over and straddled Billy as he adjusted himself underneath her. He looked up at her and was sure he had never seen a more beautiful sight. Clad in her black tank top and panties, no makeup, hair falling in her face, Billy's heart ached at the notion of being able to wake up to this sight every day of his life.

Resting her hands gently on the broad expanse of his chest, she gave a small thrust forward, testing to see how hard he was. Gasping when she felt his full length twitch, he cocked an eyebrow at her, "You okay there, love?"

"Shut it." She mumbled as she leaned down to capture his lips with hers.

"Make me" was his response as he kissed her back tenderly. Their movements were languid, the passion and tension that had gripped them last night burnt away only to leave the love, adoration and relief they both felt to be reunited with each other. Gently rubbing herself over his cock, he reached a hand down to nudge his pants out of the way.

When his cock sprang free, she reached a hand down into her panties, running two fingers over her own slick, lifting her hand up to lick the juices off her fingers as Billy stared at her, slack-jawed.

Giggling, she moved her underwear to the side as she shifted her hips, positioning herself over his length then slowly lowering herself until he was fully sheathed inside of her.

She gasped as his hands came up to caress the bruises he had left on her hips. His touches were feather light as she let herself adjust to the girth of Billy's cock. Both of them were making a conscious effort to not rush this time. They wanted to relish the feel of each others bodies.

They both treated their bodies as dispensable when they were on a job, but with each other they gave into the feeling of being admired, of being adored, of being touched delicately and being delicate in return.

As (Y/N) let herself enjoy how full she felt with Billy inside of her, Billy rubbed his thumbs over her hips, urging his own hips to stay still. He didn't want to rush this. He didn't want to rush her. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make sure that she felt comfortable, that she could feel how much he loved and cared about her through his actions.

In the same vein, (Y/N) wanted to treat Billy with softness. To show that she trusted him, that she wanted to be with him always and would trust him with her life. That he deserved to be cherished. Slowly, she started rocking her hips back and forth, finding a soothing rhythm as her fingers fluttered down to rest on Billy's stomach.

Billy's hands caressed her thighs, brushing slow patterns, the roughness of his palms on her skin causing goosebumps to rise up as she started pumping her hips a little faster. Below her, Billy was making the most obscene noises she'd ever heard. Moans, whines and gasps, the whole time desperately searching for eye contact so he could watch her reaction to every movement of his body underneath hers.

Leaning down to kiss him, he grasped her shoulders and flipped them so he was on top of her, using his forearms to prop himself up, staring down at her, he smiled, "You're the most beautiful woman in the world." Blushing furiously, she rolled her eyes so she wouldn't have to make eye contact knowing that if she did, her heart would explode with how much love she had for him.

Leaning his head down, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, inhaling the smell of her skin, the sweetness of her perfume, the slight tang of salt and something that was so unmistakably (Y/N). Pressing his lips into the curve where her neck sloped down to meet her shoulder, he heard her sigh and continued to nudge his hips forward.

When her moans grew louder, he let out a small growl that made her clench around his length. Thrusting her hips up, she whined needily in the back of her throat. Smirking, Billy started pumping his hips faster into her. Feeling the pit in her stomach grow hotter, she ran her fingers over his head, feeling the pricks of his stubble rub against her palms. As he pulled back to stare into her eyes, she brushed the errant strands that had fallen in front of his eyes. She wanted to drown in their blueness.

Continuing to thrust into her, Billy felt his orgasm building as he kept eye contact with her. Everything was quiet except for their breath. The sighs, the hitches, all of it was much hotter to Billy than any dirty talk could be.

Feeling her heart beat start to speed up, she knew she was getting close. Biting her lip, she peered at Billy through her eyelashes, "Billy...I'm going to cum."

Leaning down, she could feel the smile that was playing on his lips as he whispered in her ear, "Then cum for me, my love." With those words, the pit in her stomach expanded and swallowed her whole. Squeezing her eyes shut, she came with a sharp inhale and slow exhale as her hips rose up to meet Billy's as he pumped into her through her orgasm. Feeling her walls clench around him, watching her come undone below him, pushed him right over the edge. As the last vestiges of her orgasm left her, she felt Billy's hips pumping against her sloppily until with a final grunt, she felt him fill her up with his cum.

Panting, they looked into each others eyes and she giggled as he smiled at her, looking a little dazed. Carefully pulling out of her, he cleaned them up. After pulling his sweatpants back up, he laid down on the bed, pulling her to his chest.

Nuzzling her face into Billy she sighed. Feeling her body loosen and relax, Billy started to plant kisses all over the top of her head, moving down to pepper her cheeks with kisses, she giggled and squirmed away from him. Chuckling, he placed one last kiss to the tip of her nose, “C’mere love. We’ve been apart too long to have you so far away from me.”

“Billy, I’m like an inch away from you.”

“And that’s still too far.” he whined as he pulled her flush against him. Giggling, she flung her arm and leg over Billy’s form, attaching herself even closer to him, “Is this close enough?”

“Not really but, it’ll have to do.” he mumbled as his arms wound around her, hugging her tightly into him.

As they laid there, their breath evened out to match each other. And several hours later, when One was checking the surveillance cameras, that was how he found them. Entwined in each other, breathing in and out in synch, looking for all the world like pieces of a puzzle that had finally come together to create a whole picture.

~One Month Later~

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, of course I'm not. You gotta get out of here and this is the best way to do it. C'mon."

"Eight-" hearing her code name come out of Billy's mouth always made a shiver run down her spine. One time, he had growled it when they were having sex and the orgasm that’d ripped through her when it happened caused her to see God.

She had been lovely.

"Four. I believe in you." Billy pulled up short as he heard those four words crackle through his earpiece. Then,

"You two need to cut the foreplay and figure out a legitimate way of getting the fuck out of this building before it blows."

"Hey, One? Why do you need to cockblock us at every opportunity?" (Y/N) laughed.

"Shut it Eight or I'm going to let you explode in this building."

"You would miss my witty banter though. No one else can keep up with you like I can."

"Correction, no one wants to keep up with him like you do." Was Five's dry reply as she prepped the medical gear sitting in the getaway car. Shrugging, (Y/N) couldn't find fault with that statement. With a final ding, the files finished uploaded to the flash drive. Pulling it out, she gingerly stepped over the four guards that had rushed to greet her.

Slipping into the hallway and gently closing the door behind her, she rushed down the hallway, looking first right, then left to see if Billy was there. She heard a thud to her right and drew her gun as she turned to aim it at whoever was trying to sneak up on her.

"Gotta say, I'm afraid but also a little turned on."

It was Billy at the end of her barrel, holding his arms high.

Holstering her gun she rolled her eyes, "When aren't you feeling like that?"

"Good point, it's been my constant state since you joined the team."

Laughing, she grabbed his hand and started running down the hall of the home of the mobster they’d been infiltrating. He’d been a kingpin in one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in the world. But they had busted him, and it, wide open. (Y/N) had just leaked all of his documents to the FBI and to all major news sites, while downloading a copy for herself. The rest of the team had been making sure she had clear access to the computer and had been extracted awhile ago, it was just her and Billy left.

As they raced down the hallway, they felt a rumble, then,

BOOM.

An explosion rocked the building, bringing them up short, as they looked at where the staircase used to be.

"Well, fuck."

Feeling something tugging her arm, (Y/N) looked away from the inferno to Billy tugging her towards the window, "Trust me?"

"Always."

Smiling back at her, he gripped her hand tighter as they both took off for the window. As a second explosion racked the building, the glass erupted as they launched themselves through the window, body's rolled tight as they aimed for the bunting on the building across from them.

~~~

"FUCK does that hurt. Jesus Christ."

"You do this every time I have to patch you up. Why aren't you used to this? Better question, why do I still patch you up?"

"Because it's how we fell in love in the first place and you love taking care of me."

"Shut up" was her mumbled reply. Billy smiled smugly as he snuggled deeper into the chair he was seated in.

After they had landed on the bunting, rolling and thumping onto the street, they’d pushed themselves up and leaped into the getaway car as Two peeled out and away from the smoking wreckage.

They hadn't even noticed the scraps and cuts they’d acquired until the adrenaline had flowed out of their system and Five was yelling at them, telling them what fools they were and how dumb could they be.

Laughing, Billy drank in (Y/N)'s bright eyes, her mouth stretched into a smile as she hurled insults back at One and flirted shamelessly with Seven. He had slipped a hand onto her thigh with the first wink she’d aimed at Seven. Ignoring the weight of his hand on her thigh, she continued their banter. With every remark, wink or playful nudge, he moved his hand up her thigh until finally,

"Your hand is basically on her pussy can you two please get a room." Three groaned.

Two smacked him as (Y/N) blushed furiously, batting Billy's hand off her leg as Billy laughed, flicking his tongue over his lips.

Getting back to HQ, they tumbled out of the van. Voices overlapping and mixing with each other as they stumbled back to safety, everyone ready for a well deserved rest. (Y/N) was listening to Five explain the latest state of the art medical equipment they’d gotten when she felt the roughness of Billy's palm engulf her hand. Smiling, she squeezed his hand, feeling his palm press harder into her own and giving her butterflies all over again.

"That's even grosser than earlier." Seven snorted at One's comment but felt a tug in his heart at how easily they had slotted themselves back together.

They had emerged from the room they’d been in a few hours later, only to be met by whooping, pats on the back, congratulations being passed around and One loudly declaring how impressed he was with how they "banged it out."

Rolling her eyes she’d put her hands up, "Listen. Before this goes any further I just want to let you guys know what my decision is."

Billy's head had snapped up at that comment. Eyes widening he felt his stomach drop, she’d never specifically said what she had decided on. Feeling unsteady, he braced his hands on the back of a chair, sure he was going to snap it with his grip.

The air in the room became thick with anticipation. Everyone stilled to hear what her final verdict would be.

"I'm in. All in."

Her words were meant for everyone but her gaze stayed glued on Billy. The smile that broke across his face was enough to make her smile as his lips connected to hers, the rest of the room breaking into cheers and whoops and then disgusted groans as Billy deepened the kiss.

Since then, she had fit into the dynamic of the team like she’d always been a part of it. This had been their first official mission with her on board and they were all pleased with how it went. One even offered her a compliment on her competency during the debriefing.

(Alright, so it was a backhanded compliment but that was as good as it was going to get with One.)

Now, she and Billy were back at their shared airplane husk at HQ. Billy's favorite part of their place was the cross-stitch she had done that said "Husk Sweet Husk" with an airplane underneath. It warmed his heart every time he saw it.

Billy was in a chair as (Y/N) sat next to him on the same stool she had perched on the first time he arrived at her apartment. Five had taken care of the larger cuts but she still liked to patch him up whenever she could. It made her feel closer to him and it allowed them to come down from missions together.

"Would you stop squirming? I swear, you're worse than a toddler."

"I'm just trying to keep your skills sharp, love."

"You're about to meet the sharp end of my knife if you don't stop fucking moving."

"And there's that sharp tongue I fell in love with."

"Oh shut up." She smirked as a blush climbed up her cheeks, causing Billy to lean forward and pepper them with kisses as she threw cotton balls at him.

"I give up! You're impossible and on your own to patch yourself up."

"C'mon love, don't be a baby." He snickered as he grabbed her hand to pull her into his lap.

Tucking her head under his chin she pouted, "You know that always works on me, that's not fair."

"Who ever said anything in this relationship is fair?" He tickled her sides lightly until he heard a giggle leave her mouth. Smiling he pressed a kiss to her head as she snuggled deeper into his chest. Winding his arms around her, he squeezed her close. Their breaths synching up as they watched the last of the sun dip below the horizon.

Five minutes or an hour later, she wasn’t sure, she finally shifted with the intention of getting up when she heard Billy hiss.

Looking up at him with confusion, she furrowed her brows, "What?"

"You can't do that, love"

"Why not?" Shifting again she felt something poke her and let out a gasp, "Is that-?"

"It's definitely not my gun so yes. I am very happy to see you."

Laughing she unfolded herself from his arms, "Okay, sorry. I won't do that unless we're spooning and then I'll just 'accidentally' wriggle my butt around until you get hard again."

"It won't take long." The husky quality of Billy's voice caused her head to snap up. His eyes were hooded, boring into her own. The air between them thick with lust.

It had been like this ever since they’d been back together. Everything was a sexual innuendo or an excuse to touch each other. Seven thought it was because of how sexually frustrated Billy was after not getting laid for so long but they both knew it was because they needed the reminder.

Every caress, touch, kiss and sigh against each other's skin was a reminder that this was real, they were with each other. Every time Billy would grab her hand under the table during a meeting a jolt of electricity shot through her.

And every time (Y/N) brushed up against Billy or laid a hand on his back to move past him, his cheeks would flush, remembering that she was close enough to touch and he could touch her any time he wanted.

Neither of them took for granted the simplest things anymore. Passing touches, kisses on the cheek, hugging, holding hands, it all signified something bigger for them. That they could reach out and touch each other whenever they could. Every morning that they woke up, entwined in each others arms was another day that was going to be good, because they had woken up where they belonged.

(Y/N) broke their gaze first, cheeks burning as she shuffled back and forth, "Umm, Mark texted me by the way. He, Mary and Jean are going to FaceTime with us later so we better not get too heated."

"Why does your brother cockblock me at every possible time?"

"Because I'm his sister, it's practically his job."

It’d been tricky to navigate the after-math of the discovery of Billy's demise. She knew that no one knew if she was dead or alive but after negotiating with One, she talked him into taking Mark and Jean onto the team. Which hit another snag when they found out that Mark and Mary had started dating.

One had thrown his hands up when this knowledge came to his attention and cursed the day he brought this, "cluster fuck of a circus" into his group. Begrudgingly he had allowed Billy's mom, sister, Mark and Jean to come to HQ. As soon as they stepped foot in the plane, he had put the fear of God into them about this job, the dangers and how it was of mortal importance they keep their "fucking mouths shut." At which point, he had gone to the door, flung it open and walked out, "Oh and by the way, here's the problem that started this whole mess." he called over his shoulder as Billy walked into the room, sheepishly holding his hand up in a meek wave.

(Y/N) had let him have that moment alone. She figured that would muddy the waters and besides, everyone in there already knew she was alive and okay. They deserved to have time with just Billy. To process, to understand. It had killed her to wait for them to emerge from the room but it had been worth it when she saw Billy and his mother emerge from the room, their eyes red rimmed from crying, arms around each other.

Mark and Jean worked remotely most of the time. One would call them in for missions occasionally but they stuck to ground work and passed information off to One when need be.

Mary and Billy's mom kept quiet, still letting everyone believe that Billy was dead but buoyed by the fact that they could FaceTime him whenever they wanted. (Y/N) also knew that One sent updates to Billy's mom whenever he could and paid for her to come out to visit Billy at HQ when they were between missions. It warmed her heart and made his snarky comments easier to put up with.

Sighing, Billy hauled himself out of the chair, ambling towards the bathroom, "Well, come on then, better make the shower sex quick." He clamped his hands down around her waist as he nudged them towards the bathroom as her laugh rang out, bouncing over the sand dunes.

~~~

"FUCK. BILLY!"

With a final moan, Billy came inside (Y/N), both of them breathing heavily as they came down from their highs. After cleaning up, Billy collapsed into the bed, unfortunately landing right on top of her.

"OOF. Billy, c'mon." Shoving weakly at his form she knew it was a lost cause as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

"S'comfortable. You should just try to be less comfortable to lay on top of."

"How would that even work?"

"Get rid of your boobs."

Gasping, her hands flew up to her chest, "You know these are the money makers!"

"Of course I know that, love. Seven and Three know it as well."

Smacking his shoulder they both chuckled. As their breathing steadied, Billy rolled off her, bringing her into his chest where they snuggled deeper into the blanket they shared. Just as their eyes were closing,

BANG BANG BANG

"C'mon you two. Quit fucking for two seconds, One has a new mission for us."

Groaning, she buried her face into Billy's chest, "Tell One he can go fuck himself."

"You can yourself, darling. In about two seconds."

Dragging her body from the warm nest they had made, she stepped into the first pair of sweatpants she found on the ground, "Remind me again why I agreed to do this stupid job?"

Feeling Billy's hands on her shoulders, she twisted around only to be met with a deep lingering kiss from him, "Because I love you. And I can't do this life, or any life, without you being right next to me."

Pressing her forehead against his she smiled, inhaling deeply, "I love you."

"I love you, too. Also I'm so going to beat you to the control room."

Wha-?" her sentence was cut off as Billy raced from their husk, sprinting across the sand as best he could. An indignant snort left her as she took off after him, their laughter bouncing over the sand. Billy glanced back at her and didn’t know which was brighter, the full moon hanging above them or the warmth that radiated from (Y/N)’s laughing eyes as she raced to follow him to the ends of the world. Reaching a hand out, she grabbed his own as he tugged her forward into their next adventure.

~~~

Tag List: @itsabenthing @vroboat @mrhoemazzello @gwendolyns-stacy @alliwantfromyouistomakelovetome @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @jonesyaddiction @xtrashmammalstefx @radiob-l-a-hblah @fairestkillerqueenofall @acciodallas @peter-sue-the-management

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peppersonironi · 4 years

Text

Batfam Whumptober Day Three

{Read on Ao3}

No.3: Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

Summary: Ra’s’ is in town and Bruce Babs Damian from going out on patrol with him. So of course Damian goes out with Duke instead. But when he gives his brother the slip, Damian finds himself in the deadly hands of his Grandfather. It takes Duke to save him.

A/N: I love Duke, okay? And I love Duke and Damian’s relationship! I want to dive into it more, as I’m not 100% happy with this, but I think it works for now. But not am I writing soft whump! Is this whump? Who knows.

Tw: brief mention of blood, attempted murder (very light)

“I demand to be allowed out.” Damian announced, staring at Duke with the full force of his Baby Bat Glare™ (Jason’s words).

Duke frowned down at him. “Um, sure? But why?”

Damian sniffed. “As if I would tell you.” A moment later, he changed his mind. “But I suppose you are the most tolerable besides Grayson. Very well. My grandfather is in Gotham and Father refuses to allow me to patrol at night. I refuse to allow petty family squabbles get in the way of my Robin duties. He said nothing about the day.”

Duke blinked, looking down at the tiny assassin. “Doesn’t he mean patrol in general? Isn’t going out at all unsafe?”

Damian continued his glaring. “That is besides the point.”

Duke gave Damian a long look. “Why are you asking me? What makes you think I’ll go against Bruce. I’m the ‘good kid’ , remember?”

Damian snorted. “We both know that is not factual, Thomas. You enjoy going behind Father’s back just as much as the rest of us.”

Duke frowned. “Just … don’t get hurt, okay? We’ll go out for a few hours; nothing major. And you Stick. With. Me.”

Damian smirked. “Very well. When do we leave?”

*****

Oh, Damian had been so stupid. All he’d wanted was to prove to Father that he was still capable. That he wasn’t afraid of his Grandfather anymore. It didn’t matter that he was, and any bravado was faked. But he was proud. He thought his fears weren’t constituted.

He’d been wrong.

His first mistake was separating from Signal. Damian had given him the slip around the ninety minute mark (it was altogether too easy. He’d have to work with his brother on those skills. If he lived long enough, that is.) and continued on his regular patrol route.

It was then that the ninjas attacked him.

It was an ambush, he was in an alley taking care of an attempted robbery when the sky was blocked out by the dozens of black clothed figures descending from above. He’d managed to fend off a good third of them when he was overpowered and dragged to his grandfather. He’d managed to escape once, but had gotten a broken leg in reward.

So when he was shoved before his grandfather, bruised and bloody, Damian was scared. Grayson had promised he’d never be sent back to the league, and his mother wouldn’t take him back, so what did Ra’s want?

“Hello, grandson.” Ra’s said, looking at Damian like he was an animal in a zoo. “It’s been too long.”

Damian glared and spit at his once-family. He was dismayed to find his spittle bloody. Maybe he was hurt worse than he thought?

Ra’s sighed, “I’m disappointed? Is that all you have?”

Damian narrowed his eyes to slits. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Really? Not even after you and the young detective broke into and destroyed a prominent League Base?” Ra’s demanded, snapping forward with his words.

Damian winced inwardly. He and Tim had gotten embrowled in a League plot a month back, which ended in explosions. It had actually been a good time, and Damian had enjoyed spending it with his brother. Now, however, he was regretting it.

Ra’s looked towards an assassin, and Damian was suddenly and harshly forced to his knees. He resisted the intense urge to scream out in pain - his left leg was broken after all - but held his tongue. Barely.

“I have allowed you to live even after you scorned the Al Ghul name, and left behind your legacy. You were nothing more than a minor pest in the corner of my vision. Now, however,” Ra’s paused, and drew a long ornate Katanna. He brought it down to Damian’s neck, one flick, and Robin died once again. “I will enjoy killing you.”

Damian blinked. No, no this couldn’t happen. He couldn’t die again. He couldn’t do that to his family. It had broken them. And Damian didn’t want to leave them. Grayson was a given, Damian had to admit he was the brother he was closest to. But also father. They had mended their relationship - with much cajoling from Pennyworth and Grayson. Damian had grown to appreciate Todd, who was wild and made Damian middleastern treats when he was homesick. Cain, who knew what he had gone through more than anyone, and offered quiet companionship unlike the others. Drake, who despite Damian’s initial hatred, he had grown to adore. Perhaps more than Grayson. Brown, who had made it her mission to give Damian a childhood, one ice cream parlor or arcade at a time. Then Thomas, who was new, but had grown on Damian rather quickly. Who genuinely enjoyed spending time with him, and invited Robin on daytime patrols a few times a month.

Like this time.

Oh, what would Father say to Thomas? Damian hoped he wouldn’t be blamed for the death of yet another Robin. It was Damian’s own fault this had happened.

“No last words, grandson?” Ra’s asked, looking down at Damian a sneer on his face.

Damian closed his eyes.

Ra’s sighed. “I expected more. A gloating response, perhaps some begging. Why no moans for your family. Surely since they’ve abandoned you, that would garner some response?”

“How’s this?”

Suddenly, the glass of the sky-light shattered, and in dropped The Signal. Duke Thomas stood quickly from his kneeling positions, and brought out his escrima sticks.

“Hey, kid,” Duke said, “Need some help?”

Domain let out a choked laugh and nodded, falling back to avoid his grandfather’s blade.

Ra’s growled in outrage, as the assassins he sent forward were taken down by Duke. He dodged attacks before they came, let out his own on unsuspecting league members.

Damian shuffled backwards, trying to wiggle out of his restraints, watching as Ra’s himself came forward to attack. Damian grimaced at how quickly the tides turned. Only Duke’s meta ability kept him alive; he was barely able to dodge the attacks.

“Blind him!” Damian called out, realising another upper hand that Duke might possess.

His brother grimaced before calling the shadows forth and setting them on Ra’s Al Ghul. The Demon’s Head had trained for blind fighting, but the sudden loss of light shocked him enough for Duke to sweep his legs and shove the old man out of the room and onto the balcony of the expensive penthouse the league owned. Ra’s tumbled a little farther than anticipated, rolling over and off the balcony, his fall stopped only by a skilled hand grabbing the ledge.

Duke ignored Ra’s’ possible doom, and raced for Damian. “Let’s go, Robin,” he said, extending a hand.

Damian took it gratefully. “Thank you Signal, though I may have trouble walking.”

Duke scanned him for injuries. “Broken leg?” Damian nodded, and Duke sighed. “Well, let’s get you back to the cave.” They made their way quickly across the room, and onto another balcony. “Hold on,” Duke said, shooting his grappling gun, and jumping off.

*****

They had gotten the Signal-cycle (Damian detested the name, but didn’t have room to complain, at the moment) and made their way back to the cave, Duke insisting on ending patrol early. Bruce had been waiting for them, his arms crossed.

“Damian,” he said with a frown, “I thought I told you no patrol.”

Duke got off, and grabbed Damian, supporting his weight and bringing him to the cave.

Bruce’s eyes widened. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Ra’s.” Duke supplied, and Bruce followed the pair to the med bay.

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked, taking Damian from Duke and putting him down on the med bay’s bed.

Damian scowled. “It was Grandfather. Nothing special.”

Duke snorted. “He was going to kill you, Damian. I’m pretty sure that counts as ‘special’ ”

Bruce narrowed his eyes briefly before sighing. “I’ll go get Alfred,” he said, “but Damian?” Damian looked over at his father. “Try not to get yourself killed while I’m gone?”

He left quickly, and Duke turned back to Damian. “He’s going to bench you.”

“I know.”

“That was a pretty reckless move.”

“I know.”

“I told you not to leave.”

“I know.”

Duke sighed. “When you’re all checked out, let’s go watch a movie. And go to bed early. Care to try out a regular sleeping schedule?”

Damian frowned. “What kind of movie?”

Duke smiled. “Finding Nemo?”

Damian considered. “That is acceptable.” Duke grinned at him, and Damian lay down. He considered speaking for a moment, finally deciding it would be cowardly not to. “Thank … Duke. For saving me.”

Duke smiled at the sound of his first name, and Damian had to admit that felt good. “Sure, Dami. Anytime.”

Tagging: @starrystories2

#whumptober2020 #no.3 #manhandling #forced to their knees #batfam #dc #Blood tw #attempted murder tw #hurt/comfort #damian wayne #duke thomas #ra's al ghul #bruce wayne #protective siblings #Kidnapping

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