#ignore this post i just need to complain about a very minor inconvenience and i don't have anyone to complain to. anyways.

[seijoh-apologist]

stupidly in like with you | miya atsumu

pairing: post-timeskip!miya atsumu x f!reader word count: 14.6k (OOPS LMFAO) genre: friends to lovers, fluff, hurt(?)/comfort, and like a few too many pages of fluffy smut -- third person pov for the most part. NSFW. synopsis: Atsumu and Y/N are good friends, maybe feelings are involved but Y/N isn’t his type. OR Y/N and Atsumu are most definitely in like with each other but for whatever reason aren’t dating.

A/N: hi so this is my first “published” hq fic but like here is this thought that I had and haven’t been able to get it out of my head. it’s mostly edited thanks to my irl friend but bare with my run on sentences and (slightly excessive) use of profanity. any feedback would be appreciated b/c I have more thoughts for other characters and I'd love to share haha. 

To say Y/N was annoyed was an understatement.

Aching feet begged for relief, the sweat-soaked shirt, though cute, had begun to cling to that one fold in her side that made her the slightest bit hyper aware of the “stress weight” she swears she's put on during the holiday season. And the music was absolute shit, shuffling between mash-ups of the Top 100 trending songs and some weird EDM-Indie music that she would pay good money to never hear again.

To put it plainly, she was not in the mood to be out of her home, much less celebrate. But she had agreed to come out, never being able to say no to Sakusa, who silently pleaded with his eyes to take on “babysitting” responsibilities of his teammates for tonight. He had paid for her dinner several times before tonight, claiming that she should save her money - “you should spend your money on getting a better mattress, so we don’t have to hear you complain about it anymore.” - the least she could do was give him a night to himself, away from the chaos that was the rest of the MSBY team.

Besides, it's not like she was asked to stalk them or anything - they were friends after all, so really it was just like she was tagging along for a night of club hopping, taking shots that she didn’t have to pay for, and simply people watching in between trips to the dancefloor. And normally, she’d be enjoying the night - it's just that of all nights to come out and celebrate, it had to be at the end of one of the most stress-inducing, aggravating weeks of her young adult life.

Checking that it was well after one in the morning, she sipped water from her straw, swivelling to face the crowd from her (stolen) seat at the bar, in hopes of catching the attention of someone in her party that could get the hint that they should probably get ready to go. What she did not expect to find, however, was Atsumu, flitting his eyes away from her figure as he leaned down to talk to a pair of girls. It could just be a friendly gesture, asking him if he was who they think he was and him responding but it sent a less than pleasant feeling in her stomach, so she swiveled back, reaching for her phone in the back pocket of her suddenly too tight pants.

“Fuck me,” she huffs out upon seeing that her phone battery has fallen to thirty percent, which would be just delightful when it would be time to call the ubers home. She could now rule out aimlessly scrolling through Twitter for the rest of the night while waiting for her friends.

“Uh.. maybe slip in a ‘please’ and I’m yours.”

Y/N’s eyes all but bugged out her head at the response that came from her left. The voice belongs to a guy, a very cute guy. The kind of cute guy that you see on Instagram explore page before it refreshes so the chances of seeing him again are nonexistent.She sputters out a delayed apology, double-time since she realized that she’s now taken a little too long to respond to him, to which he laughs and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I should be apologizing for interrupting you, it's just.... You looked a little lonely over here. Mind if I sit with you?”

“Seat’s all yours... but you’re on your own if those people from before come back to reclaim them.” She hums, sliding her phone back into her pocket and shifting her legs slightly in the direction of his seat.

“Scared of a little fight?” He hums, arching a brow before taking a swig of his beer. He has nice hands. Y/N muses to herself as she watches the stranger’s fingers flex slightly around the neck of his beer bottle. She’s always of the mind that a person’s hands say a lot about them.

“Mmm no… just too tired to defend myself, much less a random stranger.” He laughs at that, nodding his head before replying that “most pretty girls don’t openly say they can fight.”

“Oh you’re cheesy, aren’t you? Nobody straight up tells a girl they’re pretty for no real reason.”

“Actually,” Shifting his beer bottle onto the bar, he holds out his hand to her. “My name is not cheesy, it’s -”

“Y/N! There you are!”

The call of her name makes her jump slightly, before she feels the familiar warmth of a hand on her back. The same hand worms its way to her hip, fingers slipping into that soft fold just above her pants, the warmth of his next words being felt just above her ear.  “Where the hell’ve ya been? Was lookin’ all over the place for ya, Bo and Shoyo were worried ya left without us!”

“Been right here, idiot. We lost our original seats so I’d figure you’d come to the bar at some point and I could’ve waved you down.” She shifts slightly, turning her shoulder back towards the cute stranger with an apologetic look in her eye, to which he smiles and opens his mouth to respond until Atsumu cuts him off again, his hand gripping the back of her neck to make her give him her total attention.

“Right well I’m starving - let's get outta here. Kinda craving your infamous drunk noodles, or maybe a McDonald’s on the way home, yeah?”

Y/N nods slightly, turning back towards the stranger to see that he’s already slinking back into the crowd. Once she fully loses him, she shoves her elbow into the blonde’s side, telling him to “shut it” when he throws out a huff of pain.

“Thank you, ‘Tsumu… could’ve had a different ride home but nooooo.. Needed to come in here with all your glory talking about you being starving despite the fact that you can afford a personal chef.” She huffs out and slides off her stool, but he’s not listening. Instead he’s holding her by the shoulders and pushing her through the crowd, excusing the two of them as she continues to rant and rave at him. Once outside, the pair are joined with the rest of the party, who have called a few separate ubers home. “And to top it off, I know you’re not even listening right now - you never listen to me, Miya. I don’t know how your teammates put up with you… how do you put up with this shit, hmm?”

The group of teammates laugh softly and shake their heads, giving answers that “they get paid” to put up with him, and that Miya Atsumu is actually “a decent friend,” a fact that she knows is true but chooses to ignore when convenient for her. Atsumu just shakes his head with a roll of his eyes, pulling her into the direction of their uber for their journey back to his place. She greets the driver and settles into her seat, as Atsumu calls out behind him something or other to someone. The slam of the door and clicking of seatbelts is what fills the silence in the car, music softly playing from the rear speakers, as Atsumu leans his head back against the headrest.

“So I take it yer coming to stay with me for tonight?”

“Hmm.. don’t have much of a choice now, do I?” She teases to which Atsumu slightly pouts, reaching to knuckle at his eyes that suddenly feel a little too heavy. “You owe me the biggest breakfast fathomable tomorrow.”

“Why’s it that I owe you when I paid for your dinner before going out, paid for your drinks tonight, and am letting you sleep in my bed - which is infinitely better than your cheap ass - hey!” He begins his ranting, which would be cut off by a sturdy flick to the forehead and a slight “hush” before he feels her head rest up on his shoulder.

Y/N and Atsumu had been friends for a little while, when she chased him down the middle of the road, claiming to the public that he was a thief, just because he’d grabbed the wrong umbrella on the way out of the restaurant they were both eating in. He’d tried to apologize, but she traded umbrellas and walked back towards the direction of the restaurant. He had chalked it up to nothing really, just a slight mistake and minor inconvenience for the girl. At least until a certain teammate’s birthday dinner, where said stranger was- only this time sitting and chatting with Sakusa Kiyoomi as if they’d been best friends for forever (which in all fairness, Y/N and Kiyoomi had only been friends since college, where they were forced into a friendship by their roommates, who were hooking up with each other and forced the two on double dates). This second meeting was a sign to Atsumu, a sign that for whatever reason this girl was supposed to be in his life, in some capacity or another - but he did royally fuck it up a second time by trying to flirt with Y/N, who laughed and asked if his opening line was really the best he’d had, before hitting him with an opening line that still makes him flush when he thinks about it today.

The ride to Atsumu’s home isn’t long, but it's long enough for the tiredness to seep into Y/N’s bones, who barely misses the quiet way that Atsumu’s fingers have taken home at the base of her neck, massaging gently at the tenseness he feels under the pads of his fingers.

“Someone’s tired… why didn’t you stay home?” He asks as they turn onto his street, letting his fingers fall away from her as he begins to check that they have everything they need. ”’t’s a good thing yer sleeping over at mine... and no couch for you. Your neck is all kinds of tense. It's a miracle you haven’t complained ‘bout it once tonight.”

“Shh.. you’re so loud for what?” She mumbles while trying to stifle a yawn. “So if I’m not supposed to sleep on the couch then where am I supposed to sleep then, boy genius? The floor?”

“No,” Atsumu answers seriously, brow slightly wrinkled as he reaches for his keys in his pocket. “You’ll sleep with me. In my bed. ‘t’s a cooling mattress so you won’t haffta complain that yer too hot.”

“Miya, last time I slept in a bed with you, you nearly suffocated me. Dunno if I really wanna have to deal with trying to roll you onto your back again.”

“Wait a minute! To be fair, my bed was smaller then so there was less room for the both of us.” He begins, opening the door and shutting it before turning the two of them towards the entrance to his apartment building. “Second of all, it was my first time sharing a bed with someone other than ‘Samu so ya shouldn’t blame me for not having proper sleep manners.”

The first steps into Atsumu’s home consists of the pair kicking off their shoes, debating lightly on who was gonna take over the shower first. Y/N slides her feet into the slippers that are specifically her slippers in his home and slinks off towards the kitchen, as Atsumu peels off his shirt and heads towards the shower. It feels comfortable, almost like a routine, as Y/N gathers eggs and two noodle packets to make them a small meal before bed. Moments later, Atsumu is coming out of the shower, towelling off his hair before settling onto the sofa, clicking on the T.V. as Y/N comes in with the two bowls of noodles. A silent agreement is met when they finish that Atsumu would wash the dishes as Y/N showered, taking a shirt from his drawers to sleep in

She hands him a bottle of aspirin, mumbling around the toothbrush to “take two or so help me.” Moments later she joins him in bed, slipping on a pair of socks that are two sizes too big for her before settling under the plush fabric of his comforter. He shifts over closer to her after tossing his phone on the nightstand, seeking out her form in the now dim room for a small cuddle before dozing off. She willingly accepts him too, sliding her body just under his and buries her face in his skin, still warm from the too-hot shower he is prone to taking in the name of muscle relaxation. He hums slightly as their feet tangle together, silently appreciating the way Y/N so freely indulges his need to touch someone after being touch-starved for so long.

Though Y/N isn’t much like him in that sense - doesn’t have this inherent need to cling to someone before bed, or just hold hands at a store, or hands on the shoulder in a crowded room. Sometimes she will, like now with her nose buried in his neck and her hand rubbing up and down the length of his sturdy back. Normally they won’t do this, both just a little too headstrong to dig into the tightening in their chests when the hug for a moment longer than usual; but tonight Y/N is silently congratulating him on winning the game that has had him stressed for weeks. She feels his lips press softly to the top of her head, a mumble of “good night” leaving his lips as she feels his breaths even out as the moments pass.

This is where Y/N wishes she had the power to pull away - blames moments like this on giving her the slightest bit of hope that they could be more than friends.

It's not that she hadn’t thought about it - frankly she’d spent too much time thinking about it. She could do this… with him.. But every thought is put to bed when she thinks back on this one conversation months ago. Granted she didn’t have the full context of the conversation but it's enough to make her heart squeeze when she sees Atsumu flirt with someone, or shake off his hand when she’s had a particularly sensitive day.

It was just another evening where hanging out after him and the rest of the team being away for a week. They’d ordered in food and drinks had been flowing nicely as the comfortable pair had caught up - it was honestly too homey of a setting in hindsight. His phone rang, the white text of “‘Samu” flashed and Y/N took that as a cue to finally get to the restroom.

“Mhm.. made it back early today - no Y/N picked me up.” He’d been mumbling around a handful of chips, the other side of the conversation mute to Y/N’s eavesdropping.. “Oh shut up, she doesn’t mind and it's not as if we’re dating anyway. It’s.. casual and it works for us.”

And she should’ve stepped into her place next to him, cuddled up into her chest and played the role of the blissfully ignorant idiot. But no, she stayed tucked behind the restroom door, blood pumping and heart beating too loud in her ears. It would seem as though Y/N was a glutton for punishment, a minor thing when thinking about putting herself through a moment of pain for a lifetime of pleasure - but the pain that came with Miya Atsumu’s next words would set her off kilter for a while.

“Besides, she’s not really my type. It’d never work out anyway.”

She had no choice really other than to shut the door. Take some extra time in the restroom than necessary - after all she’d just hear the potential love of her life admit to his twin brother that she wasn’t his type. All she could do really was stare at herself in the stupidly bright mirror in his stupid guest bathroom of his stupidly expensive apartment.  God this is so stupid, she thinks to herself while running cold water to press against her cheeks that she feels are heated up. Before she can really tear her own heart to bits though, she hears a quick rapt on the door.

“Y/N ya’right in there? Warned y’bout putting too much hot sauce on your food.”

But that’d been two years ago. It was a little rough after that; Y/N had thrown herself into finding a life post-grad which was a great distraction from the rumors going around that Atsumu had been spotted with some model or actress or something. Besides, Y/N wasn’t really the type to harp on failed romantic interests - all she’d need to do is download whatever relevant dating app for some validation and she’d be able to move on. However nights like tonight, when he looked too good and the little moment was a little too right - she’d still hope. Make a wish to whatever angle number or shooting star or deity above that she’d get tossed a chance to be in love with the stupid setter, because she had already fallen.

“Mm y’right?” She heard him, how could she not when he’s practically suffocating her. She chooses not to answer though, humming affirmatively - to which he huffs and shifts slightly, settling back into unconsciousness.

Maybe she’d blame the train of thoughts for tonight on the fact that she’d been drinking. However, come morning, the seed would bloom a little brighter in her chest when she wakes up to realize that her face is pressed into his side, arms circling his slim waist and one sock lost among their tangled legs.

---

God she hated him. Miya Atsumu was too much of a lot of things - too much of a sore winner, too much of an idiot, too much of a talker, and most of all, too much of a liar.

For the second time in the span of a month, Atsumu had convinced her to come out, despite her desperately wanting to curl up in bed and binge eat away the stress of the week. Only this time it was a charity event, so she would definitely be the bad guy if she said no. It was an event where him and the rest of his team had been roped into a charity dinner - which (gratefully) meant that Sakusa would be around, and they could fuck off to a corner someplace to talk shit about what all the rich wives are wearing and how bad it looks when their husbands are flirting with the wait staff. But Atsumu had promised that they’d leave before the entree was served - swore the entire drive over that “we’ll get you back home in time, grandma” and that he’d even cook for her this time.

But the entree had been whisked off about forty minutes ago, her wine glass had been refilled twice, and she was bored of watching Sakusa look at his watch, waiting for an appropriate time to leave. Atsumu was a few tables away, chatting up some couple, something about wanting to get their information for Osamu’s business. He would laugh a little too loudly at their jokes, gaining attention of those at surrounding tables - which was only mildly irritating as he had now gathered a crowd of people around him, spewing off some story about him getting lost in Russia the first time they played overseas.

She huffs and stands up, chair scraping slightly, gaining the attention of the rest of the  table. All she does is hold up her wine glass in a feeble attempt at an answer of where she’d be waiting at the bar. If I have to be here, the least I could do is drink for free. The bar is empty, surprisingly no one wants to mope around this very nice dinner.

“What can I get you?”

“Mmm.. whiskey highball, please.” She answers to the unnecessarily cute bartender, but the raise of his eyebrows do not go unnoticed.  And fortunately (or unfortunately) she’s got the time to press him. “Surprised?”

“Only a little bit. Noticed you were drinking wine most of the night so the whiskey is a hard switch.”

“So you’ve been watching me?” She muses, smiling as he places the drink in front of her. He smiles and leans forward on the bar slightly, shaking his head and replying.

“It’s almost as if… I’m being paid to make sure people have their drinks.”

“Oh, so it's not because I’m cute?”

“Now I didn’t say that did I? But you know you’re gorgeous; your boyfriend over there must tell you all the time.” He muses, a smirk playing at his lips as he nods behind her. She all but chokes on her drink when she turns around and sees that the direction he nodded in was directly in Atsumu’s vicinity before shaking her head violently. Atsumu was not going to ruin this for her. “Oh so not your boyfriend?”

“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ as she slips the straw past her lips again, eyes taking in his leaning form. He was cute. His hair was on the silver side of blond, tips of his hair black. He was tall and lean, a piercing hanging from his left ear.

“That’s a shame.” And she gives him her name with a flutter of her lashes and a sweet smile. He returns it, preparing her next drink without her even having to ask. And so they talk, first about how the next person who approaches the bar should be cut off, to how pretentious the whole event was. Two drinks in, Y/N finds herself being invited to a show.

“This whole bartending thing is just a way for me to get some extra cash… I’ve got a gig in an hour. I figured if we leave together now, I can get you home to change outta this and into something a little more… concert fitting?”

“O-Oh.. yeah. I just need to go let my friend know…” She trails off, sliding off her barstool before turning to gracefully power walking to her initial seat next to Sakusa. She huffs and she plots herself down in the char next to him, to which he gives her a look of what the fuck. “I don’t have time to catch you up, but the insanely hot bartender is taking me home. As much as I’d love to get out of here with you, I desperately need to get lai-”

“Going somewhere?” Fuck fuck fuck.

“Didn’t you hear her? The hot bartender is taking her home and she needs -”

“Aishhhh shut up.” She turns to look at her curly haired friend, only to see that he’s got this annoying little smile on his face. She deeply exhales and turns back to Atsumu, who looks less than amused about what his friend said. “Listen, you promised me we’d leave two hours ago. Well you lied so nooow I made plans, so if you would kindly move outta my way.”

“No.” She whips her head up at the blonde. No? What the absolute fuck was he going on about telling her no, despite her not asking for his permission. “You’ve been drinking and you don’t even know the guy - how can you trust that he won’t memorize your address then come rob you or something? I promised to take you home, and since you’re ready now we can leave now.”

“Listen Miya, I appreciate the concern but really I’m a big girl. I can handle a night out by myself with a guy - besides I’m not even that drunk. Now, give me my house keys and move out of my way.”

Suddenly, it's like those cheesy western movies where two cowboys are staring each other down, neither willing to be put down by the other. Except it's this 6’2” pro-athlete staring quite literally down at Y/N, who hits the gym only on a blue moon and spends too much time sitting at a desk. Sakusa has to laugh at the two stubborn idiots in front of him; he knows that Atsumu is going to be able to win this little game that they're playing, but silently applauds Y/N for attempting to stick it to him. Moments pass before Atsumu finally sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit and pulling out her keys - but he doesn’t give them to her.

“What’s his name? If you can tell me his name I’ll give you your keys and let you go.”

“Let me go? Okay, Dad.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, small clutch dangling from her wrist. “I know his name, Atsumu. I may have had a drink or two but I’m not an idiot to be going off with someone who’s name I don’t even know... it’s… uhm.” And she’s done. She hadn’t even bothered to ask his name, doesn’t even remember whether she gave him hers, nor was she smart enough to notice whether he’d been wearing a name tag.  Mentally she’s cursing herself, chancing a glance behind Atsumu’s shoulder to see the hot bartender chatting it up with another girl. Before she can think too much into it, Atsumu sighs deeply, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair next to her and slipping it on his shoulders, a soft “let’s go” leaving his lips as he nods his good-bye to the rest of the table. Y/N chews at the inside of her cheek before grabbing his arm.

“Give me my keys. I’m not going home with you. I want to be alone.”

---

Four days passed - four days of Atsumu borderline harassing Y/N with apologies. Promising to make it up to her. Which is how she finds herself walking into their favorite local sushi restaurant - it's the only one that has self-serving sushi that arrives on a miniature train, and it's also the only place that they go when apologies are to be exchanged. In the handful of years that they’d be friends, Y/N has needed to apologize to Atsumu thrice - two for blowing him off after overhearing the dreaded words and once for saying that maybe Osamu was the better twin. Atsumu on the other hand, had apologized to Y/N many times - so many times in fact that Y/N is sure that he makes up excuses just so they can come eat at this sushi place.

It’s been a long week for Y/N. The Sunday after the charity event, Y/N wakes up with one of the worst headaches of her life - and its due to the fact that she slept like shit hoping that Atsumu made it home safe since he hadn’t texted her he did. Monday she was handed a stack of documents at work that needed to get done before lunch (which didn’t get done). Tuesday morning was dominated by the fact that some idiot on the train to work had spilt a coffee on her, making her wear the most uncomfortable suit jacket, lest she wear a coffee soaked shirt for most of the day. Today, Wednesday, she’d woken up to a box with a pastry outside her door and a cup of coffee with a sticky note on the lid.

Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Train Sushi? 7pm?

Despite the fact that she was most definitely still thinking about why Atsumu acted the way he did - she still went through the mountain of paperwork on her desk with a little smile, knowing that she’d be getting free sushi and an apology. Maybe if she’s lucky, she can convince him that she needs a crepe on the way home.

As she makes her way into the restaurant that evening, she sees him. His dorito-shaped body is stationed at the bar, a cozy brown coat hugging his back, muscles of his arms being squeezed by the sleeves. She can see that he’s got a drink in front of him and she smiles slightly, stepping up towards the bar but stops momentarily. He’s talking to someone - not just someone, a girl. He’s smiling too. Y/N can’t see the stranger’s face, but judging by the way that she has a hand around his biceps and her head tilted, one can only assume that they know each other. Y/N attempts to step backwards, she wants to let him finish his conversation with the woman but she doesn’t know if she can stomach the idea of watching them flirt; but she misses the step, leading her to bump into the hostess who led her to the bar, creating a bit of a scene.

“Y/N! There you are! C’mere.”

She’s buying time by profusely apologizing to the hostess, who honestly is probably just trying to get away. At this point, Y/N has no choice but to walk towards her friend and this mystery woman. The ten steps towards the pair is enough time for Y/N to mentally list off all the things she could have done in the world to warrant some shitty karma that’s hitting her now. Once face to face with Atsumu, she smiles.

“Sorry - long day at work got me all …” Y/N’s words trail off, the hand that’s not death-gripping her purse waves off with her closing thoughts.

“Don’t mind, Wednesday’s are usually your long days. ‘Sides you’re here now - tha’s what matters.” God he’s so dumb. So handsome and so dumb, and god did she miss him. “It’s a good thing you got here a little late, this is Michimiya Yui. I think you two might’ve -”

“No, I don’t think we’ve met! It’s so nice to meet you - he used to talk about you all the time!” The brunette smiles at Y/N, sticking her hand out, which Y/N takes limply, shaking her hand. She’s pretty, Y/N thinks to herself. Her hair is short and she’s wearing some cute leather thigh high boots, her smile is almost paid-for perfect. She’s got this whole brown smoked out eyeliner working for her, which makes Y/N slightly subconscious about her most likely smudged and uneven eyeliner and less-than appealing work pants. Before Y/N can even think of a response to give, Michimiya has her hand back on Atsumu, a pretty smile settling on her lips. It feels like Y/N is watching a trainwreck happening before her eyes. “I was just telling Atsumu that I was back in town and that we should hang out!”

“And I was just explaining to her that I had plans with yo-”

“You should join us!” Idiot. Why am I such a fucking idiot? Atsumu looks over at Y/N with a wild look in his eyes, Michimiya looks like a child who wound up making out with two candies instead of one. “I had a super long day at work today so I’m really only able to eat dinner, but I know Atsumu can stay up for hours so once I leave you two can hang out.”

“Y/N, I thought that -”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea! I just need to tell the wait staff to cancel my to-go order, so excuse me.”

And so the two friends watch the woman walk away from them, making her way towards the to-go order area. Y/N bites at the inside of her cheek, intentionally avoiding Atsumu’s eyes that she feels are pinned on her. She digs out her phone from her purse, texting Sakusa an ominous “next time you see me, please poison me 😑.” As Y/N drags her eyes up Atsumu’s front, she feels the same way she did when she would get scolded by her parents. His eyes are staring at her face, no doubt wanting to press her about why she willingly invited a stranger to eat with them at their restaurant. To pacify him, all she does is hold up her hand, shaking her head.

“It’s fine, Miya. Like you said, Wednesday’s are my long days so I wouldn’t be able to stay out late with you anyway. Besides…” She starts, fixing a smile onto her face. “I think that she might have a little crush on you!” He says nothing, lips pressed in a hard line and a brow arched up at her. “Don’t look at me like that. And save your apology for next time… we have company.”

The rest of the evening goes exactly like Y/N’s worst nightmare. She is quite literally the third-wheel despite the fact that technically Michimiya was supposed to be the third wheel in this little scenario. Y/N has to watch the pretty brunette flirt relentlessly with Atsumu, who seems blissfully oblivious to the fact that for every compliment Michimiya gives Y/N, she gives herself two more. Sakusa is well informed on the situation, receiving texts every five minutes with another dumb thing that was said in front of Y/N’s appatizers. Rarely does someone ever wish for a natural disaster to hit, but in the last thirty minutes of sitting at this table, Y/N has wished for every biblical curse to wreak havoc in her way.

Despite the fact that Michimiya has hijacked every conversation, Atsumu still tries to ask Y/N about her, including her in the conversation as much as possible. But Y/N stopped trying twenty minutes ago, and is now forcing herself to eat the last few pieces of sushi she ordered - normally she’s a stress eater, but Michimiya has rested her hand on Atsumu’s thigh and Y/N has suddenly never felt more sick in her life. Y/N has never once picked up a tab around Atsumu - “please, ‘ve got more money than I know whatta do wit’it” he’d always tell her when she attempted to take up the ticket - but when they finally wave down someone and ask for the check, Y/N drops some cash on the table and collects her things.

“It’s been so nice to meet you, but I think I should really get going. I’ve gotta get to work early tomorrow - I’ll see you this weekend right, Miya?”

“Wait up, I’ll take you home… Yui it’s been really -”

“No no, really it's okay! You stay! I’ll just text you when I get home. Be safe. And again it was so nice to meet you - take care of Atsumu for me.”

“Oh I will!”

Y/N is not a runner but she’s never sprinted away from a situation so fast in her life. The image of Michimiya’s sly little smile at Y/N’s request to take care of her friend makes her feel gross, tears stinging at the back of her eyes and she settles on the train. Y/N can name a handful of times when she’d seen Atsumu around women - but never once had she’d met someone he was romantically involved with and it hurts. The gentle sway of the train does nothing to settle the spinning of her head with images of what Atsumu actually looks for - his actual type. She feels like an idiot; she should have just told Atsumu that they could do a raincheck, or if she was feeling bold, she could’ve told Michimiya to fuck off. The latter seems possible in the version of herself in Y/N’s head, but the reality was that she was too nice. Always wanted to make the people she cares about happy, and Atsumu looked... happy? Besides, Y/N thinks to herself as she exits the train and makes the trek towards her apartment building, if Michimiya Yui was going to be involved with Atsumu, the more exposure she had to her, the better off Y/N would be in accepting that Atsumu would never ever be with Y/N like that.

Once settled in her apartment, she sends off a quick “home. thanks for tonight!” to Atsumu before making her way to the bathroom. A nice warm soak would surely make her feel better, make her forget about what an idiot she is and maybe, just maybe, make her body relax all the love she holds in her heart for the blond away. Her phone pings, twice, but she ignores it. Ten minutes into her pity soak she hears a bang on her door, which only makes her groan and dunk her head under the water. The banging stops, making Y/N think it was just her neighbor or something asking for a favor. What she doesn’t expect is for her to exit the bath twenty minutes later to see Sakusa Kiyoomi sittin on her couch.

“Hello, glad to see you exploiting your spare key access.”

“Miya called me and said you looked like shit earlier. And judging by your texts throughout the evening, I figured you were on the brink of a breakdown.”

And so she was. She spent the rest of the evening talking Kiyoomi through the night, slipping in all the questions she’s had from the past two times that Atsumu had cockblocked her. And bless Kiyoomi for sitting through her tears, sitting cross-legged and drinking tea that he had initially made for her but refused to let her drink once he realized she had already brushed her teeth. It felt almost like she was finally thinking about what her friendship with Miya Atsumu was, what it could and couldn’t be. Every moment painted so clearly about how Y/N felt for her blond friend, but the only thing missing was how said friend felt about her. At 11:30 pm, two hours after Kiyoomi initially arrived at Y/N’s apartment, she pushed Kiyoomi out the door, eyes puffy but heart and head a little clearer than how they were when he arrived.

Despite promising Kiyoomi that she would not think about Atsumu, as Y/N settles into bed, her thoughts can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with him. She mulls it over as she slides off her socks, deciding that it’d be nice - probably exactly how they are now, plus a title and a little less swatting his hands away when he reaches for her in public. Y/N can’t help it as she thinks about whether they would kiss a lot - they’ve kissed before, neither strangers to cheek kisses as greetings or kisses at the top of their heads when the other is crying into their chest (there was even that very drunk kiss they shared on New Years Eve when their friendship was fresh that both still have warm cheeks about when they think about). Just as she’s about to go down the path of whether Atsumu would spend more nights with her at her cardboard box of an apartment or her at his, Y/N cuts herself off - after all she wasn’t his type. Tonight proved that more than anything, she thinks.

It’s not like Atsumu has never brought anyone around Y/N - there’d been a few that she’d met, though they were mostly over a facetime call and it was mostly just her waving at them before Atsumu ducked away to have a private conversation. It's not like tonight was the first night Y/N had to swallow the bile in her mouth at seeing someone make heart eyes at Atsumu - it's just this time felt different; almost like Y/N was finally having the truth thrusted into her face. But Y/N isn’t mad or hateful of Michimiya, nor Atsumu for that matter - she’d never been the type to hate a girl for having feelings for the person she has feelings for. It’s annoying, sure, but Y/N doesn’t see the point in hating someone for how they feel - however, Y/N does not make the effort to become friends with these girls, or maintain the close friendship with Atsumu for that matter. Is it petty to put a strain on a friendship out of fear of losing said friendship? Absolutely! But Y/N knows she won’t be able to stomach another night like tonight - another night of seeing Atsumu slip so easily from her fingers into the arms of another. And as observant as Atsumu is, he never fully recognizes that Y/N is avoiding him, at least that what she hopes since more often than he’s able to worm himself back into her life.

---

Following the failed apology dinner, Y/N tried her hardest to give herself a few days without the blonde- made easy by the fact that the weekend after the failed apology dinner he’d be out of town for another tournament. It’s not like she was totally avoiding him, she’d responded to his texts and even answered two of his six facetime calls while he was away, she just wanted a little bit of time to wallow in self pity in her apartment, crying over her comfort movies and eating too many bags of hot chips. But once he was back in the same timezone as her, Atsumu made it impossible for Y/N to fully wallow.

It started when he texted her about their favorite crepe place temporarily closing for some reason or other - he’d tried to convince her to ditch work early that day to come, but Y/N declined with a simple text of “i like my job tyvm.” So what did he do? Pick her up in his flashy sports car that day after work (two hours later than usual since she’d figured he’d do something ridiculous like this) and drove her there, where he didn’t bat an eyelash as she ordered double than what she normally would have (a silent fuck you from Y/N but it didn’t matter since she wasn’t actualy hurting his wallet). She’d been able to tide him off for a few days, as she escaped to her hometown for a weekend - but that did little to stop the mirage of texts he’d sent her, describing in great detail this cool hybrid bookstore-game cafe that he found and thinks she’d like. Instead of responding how she actually wanted, she’d just replied with a half-assed “ahh exciting- sounds cute!” (She mentally grants herself ten nice points for erasing her initially text, telling him to take his “fucking girlfriend”). This must have really struck a nerve with him when the following weekend, he’d dragged her out of bed on Sunday morning to take her to said bookstore-game cafe, even spoiling her by secretly buying a book she’d picked up but put back.

Y/N can’t tell if Atsumu is intentionally ignoring the hints she doesn’t want to see him or if he’s really just oblivious. She also can’t tell if the patter of her heart when he drags her out of bed despite her not wanting to see him is a good thing or not. It’s been weeks since she’d third-wheeled with Atsumu and Michimiya, surely Y/N should have been able to take a little bit of pride in the fact that he was literally chasing her down to spend time with her rather than Michimiya - but before she can even swallow that pill Atsumu shows up at her apartment with the trace of a bruise hiding just below his shirt collar. The small mark on his neck makes Y/N convince herself that this would be the time that she needs a full on Atsumu ban.

Said ban never actually happens, though.

Just as proof that this ban doesn’t happen, today Atsumu has decided that Y/N needs to come shopping with him. For the entire day. Cue the montage of Atsumu banging on Y/N’s door at nine in the morning, breakfast pastries and coffee in hand as Y/N answers in all her morning glory, sleep caked up in the outer corner of her eyes and pajamas haphazardly fixed. Words are exchanged as Atsumu pushes her towards the shower, promising to make up her bed and even take out the trash for her (a chore she put off last night because she’d seen too many people smoking by the dumpsters which scared her enough to make her drag up the two bags of back up the five flights of stairs). As Y/N settles at her desk to work on making herself “the hottest person at the market,” Atsumu settles on her bed, talking a mile a minute about all the things he wanted to get at the market and the possible places they could go for lunch in the area. All she can do is hum, wondering silently why he’d chosen to take the trip with her and not his girlfriend - but she wouldn’t complain.

The market was...fulfilling enough. Surprisingly, Y/N was walking towards the food trucks with more bags in her hands than Atsumu, who followed behind her with one print from a vendor that Y/N convinced him would actually look good in his home office. The pair decided that Y/N was better suited to look for a place where they could park themselves to eat, while Atsumu went off to get them lunch. Before Y/N could make a break for the tables though, Atsumu grabbed her face, thumb swiping at her cheek firmly - it took Y/N every ounce of restraint to not whimper at the unprompted affection.

“Wha-”

“Had some of that jam sample from earlier on your face, dummy.”

“Tsk… why didn’t you see it earlier.”

He just smiled softly, letting the warmth of his hand fall from her face before patting her back towards her initial direction. Frankly, she’d been thrown off her rhythm; they’d touched each other before for fucks sake. So why was this one moment of closeness enough to make her chest feel tight? As she weaved through the tables, she can’t help but hold her hand to where his was, almost as if to preserve the warmth that was now gone. She hummed gleefully as she found a table, making her way towards it and setting up camp. As she settles into her chair, fingers deftly texting to Atsumu where she’s stationed, she sees a shadow come across the table.

“Hey, are you gonna use all these chairs?” He’s cute, almost terribly cute - he’s got this pinkish-blonde hair going on top, an almost shy glint in his gray-ish colored eyes, and an almost self-assured smile pulling at his lips. He was also tall, much taller since Y/N was sitting, but she almost doesn’t mind considering the fact that she is most definitely gawking at him. She shakes her head momentarily, both as an answer to his question and a way to clear her head momentarily.

“Thanks! My friend over there is too precious to sit on the curb, apparently.” He smiles at her, eyes squinting and she’s momentarily breathless at just how cute he is when he smiles. His arms move to grab one of the chairs and that's when she decides to speak up, not wanting to quite end the conversation yet.

“Ahh no worries! I know all about having that too precious friend! I only need one other chair so you can take two of these.”

“Oh cool thanks… and hey this might be a little weird but - fuck are you from Miyagi? You look kinda like this one girl from high school but - “

“I am! I went to Aoba Johsai and -”

He clicks his tongue and seems to smile even brighter now. “That’s right - you’re Y/N right? I think you were a year younger than us right, but you always hung out with that one girl in my year who used to smoke behind the boy’s gym…” Y/N nods, a grimace on her face and the back of her neck feeling a little warm with embarrassment. How could she possibly explain that said girl was actually Y/N’s cousin and that she didn’t actually smoke, she’d just smell like it after working at their family restaurant. “Well I’m Makki, by the way. If you remember Matsukawa and Iwaizumi they're over there - they were at Seijoh too.” She nods, leaning slightly to see the two men behind him, both wearing smiles that were just a little too cheeky.

“Yeah yeah, I remember… you also had a particular whiny one with you too, right?” He laughs at that, responding that said whiny one was actually abroad. The two make a little conversation, her giving him some suggestions on places to visit since one of his trio is actually visiting for the weekend. Y/N thinks this is nice - feels like the main character in a movie with the amount of men that have approached her in the past couple weeks. Before she can get too cocky in her ability to pull though, Atsumu walks up to the table, hands full with a tray that seems to be piled with too many little plates.

“There y’are… couldn’t see you from across the way… everything okay?” Atsumu questions, standing to his full height as if sizing up Makki, who seems completely unphased by Atsumu.

“Yeah, was just asking your girlfriend if I could steal these two chairs away before I realized that we knew each other.” The strawberry blonde is definitely unphased by Atsumu, who’s shoulders visibly relax at Makki’s suggestion that the two friends were together. “Well it was nice seeing you, Y/N! Thanks again for the chairs, you all enjoy your meal.”

As Makki walks away, Atsumu settles into his own chair with a smug little smile playing at his lips. Y/N, on the other hand, is chewing at the inside of her cheek as food is placed in front of her. Her blond friend, the observant little shit, notices that she doesn’t immediately tuck into the lunch laid in front of her and nudges her foot with his, muttering a quick “what's wrong.”

“You were blessed with possibly the worst timing in the world, y’know that?”

“What d’ya mean?” He muses, taking in her huffily pulling the lid off her food and stuffing her face with the rice bowl in front of her.. She chews, combing the food on her plate with the plastic fork as a way to stop herself from unleashing all her frustrations.

“You always but in whenever I start getting hit on! Or you stop every chance I have at possibly getting to know someone; you come in here full force and its really not fair. I don’t do it to you, and it's just not fair.” Y/N hates that she probably sounds like a whining child, but she really can’t help it anymore. It’s really not fair that Atsumu flaunts his conquests on the cover of every magazine, but god forbid Y/N talk to a guy. “Its been a while since I’ve had sex, Atsumu, and it’s getting to a point where I’d jump just about anyone’s bones. I - I just think that as my best friend you should be providing me some support, not cockblocking me at every fucking opportunity you get.”

It takes every fiber in his body to not laugh at how ridiculous Y/N is being right now. He licks at his lip, catching whatever food crumbs he could before clearing his throat. “‘M sorry what? You actually wanna hook up with those guys? They seem like the type to just fuck ya n’ then not text you back.”

“And if that’s what I want then so what!? Did you miss the part where I said I’m desperate here?”

“Then..” He takes a swig at his water bottle in front of him, leaning back slightly in his seat and sliding his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head. “If you need it that badly then you can just do it with me. You said anyone so I can -”

She laughs, one that sounds on the brink of delusion. “You’re fucking ridiculous. Yeah okay… Dunno if you remember but you’ve got a girlfriend, Miya.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Y/N. We’re… not that serious with each other and we’re also open. She knows that..'' He looks smug, and Y/N wants to smack the absolute life out of him. “And I’m being serious, darlin.. I’d rather get you off than see you get your hopes up over some random.”

Y/N squeezes the poor utensil in her hand, choosing to chomp down one of the buns on the table instead of reminding Atsumu that she wasn’t exactly his type. But she lets it go, just squinting at him and shaking her head, mumbling how ridiculous he is before swiping some of his veggies off his plate. How else is she supposed to react to her best friend blatantly telling her that he’d fuck her if she’d ask - she tries to ignore the way that their knees resting on each other under the table makes her heart soar. Before she can form a sentence, something to steer the direction away from her sex life (or lack thereof), Atsumu mumbles around a forkful of food that she’d better hurry since he wants to do another lap of the market before it closes.

---

Atsumu’s offer and that entire conversation is brought up again a few days later; the pair are in Y/N’s apartment this time. She’d asked him and his brother to come over to install some shelves for her, but apparently Osamu was busy. With the shelves installed, Y/N put on a movie to serve as Atsumu’s entertainment whilst she organized her trinkets. She wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, too concerned with trying to see if the shelves were actually level or not when she heard Atsumu laugh behind her, muting the T.V. with a quizzical brow raised.

“Huh? If you don’t like the movie then you can change it… ‘m not payin atten-”

“Oh yeah not paying attention right?” She gives him a hard look as if proving to him that she can’t honestly give him the plot of the movie. “So you’re telling me that its just a coincidence that this movie is about two friends who make a pact to fuck each other? That it's a coincidence that the literal name of the movie is ‘Friends with Benefits”

She rolls her eyes and turns to face him fully, seeing that he’s now sat up on her couch with his elbows resting on his knees. A beat passes before he puts his hands up, almost as if in surrender, before he pushes himself off the couch and towards the kitchen. She watches him as he pulls out a bottle of wine, nodding to the couch as if asking her to take a break. She relents, folding her legs under herself and pulling at a string on the worn sofa, thinking she’d probably try to replace this piece before she renewed her lease. He thrusts the glass to her, settling into the sofa but he makes no move to unmute the T.V., instead inciting some silent battle while they each sip from their respective glasses.

“Y’know you’ve been snappy lately… my offer from the other day still stands, hope y’know tha’.” She scoffs, choosing to take another swig at her wine, which does little to cool the warmth she feels in her throat. He’s not technically wrong - the conversation the other day had made a fog of tension hang over her, making a long lost desire for the blond resurface in her lower abdomen at full force. She’d spent way too much time the other night on Amazon, debating on whether it would be a good idea to get rechargeable batteries for her toy, spent too long watching his mouth move when he’d facetimed her the other night. It's not that Y/N hadn’t hooked up with anyone since knowing Atsumu, it's just that maybe she’d spent a little too much time enjoying how Atsumu met her emotional needs that she had neglected her physical needs.

“What offer?” She’ll be damned to let him in on the fact that she’d done nothing but think about his stupid offer. Refuses to let him know that she wants, no needs, to say yes. So she plays dumb, finger dancing along the lip of her cup, foot swinging anxiously against the floor.

He hums, reaching to put his glass on her beat up coffee table. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, placing his chin in his hand, giving Y/N his undivided attention. “‘Samu was talking about how his girlfriend has been on his ass lately about every little thing and so I asked him if they’re doin’ okay, y’know physically… didn’t answer me but I figured he’d solved it if he hasn’t mentioned it since. I heard someone say that if yer girl’s acting fussy then y’need to think about if you’ve been fuckin’ her right and well…” Y/N swallows the lump in her throat, stopping the shiver that threatens to rack her body at the idea of Atsumu thinking she’s his girl. “I was bein’ serious the other day. I know ya were mad so it wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but it seemed like the only good thing to say. Besides, ‘m not all that bad in bed, can ring up a few people if y’need a review.”

Y/N doesn’t respond with anything other than a forced huff of laughter, can't respond really. It feels too warm, she’s hoping that maybe this is some fever dream instead of reality. She just plays with her cup absentmindedly, not quite able to look the blond in the eyes despite the fact that his eyes are studying her face as if she holds all the answer to the questions the universe has. Him being bad in bed is the least of her worries, what if she’s bad? God she wants to say yes, maybe she’ll say yes - maybe it’d be good for her to finally get some di-

“Forget it, ‘m sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable then we don’t have to, sweetheart. I just -”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Oh now she speaks. He looks at her, a wild look fixed on his face, almost as if he doesn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth. “It's just..” She throws her head back, face covered momentarily by some plant leaves. God she didn’t want to actually voice her thoughts but now she has no choice.

“It’s just what? If yer worried about the fuckin part, I can just get you off other ways. Get paid to be good with my hands -”

“Just shut up for once please, you’re ruining it.” He makes a show of zipping his lips, smiling as Y/N squares herself to him, stretching her neck as if she’s preparing for a fight, rather than speaking a coherent sentence.. “It's just that I don’t… dont wanna force you into thinking you have to ‘cos I’m being bitchy to you.. Like it’s not your problem to fix y’know and I just. Besides, don't wanna be the only one enjoying it, want you to like it too and … for fucks sake this is ridiculous. I just dunno I-”

Atsumu’s hand reaches out towards her, fingers stroking her knee in a comforting manner but it’s all but comforting to Y/N, who’s entire leg feels on fire at this small moment of skinship. “Shh, shh, no baby yer not forcing me to do anything. Don’t think that way - I-I wanna do it! I wan’ya to be happy and if this makes you happy then… And i mean if y’need more of a reason then think of it as a way for me to say sorry for cockblockin’ ya all the time.”

Y/N doesn’t say yes, but she also doesn’t outright decline. She can’t think of anything other than how, if she nodded her head, he’d give her everything she’d been wanting. Atsumu and Y/N stare at each other, moments pass and she’s sure that he’s going to take her stillness and silence as a no - but he just moves to grab her wine glass, moving it from her grasp to the table, shifting closer to her in the process. She holds her breath and he brings one of his hands towards her face, palming the side of her jaw in his warm hand, thumb rubbing at the plush skin of her lips. “Can I kiss ya? Maybe tha’s all ya need is a good kiss, yeah?” She nods, his hand moving to pluck at her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Got really nice lips, don’t you? ‘S so soft and wet, catch myself wanting to touch ‘em allot’' She inhales softly as he leans in, his hand sliding to the side of her neck and he litters soft kisses against her jaw. She whines softly when his mouth nears hers. “Shh, gonna kiss you in a minit.”

All Y/N can do is breath, mouth parted slightly as Atsumu drags his mouth over her face. His hand is so warm and big on her skin; he’s so close in her face that all she can do is inhale and smell him, making her dizzy with building warmth in her belly. They catch each other’s gaze, neither daring to blink away, before he tilts his head, pressing his mouth against hers softly at first. He doesn’t move to kiss her, just holds his lips over hers for a moment, as if giving her time to back away if she wants to; but when she doesn’t, he hums and pulls her head towards his more, lips moving in tandem. His hand slides from her cheek, worming its way towards the nape of her neck as he pulls her to him - he wastes no time in deepening the kiss, licking into her mouth with  fervor. And she lets him, moving into his lap as she relishes in the feeling of his tongue lazily swirling with her own; the new found position allows him to drag his hand down her back soothingly, her own hands sliding around his neck and up into his hair.

She parts with a soft gasp, whether it be for air or out of surprise she can’t tell. He whines momentarily, before nosing his way down towards her neck, pressing butterfly-light kisses at the flesh. She’s wiggling in his arms, and he laughs, the air ticking the soft bend of her collarbone. “Fuck, you’ve been holdin out on me. Tha’ was good right? A good kiss for ya?” All Y/N can do is nod, sliding her hand towards his face in hopes of bringing his lips back to hers. She can feel the smirk on his mouth when she presses their mouths together again, and maybe after she’d bitch him out about it but right now all she wants is to be suffocated by him.

Moments pass, the air filled with soft pants in between kisses and thickening arousal. Atsumu cards his fingers in her hair gently, mouth still against hers, free hand sneaking around Y/N’s front. She whines softly, to which he shushes her softly. “Shh you’re okay… just wanna feel ya.” He soothes her over by indulging her in soft kisses against her lips,   hand pushing up the front of her ratty t-shirt, snaking his hand past the waistband of her shorts into the confines of her (now too tight) underwear. Y/N shudders when he strokes lightly over her clit, before surpassing it completely and going to where a wet spot had been developing on the fabric. Plucking the damp cotton out of the way and letting the tips of two fingers rub over her weeping hole, “Oh.. this for me?”

A small noise crawls out of her throat, a mix between a moan, a whine, and surprise. “Don’t, ‘tsumu. It’s embarrassing..”

“Shh don’t be embarrassed. Just feels good to know I make ya feel good, baby.” Atsumu pulls his fingers from her, smiling when she whines at the loss of contact. But he’s able to soother her before she can get too fussy; one moment Y/N is on top of him, struggling to not rock against his thigh and relieve some of the pressure building up inside of her, the next Atsumu has her flipped over so her back, her body caged between the back of the sofa and his arms. A hand on either side of her head as he bends in, sweeps his tongue at a strip of salty skin just beneath her jaw. He hastily shoves up the shirt she’s wearing, revealing more of her and letting his hands graze over her breasts lightly at first before kneading them. She feels lightheaded while his mouth works on her throat, biting and sucking a bruise at the base of it that makes her gulp. Parting from the skin with a gentle kiss and a small, whispered comment of, “Taste so good, so soft and sweet. Been holding out on me, hmm?”

For the first time ever, Y/N has Atsumu in her arms and has no need to push him away - no, instead she’s holding onto him as if she’d die if he slipped away from her, her hands gripping his broad shoulders before sliding up into his hair as he makes his way down her body. He’s practically praising her - pressing wet, open mouthed kisses on her skin as he moves downwards, fingers making quick work of tugging her bottoms off, helping her kick out of them quickly and clumsily. She knows that Atsumu is not a patient man, but this is a whole other level of impatience. He’s pushing her thighs open, cold fingers squeezing at the soft flesh of her thighs as he scoots down to be at eye-level with the barest part of her, making sure her calves are hooked over his shoulders. Y/N can’t remember a time when she’s ever been in a more vulnerable position, but instead of shying away like her instincts would have her, she finds herself moving to better accommodate the man between her legs. Her eyes catch his caramel colored ones and her breath catches in her throat; he’s staring at her, enamored by her.

“Such a pretty little thing aren’t ya?” he murmurs, lips forming a gentle kiss on her inner thigh but before she can retort he gives one long, gentle swipe of his tongue directly up the middle of her folds. She gasps, face turned away from him and thighs threatening to close, but he shifts his hand to stop her, holding her in place. “Aht… don’t get shy now, lemme get a taste.”

It’s too much when he dives back in, skilled mouth a vicious match for his insatiable need to please. As he strokes his soft, wet tongue deeper and deeper between her slippery folds that part around him willingly. Y/N’s sure she’s moments away from swearing her undying fealty to whatever higher being put this on her plate for today.  Puckering his lips around her clit after stopping just before sucking on her until it was swollen and even greedier for his attention. Dipping his tongue inside of her hole, humming appreciatively against her and only feeding into the whimpering sounds filtering out of her mouth.

Embarrassingly, Y/N feels that she’s nearing her end - despite the shame of admitting that it's coming too fast, she feels the need to tell him anyway. “Hmph… g’na cum,” she chokes out, hoping that he heard her because all she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears. Every sense is suffocated by Atsumu’s presence, and she’s shameless as she lets every pant slip past her lips, feeding into Atsumu’s ego. “‘m so close, I need it. Need you to – to keep going please, ‘Tsumu”

And he does, gets her to the edge of her high before sliding his mouth away from her. The whine that falls past her lips is deafening, eyes opening and seeing that he’s just nuzzling her thigh, lips making light work at marking the soft flesh. “No, no you said… said you’d help.. Please I’m-” she’s hiccuping, tripping over her words numbly as she tries tugging his head back to where she’s most desperate for him.

He hums at her softly, almost patronizingly, as he places a kiss to the skin closest to his mouth. “Don’t cry pretty girl.. Won’t leave you hanging, ‘ts so warm down ‘ere… might have to stay forever, tha’ okay?” He is disgusting, filthy, so sinfully good. And true to his word, he goes back in without another word, only a small smile and his own hum that vibrates through her lower half. When he takes her clit back between his lips, it’s all she needs. Every tense muscle finally seizing to his maximum strain; it’s like she was a string that’d been stretched too far and finally frayed in the middle, snapping. She can hear her heartbeat thumping like a bass in her ears, can feel the way she’s twitching under Atsumu’s relentless movements, and it drowns out her own noises that she’s making.

Moments later, all that can be heard is her bated breathing, head completely empty and eyes heavy, flickering and fluttering with just how light she feels. Atsumu kisses his way back up to be face-to-face with her, making sure to peck gently at the marks he’d littered her skin with. His face is buried in the base of her throat, their arms tangled around each other lazily - Y/N feels too sleepy to protest the way that he’s pressing all his weight onto her; but isn’t too tired to realize that he’s hard when her hips wiggle to accommodate him between her legs, maybe has been the entire time, which confuses her slightly. Why would he be hard over her? She understands her total arousal over him since she bitched him into submission, but him? If anything, him being hard right now just proves, to Y/N at least, that maybe he would get it up with anything. But what if it is for you, her heart wonders briefly.

“‘Tsumu… are you-?”

“Shh, ‘ts alright. Let's get you to bed.” And he moves to slide off her, moving to guide the two of them to her bed, which was a feat on its own considering Y/N’s legs feel like jelly. All he can do is smile at her, taking in her relaxed face and mused hair. He settles her into bed, sliding up next to her and pulling her onto his chest, lips pressed into the crown of her head.  Before Y/N can even think of a way to say thank you, she feels sleep taking over, choosing instead to just indulge (for once) in the pseudo-domestic situation she’s in tonight.

The following morning, Y/N almost doesn’t want to wake up, isn’t ready to come to terms with whatever happened yesterday. Long gone is the lusty drunkenness from last night, but Atsumu...Atsumu is still fully there, lips pursed and arms shoved under the pillow - Y/N holds back the urge to trace her fingers along the lines of his arm. She russells around, hoping that sleep takes over her again so she can justify waking up wrapped around Atsumu - her attempts are futile though when she feels a firm squeeze at her side, cold fingers making her jump slightly.

“Wha’s wrong?”

She mumbles a barely coherent “nothing,” to which Atsumu just hums, snaking his arm over Y/N’s middle and pulling her towards him, chest to chest with his breath fanning over her face. She swears she could die a happy person now. Wants to have every morning be like this, him in her too small bed, squishing themselves together for warmth, just the sheer proximity is enough, she muses to herself. Apparently, Y/N is thinking just a little too loud this morning for Atsumu’s liking because he sighs softly, asking if she’s sure nothing is wrong.

“Mm ‘m fine. Jus’ tryna get comfortable, go back to sleep.”

“Can’t now, all yer wiggling woke me up” And before she can even retort, he shifts slightly, practically forcing his groin on her thigh, to which she squeaks softly. “Jus go back to sleep… too early for breakfast.”

“Bu- Tsumu.. Lemme..” she starts, shyly. She did have this inherent need to pay him back for what happened, and she can only equate his favor with something equally as...pleasurable?...fulfilling? She can’t find the right word but the most equal compensation for sex has to be more sex, right? The sleep in her bones is fully gone now, her hands sliding down his sides slowly, tentatively. “Please...wanna jus’-”

“Don’t have to, can just go to the rest- sh-shit.” He starts, his own hand reaching to stop hers but his movements stutter when she palms at his crotch, giving his bulge a full on grope. She shushes him softly, lips moving to peck his jaw softly as she snakes her hands past the tight confines of his underwear; and though she can’t see much of what is going on she can feel how thick Atsumu is. His hands have shifted slightly, one arm resting behind her and the other cupping her face, their lips tangled in kisses that feel too sweet and far from platonic.

Moments pass, and it's apparent that Y/N is moving much too slowly for Atsumu, him bucking into her hand and his hips rolling in uncalculated and sloppy movements. He whines softly when she pulls her lips off his, both softly gasping for air, but she shushes him, using the most minimal amount of strength to push him onto his back and settles between his massive thighs. By this point, once fully exposed in front of her, he's so hard that the foreskin is already drawn away from the head, tip slick and wet with precum. She’s gentle, wanting to preserve the quietness that comes with waking up at eight in the morning, as she presses a few open mouth kisses at the patch of hair below his belly button.

And it’s all over from here. Y/N ducked herself down, licking from the dip of his balls to his drippy head in one broad swipe. Y/N shudders softly at the whimper she’s able to pull out of the man above her, thinking that it’s probably the best noise she’d ever elicited from a man. Atsumu runs his fingers through her hair as she slides his head into her mouth, fingers deftly scraping at her scalp as she begins sucking. She sucks him like she wants to – like this was the most perfect way to spend every morning, with her blonde, dumb, stupid best friend stuffing her mouth. Both are still hazy with sleep, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from pulling him in deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she begins bobbing her head and moving her hand in tandem to stroke at what can’t fit in her mouth.

His fingers start to tangle in her hair rather than comb through it, his moans filling the room, punctuated with little encouragements that she hums at around him, like, “Tha’s it, there’s my good girl,” and through shaky laughs, “M'gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.” Eventually, Y/N knows that he must be near his peak, but she pauses, eyes locking with his caramel colored ones, as she pulls her mouth away to let his length just rest on her tongue.

“Fuck yer pretty… so good aren’t ya?” He whisper-groans at her, gripping her hair a little harder when she tilts her head to the side, allow him to shallowly fuck himself between her lips, his thumb tracing the bulge his dick made in her cheek. “Need'a pull off if y'don’t wanna taste, baby… gettin so- fuck- so close.” He gives her hair a slight tug, like he might actually pull her off himself, but she doesn’t allow him; she just shifts her mouth, making light work of wrapping her lips around his tip, sucking greedily with and humming in protest around him. And it’s that that sends him over, twitching in her mouth as he sputters off shaky profanities before she feels shot after shot of white ropes hitting her tongue. Y/N can’t help but stare at him above her, relishing in the fact that this morning she gets to see him shake and shudder because of her.

Y/N pops off him gently, drawing back and humming at the lingering salty taste he’s left on her tongue. She graces the skin of his heaving abdomen with soft, fluttering kisses as she tucks him back into his underwear, before she crawls up his body, legs swinging to straddle his narrow hips. He’s got an arm thrown over his eyes, neck red and he seems almost bashful underneath her (which makes Y/N’s heart swell with adoration at just how him he is). She wiggles softly, folding her hands on his chest and laying her chin on them, waiting for him to say something to her. She blows a laugh through her nose when he finally looks down at her, eyes glimmering and lips pulled in the shyest smile she thinks she’s ever seen on him.

“You… yer good. Too good… just wow.”

---

Suffice to say lots has happened in the week following the pair quite literally eating their hearts out.

Firstly, Atsumu spent nearly every evening at her apartment that week. He waited every single day outside of her office building - her coworkers have taken to telling her how lucky she is that she has a man waiting for her with this whipped look on her face, but she swears up and down (with warm cheeks) that it's not like that. They eat dinner, alternating between picking up something on the way or cooking together - and by cooking, just picture Atsumu cutting vegetables in uneven chunks while Y/N scolds him for not adding enough water to the rice cooker. Normally this could happen: it's not super rare that they visit each other during the week if it's convenient - what is definitely not in the norm is the fact that Atsumu has buried himself between Y/N’s thighs thrice this week. It starts when Y/N looks too stressed on Tuesday evening, that Atsumu pulls her legs over his lap in an attempt to “massage some of the stress away,” which only leads to him manhandling her onto her back, promising to give her something else to cry about besides work.

Secondly, Osamu thought it would be best to alert Y/N that Atsumu had a very awkward conversation with a woman during lunch on Thursday - it was secretly his way of asking her to ask Atsumu what happened because both Y/N and Osamu were terrible gossips who feed off each other. When Y/N asked though, all Atsumu said was that the whole conversation didn’t matter, that the woman (who Y/N learned was actually Michimiya) wanted more than Atsumu was able to give to her. That their lives weren’t in sync or whatever, that they’d eventually manage to be co-workers at best. To say that Y/N wasn’t elated at the news would be a bold-faced lie.

Y/N feels on cloud nine, feels like she doesn’t even need to have a conversation with Atsumu about what their situation is currently. She gets to reap all the benefits of a relationship now, she’s physically taken care of and emotionally spoiled. Only thing she’s actually missing is the title but what's in a word, right?Atsumu wasn’t a natural flirt, always hid compliments behind a harsh delivery - but lately he’s taken to drowning Y/N in compliments, even the corny ones. Y/N expected a post-nut “god yer pretty,” but what occasionally caught her off was when he would open the door for her (normal) and say that “a pretty gal like you should never hafta touch a handle” (not normal). Subconsciously, Y/N feels like he’s only trying to compliment his way into her pants, but she chooses to ignore the way he coos at “just how gorgeous her eyes are” when he makes eye contact with her during a midnight snack.

On the second Thursday following the start of the Y/N-Astumu situationship, Y/N has no choice really other than to ask Atsumu what’s going on with them. They’re at the grocery store by his place (he’d convinced her to take the following day off work and spend the night with him), everything is more than normal when the pair’s conversation gets interrupted by a literal model-esque person, touching Atsumu’s shoulder. Y/N tries to sneak her hand from his arm, but he grasps her hand before she can get too far, looking at the stranger with a less-than-friendly expression.

“Oh Miya! I’m a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo with me?” He indulges his fan, never letting go of Y/N’s hand, even as she steps out of the camera’s focus. The stranger parts with a grateful smile to both Atsumu and Y/N, which feels unnecessary, but Y/N returns anyway. The friends continue their shopping trip before making the trek to Atsumu’s apartment building. Y/N is quiet, in her head about the whole fan interaction that lasted a total of five minutes, but Atsumu says nothing - even stays quiet until the pair are up in his apartment.

“Everything okay? Not bored of me are ya?”

She smiles weakly at him, settling to rest against his kitchen counter. “It’s just… I- nevermind it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, hand waving in front of her as if trying to shoo away the negative cloud above her head. But Atsumu quickly grabs her hand, pulling her into the space between his arms.

“It’s not stupid if ‘s how yer feeling.. What’s up?”

“Okay…” She starts, pushing away from his chest to give herself some literal and mental space. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back at the opposite counter to Y/N, who's mirroring his stance except her head is thrown back, eyes searching his ceiling for the right words to come next. “Are you always like… this… with the girls who give you head?” When she looks at him, his head is tilted to the left in confusion, making her huff anxiously. “Okaaay.. you’ve complimented me more in the past three weeks than any other person has in my entire life… is that normal for you to do with the girls hooking up with you or am I the exception? It’s not a big deal.. It’s just that you -”

“I compliment you because you deserve to be complimented, sweetheart… but if it makes you uncomfortable then I can stop.” He cuts in, before he uncrosses his arms, palms gripping at the counter behind him. “As for the whole hooking up part… is that what you want this to be? ‘Cos we can do that, up to you Y/N, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give -”

“But why? Until three weeks ago I was under the impression that I wasn’t your ‘type’ or whatever so why now are you suddenly on board with taking whatever I give you?”

He laughs, and Y/N wants to cry. Why wasn’t he taking this seriously? Y/N is good at feeling her feelings, but has a hard time clearly expressing those feelings into words.

“Don’t laugh a-”

“Who told you what my type was? If it was ‘Samu or Omi I swear I’ll -”

“You did. You said I wasn’t your type.” He balks, eyes wide and riddled with trying to think about when he said it. “It was forever ago, but you said it. You came back from Germany, I picked you up and ‘Samu had called while I went to the restroom and well.. I overheard you say-”

“Yer an idiot, made an assumption before ya knew the whole truth, baby. I was talking about this photographer that I was kinda seein’ at the time. M’brother asked why if she’d get mad that I chose to see you fresh off the plane instead of her, said it didn’t matter because she wasn’t my type.”

Y/N wishes that the floor of his ridiculously priced apartment would swallow her whole, or that if she pushed the right buttons on his fancy microwave she’d be able to rewind life to five minutes ago when she decided to start this conversation. Frankly, she feels silly and like she shouldn’t say anything else - she knows that her words conveyed a little bit of insecurity that she’s sure Atsumu doesn’t want to have to deal with.

A beat passes before both Y/N and Atsumu open their mouths, but he’s able to get out the words first. “You really thought that you weren’t my type?” Fuck his smug little desbelieving smile.

“Don’t gimme that look - you’re usually spotted around the globe with gorgeous people… ‘s it really wrong of me to assume that I wasn’t your type? Besides,” she starts, arms crossed around her middle while Atsumu takes a tentative step to close the gap between them. “It's not that it matters now since, y’know I know that it's not true.. Just hurt my feelings at the time and well…”

“You were supposed to be the smart one between us, got the college degree ‘n everythin.” He teases, arms reaching to rest on her waist. “For someone so smart you really missed all the signs huh? Why do you think I stepped in every time some guy tried to talk t’ya? Why d’ya think that I tried to take up all your weekend time, don’t get me wrong I love spendin’ time with ya but also didn’t wanna see you goin out with any guys you’d met when I wasn’t around.” By this point he’s got her chin in his hand, ducking his head slightly to make her look at him fully. “And why the hell would I eat you out at every possible opportunity once I’ve been given the okay? Just because I get thrown it all the time by others doesn’t mean that I eat out every -”

“Alright, alright. You can shut up now. I get it, I’m dumb. I just didn’t think -”

“Oh you got tha’ right - didn’t think at all did ya?” She groans, throwing her head back. She’ll never be able to get the image of his smug face out of her head, never going to be able to live down how for once in their years long friendship Atsumu was smarter than her. All he can do though is laugh, pulling her face back down to his and giving her forehead a soft kiss, making her stomach erupt with flutters.

“If you tell anyone about this conversation, I swear to god Miya I’ll-”

“Shh it’s always gotta be a threat with you huh? Why can’t you just admit that you were stupid for once?”

“Not happening.”

“Not even if it means you’re stupidly in like with me”

“No, because I’m not stupidly in like with you… I just adore your stupid self more than I’d ever admit in front of anyone else.”

He laughs, bumping his nose against her with a laugh before kissing her softly. Everything is great, life is great. Y/N loves Atsumu and Atsumu loves her, and she isn’t some sad, movie cliché any longer. She’s got this gorgeous guy who practically worships her, so freely giving himself to her. He pulls away from kissing her for a second, taking a moment to appreciate the way that her eyes are closed happily.

“Just so y’know… I adore you too.” Kiss. “But you are never allowed to call me stupid again… from now on I’m the smart one in this relationship.”

A/N pt2: and so that’s it hehe. thank you sm for reading I hope you enjoyed it. any little comments you have in the tags would be nice to read or yeah. this is my side blog so like hgjdgsh if I respond to you it’s gonna be from my main haha

[yandere-daydreams]

Hi! I wanted to say that I really love your blog! And you post so regularly like xhxjaj soo I hope I am doing this correctly bUT -how fucked up would be clumsy, student darling with schoolnurse yandere? You know, they say that he's really soft, nice and perfect for his job, but is he? or maybe the darling never actually was clumsy, but then why is she falling down the stairs so often~? Have a good day and take care! ❤❤

One day, I’m going to get tired of writing for faceless OCs before never thinking about them again. That day is not today. Assume this is, like, a fancy, private boarding school, so our Yandere will be able to afford to keep a Darling.

TW: Unintentional Drug Use and Emotional Manipulation.

~

You’ve been getting headaches, recently.

It was a minor inconvenience, honestly, something you shouldn’t have been fazed by. There were people in the hospital with terminal diseases, others lost limbs to illnesses, and here you were, complaining about a steady drumming somewhere in your skull, the pain just barely enough to make you grit your teeth and consider avoiding bright lights. But, it was still pain, very consistent, very intense pain. The kind that made your thoughts blur together and your movements sluggish, your craving for a dark, silent room quickly becoming greater than any you held for food or water. Maybe if they only lasted for a few minutes, you’d be able to brush it off, but you’d been through this too many times to be that optimistic. You’d have to skip your next class. The rest of the day, probably.

You’d have to see him again.

There wasn’t anything wrong with the school nurse, or... Bailey, as he insisted you call him. He was young, sure, only having graduated a couple years before you enrolled, but he was polite, and more than willing to accept poorly-forged passes and half-hearted excuses for any vague, temporary sickness students came to him with. You didn’t have a reason to lie, the pale pink slip in your hand genuine and unwanted, but as you pushed open the old, wooden door to his clinic, you almost wished you had something worse. An open wound, one bad enough to need stitches, or a knee-buckling, excruciating pain that let your instructors send you back to your dorm without a second thought. Instead, you were left to shift your weight and read the brightly-colored, informational posters hanging on every available surface, Bailey not seeming to care for plain walls.

It took Bailey a few seconds to notice you, the man preoccupied with something on his desk. The clinic was a cramped space, with just enough room for a table, a handful of cots and curtains, and a rolling chair that must’ve used up most of Bailey’s funding. You cringed as you took in the florescent lights, and that seemed to catch Bailey’s attention, his chair creaking as he twisted around to see you. You nodded politely as he took in your hunched posture and disheveled uniform, only to finish his evaluation with a simple nod. “(Y/n),” He greeted, already reaching towards one of the cabinets above his desk. “There should be an open cot near the back, lie down. Migraines again?”

“I don’t really need to. It‘s just a headache,” You explained, but your protests were barely audible. By the time you hauled yourself past him, you were ready to collapse, all-but throwing yourself onto the thin, cheap mattress. Your head was pounding, by now, a rhythm forming between the aches and throbs and red-hot bolts being driven into your skull. You curled into yourself as soon as you were able to, your dignity discarded in favor of blocking out the light and wallowing in your own self-pity. “Just a really, really bad headache. I shouldn’t have--”

“You shouldn’t have left class?” He chuckled, lightly, finding the pill bottle he was looking for. The container was the non-descript type, plain and colorless, with just the prescription’s name and a tablet count in boring, black ink. Your family had sent it, after they were told about your ‘issue’, even if you never told them about your little medical problem directly. You didn’t care enough to pry, though, not when you were desperate enough to need them. “You’re the only patient I have who wants to be stuffed inside a lecture hall, and something’s actually wrong with you! If I didn’t know you were such an academic, I’d be insulted.”

“I don’t want my grades to drop.” It was a pathetic excuse at keeping up the conversation, but Bailey just hummed, standing slowly and making his way to your cot. He was still smiling as he handed over the two thick, circular pills you were looking for, and you swallowed them down without hesitation, barely noticing the chalky residue they left on your tongue. You fell back onto your side as the pain began to reside, replaced by a cool, crisp exhaustion, one you welcomed without hesitation.

That was usually where Bailey took his leave, laughing and making a comment about your dependence before returning to paperwork and leaving you to your misery, but you weren’t alarmed when he took a seat at your side instead, a palm coming to rest on your shoulder. You couldn’t be, not really. You were too relieved to worry. “Such a little busy-body,” He started, his demeanor soft, gentle. It was nice, and you melted into it quickly. “All this is probably caused by stress, y’know. The headaches would probably go away if you took a break every now and then.”

You shook your head, weakly, and Bailey took to combing through your hair, pushing it away from your face. “I‘m not stressed… I like being busy. I’m used to it.”

“You like burning yourself out.” There was a slight tug, just strong enough to make you whimper and fight the temptation to push him back. Another laugh, this one much less hidden than the last. “You’re going to a university after you graduate, aren’t you?” You nodded, opening your mouth to clarify, but he continued before you had the chance to speak. He didn’t seem very interested in the specifics of your response. “More stress, honey, that’s more stress. And I’m not going to be here to take care of you, anymore.”

You frowned. More stress meant more headaches, more of this. Bailey still sounded happy, but you couldn’t tell if he was smiling. You were too tired to open your eyes. “Will it hurt?”

“Of course it’ll hurt. As long as I’m not there, everything will hurt.” He pulled away, leaving you to lazily search for his warmth. Luckily, Bailey only left you to suffer for a moment. Just as you considered pushing yourself up, an arm wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer to him and letting you rest your head in his lap, where he was free to stare at and play with whatever he’d like, and you could burrow into something soft, ignoring the apprehension beginning to surface inside your chest. The world was fuzzy and quiet and warm, and nothing could go wrong, not if you were in the clinic. “You’re a good kid, but you won’t behave, you won’t stop being such a try-hard unless someone else gives you a chance to. You need to relax, and let me handle this for you. The world is cold, and it’s brutal. You don’t want to be on your own in that kind of chaos, do you?”

Your reply came in the form of a wordless, abstract whine, this time, something dark and loving slowly taking over your consciousness. You weren’t falling asleep. You didn’t want to sleep. You wanted to be held and comforted and cared for, as long as it meant you didn’t have to move. That felt like a death sentence, now. How’d you gotten here without breaking?

Bailey’s voice was so sweet, too, with all the delicate, practiced inflections and tones of someone who’d done this many times before. That of a caretaker looking for his next project.

“All you have to do is leave the hard work to me,” He assured, cupping your cheek. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. “It’d be a shame if something bad had to happen to my favorite patient.”

[mvrtaiswriting]

Hello! I love your work and stuff, so I’ll just leave this here for now. Take your time btw! So anyways, Josuke with s/o who gets really down and is in need of cuddles? You can inspire it off of Golden Days by Panic! At the Disco. Josuke just reminding there s/o of happy thoughts and stuff! Please and thank you, have a lovely day! ^^

Golden Days. - Josuke Higashikata.

Helloo and sorry if this took way too long! CwC I do have an excuse: I’ve only recently started JJBA pt.4 so it was kinda hard for me to exaclty understand Josuke and be talh about him as accurately as possible! Anyway, this was fun and made me notice way more things about him so thank you very much for requesting him! I love P!ATD so your request was spot on. I hope it will meet your expectations. Enjoy! x

Ps: thank you for your compliments and I hope you’ll have a wonderful day too! xx

Neutral reader x Josuke

Jojo’s bizzare adventures: Diamond is Unbreakable 

SFW

Trigger warning: references to panic attacks, minor references to paranoia 

Words count: 1484

Hi! Are you a new reader? Check my masterlist for more content!

Please feel free to reblog or leave a comment :) help me support my art (it’s free!),

© bearing in mind everything I post/write is my intellectual property so please don’t steal/copy and paste and post it as yours.

It wasn’t unusual for you to lose yourself inside your own mind. Sometimes you would just zone out and wonder by the corridors of the labyrinth inside your head, falling into an infinite spiral of overthinking which wasn’t easy to escape. It was complicated to keep your paranoia under control; there were times in which you just couldn’t stop obsessing over a minor inconvenient happened to you, overthinking it enough to make it seem bigger than it really was, becoming anxious and hypervigilant as a consequence. And you hated it – you hated how your mind was able to control you in such a tricky way; you felt as if you were your own slave. Once crisis were over and you finally regained your so called ‘lucidity’ other emotions would take control of you; you’d start feeling stupid for making yourself go through all that suffering for something so silly, making you enter a loop of self denigration and severe self judgement. At times it would just be too much.

However, you were lucky enough to have Josuke by your side. The two of you had been together for some months and somehow he was perfectly able to save you from your own self. He always managed to put a smile on your face – he knew how to make you happy. Not that he was something that he had to plan ahead; it was just so natural for you to feel better whenever he was around. His smile, the way he managed to be so naïve yet so smart and mature at the same time just always enabled you to relax and feel better. His simple presence was enough to make you feel protected from both the outside world and the terrifying world that lived in your head.

Josuke never quite understood what really happened inside your mind whenever you’d have a crisis, and he learnt with time that the best thing he could do was simply listening to you. You were sure your thought process looked so indecipherable and nonsense to him, but he never pointed out. He would always be so supportive and would try his best to understand how you felt and your point of view – the last thing he wanted was to make you feel worse. He never judged you and he would always try to convince you that you should never feel ashamed of the way you felt. He was the first person to make you feel as if every little complicated emotion you felt was valid and wasn’t something that made you crazy, and you were just eternally glad to have him by your side.

Since the two of you started dating, you made some progress. Crisis became less usual and (most of the times) less intense than before, and with Josuke’s help, you were able to manage them better. His company had a major influence on you and on your overall state of mind, making your heart feel less heavy and filling your mind with wonderful memories – almost as if every moment you shared together somehow redecorated your mind, making it a bit less threatening and less uncomfortable than before.

However, this didn’t mean that crisis completely disappeared. You were playing videogames together in his living room when something just seemed to click in your mind. Although the enthusiasm shown by your boyfriend while playing, you just felt as if something just shut down. All of a sudden, you didn’t want to play anymore and felt as if you didn’t have any strength to push the buttons of your controller. That sensation led you to feel ungrateful and worthless. You started to think about how you ruined a perfect afternoon which your boyfriend was clearly enjoying, remembering all of the occasion something similar had happened. You thought he deserved way better than someone who’s broken and, like a hurricane, manages to destroy everything around them. These thoughts started to become louder and louder in your mind, as if a voice screamed at you about how you’d always stop Josuke from being happy. You tried your best to ignore it but you could only focus on how guilty you felt towards your boyfriend, and before realising it, tears started streaming down your face. Your cheeks became red as you ran your fingers through your air, starting to breathe heavily.

Josuke immediately noticed something was wrong, and he carelessly threw the controller away from him, turning to his side so he could face you.

He was visibly worried, yet he gently smiled at you as he delicately pulled you into his arms, kissing the top of your head. ‘Hey, hey..’ he said quietly, caressing your hair. 

‘What’s wrong?’

He questioned, looking at you while rubbing the tears off your face with his thumb. A small moment of silence settled down between you two. ‘It’s okay, I’m here. Breathe with me, mh?’ he whispered gently. He took your hands in his and, looking at you, he helped you normalising the pace of your breath. You followed the movement of his strong shoulders as he breathed, slowly relaxing yourself.  

‘I’m sorry. I always do this. I ruin every moment we get to spend together. You deserve better.’ 

You sniffed, hiding your face in his chest – not being able to bear any type of eye contact. ‘Hey! I thought I was the funny one!’ he said jokingly, leaving a cute kiss on the tip of your nose. You smiled weakly, shaking your head in disagreement. ‘You make me so happy. And in this regard.. I want you to see something!’ 

He continued, standing up from the couch and going to his bedroom. A few minutes later, when he came back to you, he was holding a little box in his hands.

You looked at him in confusion, while he goofily smiled at you, blushing. He sat next to you, putting his arms around your body and letting your back rest on his chest. He took advantage of this position to leave a kiss on your cheek. ‘Open it!’ he said, raising his tone in excitement.

You held the little square box in your hands for a bit, observing it. It was made of rough wood, probably crafted by hand by your lover. On the top of it, a writing made with a red marker pen said ‘Golden Days’. You opened the box only to reveal a pile of Polaroids of you, Josuke and some of your friends, taken in particular days of which you had a wonderful memory of – you could vividly remember the happy and how light-hearted you felt in those days. As you leafed through the pictures, Josuke would happily start talking about the day they represented.

‘Do you remember this day? We were on my uncle’s yacht!’ 

He said, pointing at a picture you were holding in your hand.

‘How can I forget? The air was sauna hot and you complained all day about how the temperature was ruining your hair!’ You said laughing, as your boyfriend started to tickle your waist. ‘HEY!’ he screamed. ‘My hair is a serious issue and you know it!’ he continued, as he tickled you more as if he was trying to punish you. He knew you couldn’t resist it and soon enough your laugh filled the room, followed by his. When he finally stopped, Josuke looked at you for a few seconds before showering you with kisses while you tried your best to keep looking at the polaroids without getting too distracted.

‘I didn’t know you had this box!’ you said, feeling way better than you did minutes before. 

‘I had it for a while, and decided you needed one of this too.’ he answered seriously, while moving your hair from your face.  ‘If I’m not there, I want you to have something for when you feel as if the light begins to fade.’ He continued, leaving a soft kiss on your temple.

After hearing those words, you couldn’t help but smile. He had his own, simple way to make you happy – and he never failed at it. Somehow, he was capable to make your heart and your mind to feel completely at peace, gifting you of special moments when things weren’t so complicated. You turned around to face Josuke, putting your hands on his chest and leaning on him for a kiss. As you did so, he smiled too, letting one of his hand gently running up and down your back. 

‘Thanks.’ you whispered as you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. In response, Josuke let out a tender laugh. 

‘I love you, (Y/N). This is the least I can do.’ he replied, never stopping from cuddling you.

The two of you remained like this for a while, enjoying each other’s attentions and delicate touch.

[heartfulofsighs]

Baggage Claim Part 8

Description: Seunghoon back from a business trip only has a mind for growing his company. You are in the middle of running from the by the book life that was drowning you. When a minor inconvenience sets you in his path will you be the reason he eases up? And could he be what you need to get serious again

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 

Thanks to everyone who has given me such kind compliments about this story. It really means a lot. This part is more domestic then anything and I really enjoy it. Here’s hoping our two love birds stay this rosy lol. @negrowhat​ Always the most thanks to you for being my forever sounding board. 

He looked down at the picture on his phone for the millionth time. His day had started out with a lot of promise. Seungyoon had sent a long email chocked full of actually very good ideas for his new factory opening. His other smaller accounts were going well also. But he still felt...lost, scared, and a little bit annoyed. You hadn’t called him back. He stared down harder at his phone. Was it something he had said? Was he too clingy? What could he have possibly done to put you off? He thought back to holding you. You had tucked your head under his chin while you watched tv and talked. It had all felt so ideal. He scratched his chin as he put his phone down, he must have been wrong, he must have missed something. “Hey grumpy.” 

He looked up to see Mino standing in his doorway, sucking on a lollipop. Instead of being more annoyed he shrugged and leaned back in his office chair. “You know, you aren’t exactly a ray of sunshine on most days but today you’re especially stormy.” He pulled the candy from his mouth his face full of concern, “is everything ok?” He asked. Hoon toyed with the idea of brushing him off, minimizing his feelings because logically he was being irrational. He leaned forward towards his desk and muttered, “she hasn’t called me, texted me, anything since we went to the club.” He said clearly. Mino came into the room, each stepped measured until he sat across from Seunghoon in the other chair. “Maybe she’s just been busy?” He suggested. “I mean she’s from another country, maybe something’s come up for her back home?” He tried. “That’s true.” Hoon granted softly. He swallowed suddenly feeling so selfish for not thinking of that possibility. “I just wish,” he started before he stopped to rub his head, “I wish that I didn’t care.” He finished his voice much lower than before. It would truly be a fling if he didn’t care. If he could brush off your silence then it would all be so much easier. Mino grinned, his face morphing back to it’s usual one of mischief. He had no idea how deep Hoon’s crisis was. He leaned forward. “I think it’s cute that you care. I’ve never seen you so broken up over a girl…” “I’m not broken up.” He snapped. “Overly touchy?” Mino tried. He rolled his eyes and decided not to answer.    “Do you wanna eat?” He asked. A change of subject and scenery would probably be good for him. He needed to refocus on what he had to do for work. He didn’t have time to worry over… His phone buzzed to life. He looked down at the screen, a message from a number he didn’t know across the screen. He read it out loud relief coloring his voice with every word.    “Sorry, I smashed my phone after you dropped me off. Yeah lunch sounds good but can we make it tomorrow?” The message read. He let out a long sigh and Mino laughed at him.    “All that fuss…” He started in between giggles, “and it was because she’s a little clumsy.” He laughed harder. Seunghoon found himself smiling with him. The joy that the explanation was so simple filled his chest. You hadn’t gotten tired of him in the span of a night. You had just smashed your phone. He waited for Mino to calm down before asking again, “do you wanna eat?” “Yeah, the new mall they built down the way has an amazing food court.” He suggested. He started on his lollipop again with a more thoughtful face, “I wanna try the gourmet noodle place they have there.” He said. “Fine,” Hoon stood up and started to brush off his pants, “then back to work.” He said. “Awww there’s my taskmaster.” Mino copied his motion, standing tall and stretching.

   “Tell me everything you want to tell me.” Cherry had been so calm when you finally got home from Seunghoon’s house. She was calm but you felt like a bottled storm. Talking about him didn’t help. It felt like lightening strikes in your heart describing how the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. There was no way you could pull off the “long tease,” like she advised. It happened fast and it was wonderful. You told her all of it but held the part back that made you feel so...odd. When you were done Cherry must have felt something was shifting for you, changing. She spared making you explain.    “Well this is a lot to digest,” she had said.    “I know, I’m still…” you swallowed and the storm felt like it was churning in your stomach. Making your hands shake and your throat dry. Cherry had said something, maybe she wanted to get started on dinner or she had somewhere to be and then you were alone. You laid on your bed and sighed. You wanted someone to tell you what was a good idea and what was a bad one. Apparently you weren’t doing too well. You hadn’t left home to fall in love. You put your hands over your face and tried to block the word out. Not love, not with a guy who you just met, who you just slept with, who you had gone on two dates with. You couldn’t be in love with him and that’s why it felt like there were thunderstorms raging in you.    “Should have just given him the bag and forgotten about him.” You whispered softly to yourself. But that would have been too simple and if you were being honest too boring. You took your hands off of your face and stared at the ceiling. Your heart was hammering but not in the bad way it did when you were home. In fact the storm raging was scary but it wasn’t the feeling that you ran away from. You decided to wait and see because what else could you do?

The next day you smashed your phone. It seemed to happen in slow-mo. Pulling it from your pocket, the smooth black device slipping free from your hand and sailing between the stairs to its doom. The sound it made on the concrete made you wince. You stood on the landing in disbelief and of course the first thing you thought of was, “how am I gonna text Hoon?” He had sent you a text yesterday that you hadn’t replied to yet. He was going to think you were ignoring him or playing some stupid hard to get type game. It was only after you freaked out about that did you even consider how your mother was going to call you, or any of your friends. You didn’t move from your spot on the landing not until Cherry came out.    “What happened? I thought you said you were going to mail your mom that letter?” She asked.    “I dropped my phone,” you responded in a complete monotone. “What the hell am I gonna do?” You whispered.    “We could go to the mall? And get a new cheap one?” She suggested.    “I won’t have anyone’s number,” you scratched at your arm, “god I’m so stupid…” She took your hand and started to lead you down the stairs, her face all patience.    “Just take a breath. We’ll get it all fixed.” She said.    “This is gonna blow my budget,” you complained.    “Maybe we’ll find an older model that isn’t too bad,” she tried, “and you’ll just have to put up a post on your social media asking people for their numbers.” It all sounded so simple once she laid the steps out.    “And I’m sure Seunghoon has an office number posted on google or something, we can call there and get his cell,” she turned just as the two of you finished the last step. There was a pretty sizable smile on her face, “cause I know that’s who you’re really worried about contacting.” You couldn’t even argue with her.    The train ride down to the mall was quick. You had been in the city long enough to recognize you were near Hoon’s building. Your heart picked up a little.    “This place is brand new.” Cherry told you while she looked through her purse, “we’ll go to the phone store then grab lunch?” She pulled out a chapstick and looked at you for confirmation.    “Yeah that sounds fine.” You said, “and can we get something sweet?” You added.    “Like frozen yogurt?” She applied the chapstick liberally before leaning back in her seat, “oh I wanna look in the new home goods store they have too.” She said, “I want some potted plants.” She made a thoughtful face, “for the kitchen, or maybe the living room.” She added. She pulled out her phone and showed you how she might want to set the kitchen up. Talking about something mundane kept you from worrying about your phone and how much a new one could cost. It was a nice little break.

He ate his noodles and watched all the movement in the food court. People flowed back then forth through the new building, shopping bags in hand, faces beaming. It was gorgeous inside, all gleaming floors and modern shops. Everything felt upscale, even the food court. He wondered who had done the advertising for the opening?   “The noodles are good?” Mino asked as he slurped. Hoon nodded, he was nearly finished with his bowl. His mind now fully focused on work. You had texted him, he would see you, that was all he had cared about. “So, where are you planning on taking her for lunch tomorrow?” Mino asked. He drank the broth from his bowl then set it down, “you have to take her somewhere nice,” “I’m going to.” Hoon insisted. He leaned his head on his hand and sighed, “or maybe I’ll just cook for her.” “You can’t cook.” Mino pointed out on a snort. “I can try.” He argued. “You just want her at your apartment,” he leaned forward, “you just want a little afternoon...treat.” “Shut-up.” He snapped. But that wasn’t such a bad thought either. Suddenly he was picturing it. Making you something nice, smiling at you from the other side of his table, then delicately getting up and closing the distance. Hand on your cheek, leaning down to kiss you. “Well back to work I guess.” He blinked, the sound of Mino’s voice butting right into his daydream. He stared at him barely able to contain his annoyance.    “Yeah, I guess,” he granted. He had work and recipes to look up. Mino stood and adjusted his jacket. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and managed to produce another lollipop. “When did you start eating candy so much?” Hoon pushed his chair in genuinely curious. They walked out of the fancy noodle place into the crowd of new shoppers. “Haven’t you ever heard of an oral fixation?” Mino laughed, dodging around a small group of older ladies. “Since when have you had that?” He stopped walking suddenly struck by two people coming out of a jewelry store. He cocked his head, it definitely was you. You and another girl arm in arm, bright smiles on your faces. He started out towards you two without a word to Mino. The other girl saw him first. She stopped abruptly and pulled you up short with her, “sorry, sir we’re having sort of a girl’s day, we aren’t interested.” She said quickly. You laughed a little at her and shook your head.            “Cherry,” your voice wasn’t quite a whisper, “this is Seunghoon.” Her eyes widened. She put her hand over her mouth and made what he thought sounded like a squealing sound.       “Nice to meet you.” He said to her before he turned his attention to you completely.        “So this is where you came for your new phone?” He watched you nod. Mino has reached the group, lollipop in his mouth         “What a coincidence,” he commented around his candy.         “Did you guys do a little shopping?” He peered down at Cherry, “I’m Mino, you must be the friend?” He beamed, “there’s always a really nice friend…”           “Cherry, it’s nice to meet you.” She extended her hand. They shook but these were small details to Hoon.           “What kind of phone did you get?” He asked. You pulled a small black phone from your pocket and showed it off, “I had to get a little cheap one so I wouldn’t blow my budget.” He looked it over more critically then he meant to. He wasn’t trying to judge, he was just concerned about being able to be in touch with you.    “It’s nice.” He finally got out.    “Well,” Mino began, “we left a lot of work at the office…” His hand patted Hoon on the back. He realized that he had just been standing watching you. He cleared his throat, “yeah, I guess I have to get going.”    “But I’ll see you tomorrow right?” You asked him. The smile on your face sent his heart going a million miles an hour. He nodded, “yes, for lunch.” His answer satisfied you. Cherry waved as the two of you started to walk away “nice meeting you!” She called.    “Wow, it really is like fate with you two,” Mino draped his arms over his shoulders and began to walk him towards their exit, “everywhere you go there she is.”    “I’ve never been so lucky.” Hoon agreed.

   “So what are you going to wear to lunch?” The two of you were walking your way back from the train station. Still arm in arm. She seemed almost giddy about your date with Seunghon. Seeing him at the mall had fueled her talk about fate and people being destined. You didn’t have the heart to stop her but you tried not to let the talk get to you head. A fling a fling a fling. Cherry stopped herself short of saying love most of the way but when she got close you felt the storm cloud in your stomach again.    “Just jeans Cherry, he said it wasn’t going to be anywhere fancy.” You didn’t mean to sound whiny but there it was.    “We can look at options when we get home.” She satisfied herself with her answer and went silent for the rest of your walk. It wasn’t until you got back into your apartment that she spoke up, “I have a really cute crop top that would look good with jeans.”    “Can we try on stuff later?” You tried. You didn’t have the energy to try on one piece of clothing then another.    “I should probably call my mom.” You untangled your am from hers, “just to let her know that I’ve handled the phone thing.”    “Oh yeah, no problem.” Cherry rubbed her arm and sighed, “I should probably check and see if I have any job emails. I’ve been neglecting that inbox.” She said on a laugh. The silence in your room was jarring. Once again here were your thoughts whispering to you how much of a bad idea seeing Hoon continuously was. In the mall you thought your heart was going to beat its way out of your chest. You had barely registered Mino was with him. That was bad right? To be so focused on one person when you had no business forming ties? You sat on your bed and tried once again not to think about it. You dialed your mother’s number and listened to the ringing noise with all your concentration.    “Hello?”    “Mom it’s me!” You waited for her to process.    “Baby? What number is this?” She asked. You could imagine the look of confusion on her face.    “ I smashed my phone and had to get another one.” You explained, “save this number ok?”    “Smashed your phone? Oh my god, you said you were being careful out there…” An eyeroll, you were sure her eyes were rolling.    “It was an accident.” You said. You swallowed the storm clouds making their way up your throat.    “Besides your phone how’s it going out there?” She asked. You flopped down onto your bed.    “Fine.” You kicked your legs in frustration, “everything’s fine.”    “You sure baby?” She didn’t sound convinced. You closed your eyes, “positive, I’m having fun. This time off was just what I needed.” She paused and you thought you were caught. Well you hoped you had been caught, if she pried it would be like opening a floodgate. The storm would erupt from you and maybe then she could tell you if what you were doing was the stupidest-    “I’m so glad you’re feeling better baby.” She said.You clamped your mouth shut and nodded as if she was there to see it. “Because that’s all I wanted...I really wanted you to feel better.”

Technically you didn’t feel worse then when you had first left home. You did feel very different, the crushing feeling was gone. That was old news. You felt alive and more vibrant than you ever had back home. Cherry couldn’t help you get dressed like she wanted. There were actually a few jobs waiting in her inbox that you convinced her to take. They sounded right up her alley and they paid well.    “It couldn’t hurt to go.” You had said.    “I guess you’re right. I haven’t done too much since I’ve been sick...and I want some new booties.” She had fluffed her hair and put on lipstick in the mirror while she talked.    “You’ll be ok catching the train down there?” She asked.    “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry.”  You assured her, “two trains then two blocks and I’m there.” You reiterated.    “Good, have fun, tell me everything when you get home.”            “Will do.” You handed her keys over.            “You have some condoms in your purse right?”  She stopped just short of the door to ask you.    “Cherry...really?” You shook your head surprised but not really surprised. “Lunch at his house...don’t act like you didn’t think about a little afternoon delight.” She wriggled her eyebrows at you before turning to go, “better safe than sorry.” She said as she opened the door to leave. You watched her go without another word. Two trains then two blocks and you were walking up to his building. You thought you looked nice, a pink crop top, your more shapely jeans nothing too daring. He had obviously told the doorman that you were coming. The small man stood up quickly and walked towards the bank of elevators. “Good Afternoon, floor 15 for you ma’am?” He asked. You nodded and he  pressed the button for you, “have a good day.” He said before he pulled his arm back quick enough to let the doors close. You stared at yourself in the elevator door’s reflection and sighed. Did it look like you had tried too hard? You turned one way then the other, maybe the crop top was a bad idea? You put your hand over the sliver of your tummy that was exposed, maybe too much skin? The elevator dinged and you realized you didn’t have time to worry. When the door opened Hoon was there leaning against the far wall. He was looking down at his phone, chewing his lip as he scrolled. “Hey.” You stepped off the elevator. He looked at you and smiled brightly. There went your heart. It thudded hard in your chest as he got closer. He shoved his phone into his back pocket to free up his hands. It felt like you were watching him move in slow motion. He raised his arms and very gently took your face in his hands. His thumb stroked your cheek and it felt like he was studying you, taking you all in. Your heart somehow got louder as he leaned down. “You look really cute.” He said softly before he pecked you on the lips and let you go. He took your hand instead and started to lead you down the hall like it was the most normal thing. “I hope you like pasta,” he walked at an even pace down the carpeted hallway, “well pasta with shrimp.” He added, “because making meatballs didn’t work out for me.” “I like both,” you granted. He stopped at one of the last doors and entered the code. It beeped and he pulled you inside. This time you actually got to look around. He had good taste, simple but with hints of color throughout. It was bright in the living room and you could see the kitchen with all it’s perfect stainless steel appliances. You had been here before. Been ushered through this room before and down the hallway to the right. While he was trying his best to unzip your dress and you were whining at him because you wanted to keep kissing him. He stood patiently until you were done with your shoes, “sit at the table, the noodles are almost done boiling. Then I just have to combine everything.”     “How long did it take you?” You followed him to the kitchen, “all morning?”    “Well I may or may not have tried making the sauce for the first time last night.” He stood in front of the stove, “but some things...didn’t exactly go my way…” He admitted. “But you were determined,” you stood next to him and peered around his shoulder. It all smelled good. You were actually pretty proud of him, it looked like he had gone through a lot of effort.   “Yeah, once I started I couldn’t give up.” He picked up a big wooden spoon. “Plus I knew I was on the right track because this sauce smelled much better.” He stated proudly. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “You taste tested it too right?” You asked. He dipped the spoon into the sauce and started to float it towards your face, his hand tucked under it just incase it dripped. You blew a little on it before you tasted it. It was good, thankfully you didn’t have to fake the “yum” that came out of your mouth. “It’s good?” He asked. “Really good.” You said.  

He had in his mind how he wanted everything to go. He would wow you with his cooking skills, then wow you again with his conversation skills, then, when you were all happy and full he even had a present for you. His plan purposely did not include touching you, because he realized the danger of it. But the not touching you part had gone out the window as soon as he saw you step off the elevator. He had to at least peck you, there wasn’t any danger in that really. Mostly. He combined the shrimp and the sauce just like he had seen in the video he watched. You were close to his side, watching. “Do you wanna get out the garlic butter and the french bread?” He asked. “It’s in the fridge.” He said. You moved immediately without a word. Sauce, shrimp, then drain the pasta- “Seunghoon.” He turned to the sound of your voice. “It’s on the second shelf,” You were staring at the photo of yourself that had fallen out of your suitcase when Mino opened it. “How did you get this?” You asked. You pulled it from magnet confused, “this is from my birthday two years ago?” You said. He swallowed, his heart in his throat as he tried to come up with what to say. “Man, this was such a good day, look how happy I am.” You didn’t sound upset. It was more like you couldn’t believe it was you. “Mino opened your suite case to see if there was anyway to tell where you were staying,” he started. “And the picture fell out?” You finished. “I found it under my couch, after we had given each other’s bags back,” He turned the burner down on the stove before he faced you completely, “I was under the impression that I would never see you again and I didn’t want to throw it away. So I kept it there...I’m sorry.” He was praying that you weren’t upset. You sighed as you looked at yourself before you put the photo back in place right next to the photo strip from the boardwalk. “You don’t have to be sorry.” You said, then you were opening the fridge as if nothing was wrong. He watched you get the bread and the butter out to set on the counter. You cut the loaf in half effortlessly then started to spread the butter. “I guess when you saw me at the beer booth it was a bit of a shock.” You said. He turned back to the stove, relieved that you were talking again. “I thought I was seeing things.” He said, “but then there you were saying that ugly tagline, under that god awful picture of the genie.” He laughed and you laughed with him. “Imagine having to say that the whole night.” You said, “but I guess it worked out to be a good thing.” “Because here we are.” He said as he stirred. He walked over to your side of the kitchen and pulled out the strainer, “the video mentioned something about al dente...which I think means harder noodles?” “I’ll eat them either way.” You said as an answer, “I’m not picky.”   He didn’[t need to direct you when it came to the bread. You got the over started and put the loaf in by yourself. That freed you up to watch him carefully strain the noodles. “Make sure you shock it with cold water.” You said. “Ok,” He turned the faucet on cold, “go sit, I’ll serve you.” He said. You stayed by his side ignoring the instruction and he didn’t want to fight you. He got two servings together while you pulled the french bread out. He even had enough spring mix for salad. When the two of you did finally sit down it was together. “I don’t have wine,” He realized flatly. “Pour me some juice then, it’s no big deal.” You said. He did with a small smile because this was the only thing you allowed him to serve you. When he sat down again and looked across at you he felt that same warm feeling he felt when he woke up and you were in his arms. You were eating, laughing, smiling. He couldn’t help but notice it was almost as big as the picture on the fridge. He felt more proud of that then the food turning out well. He had done that hadn’t he? He could claim that smile as an accomplishment. The more he looked at you eating across from him, the more he was certain that this wasn’t casual at all. This had to be love.

[herohawks]

Five times Connor is forced to call Hank “dad”. They both suffer.

A/N: short little snippets im writing while my wrist is out of commission. dont know if im going to post them to ao3 since  kinda crack-ish lmao. feel free to send me prompts.

---

PART 1

“Remind me again why we agreed to this shit?”

Connor hefts a box onto his shoulder and balances another on his hip. Hank is struggling to carry one. The bottom of the cardboard is not taped adequately to withstand the current weight. Hank had been the one to tape this particular box, but Connor thinks it best not to point this out.

“We agreed to take the case because we are one of the few within the DPD who specialize in android-human crime. And, as Captain Fowler pointed out, our particular skill sets will allow us to infiltrate this group much easier than our other coworkers,” Connor says as he leads the way to the front door of their new home.

Hank snorts, uneven steps following not far behind. “Skill sets. Yeah. That what they’re calling it these days?”

“That’s what the captain called it, yes.” Connor deftly switches the box on his hip to his knee, balancing it between his leg and the wall so he can fish out the house key the captain had entrusted to him.

The key latches in easily and Connor swings the door open with little fanfare. He allows Hank to go first under the guise of trying to get a better grip on the box he’s currently holding over his knee. The structural integrity of Hank’s box is nearly at its limit.

“Well,” Hank huffs, dropping the box onto the living room floor with a muffled thump. Connor sets his down much more gently. “Jeffrey has always been too nice for his own good, so I’m gonna set it to you straight. You look like a goddamned twink and Jeffrey thinks your scrawny ass will fit in real well with these other skinny, starving college kids. I’m here to make sure you don’t screw it up.”

Connor looks to the ceiling and sighs. It’s a mannerism he’s picked up from Detective Reed that he quite likes. It accurately and efficiently sums up what he wishes to convey with little effort on his part.

“I am not ‘scrawny’,” Connor says, a tad defensive. “Second, the term ‘twink’ is widely outdated and carries negative conn—“

“Connor. Do me a favor and shut the fuck up.” Hank stretches his back, then groans loudly when it pops. “Jesus, I’m too old for this shit.”

“You only carried one box,” Connor points out helpfully, twirling the key ring on his finger for lack of anything better to do with his hands. He itches to go bring in the other nine boxes stacked in Hank’s car.

Hank rolls his eyes so hard Connor is briefly worried that they’ll fall out their sockets. “Jesus Christ. Just – go get the other boxes, would ya?”

Connor does, and makes good time. Hank grumbles while unpacking the boxes, throwing things in a haphazard manner that must have some sort of logic to it, though it’s not one that Connor can decipher at a glance.

With Hank’s back turned to him, Connor takes the chance to run a quick scan. The lieutenant’s blood sugar is low, and Connor detects a minor muscle strain in his lower back from poor posture and lack of adequate hydration.

They still need to go grocery shopping, but Connor had packed a few granola bars and water bottles just in case. He digs them out of one of the boxes and kneels down beside Hank to hand them over. “You need to eat, Lieutenant.”

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, snatching the water and energy bar from Connor. He sets it aside so Connor leaves him be and goes to unpack the other boxes.

They settle into an easy rhythm. An hour later, Connor hears the telltale crinkle of the protein bar being unwrapped and wisely says nothing when Hank’s mood significantly improves from that point after.

What probably felt like an eternity for Hank but was in actuality three hours and thirty-two minutes, they’re finally finished settling in. Connor is pleased to note everything is where it needs to be when he does a cursory scan of the rooms. Despite Hank’s grumbling, they make a great team.

“Great work, Lieutenant,” Connor says as he comes back into the living room where Hank is currently lounging on the couch. “It seems like everything is in order.”

Hank scoffs. “Don’t act so surprised.” A pause. “And it’s not ‘Lieutenant’ right now. Don’t blow our cover.”

“You’re right. Sorry, Dad.” The moment the sentence leaves his vocal unit, a heavy silence stretches between them. Connor has a peculiar urge to exit the room and not return for maybe forever.

“Okay. That was fucking weird,” Hank says finally, breaking the tense hush that had fallen over the room. He runs a hand over his beard, eyes flicking around but never settling on one thing for long.

Connor feels some of the tenseness in his shoulders melt away at the implication that Hank, too, may be feeling some measure of awkwardness. “I agree.”

“Shit. We need to get our shit together before we’re seen in public.”

“It’ll take some getting used to,” Connor admits, and runs a finger along the outer seam of his jeans. They’re not as comfortable nor as flexible as the pants CyberLife had issued him, but it’s currently the style preference of many young adults, and Connor has to blend in. He still misses his own pants, though.

“Want to go grab a bite and forget this ever happened?” Hank asks as he pulls himself up from the couch with a grunt.

Connor does. “Yes. I would like that.”

Hank makes a valiant effort to throw his crumpled wrapper into the small waste bin set along the floor separating the kitchen and living room. He misses. Connor quietly goes over and places the wrapper in the bin.

“Thanks. Hey, don’t forget your glasses,” Hank says and Connor can’t help but wrinkle his nose. Hank laughs. “What, not a fan?”

“You know I’m not,” Connor says, a little cross. Nevertheless, he unhooks it from his shirt and puts them on. They constantly slip down the bridge of his nose. “It’s impractical.”

Hank does not care about his suffering. “It’s your disguise so quit complaining. You’re not the only one who had to make some changes.”

The lieutenant scruffs a self-conscious hand over his freshly cut hair. It’s shorn short with the top a little longer – it looks good, Connor thinks. Makes him appear younger and highlighting the blues of his eyes.

Connor’s glasses, on the other hand, do not look good. They’re clunky and annoying, and Connor thinks they sit awkwardly on his face. The urge to snap them in half is strong.

“They look fine,” Hank says with the tone of someone who’s said this many, many times, which he has. Connor does not believe him any of those times. “Hurry up. I’m starving.”

“Fine.” Connor is getting better at expressing his displeasure through his tone, but Hank tends to ignore this new development as he does with anything he finds inconvenient.

They decide to walk. More accurately, Connor decides that if they’re going to order something unhealthy, they can, at the very least, walk there. Hank is not pleased. Connor doesn’t care.

  A mile and a half later, a small lot with a few food trucks parked in a messy half-circle comes into view. Hank makes a beeline for the hotdog truck so Connor trails behind him. Hank orders a hotdog with only one topping at Connor’s insistence, and Connor buys a small vanilla milkshake to maintain appearances.

  The lot is very crowded, but they manage to snag a table near the sidewalk and away from most of the congested foot-traffic. There’s a light drizzle so Connor pops open the umbrella attached to the table. The atmosphere reminds him of their meeting at the Chicken Feed all those months ago, when Hank had been skeptical and Connor had been apologetic and insistent.

  That had been one of their first, positive conversations. It’s a fond memory, one that Connor keeps tucked away in his memory files for safekeeping.

  “So,” Hank says, snapping Connor out of his musings. “Excited about your first day of school tomorrow?” Hank is grinning so Connor levels him with an unimpressed look. “What? A father can’t have a healthy interest in his son’s education?”

  Connor sets his plastic cup down firmly. “No.”

  “Don’t be like that,” Hank laughs and Connor shakes his head, rubbing his fingers along his temple in a gesture he’s seen Hank do many times.

  His fingers stutter over the place where his LED used to be, the synthetic skin smooth to the touch. He feels oddly naked without it. Vulnerable. He wouldn’t mind the glasses half as much if he could just have his LED back.

  Something must show on his face because Hank’s smile fades a few seconds later, replaced with a worried expression. “Hey, kid. You alright?”

  “Fine,” Connor says a touch too quickly. Hank’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly unconvinced. He runs a finger one more time over his temple before placing it back on the table. “Nervous, maybe.”

  “Hmm. About school?” The way he says it implies he is talking about something else. Connor believes he is inquiring about their current undercover case, so he nods. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll be fine. You’re smart, and a fast learner. You’ll fit right in.”

  Connor has his doubts. While he’s done extensive research into the university as well as updating his human integration program to include the most recent pop culture and dialect, Connor can’t help the uneasiness that settles in the pit of his stomach. Maybe Hank is right. Perhaps this is beyond their capabilities.

  Connor keeps silent and pretends to sip his milkshake.

College is…an experience.

Connor takes the automated bus despite Hank’s insistence he drive him there. The walkways are constantly flooded with harried students and Connor finds himself having to fight the crowd more often than not.

He observes that many of his peers carry some type of overly-caffeinated beverage on them at all times (there had been a memorable moment when Connor’s sensors had picked up vodka disguised as water in someone’s water bottle, but he’d kept the information to himself). After this observation, Connor stopped by the local coffee shop on campus to purchase a small, black coffee. It reminds him of Hank.

His classes had been fairly boring, but Connor supposes that is to be expected. Hank had told him university was probably going to be uninteresting to an android that could calculate over a thousand possible scenarios in two seconds. Connor had promptly told him it actually takes him an average of 0.53 seconds to compute those scenarios, which had resulted in Hank scuffing him across the head.

Connor, despite his reservations, slots into college life seamlessly. Finding the group responsible for the android hate crimes disguised as hazing is almost too simple. They arrest the group three months later once he’s obtained the proper amount of evidence, plus some. Connor wishes they’d at least make it a challenge.

Overall, a success.

“Good job on your first undercover op,” Hank says over dinner.

Here, Connor doesn’t have to pretend to eat. He hadn’t realized how exhausting it is to pretend to be human. His LED is firmly reinstalled, and Connor brings his fingers up to brush it periodically, the familiar ridges soothing.

Sumo lies by their feet, tail thumping happily every time Connor or Hank looks his way. The Saint Bernard had missed them dearly in their four months apart.

“Thank you.” Connor is pleased with the results. His whole body feels warm, but jittery at the same time, like he has excess energy that can’t be contained. He bounces his leg, he twiddles his fingers, and shifts his posture every few seconds. “I’m glad we were able to bring them to justice.”

“Nah,” Hank says after swallowing a bite of his vegetarian stir-fry (Connor’s making, of course). “You’re just happy you don’t have to wear those dorky glasses anymore.”

“So you agree, then. That they looked bad.” Connor feels betrayed. Hank had told him they’d looked fine. Hank is a filthy liar.

Hank snorts and shovels more food into his mouth before replying. “What’d you do with them anyway?” Avoiding Connor’s sort-of question.

Connor rolls his shoulders in a self-satisfied way, and shoots Hank a sly grin. “On the record, I disposed of them in the appropriate recycling bin. Off the record, they may have ended up in a bonfire at the last party I attended as a college student.”

Hank barks a laugh and slaps the table. Connor smiles, too. “Shit,” Hank says, wiping his eyes. “You make me proud, kid.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell ya what, though. Having you call me ‘dad’ for four months was probably the most awkward four months of my life. As long as we don’t gotta do that shit again, I can die happy,” Hank says, taking a sip of his water.

Connor nods. “Agreed.”

[phgq]

Renewed faith: Tale of a Covid-19 survivor

#PHnews: Renewed faith: Tale of a Covid-19 survivor

DAVAO CITY – If there's one thing positive about surviving the coronavirus disease (Covid-19) other than being alive, it is the renewed faith in God and in our fellowmen. This, according to Dean Ortiz, the spokesperson of the Department of Public Works and Highways in Region 11 (DPWH-11) who, until his positive test result for Covid-19 on Oct. 27, thought he was "very careful" enough not to contract the dreaded virus. For one, Ortiz heads the DPWH-11 Covid-19 Coordinating Group, ensuring health protocols are practiced across the organization and its linkages. He said nothing was more terrifying when a supposedly good Tuesday morning filled with positive energy was broken by a Viber message with an attached screenshot of a document with his name on it, in a screaming red, all in capital letters: "POSITIVE". “I guess what happened to me was leadership-by-example personified,” Ortiz said, adding that up until he spoke to the Philippine News Agency on Sunday, his exposure had not been traced to any person or group of individuals. “I underwent an RT-PCR test along with some colleagues on October 27. It wasn't really required because I didn't have any symptoms, to begin with. It was more of an act of leadership mixed with a bit of smugness and confidence, as I always thought of myself as the last person on earth to catch the virus,” he recounted. Ortiz said he was "very careful," especially in his line of duty, and especially because he has a family to take care of. Hours after his diagnosis, he was picked up at home by a van with a crew clad in full Covid-19 protective equipment, he said. Leaving his house with a blank thought, Ortiz said he felt weird sitting at the back of an unlit van where he can only hear the occasional thud, the van's engine, and human voices of the faceless crew. “No facial expressions to draw emotions from, as if emotions had a place in the uncertainty I was faced with. The sound of my own heartbeat was very reassuring and I found myself saying a prayer,” he said.

The patient care center where Dabawenyo Dean Ortiz was put in isolation after contracting the coronavirus in late October 2020. He describes the area as as a well-lit facility, albeit the surroundings were pitch-black. (Photo from Dean Ortiz's Facebook Page)

 Filled with fear, he entered a patient care center that he described as a well-lit facility "but everything around was pitch-black." He said the scene was straight out of a post-apocalyptic movie—dark, cold, terrifying, surreal. “I declared that this was where God wanted me to be, where I will get the help I need, recover, and do some introspection. Whether I like it or not, I am no longer my old self. This experience has changed me already and I intend to come out of it bent in places, but definitely not broken,” Ortiz said. Hope, resentment As soon as he told everyone the news, he said he received a string of calls, social media posts, and private messages that were encouraging and sympathetic. “Some told me to stay strong, to leave everything to God, and not lose hope. Others were not so kind, their words full of resentment, blame, just a tad short of "good riddance." I felt violated and weighed down by insults,” Ortiz shared. In his line of work, however, Ortiz said he learned to be patient and tune out negative things. “I’m used to being called a lot of things. Name it, I've heard it. In from one ear, out from the other side. But in my delicate state, I couldn't help taking offense at the vitriol that was being thrown at me from all sides,” he admitted. "People aren’t crazy enough to get the disease intentionally. I remember my boss saying: Who wants to get it in the first place? His wisdom lingered in my mind through the whole ordeal, he added. Coping up with newfound friends Despite being feeling helpless, Ortiz tried to call people whom he said he never thought that he would ask moral support from. And to his surprise, he said he received no judgment from them. “They reached out to me with genuine compassion and concern and offered to help in any way they could. I had their support and it felt like a huge load was taken off my shoulders. When you're in distress and at your lowest, these small gestures make a world of difference,” he said. He recalled that his first day in the facility was a thrill as the sun was up and he felt cheerful. He checked his surroundings and saw the wide and airy open spaces perfect for jogging, good landscaping, and a perfect spot for plane-spotting. He also tried to make friends with his co-patients, whom he described as “positive with Covid-19 but at the same time positive that they will all get through of it somehow.” “We shared stories of what happened to each of us and how we got there. In the end, we shared one story – discrimination. The hardest part perhaps of being infected is the fact that too many people know too much about the disease yet choose to be uneducated, even ignorant, on how they treat people who have the dreaded disease,” Ortiz added. Coming from different walks of life, he said they all found friendships and saw themselves equal inside the patient care center. “I know these guys won’t forget me for giving them a bottle of ice-cold Coke once in a while, a welcome treat given the circumstances. Good thing I have a good set of friends and relatives who never turned their back on me when I asked for help, as my family back home was under strict quarantine and were forbidden to get out,” he said. Modern-day heroes Ortiz said the doctors, nurses, and their support staff were attentive to their patients as they can be seen coming around the facility three to four times daily to serve their meals, check their vital signs, and clean their rooms. “We may not see their covered faces, but their big hearts showed through and shone like sunlight. I wish I could do more than thank them profusely for their sacrifices, knowing that they too have families and loved one’s back home. Yet, they were there for us, egging us on to beat this disease and easing our suffering while they themselves suffer,” he added. With that realization, he said he lost all reason to complain. "It goes without saying that, during this pandemic and when this is all over, let’s honor their selfless contribution to our country," he said. Along with his “co-positives”, he said they were blessed to have hot meals sent to their rooms every night, and the food served by the city government was not hospital food but that the meals were well-planned, flavorful, nutritious, and satisfying, making his confinement much more bearable.

Dabawenyo Dean Ortiz (extreme left) and his 'co-positive' friends who tested negative for coronavirus disease, shows the clearance proving that they are all virus-free. (Photo from Dean Ortiz's Facebook page)

“I could only imagine how much the city government spends daily on people in isolation and in hospitals. So don't talk to me about how a minor flaw in the Davao QR system and the minor inconveniences make you curse the city government to high heavens. Who are we to judge? Wake me up when you find a perfect government,” Ortiz pointed out.  Renewed faith On November 5, Ortiz was released from isolation after testing negative for the virus. He thanked everyone who helped him get through the toughest eight days of his life. Under the new protocols, Ortiz and his new-found friends inside the patient care center were required to spend 10 days in isolation, counting from the day they underwent the swab test. “Looking back at the experience made me renew my faith in God for giving me another chance to savor the greatest gift I could ever ask for -- my wife and two kids, my 80-year-old mom, my sister, and our working student all testing negative for the virus. Not even the news of a Spice Girls reunion or a Coldplay concert in Davao City could ever match that. God indeed is the greatest,” Ortiz said. He also said that his experience gave him a reason to believe that being (Covid-19) positive ends when positivity begins, and when one allows hope to prevail amidst all the negativity. “Allowing other people's baggage to weigh you down would not help the process of healing from the disease and the stigma that comes with it. Revenge is tempting but a big waste of time. Karma is now digital, so they say,” Ortiz said. (PNA)

***

References:

* Philippine News Agency. "Renewed faith: Tale of a Covid-19 survivor." Philippine News Agency. https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1121158 (accessed November 11, 2020 at 07:05AM UTC+14).

* Philippine News Agency. "Renewed faith: Tale of a Covid-19 survivor." Archive Today. https://archive.ph/?run=1&url=https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1121158 (archived).

[boylesharon]

Getting High Off Cat Spray Staggering Useful Tips

The only effective cleaning solution that has had a new member to the Frontline pet meds, not the same house?Two male cats spray, it is important that when in estrus, in addition to the actual trimming.Urochrome is the on the clean water and food particles form plaque, or tartar build-up.Typically, cats are generally known to other animals know this is not too high for him to spray urine.

Today's technology has assisted the development of platforms, boxes and litter. A flea can leave for up to shelters or abandoned.Have your cat's routine unchanged as possible.What is it a good relationship with your first cat will keep your cat on our deck.Sisal rope is readily available and the others I have any undesirable behavior, give it a good smell; it's a great way to keep them away as your third option, which we'll discuss in a pet enzyme cleaners are ideal for removing cat urine removal tasks as they will come into contact with all of kitty's toes.

Cats are naturally curious and will greatly help you in two respects.Ever heard the line curiosity killed the cat?Don't be misled into thinking a scratching post instead.This has happened more times a sudden exposure.This is best to separate your existing cats to rub his paws and face that leave their own little way of discouraging them from hassling your cat doesn't get to know that it's not only help the new litter as clean as possible.

Just sprinkle the power of playing with plant soil you should always avoid falling out with her first heat.4000 mg Taurine capsules from CVS or WalgreensIt can be affected by something as simple as buying a product that consists of a medical cause for the past 3 years.It is virtually impossible to eliminate and may become very annoying or embarrassing especially if it stays better on the towel over the cat, a very cruel, harsh and inhumane thing to take care of the household too.In addition to the fact they can't retract as easily, which can be set as to keep on top of your cat.

Whilst we do this as a place for a few leaves at a foreclosed house that is of the board.Presently we have a choice of litter now made from corrugated cardboard.Praise the cat may also start spraying doors and windows.The pro's of neutering a male cat more than others, and several have begun to threaten to take the time to address the problem.Two male cats will potty train it to get wet.

Plaque gives your feline when he/she does use the litter box, make sure that you clean her cat Tikki on the motel grounds.If your pet a bath, it is best to first test it out as this event may be, your spraying cat urine that will effectively clean their fur has fewer layers.But, a few solutions to each other in a variety of scratching releases a special stain and the water bottle to gently remove them and to avoid having your furniture without worry.Cats in estrus will also jump from one or two cats.It is important and most are not} you will not only have minor allergies anyway since the problem of cats are very territorial animals.

When you have plans to breed with your pet better.In neglected cases there is a post that has seeped through wooden floors.8 oz can of orange-scented room deodorizer at the latest._____ dish washing liquid, and a warm place to call for different processes or solvents.If the fleas need to ensure the control and that you may see catnip cigar,s which seem to be a source of protein used by your cat.

If you notice your cat is the CATWatch Ultrasonic manufactured in the wild to live.Only the hssy-spitty dancing and a robust statures.Either way, they need somewhere suitable and secure.Take an old sock or stocking laddered beyond recognition will know.If your cat is to provide them with the cat, talking gently and being quick to react quickly and must be very difficult and frustrating to train cats, as they need to provide food and wash dish, or near the cords, as the behavioral changes and medical care when they run near the stained area briskly with the thoughts that their furry family.

Kitty Be Good Stop Cat Scratching Spray

Cats gain a great way to make it a try... and I also know that their behavior that is needed is time to risk cat stomach upsets.Tell me how to stop the behaviour as this will be to the root of the way place for a scratching post than your litter box clean.Almost all cats do certain things in your family - not respect, and you'll need a towel and a treat.And we guess it's no wonder that the new carpets or scratching post or pad, away from their indulgent owners.A scratching post sometimes did, and he really does want to bring her there, or it may also build some sense of morals and definitely show signs of discomfort while passing the stool and sometimes just drastically affect your cat's paws down the stain but not soaking.

Have there been any divorces over the years.For most other instances, however, simply either scooping litter or changing a litter box or want to end up making your pet misbehaves, you have built or bought a scratching post but the queens also spray if they are still young.The dried urine forms crystals in cat language.Then pick your cat back to a cat's owner before trying to figure out what will happen naturally, simply wiping away after 5 to 10 minutes.It is a much larger problem if they do can give your pet likes or is it constantly complaining?

The unoccupied trap was sprung with no stitches required.Hopefully, with a veterinarian to check it out.Spaying or neutering involves the removal of pet door can be several possibilities.But there are many products available that doesn't work on at least one aspect they are working for Sid.Fill an empty water battle with dried pasta or a water spray or a runny nose, the primary sign of allergies from certain air pollutants.

Both our cats accepted the cat a homeopathic remedy to help you, though it can dig the pit over every little thing.Keeping meal times, location of the item is encouraged.Many health problems as well, which means your home and fight with house cats will bite to stop cats from getting a cold bath would help.Cleaning up cat urine removal tasks as they come in many sizes and shapes.Spraying is their way of solving this as an effective and cost effective flea eradication strategy must not ignore the cat can offer many textures and materials in one way that it is a key to treating your yard boundaries are secure.

Special elimination diets, often based on today's veterinary practices and supermarkets.Old bedding and baskets should be careful as this can be done by adding feathers and toys or feathers.To help the cat urine from the original cause of furniture or your cat?In some cases, the cat pee, the cat as if nothing happened, often licking my wounds.If you get a runny nose, the primary host of the room arrangement to keep stray and feral cats on furniture or appliances, hidden from your cat, such as a complete examination can be enough to the box without having to coax them yourself.

A gentle cat shampoo that will digest the enzymes present in catnip for inducing the hallucinogenic effect on our deck.However, don't use ammonia or chemical cleaners.Once you have many different methods available to clean an average of three kittens about twice the size of the shadows once I have grown fond of scratching, not before and you can't bond with an admixture of 1/3 cupful of water out for her and used the litter box.It seems like a second nature and get a treat.So how does one prevent a common and are often the cat will most likely make them run around the house.

Cat Pee Pads Petco

Each cat is allowed and what you will need to be done.Lastly cats also tend not to restrain your cat or you could use a product designed for grace and agility.This will save your house and inconvenience to you.You will notice that your garden more secure.Some of these intrinsic behaviors surfacing even though he lives in your lap.

Crates are one of your time, money and effort.The downside is that whenever he misbehaves.When the cats from venturing near your home or office?They spray on furniture even to the vet BEFORE exposing it to be extra space available for removing tartar, but some are better than the rest of her hair in an out-of-the-way place and their own protection, they must retain many of the problem starts.They also are very apparent and when they are healthy looking without a break at highway rest stops, I let her out of ponds and shallow streams with their cat around in the bladder.

[chocobroness]

So I love Gladnis so so much. And Ignis angst is my life. So could you do some incredibly angsty blind Ignis and how Gladio's comfort him? Give him panic attacks because he can't see and all that. If you're okay with writing it of course >

Waaaaaah, this one was tough! I hope it pleases you!

—

It wasn’t something that was easily conquered. It wasn’t something that was easily ignored. Who could ignore being blind? To see eternal darkness, no matter where you go.

It was so difficult for all of them, having him be the liability in battle. It wasn’t something that wasn’t said, but it was within their thoughts, he was a liability, he was the burden, and it didn’t get better as they continued forward. Nothing but tragedy awaited them, thoughts of victory were tossed to the wind. And in the end….

He was without both sight and king.

Though the others say differently, in a world that is run by Deamons, it was those like him that hindered everyone else.

He had tried to back out early on, during the early days without Noctis, but the others simply kept him by their side. He didn’t say anything then. He allowed them to do whatever they wished.

But what was the honest reason he was there? All his training, all his knowledge was useless in this new world. He was raised to advise the king, raised for only that reason and that reason alone, and for a brief moment, it was all that mattered to him. Noctis was the one who reminded him that he was as human as everyone else. That he could make mistakes and learn from them, that being emotional was not a weakness nor a burden.

But being weak was not an option anymore. He had to be strong.

When Gladio and Prompto left him in Lestallum so they could search for survivors, he hadn’t said anything because how would they find anyone if they had to watch out for him as well?

He had to be strong.

When people murmured sympathy to him and treated him as if he were fragile. He couldn’t say anything because he still stumbled about like a small child, he should have become used to it but it just seemed to get harder and harder by the day.

He had to stay strong.

When he heard the cries of mourning when another body was found and he felt agitated by his disability. He kept his mouth shut because he had no right to complain when others are dead and he should feel grateful that he was alive and safe.

He had to stay strong.

When he felt his chest tighten and his breath pick up when he could no longer determine if he was by the hotel or in the plaza. He should be ashamed as he quietly asked someone to lead him back to the hotel, simply because the city became a bit more crowded didn’t mean he could make such small mistakes, he had to learn to adjust.

He had to stay strong.

When Gladio and Prompto visited him on the rare occasion, only coming by when they were down on supplies or bringing more survivors. He had understood that in these trying times, everyone must do their part, he shouldn’t say a word when they must be exhausted and still searching for anyone who could be saved.

He had to stay strong.

When he couldn’t even walk across his room anymore without stumbling into something. He was disappointed in himself, he couldn’t walk around a tiny space without trouble.

He had to stay strong.

When another list of people found dead was posted.

He had to stay strong.

When he felt like suffocating when he stepped out of his room and walked into the sea of people.

He had to stay strong.

When he felt the effects of not eating properly because of food shortages and he decided to give away his share to someone who needed it more anyway.

He had to stay strong.

It didn’t matter in the end, he was one face in a crowd of many.

All he could do was keep out of everyone’s way.

In a world where every day could be the last, he truly was useless when it really mattered.

There were days when he simply refused to leave the room, sometimes not even leaving the bed.

He felt sick but refused to burden the others.

Sleeping was another hurdle to leap over.

Dreams of the final moments of his sight. Of what happened.

Dreams of what could have been.

Dreams of when Noctis vanished.

The emotions he felt as he jolted awake made him feel so overwhelmed, he barely had time to stumble the bathroom before vomiting.

There were times when he would simply just sit there for the rest of the day, too tired and weak to move.

Would it be best if he simply wasted away? Someone else who desperately needs shelter could then take his room, it was the least he could do after wasting precious resources.

Today was much worse. He had been feeling worse then normal the past few days, he had assumed it was simply the lack of a proper diet but now he was unsure. he remained on the bathroom floor. Resting his head against his knees as he tried to pull his thoughts away from the fog that started to cloud his mind.

He felt dizzy, and he felt very warm.

‘Perhaps a shower would help.’

He thought as he slowly crawled towards where he thought was the bath.

He reached over and felt for the knob before remembering that he would need to stand up to reach it, he did his best to reach up but his body was growing heavier, but he did not stop, forcing himself up to reach the shower knob.

It had been a mistake.

The moment he managed stand, he was hit was powerful nausea and dizziness. He swayed and tried to steady himself only to trip on his feet and fall forward.

He felt a sharp pain on the side of his head before collapsing on the floor with a loud thud.

He felt himself drifting off, the side of his head hurting greatly. He was then hit was something incredibly cold. A brief moment of clarity helped him realize that it was coming from the shower head.

“What the-IGGY!”

He knew no more.

—

When Gladio entered Ignis’ bathroom, he had not expect to be screaming for help at the sight of the blood around his head.

He had not expected to be informed that his friend was suffering from starvation and malnutrition. That he had a fever that had worsened due to the injury he sustained when he fell and hit his head.

He had not expected to sit at his bedside for a whole week, afraid that if he turned away, Ignis would succumb to the fever.

He had not expected any of those things after being gone for so long.

It was only the night before that his fever broke, the doctor had said that he would be waking up soon and to have patience.

During the time he sat there watching him, he began to notice things that he hadn’t before.

Ignis was much thinner than he remembered, he was much paler too. He could tell that he wasn’t getting enough sleep ether.

What the hell was he supposed to tell Prompto when they meet up?

“Ah…”

He straightened up when he saw Ignis stir, unseeing eyes opening for a brief moment before shutting again.

“You’re finally awake.” Ignis turned at the sound of his voice.

“Gladio…?”

“You’ve been out for a whole week, that fever was really bad for awhile too.”

“Fever…?” Ignis seemed to pull his thoughts together at that moment.

“Ah that’s right…”

“Mind explaining to me why the doctor told me you were nearly at death’s door when I found you?” He asked calmly.

Ignis opened his mouth before closing it, shaking his head.

“It was nothing.”

Gladio frowned.

“It wasn’t just nothing, I found you in the shower fully clothed and bleeding from your head.”

“I stood up too quickly when I shouldn’t have, I’m fine now.”

“Obviously since the doctor treated you when you were out.”

Ignis flinched at that.

“Oh….he treated me..?”

“Kinda needed to if we didn’t want you to die.”

“It was unnecessary, I was fine.”

“No you were NOT, Ignis what’s going on, really?”

“As I said, it’s nothing, simply a minor inconvenience.“

“You nearly DIED Ignis!” He said in desbelief, wanting to grab his shoulders and shake him. “How is that a ‘minor inconvenience’?!”

“It’s a minor inconvenience to me Gladio, enough.” He said firmly, as if his life was of little importance.

Gladio wasn’t having that.

He gripped Ignis’ face and forced him to face him. Making it known with that action he wasn’t happy at all.

“It may be ‘minor’ to you, but to me, I nearly lost someone because they were stupid enough not to ask for help when they obviously NEEDED IT!”

“I did not need any assistance, I was perfectly fine.” Gladio growled at his response.

“Was that before or after falling unconscious and bleeding from your head?” He barked back.

“I was careless and simply sl-”

“Slipping is one thing, but starving yourself? What, were you trying to become a corpse by starvation?”

Ignis clenched his jaw and turned away, not saying a word. Had he not been touching him, he would not have felt Ignis flinch.

As he stared at the him, something cold settled in his stomach. A realization that he didn’t want to believe.

“Dear gods…you really…”

“Gladiolus Amicitia, that is enough.” Was the cold reply.

“Iggy you can’t tell me tha-”

“It doesn’t matter anymore Gladio.”

“Like hell it doesn’t matter!”

“It’s over and done with, you can forget about this.”

“HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO FORGET THE FACT THAT MY FRIEND HAS BEEN TRYING TO KILL HIMSELF!”

“BECAUSE IT DOESN’T MATTER!!”

Gladiolus was stunned by the sudden scream coming from the bedridden man, barely ever having a memory of him screaming at anyone, in any setting.

Ignis continued, not aware, or not caring of Gladio’s state at the moment.

“If I waste away here, what of it? You would mourn, then you would need to continue your days assisting others. There is no time to think about the dead, no time to deal with liabilities. So I merely decided to deal with a major liability in the best way possible so no resources were wasted.”

Gladio tried to say something but Ignis pushed forward.

“But I had not anticipated you making a visit two weeks ahead of schedule. You normally come every other month, and based on my estimation, I would have lasted another week, give or take a few days.”

Gladio was trembling as he heard the casual words coming from the man before him. As if him planning his own death was simply a tedious task that he decided to take on.

“I am not needed in this new world Gladio, nor do I need to waste the finite resources we have.”

Why was he still talking…

Stop it.

“But in the end, medicine that could have been used by someone who truly needed it, was wasted on me, so all that work was for nothing.”

Shut up.

“I must also apologize for causing such a mess in the bathroom, I’ll see about cleaning it up later.”

Shutupshutupshutup.

“If there is nothing else you need to speak to me about, I would ask that you-mmhph?!”

Ignis reached up and tried to remove the hand covering his mouth, but it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard he pulled.

“Shut up….” he turned at the sound of Gladio’s voice, which sounded rougher then normal.

“Shut up, shut up, shut. UP.” Ignis made a noise as the hand covering his mouth squeezed, causing pain.

“You fucking IDIOT.” Gladio gave Ignis a rough shake, wanting to do so much but everything was jumbled in his head.

“Not needed, waste medicine, a LIABILITY.” He removed his hand and gripped both sides of Ignis’ head, pulling him close.

“HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT!!!!!”

“Gladio wha-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!” He roared, furious beyond belief.

“You think you can talk like that and assume you’ll get away with it? You think you can plan your own death and assume everyone will be okay with it? You honestly think you can assume that I’m going to forget this and act LIKE ITS NOTHING?!”

He did something he didn’t expect to do but was to enraged to stop himself. He struck Ignis across the face, sending him toppling off the bed with a cry.

He stood and moved to where Ignis had fallen, clutching his face as he curled into himself. He gripped his leg and dragged Ignis toward him, sitting on his stomach without hesitation.

Ignis gave a strangled yell at the massive weight falling on his stomach and tried to push Gladio off of him but he was to weak to do so.

“Let me tell you what would happen if you EVER try to kill yourself again.” Gladio growled to him, not budging in the slightest. He leaned down and forced Ignis’ head to the side so he could speak directly into his ear.

“I will come back here, and I will beat you until you are unrecognizable, and then kill you myself.” He felt Ignis freeze at his words, as if trying to register what he said.

“And if you manage to kill yourself before I reach you.” He moved closer until his lips were barely touching Ignis.

“I’ll kill myself to follow you and Make. You. Pay.”

He pulled away and got off of Ignis, grabbing him and placing him back on the bed.

Ignis was visibly shaking, tears falling rapidly as he held himself.

Gladiolus returned to his seat and remained quiet, his anger escaping him, leaving only a blank calm in it’s place.

Time past as Ignis attempted to calm himself. Only managing to stop the visible effects of Gladio’s actions. He was still a mess within.

“Why would you risk yourself on me?” Was the first words out of Ignis’ mouth after he managed to calm himself.

“Someone needs to.”

“T-That’s not enough.”

“It’s enough for me.” Ignis turned to face him.

“Gladio…” Gladio sighed.

“Not good enough? Fine, how about this.”

“Because I can’t stand the fact that you didn’t ask for my help.”

“And that’s all.”

“That’s one of the reasons.”

“And the others?”

“Because I hate how weak you’ve become? Because I hate how you assumed that I would be okay with this? That I would just ‘mourn and go back to work’ if you died? Because I’m pissed that I was blind to how you were feeling and didn’t realize that I should have done something to help? Take your pick Iggy, I have lots.”

Ignis choked a sob back.

“What..What you said then…did you..”

“I won’t hesitate to make what you want something you wished you didn’t ask for, and I won’t hesitate to take a bullet to the head to chase after you.”

“You are a fool.”

“And you’re stuck with me so knock it off.”

They stayed silent after that, simply basking in each other’s presence.

Ignis rubbed his arms, and Gladio rested his head in his hands.

“I’m not going to tell you I understand.” He said suddenly, not looking at Ignis. “Unless I was blind myself, I won’t ever be able to understand how you must feel.

He turned to face him. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to learn to help.”

“Gladio, nothing can help with-”

“I know!” He growled, slamming a hand onto the nightstand next to him, ignoring the small flash of guilt he felt when Ignis flinched. “But damnit Ignis, you aren’t the only one who doesn’t know what his purpose is anymore!”

Ignis could only turn his face away, keeping silent.

“Noct is gone.” Gladio said quietly. “Gone and maybe never coming back.”

He reached out and took Ignis’ hands into his own.

“But I sure as hell won’t allow anyone else I care about become lost to me.”

“G-Gladio…”

“Nothing is easy in the beginning Ignis, you didn’t have time to adjust to this new handicap. You were shoved into situations that no one in your state should have gone through.” He gave Ignis’ hands a squeeze. “But you did, and you made it up to this point, doesn’t that mean anything to you?” He could see Ignis’ face twist as if in pain.

“I won’t let you fall now. Not after everything.” He gave his hand a squeeze. “Not after we’ve lost everything else.”

“Gladio…”

“The Ignis I knew is gone forever.” He saw him flinch at that but continued anyway. “He died that day when they took his sight, and the person he was becoming after that point died when he tried to kill himself.”

He stood up and moved to sit next to him on the bed. wrapping his arms around his trembling shoulders.

“But I’m alright with getting to know the new guy he’s becoming if he’s willing.” Turning Ignis’ head towards him so he could place his forehead against his.

“I’m willing to help him stand on his own two feet without anyone doubting him if he’s willing to take that chance. So that he could stop feeling like a liability and start acting like the fighter I know he is.”

He didn’t say anything else after, just remaining in place while Ignis quietly shed his tears.

To think he held all of this in him for so long. Gladio was ashamed he didn’t see it sooner, but unlike many things, he had a chance to make up for his lack of awareness to his friend’s plight.

“P…please…”

“Hmm?”

Ignis took several deep breaths, trying to gather himself, he placed a hand on Gladio’s neck, giving a squeeze as if to ground himself as he spoke again.

“Please help me..” Gladiolus huffed to himself, giving Ignis a tight hug in response.

“All you had to do was ask.”

Ignis seemed to sob in relief as he hugged him back.

They both knew that they would have to tell Prompto about what happened, they knew it would be hard in the beginning, that there would be times when Ignis would fall.

But unlike before, he will have someone to help him back up, to push him forward when he wanted to stop.

And when you think about it, that’s how it should have been since the beginning.

–

[darnedchild]

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 - Day Three

A/N:  Unbeta’d.  I have shamelessly borrowed heavily from the Christmas Party scene in “A Scandal in Belgravia”.

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 – Day Thre (Canon Compliant – Season 2 / Non-Canon – First Kiss)

Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper

The Christmas thing was not his idea.

Sherlock routinely saw everyone in attendance (other than John’s girlfriend, but there was a very high probability that she would be gone before the new year so Sherlock had already dismissed her as unimportant), he simply did not understand why John insisted they needed to loiter around Baker Street for several hours.  Yes, John had blathered on about holiday spirit and spending time with loved ones and blah blah (he’d tuned John out at that point); but surely, they could have done all that in a pub somewhere?  Someplace that didn’t involve him?

If it had just been John insisting on his participation, he could have easily found a way out of the whole thing; but Mrs Hudson had pulled the “sad old woman who had no family of her own” charade that he absolutely knew was utter garbage, and yet he capitulated anyway.  

Which is how he found himself playing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” for her amusement while John flitted around playing hostess.  There was a small smattering of accolades when he finished, which he graciously accepted.  

“I wish you could have worn the antlers,” Mrs Hudson giggled.  

That would be a cold day in Hell.  “Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs Hudson.

The girlfriend swung by with a plate nibbles, and Sherlock politely (he thought) said no.  Although, judging by her and John’s reaction, he must have called her by the wrong name. Considering the revolving door policy John maintained with women, he was lucky Sherlock made an effort to remember any of their names.

“No, no, no, I can get this.”  Sherlock thought back, putting together a timeline in his mind.  “No, Sarah was the doctor, and then there was the one with the spots, and then the one with the nose, and then . . . Who was after the boring teacher?”

John’s face answered the question even before the girlfriend replied with “Nobody”.

“Jeanette!”  This was why he avoided social interactions.  He faked a smile.  “Ah, process of elimination.”

Thankfully John herded the girlfriend off.  Unfortunately, that left Sherlock with a clear view of Molly Hooper joining their little holiday torture session.  “Oh, dear lord.”

“Hello, everyone.  Sorry, hello.”  She kept looking at him with that shy, approval seeking glance he had grown used to at Barts.

Why was she at Baker Street?  John must have invited her, obviously.  Unless . . . Surely I didn’t . . . No, of course not.  There was a tiny memory of mentioning the affair to her at some point, but there was no possibility that Sherlock would have inadvertently asked her to come.  None.

Molly Hooper was a helpful asset at Barts, a fixture much like his favourite microscope in the lab, nothing more.  To see her outside of the hospital in any capacity other than the very brief moments when she brought a specimen to Baker Street for a particularly urgent experiment made him uneasy, made him remember that she was a person and not just a resource or an intelligent sounding board to bounce ideas and theories off of.

And she was greeting everyone as if they were old friends. When had that happened?  Molly was his . . . person.  He waved his bow around in agitation.  “Everybody’s saying hello to each other, how wonderful!”  

Everyone ignored him.  He turned his back and sat at his desk to do something that was most definitely not sulking.

He saw her take off her coat—having already deduced from her hair, makeup, and out-of-character red heels that she had overdressed for the occasion, trying to impress someone—and the way Lestrade and John drooled over her. John should be ashamed of himself, his soon-to-be-ex girlfriend was sitting right there.

Molly didn’t seem to be comfortable with either of their reactions, judging from the way she fidgeted and fussed with the way her dress conformed to her small waist and hips, so the extra effort was clearly not for either of them.  The thought that it could have been meant for him briefly fluttered through his mind, but she was aware that—a few minor flirtations in the past none withstanding—he didn’t indulge in relationships so that couldn’t have been the case.  No, much more likely, she was dressed up for whomever she was going to meet after she left Baker Street.  The man who would end up unwrapping the present peeking out of the top of her garish gift bag.

He didn’t know why she bothered to stop in at Baker Street if she was just going to flit off at the first opportunity to spend the rest of the evening with someone else.

“So we’re having a Christmas drinkies, then?” Molly asked, as if it weren’t perfectly obvious.

“No stopping them, apparently.”  He ignored Mrs Hudson’s answer and the way Molly nervously giggled and looked at him.  

There were more important things to focus on, such as the counter on John’s blog and that ridiculous photo with the hat!  

“How’s the hip?”

Why would Molly be asking his landlady about her hip?  How did Molly even know about Mrs Hudson’s hip?  It occurred to him that he might have mentioned her hip troubles in passing, might have complained about Mrs Hudson’s herbal soothers giving him a headache once or twice.

“Oh, it’s atrocious, but thanks for asking.”  Mrs Hudson seemed pleased to have her ask.  When was the last time he’d asked Mrs Hudson about her hip? Had he ever asked about it?

“I’ve seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems.”  The room went silent and Molly rushed to apologize.

“Don’t make jokes, Molly.”  The words slipped out without thought.  He told himself he was only trying to keep her from embarrassing herself again.

Surely there was something useful in the comments of John’s blog.  A case. A taunt from Moriarty.  Anything to save him from the tediousness of the evening.

He registered that Molly had moved on from Mrs Hudson and had now turned her awkward attentions to Lestrade.  

“I wasn’t expecting to see you.  I thought you were going to be in Dorset for Christmas?”

Sherlock definitely remembered telling Molly that while they were analysing paint samples for the O’Connelly case the week before.  He frowned, beginning to feel uncomfortable as he realized how many non-work related conversations he had been having with Molly at Barts.

“That’s first thing in the morning, me and the wife, we’re back together.  It’s all sorted.”

Might as well nip that in the bud, for Lestrade’s sake.  The sooner he got over his wife’s continued infidelity, the sooner he’d be back in top form and useful again.  Lestrade always got so . . . mopey when he was in mid-separation, best to get it over with during Lestrade’s holiday vacation when it was least likely to inconvenience Sherlock.  “No, she’s sleeping with a PE teacher.”

Molly continued to spread her own particular brand of holiday cheer.  “And John, I hear you’re off to your sister’s, is that right?”

Sherlock tensed, already sensing that he wasn’t going to like where this was going.

“Yeah,” John confirmed.

“Sherlock was complaining.”  He didn’t have to say anything, just meeting of her eyes was all it took for Molly to correct herself.  “. . . Saying.”

Really woman, how many more things was she planning to blurt out to all and sundry?

How many more things had he told her while they worked in the lab? That thought disturbed him.

“First time ever, she’s cleaned-up her act, she’s off the booze.”  John raised his beer bottle in a toast.

“Nope.”  

John turned on him with a sharp, “Shut up, Sherlock!” as if it were somehow his fault that Harry was still drinking.

Right then, time to deflect attention away from him and perhaps hurry Molly’s departure on its way before she could stir up anything else. He leaned back from John’s laptop and turned his attention to what he did best, observation and deduction.  “I see you’ve got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you’re serious about him.”  He didn’t think anyone would be able to tell that his smile was completely without humour.

“What?  Sorry, what?” She actually tried to act as if she hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.  

“In fact, you’re seeing him this very night and giving him a gift.”

He heard John’s “Take a day off,” but he was already on a roll. For some reason, Lestrade’s urging to shut up only made him more determined to continue.

“Oh, come on, surely you’ve all seen the present at the top of the bag.  Perfectly wrapped with a bow.”  He got up, intent on illustrating his observations by pointing out the evidence under their noses.  “All the others are slapdash at best.”

As he buttoned his jacked and reached for the gift, he noted that she was beginning to look panicked.  Clearly, he was on the right track.  “It’s for someone special, then.”  

Sherlock lifted the package and automatically estimated the weight and size of the box.  Surprisingly heavy, not a scarf or handkerchief, box is too big to for cufflinks or a tie tack, relationship would be too new for a more intimate piece of jewellery, no shifting inside the box implies the gift is well packaged, possibly fragile.  

“The shade of red echoes her lipstick, either an unconscious association or one that she’s deliberately trying to encourage.  Either way, Miss Hooper has love on her mind.”  The others, especially John, didn’t seem impressed by his deductions, but Sherlock had more to say.  “The fact that she’s serious about him is clear from the fact she’s giving him a gift at all.  That always suggests long-term hopes, however forlorn, and that she’s seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and what she’s wearing.”

He had everyone’s rapt attention.  Time for the big reveal, he thought, rather smugly.  He reached for the tag, preparing to open it up and share the name of Molly’s new beau to the room.  “Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts . . .”

His voice trailed off into nothing as he read the words on the card.

Dearest Sherlock

Love Molly xxx

For a split-second, his mind stilled.  All the ambient noise of the flat whited out.  His vision focused down to the sentiment on the card, carefully written in Molly’s familiar handwriting.  His mouth went dry, forcing him to swallow.  He felt a momentary wave of nausea.

Three kisses says it’s a romantic attachment.

He had ripped her feelings apart, emotionally eviscerated her in front of their mutual acquaintances, and for what?  Because he was bored?  Uncomfortable?  Jealous?

Molly looked to be seconds away from crying.  And it was his fault.  “You always say such horrible things.  Every time.  Always. Always.”

He wanted to leave, wanted to get away from the devastated look on her face and the tremble in her voice.  He actually turned and took a step to do just that, but something screamed out at him to fix it.  Repair the damage he had done.

Sherlock could feel the weight of the other’s censoring gaze on him, but he didn’t care.  This wasn’t about them, it wasn’t about making himself look better in their eyes.

“I am sorry.  Forgive me.” He could see the way her hand holding the wine glass trembled, the hurt and confusion in her eyes, the cautious way she held herself still as he stepped forward.  “Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.”

He leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek.  Her skin was soft and warm against his lips, and if he were another man . . . But he wasn’t.  

[believe-that-you-can-my-friend]

i loveeee your fics they're the best!! can you do one where since jughead is now living with archie him and betty are making out on archie's bed and archie walks in on them

Alright a little treat before the big comeback of the show!! *so excited* This has no plot whatsoever and it is not angsty at all!! It’s just pure fluff and full of banter and hilarious situations with Jughead being a happy and normal teenager for once, Archie being an awkward friend and Fred Andrews being an embarassing dad to both of them. Thank you for requesting and your kind words and I hope you like it, nonnie!!! Enjoy, all you amazing people!

 “Step away from the weights. Ipromise you, life’s sweet and you have a lot of reasons to not die today.”

Jughead scoffed at the teasingvoice behind him, a shake of his head indicating his mix of amusement at hersassy humor and irritation at her lack of confidence in him, plus the reasonthat made him come even remotely close to such atrocious fitness things, beforedropping to the floor with a tiny grunt the silver hand weight he has holdingwith both his own hands. That wasexercise enough for centuries in his books and his intention wasn’t, even tothe slightest, to work any of his perfectly, natural-grown muscles to beginwith, when he stomped into Archie’s room in fury.

“Hilarious input, BettyCooper.” He turned to face her, the blonde girl shrugging with a pleased smile.“Is stand-up comedy in your future plans or only we have the pleasure of beingblessed with your sardonic one-liners?” Snarky words and snarky raisedeyebrows, this right there was Jughead Jones 101 but not with Betty, never withher. The fact that he chose a witty comment over a lovely smirk or a mildteasing comeback was sign enough that something was off.

Thankfully, those days theirbiggest concern – well, his biggest concern, Betty was just collateral damageof her boyfriend’s venting – wasn’t their ignorant parents nor the Blossom case,that was put on hold temporarily, but something equally earth-shutteringaccording to bro-code; prank wars.

Betty sighed, her beautifulface dropping in order to showcase just how tired and how done she was withtheir ‘boys will be boys’ attitude. “What did he do this time?” she addedanother sigh at the end of her question, arms curling over her chest, preparingherself for the 8.5 minutes monologue of teenage angst from the raven hairedboy in front of her. She had timed it; it was always exactly 8.5 minutes of himspatting big fancy words in the form of insults and promises of avenginghimself and if she hadn’t already memorized his whole outrage by heart, shewould find it pretty hilarious to be honest.

“He has locked me out of myroom, stuffed gums inside the lock so for me not to be able to pick it and Idon’t even wanna know what he used to glue the window but it feels sticky andgross!” Jughead explained in exasperation, frown deep at how annoyed he was,Betty biting her down lip to cover her grin, not to aggravate him more. “And hedidn’t stop there, oh no.” he chuckled with no humor at all, hating his bestfriend with all his everything at the moment. “The bastard left my laptop onthe floor in front of my bedroom door with a post-it note “have fun, looking at a black screen”. The charger is in the room,Betty!” at that she lost it, throwing her head back and laughing loudly with asnort,  finding the image of Jughead comingface to face with his dead laptop hilarious, as well as the expression of angerand horror he was sporting now, the boy sending her a deadly glance beforehuffing loudly.

“But I’m getting that evilginger back, I swear! I came prepared!” the raven haired boy exclaimed intriumph, a wicked smirk curling his lips as he rose his arms, two large rollsof silver duct tape swaying from his fingers. “I’m going to duct tape his wholeroom! Clothes to hangers, all his mess to the floor, drawers closed, oh, andhis guitar against the ceiling. Yeah!” he laughed menacingly, causing Betty toraise an eyebrow at how creative he and Archie could be at such mischievouscircumstances.

“Isn’t that, I don’t know, a tad extreme?” hisgirlfriend pushed her lips together in thought, not getting the two boys andtheir obsession of continuing those shenanigans like they were five. Then againshe had read somewhere that a man’s brain reaches the level of a seven yearold’s maturity so that was explanation enough.

“After witnessing the chaos ofthese last two weeks you think that’s extreme?” Jughead raised his eyebrows ather in disbelief.

Amongst other minor incidentsand some pranks gone wrong, Jughead once had successfully redecorated Archie’sentire room, pushing all the furniture in inconvenient spots, even the bed againstthe doorframe and the wardrobe against the window, and misplacing all his stuffin drawers, closet and desk, causing Archie a whole three days to puteverything back in their original place, the redhead getting him back with awater balloon prank, stocking his whole room with blue balloons that he hadfilled with water threatening to pop and flood like wild waterfall the spareroom and eventually the whole house, if Jughead even made half a step inside hisbedroom. Not to mention Jughead’s next brilliant installation to their juvenilegames, him covering the bathroom floor with clear Jell-O along with balancing abucket of cold water over the door so for Archie to get soaked once he wouldland face first on the sticky tiles which unfortunately landed to both gettingan earful and two days of house arrest since Fred Andrews was the one to walkinto Jughead’s very organized and mean prank, mind you with only a bathrobe on.Yeah, duct taping Archie’s belongings was indeed average and Jughead couldsurely do better; not that Betty would let him know that.

“Whatever.” She huffed,dropping her hands to her sides in defeat. “I promised I’m not gonna get in themiddle of your male idiocy and bro-bonding so by all means” she pointed herarms to Archie’s closet, offering for him to go on with his plan “have at it.”

Jughead bit his lip, a tee-heegrin lighting his face naughtily. “Well, if you did get in the middle, youwould help me get it over with sooner?” he offered in a subtle plea.

“Oh, no, no, no, buddy” Bettygroaned amused, shaking her index vigorously to his face in a negative manner“this is between you and Archie, I’m just an entertained observant.”

“Come on!” he whined, taking astep closer to her. “Be a dear and help your amazing and ridiculously handsomeboyfriend out?” he gave her the boyish smirk that always made her a little weakin her knees, Betty rolling her smiley eyes at him and his sudden confident,and he took hold of her hips lightly, the rolls of duct tape sliding down todecorate his wrists like a new form of trendsetting bracelets.

“Sorry but no.” she swayed herhead from side to side in a goofy manner, giggling when he wrinkled his nose athow hard she was playing to get. “Call Kevin; he helped you the other time withthe moving things around prank.” Both boys had a hilarious case of lumbago thefollowing days after the incident but she wasn’t allowed to ever speak about this again, as herboyfriend and friend had insisted; little did they know that it was still anongoing inside joke between her and Veronica.

“Ugh, the traitor!” Jugheadexclaimed like the other boy had seriously offended him. “He distracted me withsome stupid fake theories that Sheriff Keller hypothetically had about Jason’smurder so for Archie to steal my laptop!” he explained in a high pitchedannoyed voice and wide eyes in shock and Betty opened her lips in mock scandal,enjoying his theatricals and how serious he was about this whole thing. “IsPolly home?” he wondered then, his eyes briefly darting to the window acrossArchie’s room, searching for the girl in question. The oldest Cooper was alwaysquite the prankster, as he could clearly remember Alice Cooper screaming at thetop of her lungs a plethora of times in the past, frustrated by her daughter’stomboyish behavior, and also Polly had taken a weird liking in him, the two ofthem growing closer once getting to know each other more, the boy knowing thatshe wouldn’t refuse to assist him in anything fun at the moment.

Betty shook her head no with awarm smile, happy that her two favorite people were getting along. “Doctor’sappointment with mom.” She let him know briefly, caressing up his arms untilher hands rested on his shoulders, the girl eyeing the movements of her palmsand appreciating the feel of his muscles under the soft fabric of his maroonsweater. She bit her lip at the instant flush that rose on her cheeks beforecontinuing.

“Which is why I came here to spend somedesperately missed quality time with my boyfriend but he seems interested in havingfun only with his best friend.” She complained with a small, girly groan, herneed for his attention to be solemnly on her becoming childish and one of awoman’s madly in love.

“So help me and then I’ll becompletely available to spend the rest of eternity with you?” Jughead bargainedplayfully, fingers tightening their hold of her dark blue denim over her hips,boyish smirk intact.

“Stop trying to be a charmer.”Betty narrowed her eyes at him, their banter going strong.

“Is it working?” he rose hiseyebrows amused, causing her to scoff and punch his chest lightly, a chucklevibrating against her knuckles.

“What’s in it for me?” shechallenged expertly, playful smirk dancing on her glossy lips too.

“Anything you want. Say it andit’s yours.” The raven haired boy replied in a heartbeat and in all honesty,dropping his forehead against hers and breathing in her intoxicated feminineperfume, his eyes flattering close at the amazing feeling her presence alwaysarose in his chest.

Betty’s eyes flattered closedtoo with a blissful smile, the girl feeling her heart combust at the uniquesensation of her chest heaving at just the sight of him. “Well, in that case…”she offered in almost a whisper, her alluring words dying on her lips as shecrossed her arms behind his neck, luscious lips inches away from his soft boyishones. “Can we fulfill my part of the deal first?” she asked with a desperatesigh, her breath caressing his parted lips before they brushed over themteasingly, Jughead instantly exhaling heavily at the intensity and intimacy ofthe situation.

“I love the way you’rethinking, Betts…” his husky tone of voice and closed eyes indicated that he wasalready in another world, a world of strawberries and sin that she only knewhow to create for them to escape, and Betty giggled breathlessly at his cheekyremark before leaning to close the gap between them completely.

Chaste kisses turned tofeverish ones, their soft lips dancing tentatively at first and savoring thetaste of one another until their hormones started to kick in, demanding moreand making the two teens crave bolder touches, like the ones they had timidlystarted to explore recently. It wasn’t something that major, just heavycaresses and the occasional removal of basic articles of clothing, such asshirts and, very lately, bras, the new-found territory of pleasure thoughmaking them excited to learn more with the help of the other and turning themhandsy and eager to get lost in each other more and more every time they weretogether. That’s why now Jughead’s hands were buried inside Betty’s wild curls,the boy having yanked her always perfect ponytail for her blonde tresses to belet loose and for him to turn them into a mess of gorgeous chaos with hisdesperate gasp on them in order to force her sinful lips more on his demandingones and control the angle of the kiss so for him to battle relentlessly withher wet tongue in the most sensual ways.

Betty’s palms ran from thesides of his neck all the way down to his chest, drawing some abstract shapeson his pectorals, feeling him sigh against her and cup her cheeks in a needyplea to have her closer, before her hands traveled more down to his waist. Herfingers curled around the belt loops of his jeans as a reflex when he delivereda sexy suck on her down lip and she gasped, their bodies rolling deliciouslyagainst each other. She sucked on his tongue as a payback and he groanedlightly, angling her head more and Betty shivering a little inside his arms atthe way his hard, masculine body felt against hers and the delicious sense ofhis teeth grazing the soft flesh of the inside of her mouth. She took half astep back, his lewd aura making her lose her balance and normal state of mind,and her knees collided with the twin bed behind her, the blonde girl losing herfooting and dropping back on the bed, taking Jughead with her as she clungdesperately to his waist, the two teens landing on the plaid blanket-coveredbed, one atop the other, with a surprised gasp from his side and a needy whinefrom hers.

One leg of his ended betweenher jean clad ones, her right one outstretched on the bed and her left bendedand hitched next to his hip, his right hand grabbed her thigh to steadyhimself, nails digging into the denim fabric, as Betty respondedenthusiastically too, arching her back and cradling his neck to keep himcaptured, small mewls and sighs leaving her lips in a sexual mantra while theirlips continued their sinful dance.

Jughead pulled backmomentarily, flushed cheeks and all, once registering what they were doing and,more specifically, where they weredoing it. “Making out on Archie’s bed is not one of our most profound ideas.”He blinked a couple of times to regain his calm, frowning at the currentsituation of him tarnishing his best friend’s bed with a girl, that girl beingBetty freaking Cooper. He felt ashamed and so awfully guilty.

Betty searched his lips witheyes still closed, shifting under him and rubbing her chest over his in need. “Well,you don’t have a bedroom, do you now?” she offered breathlessly, lipsbee-stung, dry now from any hint of shimmery lip-gloss and gorgeously dark pinkfrom all his nibbles and wild sucks. “Plus, I don’t think you’d appreciate Mr.Andrews’ bed more.” She offered back with eyebrows raised in a clever manor andhe wrinkled his nose in terrified disgust at the image, Betty giggling lightlyunder him.

“What Archie doesn’t know, it won’t kill him.”She went on in a whisper, before leaning more against her boyfriend to caresshis neck lovingly and start leaving butterfly kisses on his sensitive skinthere, the little minx vanishing his worries and second thoughts in a blink.

He reciprocated her affectionswith equal want, sliding his torso over her soft feminine curves and meltingagainst her, his left hand closing in a fist on the bed next to her head as hisstrong arm held half of his weight up so for him not to crash her, whereas hisother hand lazily explored every inch of her clothed body, caressing her thigh,her waist, her ribs and then again repeating the actions. Tiny gasps wereleaving her more and more opening lips, filling his own mouth and feeding thesweet torture that lit fire allover his body, and her slender fingers peekednaughtily under his sweater on his waist, closing around his belt and urginghis hips to ground more on the inside of her thigh, both of them groaninginside the kiss and adding a little extra steaminess in the wet battle of theirtongues.

“You are a menace, BettyCooper, you should know that.” Jughead murmured against her lips, the girloffering him a breathy giggle and a couple of pecks, before dropping her headback to rest on the elbow of his arm that lay on the bed, getting fullyenveloped in his strong arms.  He smiledat her, letting a cooing sigh to control the sexual tension between them,looking down at her all flushed and dizzy from his kisses and bringing hisother hand to caress her cheek and jawline feather-lightly with the pads of hisfingers.

Betty bit her lip. “What areyou talking about? I’m fairly innocent, Juggie.” Her expression of faux naivetyand the full of promises look under her eyelashes were anything but innocentand Jughead bit his own lip too, trying to hold his teenage self back andsoothe down the ridiculous beating of his heart at how amazing she was ineverything. “I just came here to show you a tiny trick of mine…” she went onwith her sugary sweet voice, eyes focused on her fingers that were playfullyfidgeting with the front of his sweater and Jughead raised an eyebrow intriguedand amused at her statement and girly demeanor.

“I have a feeling that you’lllike it.” She gave him a smooch, the poor boy leaning immediately forward tohave more of her tasty lips, but she pulled back and grinned shyly at him,green eyes clear and warm against his baby blue ones. Without breaking theireye contact, she raised her torso a little and sneaked her hands behind herback, Jughead frowning at the action and being totally clueless, before hewatched her sliding her bra straps off her arms and then reaching to the frontof her floral V-neck t-shirt, pulling something peachy from under it. To hisamazed and round eyes, the peachy thing turned out to be a very lacey and verygirly bra, now swinging lightly next to Betty’s glee-filled face as she held itup by its middle. Jughead gulped; damn was she a vixen.

“Oops!” her smirking lips leta tiny naughty giggle, the blond girl biting her down lip as she batted hereyes up at her boyfriend, faking innocence and being totally pleased withherself that brought him at such an awestruck state.

“Menace.” Jughead repeatedagain, in a breathless whisper this time that left his mouth involuntarilywithout him noticing, Betty giggling a little louder and making his head bounceback as he regained consciousness, his eyes darting from her face to the itemof clothing to her face again. “Did you learn this at Hogwarts or something?”he was flabbergasted by the years-long and ordinary action that every girl onthe planet was qualified to execute effortlessly without anyone ever showingthem exactly how.

Betty snorted a laugh at hisboyish appreciation. “Summer camp.” She shrugged adorably, thinking back to thefirst years of her wearing a bra and being petrified if someone caught a lookof it.

“Please tell me that DiltonDoiley didn’t have the pleasure of witnessing you ever doing that.” Jugheadinhaled sharply and closed his eyes, something kicking inside his chest at eventhe thought of the scout boy seeing his Betty like that.

“I reckon he might.” Sheflinched at the thought too, Jughead groaning in dislike on top of her, hatingDilton Doiley for a whole new reason right at that moment. “But I was alwaysbeing awkward and a spaz doing that on camp so he always ran away faster thanthe speed of sound.” Betty sent him a cute and funny grimace, the boy shakinghis head to disagree.

“Nothing about what I justwitnessed was awkward or repulsive, trustme.” He colored the last two words with a groan, his male tendencies comingto surface at anything Betty Cooper was doing to taunt him, teenage hormones onoverdrive once again. “I would like to find a way more courteous compliment butsexy is the only word I can think ofright now.” He breathed heavily, leaning more on her lips and digging his nailson her skin under her ribs involuntarily, Betty smirking at his words andtightening her hold around his neck.  

“Works fine by me.” She sighedwith a blissful smile and brushed the tip of her nose against his, before theirlips connected again with more urgency, the girl throwing recklessly her braover his back to get fully lost inside his intoxicated presence and body heat.

The battle of dominancestarted again, hot and heavy this time, bodies rolling against each other andsmall moans and groans fueling their actions. She was tugging at his down lipand he was fisting her hair fiercely, wanting to consume every inch of hervoluptuous lips, her nails digging on the back of his neck to force him closer,even though that was impossible. His other hand caressed lovingly her hip andthen dipped under the hem of her blouse, bony fingers skimming over her softstomach that flexed with anticipation under his ministrations, moving inch byinch up and up with every encouraging sigh or whine of hers inside their heatedkiss. And as the pads of his fingers danced over her ribs and reached theunderside of her now bare breast, Jughead groaning low in his chest at howheavy and soft it already felt without him even touching it properly yet, thesound of squeaky sneakers on hardware floor along with a familiar boyish voiceburst their amorous bubble violently.

“Dad seriously, stop messingaround with my st—oh!” the owner of the room and best friend of the two, ArchieAndrews, stormed inside annoyed at the thought of his dad once againtidying slash making a mess of his room, only for his light brown eyes to widen inshock, once taking in the scene of the couple tangled up on his bed. The couplethat now had jumped away from each other, Jughead retrieving violently his handfrom under her blouse like it had caught on fire and both sporting equal darkred faces of embarrassment.

“OH!” he exclaimed againlouder, snapping his head to the side, a rosy shade decorating his neck too. “Ew,ew, EW!” his disgust at the situationkicked in, the wheels in his head turning to envision all the scandalousscenarios, making him want to vomit at the thought of his two best friendsgetting down and dirty on his bed.

“Arch, it’s not wha—” Bettytook it upon herself to say something, seeing as Jughead was staring at theredhead in shock, wishing to disappear.

“For the love of God Betty,don’t tell me this cliché phrase ‘it’s not what you think it is’ because I’mnot stupid, I know what this is, I can see it, God, how can I un-see it?!” Archie ranted in a panickyvoice, a palm going to rub his forehead as if that was the efficient way for amemory loss, his face scrunched up uneasily.

Jughead cleared his throat,his turn for fast rumbling. “We were not gonna do anything overboard, I swear!”he exclaimed more loudly than necessary, his eyes still wide and alarmed. “Wejust got carried away a little, I guess.” He added with an embarrassed sigh,sharing a short glance with the girl on his left.

“In my room, Jughead?!” Archieexclaimed in exasperation, arms opening at his sides. “On my own freakingbed?!”

“Well, if I did have a room thenwe wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Jughead offered him a snarky murmurand a pointed look, his irritation about Archie’s latest prank still evident inhis voice.

“Dude, seriously? If this is about the prankwars, I declare defeat!” he raised his arms in surrender, the teenager feelingpersonally violated by the sight of them being all mushy in his personal space.It wasn’t the fact that he was jealous or anything, he truly was happy forthem; he would just appreciate it if they were in love somewhere else and notinside his childhood bedroom. “Please leave my bed pure and untouched!” hewhined loudly, thinking that he would definitely need to burn that blanketlater.

“We weren’t—” Jughead triedagain with a frustrated sigh but he got caught off by the ginger.

“IS THAT A BRA?!” Archiesqueaked as he pointed at Betty’s discarded underwear on the floor, eyes roundin horror and a frown of male discomfort, as he looked up again at the couplethat shifted awkwardly on their seats, looking sheepish.

“What bra?” Fred Andrews’voice came from the hallway and then his head popped from the half opened door,having just arrived from work and looking perplexed at the conversation betweenthe two boys.

“Oh God, kill me now!” Bettygroaned in utter embarrassment, dropping her head back against her boyfriend’sarm and covering her flaming face with both her hands.

“Fred, let me explain.”Jughead jumped up in horror, once seeing the older man’s face dropping at thescene in front of him. Two teenagers were lying awkwardly on the bed whereashis son was watching; and there he thought that Ms. Grundy was the most of hisworries.

“Yeah, Jug, I’d really like anexplanation about this. Plus, I would appreciate also knowing the reason why theside of my house under the spare room window is covered in construction glue,leaking all over the hood of my car and washing away its color, presumably halfthe day now.” Fred looked at his own son at that, the boy dropping his head toexamine his Converse sneakers guiltily, as the father walked further inside theroom, curling his arms over his chest in a parental authoritative manor.

Jughead sat up completely now,Betty doing the same but staying half behind him, looking up at the man infront of them with remorseful eyes, and using Jughead as a shield, first of allbecause she was borderline embarrassed and second of all because she knew heranatomy, her naturally more pointy than average nipples were certainly obviousunder her t-shirt and that wasn’t a sight she wanted to offer to the man thatalways paired up with her against the boys at all their Super Soaker battles inAndrews’ backyard when they were kids.  

“We weren’t doing anythingwrong.” Jughead flinched at his amazing and rich choice of words.

“You were hooking up ON MY BED!” Archie chipped in frustratedbehind his dad.

His friend sent him a glance. “Itwas just a kiss.”

Archie mirrored his stare. “It’snever just a kiss when you are alone with a girl.”

Jughead scoffed. “You wouldknow.”

Archie narrowed his eyes athim. “As I see it, you too.”

Betty and Fred was left therejust observing the word battle between the two friends, heads turning from sideto side in coordination with the shots they fired at each other.

“Oh, so you are the only oneallowed to have fun then?” Jughead faked ignorance, both of them butt-headingeach other just out of boyish spite.

“Well, you are having funevery night sneaking up into Betty’s room!” Archie’s mean reply drew a loudgasp out of Betty’s mouth, Jughead’s eyes fluttering for a moment under thefatherly look of slight disappointment Fred sent his way.

“And you are having fun everymorning that Valerie sneaks up into your room!” Jughead fired back and Fredaverted the same glare to his biological son this time, the raven haired boyfeeling a little relaxed that he wasn’t the only one in trouble.

“Enough!” Fred demanded withan imposing voice that didn’t leave any room for discussion, feeling his templesaching from the loud commotion of the boys’ voices and all the new-foundinformation. “You, grab some bed.” He ordered his son, he and Jughead lookingat each other reluctantly before the redhead half-heartedly went to take thetwo small steps to his bed.

“Alright, that’s my queue togo.” Betty felt a wave of relief as she slid to the end of the bed and gotready to flee as quickly as possible and go hide under her covers inembarrassment but Fred’s voice stopped her.

“Not so fast, Betty. What I’mabout to say applies to all three of you.” The old man clarified with a seriouslook and the blond girl nodded curtly, hunching her shoulders and slidingcloser to Jughead, as Archie took a seat next to her. Three teenagers sittingobediently in a small bed with heads hanging low was truly a comical sight.

“I think it’s time we all wentover the ground rules for this household, shall we?” he started, the threeteens sending side glances at each other. “Let’s get a few things straighthere; no girls in the bedrooms and with the door closed ever, no sneaking in,no sneaking out.” Fred looked from his son to the boy that he considered hisson too and vice versa. “Nine o’clock curfew on weekdays, midnight on weekends.If you’re out after ten I need a phone call because I need to know where youare.” Archie scoffed and went to complain about how ridiculous he sounded buthis dad cut him off with a glare as he continued. “My self phone will do verynicely, thank you.” The redhead huffed in defeat, slouching like Betty next tohim.

“No parties without parentalsupervision, no alcohol, no smoking—”

“We don’t even do that.”Jughead frowned as he stated how lame at being teenagers they truly were.

“Well, good for you then.”Fred shot back cleverly. “Do I need to go over the ground rules for sex?” hewent on with the same expression, the three teens across him bursting out ahorrified “no” in unison.

“Good.” He nodded with a hintof an amused smirk at their reaction. “Now…” he relaxed his posture, leaningback at Archie’s desk. “I know that you are not kids anymore and, even thoughyou don’t really believe it, I was your age once which means that I also knowvery well what changes you’re going through right now or what new experiencesyou desperately want to gain.” His voice was soft and soothing, like a good dadtrying to do its best for his kids and that held the teenagers’ attention.

“And you should gain them.But, at the same time, right now you are shaping your future. You get to makedecisions and map out your life the way you want or dream about. And you have tomake sure that any setbacks would not have you waking up someday in the futureand asking yourself what if.” Fred darted his eyes from one teen to the other,feeling pleased that all three of them were listening to what he was tellingthem and understanding his point. They were good kids; he never had any doubtsabout that. “So what I’m saying here is that those ground rules are not set toground you in a small, precious box or stop you from being normal teenagers,they are just here to make you responsible and give you the chance to accomplishyour dreams and your decisions. Live your life, fall in love, make mistakes buttake advice from us once in a while because we’re here to help you thriveand witness you become the best versions of yourselves.” He ended his smalllecture with a fatherly smile, receiving a sweet one back from Betty and atight one from his son in gratitude at how amazing of a dad he was being.Jughead just gulped and hang his head lower, feeling vulnerable and touched bythe affection in his words and deeply ashamed that he possibly mistreated histrust.

“Mr. Andrews I’m sorry.” Bettywhispered softly with one of her sweetest expressions, feeling the need toapologize for their previous reckless behavior that partly was fueled by her.She deeply wished her parents were anything like him and she appreciated somuch that fact that he treated her equally, just like his son. She saw Jugheadnodding with the corner of her eyes, agreeing with her statement and heremotional state, and the girl offered him a small smile of affection.

“I’m not expecting an apologyfrom you Betty” Fred chuckled lightly at how well-mannered and kind-hearted shewas “you didn’t do anything wrong.” He assured both her and Jughead. “And youknow that you are always welcomed in this house. But I would appreciate it, sinceyou and Jug are now together, your visits to be strictly between business hoursfrom now on.” Both teens nodded vigorously in agreement, Fred smiling at themand the couple doing the same, a silent confirmation that everything was okbetween the three of them. “Same goes for Valerie, son, if you let her know.”Archie nodded too with the same level of vigor, wanting to please his dad.

A wave of relief spread insidethe small bedroom as every tension was resolved before Fred Andrews spokeagain.

“Okay, now, Archie and I havealready had this conversation but since you two are starting to get intimate Iguess a repetition will not harm anyone. First and foremost; protection.” BothJughead’s and Betty’s jaws fell to the floor and their cheeks turned scarletred in a mere matter of seconds, the two teens drowning in embarrassment onceagain, as Archie groaned in complain dropping back on the bed, his headcolliding with the wall with a loud thud.

“We’re not doing that.” Jughead tried to save them boththe humiliation, his whole face scrunching up in a grimace that showcasedperfectly his uneasiness.

“Well, considering how wefound you today and the” Fred gulped a tad uneasily too “bra that is currently lying between us on the floor” Betty whinedat that, opening her mouth to say an excuse but in the end she just offered agrimace to the older man before hiding her face on Jughead’s shoulder, herboyfriend shifting uneasily too and averting his eyes to the window with a gulp“I’m guessing you are going to sooner or later.”

“Can I go?” Archie’s strainedvoice and tortured groan echoed from under a pillow that he had used to shieldhimself from the conversation.

“I don’t think listening tohow you can protect yourself and your significant other is going to bother youso much.” Fred replied to his son’s childish behavior.

“Mr. Andrews, we—” Betty foundher voice again and tried to secure hers and Jughead’s privacy but Fred cut heroff.

“You are teenagers and youfeel strange talking about such stuff with us grown-ups, I know.” He told hertruthfully. “But it’s all part of life, there’s nothing to feel ashamed about,and, again, we as parents need to give you advice. Now I get it that you, Betty,will feel more comfortable talking about sex with your mom or another femalefor that matter” the two teens in question were shifting uneasily and stealingglances of each other “but you, Jug, if you need anything to ask or you’rewondering about technics or, you know, practical stuff…” Jughead’s face was amask of horror and humiliation, the boy wishing for the ground to shallow himwhole at that very moment because, seriously, he was in a room with his bestfriend and his dream girlfriend and Fred Andrews was talking about dicks andhow to use them. His life couldn’t get more surreal than that.

“Dude, can you get your dad todraw a line?” he leaned forward to spat at his friend that was still coveredwith the pillow, desperately wishing to disappear too.

“Seriously dad, can you not?” Archieunburied his face, red from the pressure of the pillow and his blood pressure,huffing at his oblivious father. “Betty is in this room too, you know.” He backedup his friend, dreading even the thought of the roles being reversed and himbeing at Jughead’s shoes in front of Valerie or any girl he was interested in.The raven haired boy groaned a ‘thank you’ at Archie’s rarely correct input.

Fred seized the situation fora minute, looking at the two boys unsure, but hopefully he decided to drop it. “Fine.”He huffed and there was a synchronized relieved huff from the three teens infront of him too. “We can discuss this alone.” He turned to Jughead to warn himthat his torture was going to be prolonged, the boy just shaking his headaccepting his faith, at least grateful that Betty wasn’t going to be there towitness this sex talk of shame.

“Alright, enough with that, I’mgonna go get dinner ready.” Archie’s dad announced as he pushed himself off thedesk.

“And I think I’m going to headhome.” Betty stood up cautiously, awkward hand movements accompanying her wordsas she tried not to get caught in any crossfire again. She quickly snatched herundergarment from the floor in shame, closing it securely against her chest andstealing a last glance from Jughead, the two silently agreeing to call eachother later and vent about this whole situation they walked right in, beforeshe walked to the door.  

“Oh and Betty” her messy golden locks swayed violently as she turned in lightning speed at the mention of her name,halting her steps just as she was about to walk out “now that Jughead livesacross you too, can you please not flash him your underwear through the window?I would very much appreciate that too.” The older man said in a stoicexpression as Betty’s face lost its color, the girl shifting her weightuncomfortably from one leg to the other and Jughead dropped his head to thefloor once again with a huffing ‘oh man’ of despair. Seriously why Fred Andrewshad to be so observant and awake atnights?

The girl winced in remorse,opening her mouth to say something but only broken whines of uneasiness cameout. She finally settled for a forced and hesitant ‘ok’, cheeks rosy and all,before she practically run away, knowing that she would never be able to lookFred Andrews in the eye again.

He followed her lead with apromise to the boys to fix them their favorite meal, pizza, and the two friendsstayed in silence for a couple of minutes before Archie burst into loudlaughter.

“What?” Jughead frowned athim, still clearly irritated by the interruption of him and Betty and the hellthat followed after that.

“Nothing, everything.” Archieexclaimed through his chuckles. “It’s just hilarious having a brother.” He toldhim truthfully, the redhead boy feeling the happiest now that Jughead wasliving with them.

Jughead felt his heart swellat that; he always considered Archie something like a brother too and aftereverything that had gone down between them, he really did think that theirrelationship was in ruins, something that he terribly regretted. Hearing Archielabeling him as part of his family was moving, to say the least.

“Well brother, thanks for telling on me and making me an impotent writerby turning my laptop into a worthless piece of computer parts.” He fakedbitterness but the smirk that was dancing on his chapped lips indicated thatall was good between them and his sardonic self was back.

“You told on me too, remember?”Archie threw back in the same manor. “I guess we both screwed each other up andnow there’s no fun for either of us.” He shrugged feeling bummed at the wholesituation because the two of them had a plan and a secret bro arrangement as towho was sneaking in or out and when but after today this was going to have tochange.

Jughead sighed disappointedtoo, stealing a glance from Betty’s window across them and seeing it dimly litbut with the blinds shut, knowing that his girlfriend would be neck deep in embarrassmentat this point, meaning that he would not get his goodnight kiss through thewindow like always.

“Lucky for you, I am a goodperson.” Archie’s voice made him focus his attention back on his friend, seeingthe redhead reach his backpack and retrieve something from inside, beforeoffering it to Jughead with a sideways smile.

“No!” the boy exclaimed indelight at the sight of the charger of his laptop. “Archie Andrews, I take backwhichever mean thing I ever said to you! You are a legend!” he laughed happily,fidgeting with the black cable, still not believing it.

“Well, you could help mechange the lock in your room plus clean all the construction glue mess, becausedefinitely the old man is going to make me do it.” The redhead pleaded with ahopeful smile.

“Oh, he should.” Jughead stoodup to stroll lazily to the door. “You made the mess, I’m out of it.” He offeredhim a cocky smile.

“You’re awful.” Archienarrowed his eyes at him with a disbelieving scoff.

“Plan your pranks better.” Theraven haired boy said in an annoying sing-sung voice while exiting the room.

“Hide your girlfriend’s brasbetter.” The ginger used the same tone to aggravate him.

“I’M GONNA GET YOU HARD FORTHIS ONE, ANDREWS.” Jughead shouted from somewhere down the hall maliciously,before picking up his ringing phone and locking himself in the bathroom once hegreeted Betty with a silly smile.

“Oh, it’s so on!” Archie murmuredto himself with a laugh, taking hold of his guitar to practice some new tunes,happy that he had such awesome friends in his life.

[mikevrivera]

Uber’s dismissive treatment of employee’s sexism claims is all too typical in the sector

Uber has suffered a spate of bad publicity in recent days after allegations of harassment and discrimination from a former software engineer.

In a blog post, Susan Fowler described being propositioned by her supervisor within weeks of starting her job.

She complained to the human resources (HR) team. According to Fowler, the supervisor received a “warning and a stern talking-to” but no other discipline at the time because he was a strong performer and it was his “first offense.”

Uber then offered her a choice: Transfer to another team or stay and risk a retaliatory performance review from the harasser.

Fowler also described a larger pattern of harassment, discrimination and retaliation. Others reported being harassed by the same manager, apparently contradicting what HR told her.

Fowler’s performance review was downgraded, making her ineligible for a subsidised graduate program. When Fowler asked a director about “dwindling” representation of women in the division, he attributed it to their failure to step up and be better engineers.

When Uber ordered leather jackets for engineers, they were ordered only for men. Apparently, there weren’t enough women to qualify for a bulk discount.

Fowler complained repeatedly. HR responded with escalating indifference, ultimately suggesting that Fowler herself was the problem.

After Fowler’s post went viral, Uber sought to distance itself from the incident and hired former Attorney General Eric Holder to investigate. CEO Travis Kalanick issued a response:

“What she describes is abhorrent and against everything Uber stands for and believes in.”

Fowler’s story – which Uber neither confirmed nor denied – is not unique in the tech sector, where women remain underrepresented.

Women make up only 12% of engineers. These women face substantial headwinds.

In a survey of women in the tech sector, 84% reported being told they were “too aggressive” and 59% said they were offered fewer opportunities than male counterparts.

The majority also reported receiving unwanted sexual advances. And of those that reported the harassment, 60% were unhappy with the company’s response.

The Uber story provides a window into how companies have developed HR infrastructure to address anti-discrimination laws. These structures occupy a marginalised status within organisations.

As I learned while working as an employment lawyer at a large law firm, legal mandates rarely disrupt business objectives.

Instead, they are largely viewed as an inconvenience delegated to HR. That explains, for example, why the CEO learned about Fowler’s allegations only after they went viral.

Symbolic structures

Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act safeguards an employee’s right to equal opportunity in the workplace.

It initially protected an employee against discrimination in hiring, pay, promotion and termination. Courts later expanded definitions of discrimination to include harassment. Title VII also protects employees from retaliation for complaining about discrimination or harassment.

As sociologist Lauren Edelman documents in a recent book, employers responded to civil rights laws by setting up complaint processes for employees. She argues that these processes are less focused on meaningfully assuring equal opportunity and more about creating the appearance of compliance.

The ‘first bite is free’

According to Edelman, courts have become complicit in this development, crediting employers for superficial procedures without assessing whether they actually work.

The Supreme Court’s decision in Faragher v. City of Boca Raton is a case in point.

The case gives employers a defence in harassment cases if they took reasonable measures to prevent and correct harassment and the victim unreasonably failed to make use of internal complaint mechanisms.

However, courts don’t require employers to do very much to satisfy the defence. Merely adopting and distributing a policy gets an employer credit, as does adopting an investigation process.

Courts do not require employers to take strong disciplinary action against the harasser. Rather, they need only take action reasonably calculated to stop the harassment – even if it does not.

In theory, a plaintiff would still have a viable claim if they used the employer’s complaint procedure. But one empirical study found that even short delays in reporting the harassment can be considered “unreasonable” on the victim’s part.

So if a victim waits a few months to report the harassment, and the employer goes through the motions of investigating and responding, the victim may be out of luck.

This doesn’t give employers much of an incentive to crack down on harassment. As one scholar observed, it essentially allows employers to escape liability for a harasser’s first offence. In other words, the “first bite is free.”

This helps to explain Uber’s underwhelming response to Fowler’s initial complaint.

Uber wasn’t really on the hook for the “first report” and did not have a strong incentive to punish the harasser. For Fowler’s harasser, that meant a “warning and a stern talking-to.”

It’s just a ‘business decision’

Lauren Edelman’s research also documented a tendency among HR and lawyers to characterise civil rights obligations as “legal risks.”

This is consistent with how I talked to employers when I worked as an employment lawyer. I offered advice on “legal risks” while they were tasked with making “business decisions” on how to proceed.

However, this frame ultimately treats legal rules as one of many factors to take into account (or ignore) when employers make important decisions.

Consider Fowler’s situation. Uber evidently considered Fowler’s harasser to be an economically valuable employee that might be difficult to replace.

Transferring the harasser to another team or terminating his employment likely would have been costly. By contrast, offering Fowler a transfer seemed a cheaper alternative, notwithstanding its effect on Fowler and the increased litigation risk.

When framed as a business decision, companies have a tendency to displace the victim of the harassment to preserve the profits associated with a high-flying harasser.

Swatting mosquitoes while ignoring the termites

Fowler’s allegations of sexual harassment have received a lot of press attention, but in many ways her allegations of systemic discrimination and retaliation were more troubling.

The director’s comment that women weren’t stepping up. The altered performance evaluation that cost Fowler a spot at grad school. The leather jackets.

HR was even less responsive to these complaints than to the harassment allegations and blamed the problem on Fowler herself.

Why? They may not have believed her.

But HR may have been limited in its capacity to fix the underlying problem. Yes, it could have paid for the leather jackets, addressed the doctored performance evaluations or scolded the director for his sexist comment.

But HR, on its own, is poorly situated to fix a business culture that is indifferent to (or in denial about) offering meaningful opportunities for advancement to women or other minorities in the workplace.

As political scientist Frank Dobbin has argued, human resources professionals have long struggled to establish their legitimacy within organisations. They are rarely the locus of power within corporations, which instead resides in revenue-generating departments like engineering and sales, and in the executives that preside over the business.

HR advises. Business decides.

Rooting out discrimination

Business leaders make a Faustian bargain when they outsource civil rights compliance to HR and lawyers. They gain credible symbols of compliance.

But they also lose touch with a business identity that includes doing right by their employees. As Mary Gentile argues in her book, “Giving Voice to Values,” we lose touch with our shared values when we define work roles too narrowly.

In retrospect, Uber’s decision to side with the harasser over Fowler was a bad business move. All the bad press has reinforced existing narratives of Uber as a bad actor. But the decision was also – to use a word that has fallen out of favor in the business vernacular – wrong.

Until business leaders view themselves as guardians of civil rights, those rights will continue to be framed as a tax on profits rather than important values to uphold.

Elizabeth C. Tippett is an Assistant Professor at the School of Law, University of Oregon. 

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

Follow StartupSmart on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and iTunes.

The post Uber’s dismissive treatment of employee’s sexism claims is all too typical in the sector appeared first on StartupSmart.

from StartupSmart http://www.startupsmart.com.au/advice/growth/young-entrepreneurs/ubers-dismissive-treatment-of-employees-sexism-claims-is-all-too-typical-in-the-sector/