#sometimes you just have to stick your tongue down your annoying coworker's throat

[murderandcoffee]

I think that alice and gwen should make out sloppy style

[saebyeog-i]

soft | njm (m)

genre | office romance au / slight humor, smut lol

rating/warnings | stream of consciousness bs / alcohol consumption / semi public sex {oral, m receiving; mentions of breathplay} / slightly unedited whoops

word count | drabble! 2.1k because I don’t know how to shut up

pairing | IT Worker!Jaemin x reader

—

When you start your new job, you realize pretty quickly that Jaemin from IT wears sweaters all the time in the office. Even in the summer. Even when it’s 95 degrees outside, because he gets cold easily and they always blast the AC too much indoors.

He’s a very soft and unassuming character, and he’s the youngest person on his team by at least ten years, and during your first meeting when he’s getting your work station set up in your office he tells you he just likes that he gets paid to play around with computers all day and that’s why he keeps the job.

“Couldn’t you be a software engineer or something? Make far more money and not have to answer dumb computer questions all the time?” You ask offhandedly, and then realize you’ve insinuated that he’s paid poorly. You attempt to back pedal your statement, but he’s not the least bit offended.

He chuckles, eyes crinkling and he shakes his head. “I get paid plenty well for this job, and besides, I never have any tight deadlines or work overtime. I don’t exactly dream of extra and strenuous labor.”

He wears sweaters that are two sizes too big for him, made up of bright obnoxious colors and gaudy patterns that would usually make you fake vomit at seeing them on a real life human. But he makes them look charming, somehow. Grandpa sweaters, you call them, even to his face, with patterns that just make you gag. Never a sweater vest, mind you, only ever a full pull over knit sweater, with the occasional cardigan over a long sleeve turtleneck. Over time, you see a variety of patterns and colors, and you think he must have an endless supply of them.

You’re not bad with computers by any means, but you do like to bat your eyelashes and have other people do things for you when you can. You’re admittedly a little bit lazy, not stupid, and besides, he’s much faster at fixing any issues than you are, why waste time trying to figure it out yourself?

You think it’s cute, the way he smiles with his eyes and chuckles quietly whenever he comes to your office to fulfill a help desk ticket. You like the way he smiles at you and the way he’ll compliment your outfits, how soft and unassuming his words always are, and never cringe worthy like that older man in marketing who thinks he’s being nice but is in fact just being slightly creepy. When you tell your roommate about Jaemin from IT complimenting your new dress in the kitchen as you made your morning coffee, she asks if you have a thing for him because of how often you bring him up in your stories from work.

“Oh, no, definitely not— he’s soft, but a little too soft, you know? Need me a bit of a freak, someone who wouldn’t be opposed to like, I dunno, choking me if I said I was into that,” you sigh, trying to imagine the soft and pixie-like Jaemin from IT with his hands around your neck. It doesn’t compute. “Besides, I think he puts like, eight shots of espresso in his coffee, his cum probably tastes like battery acid,” you sigh into your yogurt as your roommate crinkles her nose one morning before you both depart for work. You move on from the brief idea, and think you’ll stick to just enjoying sweet and innocent Jaemin that wears oversizes sweaters from afar instead.

On anyone else, the fashion sense would be annoying.

But not on Jaemin.

He’s soft and squishy and kind of adorable with the way he scrunches up his nose when he laughs, and the endearing way he explains to the older company employees how to run the Microsoft Office automatic software updates to get the latest version of Excel and PowerPoint. He does his best to teach them how to do it on their own to give them a sense of accomplishment and understanding of the technology they rely on but seem to have no hope at operating beyond the basic level needed for their jobs (but still doing it for them anyways, with patience and a smile and never a complaint).

It’s an attractive quality, you have to admit, and if he wasn’t the walking embodiment of marshmallow fluff you’d think more about him. But he is, so you don’t, and instead sigh out loud as you watch him huff and blow the fluffy bangs out of his eyes as he’s crouched under your desk, re-running the wires for your office phone.

You’ve always had a bad habit of mumbling your thoughts out loud when you’re distracted, and sometimes he’ll catch you cursing out the equipment or your supervisors for not knowing the difference between something you’d deem as basic for your department or field. He finds it charming, thinks it makes you more candid and honest and it’s a different side of you than the one who bats her eyelashes and files help desk tickets when she could easily do something herself. You’re taken aback by this comment, because you didn’t count him for someone that would keep track of something like that, which you admit to him in slight disbelief.

“Oh believe me, I’m more observant than you think I am,” he chimes mysteriously as his fingers glide across your keyboard, entering his admin password to run another round of program installations and software upgrades.

You don’t think much of it when he’s the only person who fulfills your tickets for six months straight.

Not until the holiday party, anyways.

At the holiday party, it’s an open bar and everyone is dressed UP up. You expect to see Jaemin in another grandpa print sweater two sizes too big for him— that is, if the soft boy shows at all. Company holiday parties like this don’t scream ‘Jaemin from IT’ at you, given that from what your more seasoned coworkers have told you about years past, after tonight you can expect at least one person to end up suspended or fired for behavior; that and the Company President gives everyone an Uber code for a free ride home since they already know how absolutely wasted everyone plans on getting.

To your surprise, Jaemin from IT does in fact show up at the holiday party. You spot him as soon as he enters, about an hour into the party itself, and he slips into the crowd and makes his way to the bar. You were expecting a tacky Christmas sweater on him, but instead, he’s dressed in the exact opposite.

Instead, he’s got his hair styled up (a first, and you never realized how badly you wanted to see his forehead before) and instead of a gaudy array of colors and patterns, he’s wearing a nicely tailored suit in a rich wine color with a black button down underneath.

When he waves from across the room and approaches you just to be friendly and say hi, you’re definitely caught off guard enough that you don’t realize you’ve mumbled out “How is that fair? How can he look like THAT outside of a sweater and then not let me just suck his dick right here?”

Jaemin blinks for a moment, taken by surprise, when he realizes it’s that same candid habit of yours and you haven’t realized you’ve said it out loud. His mouth curls into a smile and he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek and gets nice and close, close enough to flirtatiously whisper “Well if you insist, though I’m sure we could find somewhere a bit more... private.”

And then you’re so caught off guard by confident sexy suit wearing Jaemin you think he’s read your mind for until you realize what you said out loud. But he’s into the idea given the fact that he doesn��t run in fear from your words and fuck it, so are you, and he’s not just cute and squishy anymore he’s fucking hot in that suit and with his dark hair styled just so, so you feel flirty and courageous when you say “You know I think I like the suit over the grandpa sweaters, but I think I’d like the suit even better on the floor.”

After the way his mouth ticks upward in a smile, the movements are all a blur that you can’t quite separate out into discrete events: downing you drink, linking hands with him, scurrying off towards the single occupancy restroom furthest from the dance floor and bolting the lock so you can be sure as shit that when your lips crash against his and then your knees hit the floor there will be no interruptions.

“Funny,” you say, trailing kisses down his throat after a moment, “Never thought I’d see you as anything but soft.” The admittance and double entendre are entirely intentional and you know that he knows.

“Seems like now’s a good as time as any to pay back all those superfluous ticket requests,” he breaths out, and your lips curl into a grin as your fingers find their way to his belt and tug his dress pants down.

“If you insist,” you tease back his words from earlier, sinking to your knees all too happily.

You take him into your mouth easily, relishing in the groans and shaky exhales that comes from his perfect lips as his fingers thread through your hair and his grip tightens. A fire deep in your belly ignites at the noises, enjoying how easily you can make the man you thought so soft and unassuming fall apart at just a run of your tongue and a hollowing of your cheeks.

“Fucking shit don’t do that unless—”

He’s cut off by his own groan as you run your tongue along his slit once before taking him as afar back in your throat as you can manage, then he’s cumming in your mouth with a high pitched shaky whine.

When he’s finished, you make an obscene show of his cum in your mouth for him and curl your tongue back as you swallow, wiping away the excess saliva with the heel of your palm. “Pay back enough?” You ask surreptitiously as you rise back to your feet, dusting off the skirt of your cocktail dress.

Jaemin from IT digs his fingers into your hips and pulls you close to him, a growl deep in the back of his throat before his lips clash against yours, “All that and then some.”

His fingers link with yours after as he hurriedly drags you from the bathroom to the exit of the venue, waving haphazardly at his team members before launching the ride share app and tapping in the provided code for that free ride. “I meant it when I said your wardrobe is both flattering and professional,” he hums, “But out of respect for your sense of style, I’ll refrain from tearing any garment off of you and provide a hangar for it instead. Deal?”

The words are so forward and presumptuous. You can’t help but feel a little turned on by the action, however, and find yourself scoffing as you smile and stick a hand out for him to shake, “Deal.”

So even though you’d maybe been hoping to get a bit more free alcohol out of the company holiday party, you’re celebrating some much better company some thirty, forty minutes later, once you’re out of the car and your bare back is pressed against the locked front door of his apartment as Jaemin from IT fucks into you in a way that is the absolute opposite from soft, just as he’d promised. And when you’d moaned it out and asked, he happily agreed to (delicately, tenderly) lay his hand on your throat and apply pressure.

Your expensive cocktail dress rests on a hanger on the coat rack in his living room, just like he’d promised. You don’t put it back on until the following afternoon. And then again a year later, when you enter the company holiday party arm in arm with Jaemin from IT— Na Jaemin, you’d finally learned and committed to memory his last name after that first night, who was now your boyfriend.

“You know I didn’t take you for an outfit repeater,” he teases, this year arriving on time (at your behest) and wearing an all black suit save for the glittering of the jeweled pinstripes on his jacket.

You roll your eyes and tug him towards you by his neck tie. “Who’s fault is it that not enough people got to appreciate this dress last year, hm?”

He looks up in thought playfully for a moment before answering, “The sweaters?”

You press another kiss to his lips, this one a little less aggressively and a little bit softer (like you liked him, you’d come to find out) and reply, “Yeah, definitely the sweaters.”

—

author’s note | I originally wrote this in my dm’s to Clover half asleep at 6:30 in the morning on a Saturday and she told me she’d sue if I didn’t post it, so, here, lol have the expanded version that I wrote after chugging a glass of Reisling and a shot of Jameson at 10pm last night.

[johnismyreason]

I have a request for a oneshot! Meeting tom in a bar, chatting, flirting, ending up at his place and having $ex🔥

It always takes me so much time to write something I’m sorry... Anyway I hope you’ll enjoy :) 

warnings: smutt, alcohol (kinda), praise kink, no foreplay, dom-ish!tom, and obviously the usual bad English 

The longest day ever. Ugh.

It was one of those days where you just think I just should’ve stayed in bed. Your alarm clock didn’t ring. You cracked your favourite pair of jeans right before heading out, making you running late even more. Your boss gave you yet another assignment in addition of you hundred of other ones. Stacy, your favourite co-worker, wasn’t here because she was on vacation with her boyfrie- fiancé now, wow she just texted you a selfie with her ring, and you remain single. Someone spilled their coffee on your shirt and didn’t even apologise. And finally hen you thought nothing bad can happen anymore, the rain was pouring. Of course you didn’t take your umbrella or a coat with a hood. Thank you London shitty weather. And of course, a car splashed the only puddle of water all over you. You wanted to cry, scream and burn everything down. You lift your head and read in bright red lighting the holy word “PUB”. Hallelujah. You didn’t even think about it, you just walked in.

The place was almost empty, which didn’t bother you at all, since you had enough interactions with humans for the day, maybe even for the week.

You sat at the bar, your coat drenched, your hair sticking to your face, your make up was gone and your mascara left black ink under your eyes. You were sticky and looked gross, but you couldn’t care less anymore. After three minutes with your head between your hands and elbows on the counter, the bartender bring you a shot of vodka.

“Wait,” you called him, “I didn’t order yet”

“Yeah, well, the guy over there got this for you” he replied, pointing at a curly hair young man sat on the banquette behind you, who, with a tight smile, waved shyly at you with just two fingers.

You looked at him with your tired eyes. Shit, he’s cute. He must has a weird obsession for desperate girls. You take the small glass and poured it down your throat.

“Thank you,” you told him a little louder than expected but you didn’t bother pretending you were sorry for three other customers. The young man got up and walked towards you, his bottle of beer in his hand.

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, seating on the stool next to yours. “You looked like you needed it” he chuckled.

“T’was that obvious ?”

He chuckled again before replying “a bit.” and you smiled lightly too. He didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, just looking at you. “I’m Tom by the way” he introduced himself and extended his hand to you.

You looked at his hand, a little surprised by his traditional behaviour, but took it anyways “Y/N”

“Nice to meet you Y/N”. Another smile appeared on his thin lips . He was really cute. “So, what happened ? It seems like you had a rough day, don’t you ?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer. His jaw was sharp and his fingers were long and thin around the bottle.

“You wouldn’t want to know, it’s too long, and boring, and sad and... yeah, pathetic” you said, your head resting on your palm, staring at the counter.

“Well thank god we have all night, and you might think it’s an odd coincidence but, boring, sad and pathetic stories are my favourite.”

You thought about it. He’s a stranger in the creepiest pub in London, you don’t know nothing about him, and he doesn’t know nothing about you. You look a mess and weird, you’re drenched, why does he want to know about your day ?

“You like desperate girls, don’t you ?” you finally said.

“What ?” Tom replied, genuinely confused.

“Or maybe you’re the desperate one and is ready to pick the most rubbish looking girl, as long as you can have your release” you teased

“N-no, no ! I-I just... I saw you by the window getting splashed by the car, I felt so bad for you and I hoped you would come in so I can offer you a drink. I-I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’ll leave-”

“Wait !” you stopped him from getting out of his stool, placing your hand on his forearm. Now you felt bad. He’s the first and only person today who didn’t annoy you in any kind of way. “Please, stay. It’s been a long day. A very long day” you sighed. Tom sat back on his stool with a tight smile. He ordered two other beers for him and you.

“Wanna talk about it ?” he gently proposed. You nodded and started your narrative. You gave all the details, from the sound of your ripped jeans, the tone of the unkind comment your coworker spat after pouring his coffee on you, to the very beautiful diamond your friend got when she got proposed to what seemed the perfect guy. Tom listened to everything, and kept his focus on your eyes, sometimes your lips, but just for a second. You finished your story after what felt like 10 hours of speaking.

“Wow... that was... a fucking shitty day” he chuckled bringing you warmth to your heart.

You chuckled “I’ll drink to that,” taking your beer and clinked it with his. You sighed dramatically and turned to him.

“What about yours ?”

“Mine ?” he said after taking a sip. “Well, it was way less interesting than yours” he laughed. “Um... I woke up. Got to the grocery store, worked out, watched TV, worked and got to this bar. And now I’m talking to a very pretty girl.” you blushed, not expecting him to say that.

“I bet she smells like flowers” you roasted yourself.

“More like a wet dog but that’s light” Tom teased and you hit him lightly on his arm. You both laughed lightly.

“We’re closing,” the bartender cut you.

“It’s only 9 o’clock...” you responded, your eyebrows frowned.

“We’re closing,” he repeated.

You looked at Tom, rolling your eyes “It’s because of my bad luck, I’m sorry.”

“Oh don’t be. This gives me the opportunity to ask you if you want to come to me place, have another drink.” he asked shyly, putting the money on the counter.

You looked at him awkwardly stuffing his hand in his jean pockets, waiting for your response. He’s really cute. Fuck it, let’s go. You bit your lip into a smile and nodded a yes. His eyes widened.

“Really ? Great ! Um, let’s go then,” he let you walk first towards the door but opened it for you. He told that his appartement is just a few minutes walking from here.

You followed him in the almost empty streets, talking about everything and mostly about him. He was nice and funny and it felt like you knew him for years. He led you to his building and then apartment which was gigantic next to yours. He took your coat and offered you to dry your hair  with his hairdryer while he sets everything to eat. You agreed and followed him in his bathroom. You came back in the kitchen where Tom was preparing dinner. There was a central counter illuminated by three industrial-style lamps. Tom had a folded tea towel on his shoulder and seemed very concentrated on cooking his dish.

“Pasta alla tomato,” he announced with a proud smile and his fingers pinched together, noticing you coming back from the bathroom.

“I’m not quite sure, that’s how Italians call it” you laughed standing next to him.

“Who cares ? It’s gonna be delicious,” he smirked. “Wanna taste ?” he asked with a low voice, his spoon ready to make you taste the tomato sauce. You nodded eagerly, making him chuckle. You parted your lips and leaned towards him, welcoming the spoon in your mouth. You moaned at the taste and watched his pupils dilate for a split second.

“It is delicious,” you confirmed licking your lips. Tom watched your tongue dancing on your mouth and felt his heart beating fast. Suddenly, it was too hot in the room.

“We um... we should take some plates,” he tried to resonate him. He moved around you to grab two plates, forks and knives and placed it on the counter, in front of the chairs.

You kept talking about life and laughed at the strangest stories you two lived. You were having the best time. Tom was nice, funny and it felt like you knew each others for years. Everything since the bar was simple and comfortable. Also, he was really cute. You couldn’t take off your eyes of him. You admired the stain of curls falling on his forehead, and how his biceps contrat when he runs his hand through his hair to replace it. The little wrinkles around his eyes when he was smiling and the joyful burst of his voice as he laughs.

You also noticed a small stain of tomato sauce on his jaw, and without thinking about it, cutting Tom in his sentence, you swiped your thumb over it and brung it to your lips. Before you could reach your mouth, Tom stopped you, interlacing your hand with his fingers, pulling it to his face. He plunged his gaze into yours and wrapped his lips around your thumb. He licked softly your digit without breaking the eye contact. You stopped breathing, your heart pounding in your ears.

“That was mine,” he almost groaned. He then kissed delicately your other fingers while you starred at his lips and his face. He sometimes made eye contact with, making you loose your mind, before closing his eyes refocusing your fingers. He pulled gently on your wrist close to make you lean towards him. Your faces are a few inches away and the tension is so thick, the space between you is barely breathable.

“Y/N,” Tom whispered “please let me kiss you” he tilted his head waiting for your answer. Your breath was jerky, your pupils dilated and all your senses in turmoil. You leaned a little more, closing your eyes and nodded slowly.

Tom placed his other free hand on your cheek and closed the space between you. His lips were warm and rough at the same time, but his kisses were soft and caring. He wanted to make you feel good. The leaned position wasn’t the most comfortable though. So without breaking the kiss, Tom guided you up and sat you on his lap.

“Hm, much better” he said between kisses. You giggled and ran your hands through his soft curls. Tom navigated his lips down your neck and sucked on your hot skin. You tilted your head back giving him all the space he needed. Tom then traced his way down to your chest, his hands running up and down your back, waist and hips. You gently pulled on his curls to bring back his lips on your mouth, both whining and moaning.

“Tom, I need more... so much more” you desperately moaned out of breath. He didn’t say anything. He just got up, holding you around his chest and walked to his bedroom. After letting you falling gracefully on his bed he got up and took off his tight t-shirt. You discovered his muscular features, making you want to touch it.

“Give me your hands,” he nicely ordered. And you obeyed. He placed your palms on his pecs and slowly ran them all over his upper body. Your eyes stared frantically every inch of his skin, in awe of his features. Tom looked at your face with a slight smirk, admiring you.

“You like what see ?” that was so cocky yet so hot. You would gave laughed if it was anyone else, but there was something about him that was so hypnotising.

“I really do,” you whispered, still caressing him.

“Y/N, can I take off your clothes” he gently demanded, lingering his long fingers on your arms.

“Please,” you whimpered. Tom took the time to kiss you before pulling up your almost tired t-shirt and bra.

“Gorgeous,” he groaned and ran his warm hand on your breast. You moaned his name when you felt his lips around your nipples. “you’re so beautiful Y/N”. He pushed you against the mattress, stil sucking on your buds. He slid his hands down your body to take off your panties. “Can I take these off ?”

“Yes, you can” you answered desperately. He wasted no time and admired your glistening core.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you” Tom got up and grabbed a condom in his bathroom. When he came back he stumbled while taking off his boxers, making you giggle at his eagerness. He almost jumped on the bed and placed the condom on his very hard cock. You looked at him with wanting eyes, licking your lips.

“Do I need to work you out a little ?”

“No, no, don’t worry about that, you’ve done enough” you giggled and he responded the same way. “Please, I just need you...” you whimpered. Tom leaned on you to kiss you, and ever so smoothly entered you. You both moaned loudly.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel amazing” he stayed immobile for a little while so you can accommodate to him, until you moved your hips. He got the message and started thrusting gently but deeply.

Tom never stoped kissing you. On your lips, your cheeks, your neck... every bit on your skin that was reachable was showered by his lips. It was like a drug to him. You couldn’t get your hands off of his body, running them on his back, abs, chest and hair tugging a little on his curls. And each time your did that, he groaned and moaned. He made the prettiest sounds and you were loving it. Tom sped up his movements, holding close to him.

“Tom... umm you feel so good ! Gosh, please don’t stop”, you praised him and deepened his thrusts. They were more calculated, more passionate. Seeing him responding to your praises this way, made you want even more from him, so you continued.

“Um, yes just like that, oh fuck ! Tom, fuck you feel amazing !” he became animalistic in his thrusts and you felt your orgasm getting closer.

“You like this cock pretty girl ? um ?” he groaned in your ear “do you feel how perfect it is for you ? how it makes you loose yourself ? I feel you clenching baby...” his thrusts sped up even harder wanting you to release your pleasure “cum for me Y/N, I’m right behind you. God, fuck- your pussy feels so good, so tight !”

Your nails scratched his back, searching for something to hold onto, you arched your spine and let your orgasm took over you. Tom thrusted a few more times before he cums in you, moans and groans filling the air. He relaxed his body on top of yours, both you regaining your breath. Who knew, after spending the worst day ever, you would end up in a stranger’s bed. Tom eventually rolled on the side, giggling.

“What’s so funny ?” you asked a bit embarrassed.

“Nothing, nothing,” he reassured you, kissing you softly, “it was just... mind-blowing.” You felt your cheeks heat up against his palm.

“I know,” your confirmed. “Thank you for brighting up my day” you joked.

“Anytime, love !” Tom smiled before hesitantly asking you “actually, I was thinking, maybe we could go on a date, or something... I spent a really good time with you. I’m not only talking about the sex, huh, it was an amazing evening.”

You bit your lips and kissed him delicately “I would love that. I had a great time too”

[nicka-nell]

Osamu, fluff, 13, 30, childhood friends and Ukai, angst, 26, 46 thanks!

A heartbreaking break-up (Ukai x reader)

Childhood friends to lovers (Osamu x reader)

Aiii Ukai angst. Poor old man, I love him, but well I hope it’s angsty enough. TT.TT I hope you like it ♥

Valentine’s Day - Prompt Event | Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Ukai x reader

Warning: angst, a hint of nsfw, cheating, break-up, mention of alcohol

Prompts:

26. “They don’t need to know.”

46. “Did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?”

In a relationship, there are always difficulties. You too had experienced a lot together. At that time you were still a manager in the last school year, when Ukai came to your school and started as a coach.

You had gotten along well, and it didn’t take long for both of you to understand that there was a closer connection between you than between all the others. It didn’t take long for the two of you to be alone in the gym, which you still wanted to clean up when he had unexpectedly kissed you. It also happened quickly that the two of you had decided on this secret love, because as long as you were in school, no one should know that you were together.

It was hard for you to act like you always did. Also, for him it was difficult at that time to see how the boys had flirted with you and he could do nothing about it. You fought a lot, but after you graduated, everything was different.

You could officially go outside as a couple, were in love and had rarely arguments. If you’ve had a fight, it’s about things that every couple argues about. Sometimes it was about Ukai always putting his coffee cup on the dishwasher, and not directly into it, or also about you always sticking your hair to the tiles under the shower and not rinsing them away.

Now over five years have passed, unfortunately, everyday life catches up with you before you graduate. Because you fight repeatedly. Mostly for no reason for small things that degenerate into a big argument.

So far that you lie in bed crying while Ukai sleeps on your sofa in the living room. Sometimes he was even away for days, had used the room in his shop as a retreat. Yet he was always the one who came back, who had apologized and told you over and over again that you could do everything together. Still, everything feels weird to you.

You meet your old schoolmate and talk to him about all your worries and fears. But he only tells you that you should not worry and should just trust Ukai. And so you do. This time, you want to trust him more, want to be the one who apologizes to him for all your disputes.

So you go to his favorite whisky shop. You look there for a whisky he does not have yet and also buy him a pack of his favorite cigarettes as well as a book with different volleyball strategies. That would certainly help him as a coach.

Adorned with a sweet gift basket, you take the apology gift into your hands, look at the kitchen clock again before you make your way to your old school and his place of instruction. When you arrive, all the students should be gone, only Ukai should be in the hall. Maybe just one or the other student who wants some tips.

The buttons of her blouse rattle as they fall to the ground, Ukai’s hands move hastily over her shapely upper body, while his lips passionately kiss her neck. “Haaah fuck, Keishin! We haa… We should stop.” She only cries as she pulls his head up and shoves her tongue down his throat. 

Her cheeks are red, her eyes large and round, her lips already swollen, and the dark red lipstick barely on her lips. “What if someone shows up? What if we get caught? That wouldn’t be good for both of us.” She breathes in a shaky voice as she spreads her legs so that Ukai can thrust into her better.

“They don’t need to know. And nobody’s going to find out if you keep your voice quiet.” He whispers as he continues to kiss her neck before hitting the fat of her thighs and pressing deep into her one last time before he comes. He plays on her bud until she also comes to her climax loudly and falls behind on the coarse sports mat.

Without really paying much attention to her, he steps away and draws the condom from his now half-stiff member as he knots it together and throws it into the trash can next to him before putting on his pants again.

The hall is empty as you step into it, but Ukai’s bag is still next to the entrance. Thoughtfully you look through the sports hall when you suddenly hear a loud moan from the storeroom. Your entire body is suddenly constricting.

You feel your heart stopping, afraid of what to expect when you go there. But your body moves on its own, taking you to the room where Ukai and you used to spend a lot of time. Your hand trembles terribly as you lay it on the door handle and open the door, hoping you have misheard and there is nothing to find behind this door except an empty storage room. But it’s not like that.

Because all you see is your beloved boyfriend closing his belt, his sweater still in the corner on the floor, while a young woman is lying on the sports mat. The young new gym teacher Ukai told you about. The teacher that Ukai found terribly tiring, loud and annoying.

And now she lies there, with the top open, the skirt and panties only sloppily pulled to the side, as if the two had no time. Trembling, she lifts her chest up and down as if she had just had her best orgasm. “Kei… shin?”

Like a loud siren, your soft, shaky voice enters Ukai’s ears. Let his heart come to a standstill as his eyes look at you, frightened.

They’re looking at the face he’s been seeing every day for years. On the lips, he kisses every day. The eyes he looks at every time he tells you he loves you more than anything. But they don’t shine.

No, your face is full of disappointment, full of sorrow, your lip trembles terribly and your otherwise shiny eyes now shine from the tears you are trying to hold back frantically. But you can’t hold them back anymore.

They roll over the cheeks, which Ukai had always pinched, when you once again told him that he had grown old, when he rubbed his back and complained how much it hurts. 

You keep silent for a long time until you turn around and try to get out of here as soon as possible. But Ukai’s body acts faster than yours, as his hand grasps your wrist, draws you to him when he looks into your crying eyes.

“Did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?” You yell at him, but he won’t answer. He just looks at you like he doesn’t know what to do. “How long are you doing it with… her?!” You keep screaming, your voice is accompanied by your sniffle. But Ukai doesn’t say a word.

You feel so silly; you wanted to make things right. That you worried, while he’s probably been sleeping with that disgusting woman for weeks, if not months. Disgusted, you pull away from him, turn around to leave the hall, but you quickly feel Ukai’s arms as they wrap around your body.

“I’m so sorry… I am so sorry Y/n. I don’t even know what got into me. I don’t even know why I did it. But believe me when I tell you, it was just today. This one time, and I know it’s one time too many.”

Your whole body trembles in his arms. With every word that comes out of his mouth, your body quivers more and more. With grief, with disappointment, with anger.

“I’m an incredible idiot. An asshole. But please, I love you Y/n. I’ve always loved you, and God damn it, I still love you so much. Please forgive me, I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. Please forgive me this last time. I want to make it up to you. Please let me show you I’m sorry. Please… don’t go!” Now his voice trembles even more than your own body, but you can no longer hear his words.

You pull yourself away from him one last time with full force, throw him the basket with the gifts at his feet and whisper to him quietly that it is too late for his apologies. Just for a brief moment he looks at the gift basket, at the content that makes him happy, because there is so much love in it.

But when he looks up in the direction you were standing before, there’s nothing left. But Ukai knows he can fix it. After all, you two are destined for each other. You’re his young bird and he’s your old cat.

But when Ukai comes home, the apartment is empty. He knows you need some time for yourself, and he knows it’s not right to call you right now. So he waits. Because you were meant to be together.

Yet even after a week, the apartment is empty, just as empty as the whiskey you gave him. Even after a month, it’s as empty as his heart. Still, after more than two years, the apartment is empty and cold. Lonely without you. 

Your things weren’t in the apartment after a week, because you picked them up while he was at work. His T-shirt, which you always wore, doesn’t smell like you anymore. He bought your perfume, sprayed it on his T-shirt so he could at least carry your scent. But this is not the same. Because your scent was different. Everything is different without you. Cold and dreary.

The messages he sends you are always one-sided, because you do not answer. Even your friends won’t tell him anything. Your coworkers, too, because they won’t let him see you. He can’t even go to your new apartment because he doesn’t know where you are.

You had disappeared from the scene. In front of the stores where you’ve always been, you weren’t anymore. There was no trace of you in any of the places you used to visit together. Only your photos show him what he had done wrong.

That he’d thrown away the love of his life for a woman he couldn’t even stand. Only photos and his memory of you remain. Because you’re gone, and you always will be.

How long has it been since you met those two brothers? Actually, as long as you can remember. Because when you started crawling on your knees and hands on the floor, the two guys have already taken their first steps. When you went to school, the two of them were one class above you and they were always looking out for you. Even in high school, the two have always had a watchful eye.

Pairing: Osamu x reader (childhood friends to lovers)

Warning: just fluff

Prompts: 

13. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it? I have.”

30. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

The better they thought it was that you took the job as manager of the volleyball club. Because that way they could take care of you even better. But even though both boys had tried to protect their little girl, Osamu was always the one you liked more. Then he was like a knight to you.

Back then, it was Osamu who always let you play volleyball with them. You were not good at volleyball, and at every practice Atsumu had only tossed Osamu the ball.

Your gaze got sadder and sadder, your tears were almost tingling, and all you really wanted to do was leave when Osamu gave you the ball and told you with a slim smile that you were going to make it.

When you fell, he was the one who wiped the tears from your eyes, who glued a band-aid over the tiny graze wound and said that everything was going to be fine. He was also the one who comforted you at your first lovesickness. The one who comforted you in your second relationship. He’s always been there for you.

And at some point, you also had to realize that he was not only there for you, but that he was also the one for whom you feel more than just friendship. But is that right? No… Because you are friends, always have been and always will be. At least if you don’t tell him about your feelings. If you do, you’re sure you’ll destroy your friendship.

So you try to plunge back into a relationship that distracts you from your true feelings for a brief moment. At the end, even this one doesn’t last long and you quickly find yourself back in Osamu’s arms.

“When are you gonna tell her, idiot?” Hisses Atsumu, who stands annoyed in the doorframe of his brother’s room. But Osamu is just sitting at his desk, watching a cooking video on his laptop, while his thoughts are somewhere else. 

“Don’t ignore me, Samu!” His brother shouts angrily to him, as he suddenly stands right next to him and flicks his forefinger and thumb against his forehead. “Are you out of your mind, you fool? What are you doing here?” Osamu tries to sound angry, but his voice is calm, almost bored, just like his expression. 

“You told me months ago that you’d be the happier one of us both. You and your shop! Then change this and don’t cry like a stupid crybaby! Go to her and tell her you love her, or I will!” Groaning, he grabs his brother’s jersey collar, shakes him several times until their two faces only minimally are separate from each other.

But it does not take long until the blond man’s back touches the ground, with a dull sound and Osamu is now sitting on him. “Shut your mouth! You have no idea! You can’t understand this because you’ve never been so good friends with her. My feelings for her don’t matter! If she’s happy, I’m happy too, so stay out of it if you do not know, idiot!” He yells at him before the two men start fighting like they used to back in childhood. Rolling back and forth on the floor, slapping each other in the face and throwing stupid sayings at each other’s heads.

“Stop talking shit like that! You’d be happy with her! Not if only she’s happy! But I don’t care, do what you want. This is your life you’re screwing up. I’m going to bed. Because I have an important game tomorrow! Right, a game with MY volleyball club. With the club that makes me happy! Because I AM happy!” 

Without even waiting for an answer from Osamu, he slams the bedroom door and leaves his twin alone in silence. “It is best to prepare the dough the day before, as it must rest for twenty-four hours.” When Osamu hears the cook talking from his laptop, he gets up and looks at the video, where he doesn’t even know why he turned it on in the first place.

“Fuck it…” He just curses, folds his laptop and walks into the hallway to put on his shoes and jacket. This conversation has given him a headache, and fresh air is best for him. His hands hide in his pocket, his face is serious as he looks up into the bright moon. Only it glows in the sky. Not a single star is visible.

Again and again Atsumu’s words go through his head, and again he has to agree with his brother. And it annoys him…

Osamu doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around. But he doesn’t want to go home now. He doesn’t want to go back to the place where his brother’s voice gets in his head. He has no desire to listen to Atsumu, that he currently has such a much happier life than he. Because it’s true. Atsumu has everything he wanted. An fantastic volleyball career.

Even the grey-haired man has his Onigiri shop. And he was sure that this would make him completely fulfilled and happy. But this one piece of the puzzle is missing. The last part you need to make a puzzle into a complete picture. You. 

Shaking his head, he lowers it, as he looks forward when he suddenly finds himself in front of a door so familiar to him. Without knowing it, he wandered around the area to end up standing in front of a front door that makes his heart beat several beats faster. On your doorstep.

No, he has to leave. Whatever brought him here has to get him home now. Convinced to turn around and walk, his body acts as if another person were controlling it. Because instead of leaving, he rings.

His hand gets sweaty despite the cold outside. For a blink of an eye, he quickly thinks about turning around and leaving. It’s already the middle of the night and it’s quite possible that you’re already asleep. Yeah, he should go. Osamu just wants to put one foot back, move his body as the creaking wood makes him swallow and puts his body in a heat wave.

Tired, you stand before him, your hair stands out in all directions, he can see sleep in the corners of your eyes. Only your cute plush socks and an old T-shirt adorn your body. His Shirt. 

“Samu? What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.” It hurts him to see you like this. In his things and knowing that you will never be his. It hurts him to know that he’s leaving right now and you’ll only see each other again as friends. Still, he just doesn’t know where to go at the moment.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” He says so quietly that you can only guess his words. But you open the door just one more piece, grab his icy hand and drag him into your apartment. You want to know if anything happened, but he just shakes his head thoughtfully.

It’s stupid of Osamu to think you can’t see through his lie. Sighing, you drag him into your living room, letting him understand without a word that he should sit down before you leave him for a moment.

Immersed in his thoughts, he does not notice how you come back with a delicious smelling green tea. You hand it over to him with your beautifully shining eyes as your fingers brush for a lash. “Thank you.” He breathes calmly, looking into the greenish water, just to see his reflection.

He doesn’t notice your hands trying to find their way to his lap. How they lie down on it and your eyes look up to him under your long eyelashes. You say nothing, just look while he smiles back at you almost sad, and puts the tea on the table, just to place your hands in his and drive his thumb over the back of your hand. He had often wondered what it would feel like to have your fingers linked, what it’s like to kiss them and look at your face full of love.

Osamu does not know what is going on in his head, but completely absent-minded, he opens his mouth while his gaze still remains on your hands. “Your hands are so soft Y/n. I’d love to know how soft your lips feel.” 

Too late, he realizes that he has heard his voice not only in the head. Because your hands twitch briefly in his, making him look into your glowing and totally surprised face. Osamu’s heart is beating wildly. His pulse is racing and he knows it’s too late now to talk his way out of this situation. Again Atsumu’s words return to his thoughts.

Say her. 

You guys have been friends for so long when he first start thinking about things like kissing you for the first time. So maybe you did that too sometime? He has to try. He has to risk it. Or is he just ruining everything?

“I mean… You can’t say you haven’t thought about it? I have.” He tries to be as serious as possible, hoping you don’t realize how nervous he actually is. But his hands press yours even more tightly when you do not answer him, just simply look at him silently with big eyes.

He’s the one who destroyed it. Your friendship. Everything you’ve built together. All these years destroyed in a moment. If he were alone now, he would punch his fist against a wall, or just lie in silence in his bed.

“So did I, Samu.” Your voice is only silent in his ears, but for him your words were crystal clear. You didn’t abandon him. No, but you didn’t say you felt that way too. At least at the moment.

Hesitantly, you move a little closer to the gray-haired man. You won’t let go of his hands for a second. 

In the yellowish glowing ceiling light, you keep silent, look the other only quietly in the eyes, while you listen to your own loud beating heart. And before he knows it, Osamu’s face is just a nose tip away from yours. He can feel your breath on his lips. Smells your sweet scent and realizes that you’re still not backing off.

That your hands hold his, like you’re afraid he’ll let you go. No, he just has to try. It’s now or never. “Will… Will you allow me to kiss you?” He whispers softly to you, drawing you with his dark eyes into his spell.

He makes you speechless, even though you want to say something. But your voice just doesn’t come. Instead, you nod slowly, looking down at his mouth until you close your eyes and feel his warm lips.

Your grip on his hands becomes looser, which makes Osamu detach from them and gently encloses your cheek with one hand, while his other moves to the back of your head and pulls you closer to his body.

Your lips are soft, your body warm and your taste wonderful. He won’t let you go, nor do you want to. As if he were afraid of losing you, he buries his hand in your hair, pressing you even closer to him. No, he won’t let you go again, because you’re his last piece of the puzzle. The piece he missed to be happy.

[princess-of-riviaa]

Vices chapter 4: Something More?

Chapter 1: First Time

Chapter 2: Liar

Chapter 3: Work Conference

Chapter Summary: You return from your work trip and find that you have a lot to discuss with Ransom.

Series Summary: A friendship with Ransom Drysdale is one thing; a relationship with him is another. Is your love for each other strong enough to keep you together? Or will nothing be able to keep you from ending in tragedy?

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning(s): drinking, blowjob

The airport is crowded and busy as you walk out of the boarding gate. You adjusted your carry-on bag around your shoulder as your coworkers waved you goodbye and walked towards the baggage claim. James, the only coworker you considered a friend, stayed by your side as he continued ranting to you about his boyfriend, Steve.

“Y/N!” A man’s voice called out.

You and James both spun to see Ransom walking towards you. He looked angry. Before you could question what he was doing here, he wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed you--hard. You would have pushed him away--neither of you were big on PDA--but you’d missed him so much that you couldn’t help but kiss him back. His tongue brushed against your mouth, though he didn’t kiss you any further. He gave you just enough of a taste of him to tease you.

“Hi,” you said when he pulled away. The kiss left you breathless and your cheeks burned.

Ransom kept his arm around you as he took in James beside you. “Who the hell are you?”

“Ransom!” you scoffed.

“It’s okay,” James assured you, ever the gentleman. He extended his hand towards Ransom. “I’m James. I work with Y/N. She’s an amazing woman.”

The compliment only made Ransom pull you tighter against him. He completely ignored James’ outstretched hand.

James let his hand drop awkwardly to his side. You hoped he understood your apologetic look as he looked back at you and said, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early,” you agreed, giving him a smile.

He nodded. “Bright and early.” And then he was gone.

You turned on Ransom with a scowl. “You don’t get to treat my friends like that.”

“He was ogling you,” he spat.

“He’s gay,” you replied, resisting the urge to slap him. “What the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“I had the grand idea to pick you up,” he said. “Which was clearly the right thing to do, considering that prick was seconds away from sticking his tongue down your throat.”

“He. Likes. Guys.” You enunciated. Sometimes you seriously wanted to grab Ransom by the shoulders and just shake him.

He gave you a disbelieving look. “You sure about that?”

You huffed. “Let’s just go.” You weren’t in the mood to fight.

“Where the hell are you going?” Ransom shot at you as you headed for luggage claim.

“I have to get my other bag,” you said, not waiting for him to follow.

He finally met you at the carousel, looking like he regretted deciding to pick you up. Your bag took forever to make its way to the carousel. Ransom made it very clear how inconvenienced he was by the wait and how he would never have to suffer like this on his family’s private plane. He was still complaining when your bag finally appeared. You anticipated the struggle of carrying it to Ransom’s car--when he grabbed it for you without a word. Wow. That was the one nice thing Ransom had done for you in a week.

You were both quiet as he drove you home. You must have dozed off at some point because the next thing you knew the car was parked in front of Ransom’s loft in the city. The delirium kept you from asking Ransom what you were doing here as you made your way inside. By the time you waved off the last of your sleepy confusion, you were in the dining room.

The table was set up with lit candles sending a faint aroma of something sweet around the room. Two plates of fish tacos were set up.

“What--” you began.

“I had the maid set it up while I picked you up,” Ransom explained. “Fish tacos are still your favorite, right?”

You nodded as you looked at him. “I didn’t... I... You did this for me?”

He shrugged. “I figured you’d be hungry after the flight.”

All the frustration you’d felt for him in the last hour disappeared. Your heart clenched in your chest. This was so sweet.

“It’s gonna get cold if you just stand there drooling over it,” Ransom said.

You didn’t even roll your eyes at his stupid comment, a grin still plastered on your face. You both took your seats across from each other. Ransom ate slowly--he always ate slow, showing restraint even when he was starving--while you inhaled your three tacos.

“That was so good,” you sighed once your plate was cleared. “You should seriously give Yeni a raise.”

Yeni, his maid, had worked for Ransom for two years. She was his longest-standing maid. With his temperament and rich-boy attitude, most people ended up quitting within the first week. But Yeni had stayed. You’d met her a handful of times and actually liked her. She was sweet and warm and always gave advice like a loving grandmother.

Ransom didn’t bother replying as he continued to eat. You’d argued for Yeni’s case before and he’d always refused to give her even one more dime. It was something you’d both agreed to disagree on.

“Do you have any wine?” You asked as you rose from your seat and brought your plate to the kitchen.

“It’s in the cooler,” Ransom hollered.

You cleaned off your plate and put it in the dishwasher before walking over to the wine cooler beside the pantry. You decided on a bottle of cabernet and grabbed two glasses before walking back to the dining room. Ransom had finished his food in the time it took you to come back, so you took his plate to the sink and told him to fill the bottles. You returned to find both of your glasses nearly overflowing, the entire wine bottle split between you.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” you laughed as you grabbed your glass and took a sip, savoring the sweet bitterness.

“I don’t have to get you drunk to have my way with you,” he replied easily. The look he gave you made your toes curl and your smartass reply died in your throat.

You were seriously in love with this annoying, perfect asshole.

You took a large sip of wine to distract yourself and moved to the living room. You stopped when your gaze landed on the couch--the exact spot you and Ransom had first been together. You swallowed down some more wine. The glass was already half-empty. Still, you wanted more. Your nerves were on fire tonight. It was impossible being around Ransom while you were keeping your feelings to yourself.

Ransom came up behind you, his chest brushing against your back. “Remember when I took you right there?” he asked, motioning to the couch. Then he laughed and said, “The same day you swore porn had no effect on you.” His arm circled your waist and pulled you against him. You released a soft sigh as you rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat against your back.

Those three words were stuck in the back of your throat. You wanted to tell him how you felt, but you’d been there all the times other girls he’d slept with had said it to him, and you’d seen how quickly he ran. You couldn’t bear it if he did the same to you.

So you swallowed down the words with another large gulp of wine.

“Are you wanting to get drunk?” He chuckled as he watched you finish off your glass.

You avoided his gaze, avoided the couch, and walked to his bedroom. Your head began to pound from the wine. Ransom was hot on your heels.

“What’s up with you?” His tone was demanding, but you knew him well enough to sense his underlining worry.

“I think I should get home,” you said. “I have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

He blocked your way to the door. You finally looked up at him and found worry in his beautiful blue eyes. “Talk to me.”

The wine wasn’t making you feel any better. If anything, it was making it more of a challenge to hold back what you wanted to tell him. You suddenly wished you were back in L.A., a whole country between you and Ransom. “I can’t.”

He closed the small distance between you and cupped your face in his hands. “Since when can’t we talk to each other?”

Since I fell for you. You clamped your mouth shut, not letting the words come out. But he was insistent on an answer, so you gave him the next best thing. You said, “I don’t want to talk right now.”

He opened his mouth to demand an answer, but you kissed him before he could say anything. The wine made you clumsy and the kiss was sloppy. Ransom kissed you back, hard, and moved you towards his bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you on top of him. Your legs straddled his waist. His semi-hard erection brushed against your core and you moaned into his mouth. Ransom grabbed your ass and pushed you harder against him, making both of you gasp with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed into your mouth. “I’m never letting you go on another work conference.”

You left a trail of teasing kisses down his neck before kissing the hollow of his throat. He growled as you nipped at his weak spot. He grew harder and his erection pressed tightly against your core, which was already dripping for him.

“I wanna suck you off,” you whispered in his ear.

“Then do it,” he growled, letting you slide off him.

You kneeled on the floor between his legs and took in the sight of his erection straining against his jeans. Ransom sat up and rested his weight on his elbows to watch you. You touched him over his jeans before giving his erection soft kisses. A second later you had his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped and pulled them down. The jeans and his underwear landed in a pile in the corner. You brought your attention back to his cock. He was hard and red and aching for you, his tip already leaking precum.

“Put your mouth on me, baby,” Ransom gasped, breathless from the anticipation.

You complied. A gentle, teasing kiss to the head of his cock made him groan. You looked up at him and held his gaze as you teased him with small kitten licks. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and slowly began to move up and down, your tongue continuing to lick the precum from his tip. He let out a string of curses.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he growled.

You blinked up at him through your lashes and gave him your best innocent look. “What do you mean? Like this?” You gave his tip another lick, too short and quick for him to really feel any pleasure. “Don’t do that?” Just to get under his skin, you licked him again.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Do that again and I’m gonna have to punish you.”

Your thighs clenched at the thought. Would he spank you? Or would he choke you? Either way, you wanted him to punish you.

“Put your mouth on me like a good little girl and don’t tease,” he ordered.

The dominance in his tone made you comply. You finally wrapped your mouth around his cock and swirled your tongue around the tip. He groaned and lied back on the bed, letting himself enjoy every second of your mouth on him. You moved your hand up and down his length as you began to take more of him in your mouth. He was big and you struggled to fit all of him inside your mouth. You hollowed out your cheeks as your tongue swirled around his cock, your lips sucking around him tightly. It didn’t take long for him to start bucking his hips into your mouth. You let him move inside of you and tried not to gag as his cock brushed against the back of your throat.

“Relax for me, baby,” he said breathlessly. “Let me in.”

You took shallow breaths in through your nose as you tried to loosen the muscles of your throat. He continued to buck his hips and move deeper inside of your mouth. This time, you were relaxed enough that he could fit all of his length inside of you even as it brushed against your throat. The feeling of your throat tightening and loosening around him made him lose control. He gripped your hair with one hand and began moving your head up and down his length. You relaxed and let him use you to reach his high. He moved faster than you could keep up with and before long you were gagging around him, but he was so close, his cock twitching in your mouth, that he couldn’t stop from face-fucking you. A second later his cum shot down your throat and he released a moan that made your toes curl. His cock twitched in your mouth as he continued to release his seed. You swallowed it all, savoring the taste of him. He pulled out you and concentrated on catching his breath.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Only then did everything come back to you. While you were sucking him off you’d forgotten. Forgotten about your aching, forgotten about the pain of keeping silent. But now it all came rushing to the surface.

“Now it’s my turn,” Ransom said as you rose to your feet, greedily reaching for you.

But you shook your head and stepped back. “I wanna go home.”

He frowned, clearly surprised. “Baby--”

“Take me home, Ransom. Please.”

He sighed. “You’re really not gonna tell me what’s fucking with you.”

No, you thought. I never will.

...

“Y/N, it’s me. Let’s get together when you get off work tonight.”

“It’s Ransom. Did you get my last message or are you ignoring me now? Call me back.”

“Are you fucking that prick Jimmy? That guy from the airport? Is that why you’re suddenly too good for me?”

“Come on, baby. I know you miss me. Call me back.”

“Where the hell are you? No one’s been at your apartment for days. Call me!”

“Okay, cut the bullshit, Y/N. No one in town has seen you for days. Where the hell are you? If something happened to you... I’m gonna fucking kill them. If someone hurt you, I’m gonna kill them. Just give me a sign that you’re alright before I go and get myself arrested for murder.”

“Baby, please. Answer me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you. Just please come back. Please be okay.”

[dotdotdottie]

Worth A Shot || Dot & Nicole

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @dotdotdottie and @nicsalazar SUMMARY: Dot hangs out with her favorite customer and they discuss futures  CONTENT: Drinking, talk of driving drunk

Dell’s was busy but Dot liked when the place was full of people. She could feel the energy in the air and she loved the potential for chaos that the drunk college students brought in. As she poured another shot, she slid it over to the frat kid who had asked for it. Catching the eye of her favorite regular, she grinned at Nicole. “You want a shot too?” She always loved trying to get some of her regulars to take shots, if only because she liked helping them enjoy their night. “I got a few to hang out and chat with you, I think. The next wave of drinks shouldn’t happen for a bit for that group.”

Nicole sat in her favorite spot, obscured in a corner, shying away from the noise college students usually made. She traced the glass in front of her with a finger, keeping her gaze down for the better part of the hour. Until the excited screams by her side got her attention. Her eyes went from the excited guy walking back to his friends with a shot in his hands to the bartender behind the counter. A half-smile reached her lips, noticing the familiar face. Her tongue poked between her teeth briefly, eyes on the bottle. She didn’t remember ever speaking to dot outside Dell’s. But if anything, she preferred it. She liked Dot, and knew that if they had met under different circumstances they probably would’ve never talked to each other.  It was strange to be more comfortable around bartenders and drunks than regular people, but it was pretty much all Nicole could handle at the moment. She shrugged, but raised her empty glass at her. Yes, she could do with a shot. “Celebrating something over there? Or just— the usual dumb dudes”.

Dot leaned her hip up against the wall as she looked at Nicole. She liked how their relationship worked, someone to chat with as she worked was always a good time. Especially on nights where things were quiet and there wasn’t much else to do. Her coworkers were fine enough, but some of them had sticks up their asses with what they talked about. She poured a shot for Nicole with a grin,“Have I mentioned you're my favorite for always being down.” Some of the regulars never changed their routines and it was boring at best. Duncan at the end of the bar always ordered two beers and never got what Dot suggested. “Just a regular night for them. They always act like some big thing is happening for them. Maybe one of them finally got laid.”

Nicole mouthed a thank you, nodding as she watched Dot do her thing. A laugh caught in her throat, eyes narrowing in thought. “Uh—couple times, I think” she grabbed the shot, her fingers drumming against the glass. “That makes it…is it the hundredth time? Maybe hundred and first. Lost count last year”. She tapped the bottom of the glass softly, one swift move later she raised it to her lips, emptying it.  She let the liquor flow slowly down her throat, savoring the burn. She grimaced, clearing her throat before speaking. “And I’ll keep saying… I’m sure you tell that to everyone who’s not a sleaze or a messy drunk”. She spared a glance to the group, nose scrunching up in disgust. “Refuse to believe any of them could land anyone” she didn’t need the mental image. She looked back at Dot, “just started the shift, or on your way out?”.

“It has to be more than a hundred at this point,” Dot told her with a big grin. People like Nicole, though they weren’t friends outside of here, had made the transition to settling in much easier. She had been moving around for months before she finally found a home in White Crest, though sometimes she struggled to think of it as home. She still missed Miami and everything she had been forced to leave there. “So basically you and two other regulars,” Dot shot back, her grin still wide. “Everyone else comes here and always gets fucking toasted. Hard to keep a conversation going when Melody can’t remember what her last name is.” Dot was pretty sure she had slept with one of those guys and maybe a girl or two from that group, but kept that information to herself. “On my way out soon, but I’ll stick around for you if you want me,” She winked.

"Knew it" Nicole nodded in agreement, the hint of a smug smile reaching her face. Glancing down at the counter, she noticed she was almost done with the beer she had ordered. ignoring the empty glass in front of her, she chose to take a swing from the bottle. "Such an honor" she placed a hand to her heart, pretending to be touched. Even at her worst --back when she'd drink until blacking out-- she was never one to make a mess whenever she was drunk. She was usually found in a corner by herself, sulking. But before that, she turned more talkative. "Pretty sure that means I deserve a plaque or something, there--" glancing behind the counter past Dot, she pointed at a spot right above her head, narrowing her eyes. "Sure you got better plans than to stay and chat, no? People to see or..." she clicked her tongue, eyes finding the counter again. She wasn't exactly the best at conversation, even if she was slightly more open after one or two beers.

“I’ll let management know that you requested a plaque. I’m sure they’ll find a nice place for you on the wall,” Dot laughed. Nicole didn’t always match her energy when it came to things, but the siren didn’t care all that much. Plenty of people weren’t able to keep up with Dot. She was just glad that Nicole seemed entertained enough to stick around. She shrugged at the other woman,“I mean I could always go to one of the clubs or try to call one of my standbys, but I don’t have anything wild planned.” She blew out a puff of air,“I got like a hell of a lot of studying to do that I don’t want to.”

“Great, probably the only honor I’ll ever get. I’ll cherish it” she weakly tapped her table to celebrate, but her smile grew. Nicole lowered her gaze, slightly relieved she wasn’t being talked to just out of pity. It helped that she was usually in a good mood when she talked to Dot. Likely made her better at conversations. “For what it’s worth--” she raised her empty bottle, looking at her. “I do appreciate you shielding me from other drunks speaking to me” her lips pressed together into a thin smile. “You might be one of my favorites too-- can I get another one?” her tone was teasing as she slid her glass towards her.  “Ah. School shit--not that I’d be of any help, but what kinda stuff?”.

“It’s a pretty fucking sick honor to have. Anyone who asks you about it is going to be absolutely blown away by it,” Dot winked at Nicole before slipping away to pass someone else the beer they asked her for. Slipping the tip she got away, she returned to Nicole. “I’m your knight in shining armor,” She replied with another small laugh. It wasn't a selfless act though, she was pretty sure Nicole wouldn’t come back if she kept getting annoyed by people in the bar. Dot didn’t want to be left alone without someone cool to talk to. She poured Nicole’s drink quickly, sliding it back. “I don’t even fucking know, Nicole. I can’t pay attention in class half the time because I don’t care about what they’re teaching. I don’t even want to be there half the fucking time.”

At the mention of a knight in shining armor, Nicole rolled her eyes and let out a weak laugh. “Yeah, yeah...guess so. Thought knights were taller...but I don’t doubt you can beat people up”. She listened to Dot complain about school with a frown. “Fuck your master’s. Is dropping out a crazy suggestion?” scoffing, she grabbed her glass. She was in favor of people giving up. In her mind, there was a difference between persistence and just plain torturing yourself. “Join the circus or whatever it is people say these days...y’know I’m not--” pausing, her eyes moved upwards as she tried to remember the word. Actualizada. She snapped her fingers in an attempt to get the words out of her brain faster, “up to date with things”. Spending years as a dormant human  meant missing a great deal of things. Just hearing the word Instagram made her squirm uncomfortable.

“Tall people are overrated,” Dot huffed. She stood at a small 5’4”, but she thought her personality made her seem way taller than that. Even if it didn’t she’d still fight anyone who tried anything. Dropping out of her degree made her stomach squeeze uncomfortably, it was the last real connection she had to her life in the colony. Her family had picked the path for her and she hadn’t ever really needed to wonder what she wanted to do. “It wouldn’t be the craziest thing I ever did.” She just didn’t know what she would want to do after she left. This at least gave her a path to follow. She smiled a bit,“I could become an influencer.”

“Know what? You’re right” Nicole smirked, nodding to herself. “I’ll tell you, reaching the top shelf gets pretty boring” she tilted her glass at Dot, before taking a gulp. “Yeah? Jokes aside, nothing wrong with realizing something isn’t for you” she eyed her curiously.  “Unless you only needed to vent. Also fair” she shrugged, “don’t know you that well, obviously. But you seem scrappy. Like you’ll figure it out, whatever life throws at you”. She glanced up at her, eyebrows furrowed. The word seemed familiar enough, as if she had heard it in passing before. But couldn’t put it in context with Dot’s words. “What’s…” her cheeks felt hot, hoping she didn’t look too puzzled. She was unsure whether to voice her question. “Influencer--what do you mean by that?”

“I’m sure having people ask for help for shit is annoying too,” Dot replied, trying not to be jealous of people who were tall enough they could see what was on the top shelf. Her parents had told her that quitting things this far in was never worth it and she couldn’t help but hearing them now. “One issue is I put a fuck ton of money into this, it would kinda fucking blow to give up now after all that.” Sinking a couple of thousands into this just to drop out made her stomach turn, but staying in the program made her feel just as bad. Dot eyed Nicole for a moment before deciding not to tease her. “Like those models on Instagram who get paid just to be pretty and take pictures with products. I’m pretty enough for that.”

Nicole raised her glass, stopping halfway as she considered Dot argument. “Wait--yeah, you’re right. Lose your patience and shit” she mused, lips pressed together into a thin line. She glanced down, tapping lightly on the table as she heard the woman speak. She grimaced. Money, it was always about that. She despised the power it held over people. Clicking her tongue, she let out a bitter laugh. “Nevermind then, just gotta suffer. How long you got left?” despite her depressing tone, she spared a sympathetic look at Dot. She frowned, wondering what Instagram was really about. She hadn’t heard of the selling aspect before. Curious eyes fell on Dot, taking notice on her appearance for the first time. She couldn’t say she’d ever paid much attention to the way people looked. It wasn’t something she was particularly interested in. “Yeah...guess you are” resting her head on her hand, her eyes stayed on the woman. “Sounds easy. You should do it” eyebrows knitted together, it all sounded so simple.

“At least a year,” Dot sighed. It was fucked how long a year could feel when she was doing something that she didn’t like anymore. She sighed deeply for a moment, before shaking her head. “Don’t know if it’s worth sinking any more money in it though. One of those things where I put so much in, I don’t want to quit, but I don’t want to put anymore in.” She could hear her mother in the back of her mind, telling her that she wasn’t a quitter. Her parents had always wanted her to get this degree. It made it taste even more bitter. She let out a sharp laugh,“Wow, thanks. I’m glad that you guess I’m attractive. Nothing like that to make a girl feel sexy.” She really didn’t need anyone’s praise on her looks, but she certainly hadn’t expected that reaction. “Guess it sounds easier than it really is. The market is saturated with plenty of girls who look like me. It’s like applying to be a bartender in a town full of bartenders. You gotta be really good to make it.”

Concern flashed in Nicole’s eyes when she heard Dot’s sigh. Shit, that was fucked up. She wished she had the right words. But she was certain there was nothing she could say that would change the situation. She offered her glass instead. “Wanna get drunk and forget about stupid shit?”. The heat rising to her cheeks wasn’t down to the alcohol. She leaned back, examining Dot’s face for a moment. Sarcasm dripped from her words, even if she wasn’t always great at detecting it, this time it was obvious. Had she said something wrong? She considered what she had said. No...I don’t. I don’t guess” she had the habit of making things sound vague, never committing. Had she been sober, she would’ve felt mortified. And though she felt slightly embarrassed, she was capable of maintaining her gaze. “You’re obviously very…y’know” she let out a laugh. Going by her confidence, she assumed she didn’t need any explanation, but she felt the need to clear it up.  She saw it every time she was at Dell’s, drunks trying to flirt with Dot. But what she liked most about Dot was her personality. “You are good, though” no guessing this time, she made sure of it. “Pretty sure you’re everyone’s favorite in here” she knew the bar was pretty low, if she asked any drunk they would likely love anyone as long as they kept serving them. “Bet you’d be good at the Instagram thing too”.

A grin broke out on Dot’s face, she could do that. Getting drunk was the best way to deal with hard situations. “You know, that’s a great idea.” She had never been one to care much about drinking at work and none of her coworkers actually gave a fuck. She went to pour them both a shot, pausing as Nicole spoke again. An eyebrow raised and her grin slipped into a smaller smirk. As much as she hadn’t expected the first reaction, this was much more surprising. The Siren wasn’t complaining, not at all, but she hadn’t thought this would be how her shift went. “Well, Nicole, I didn’t realize you thought I was so good,” She teased, sliding the shot to Nicole finally. “Cheers to two hot ladies hanging out together.” She certainly made friends with a lot of her regulars, if only for the fun of it. The tips they gave her helped a lot too. Still she shrugged, pretending to be humble for once. “They just like it here. I’ll send you my handle if i ever decide to go through with the influencer thing.”

Nicole didn’t need many reasons to get drunk. November was the worst month of the year. There, that was reason enough. And if she could help Dot have a better time, it sounded like the right decision. “Yeah, yeah— pretend like... you don’t know” she waved her hand, taking the teasing in stride.  “Oh!— cheers” she lifted her glass to her, before drinking. She knew they weren’t technically friends. Or, were they? Maybe her definition of friendship was outdated. But she enjoyed Dot’s company, and she was easy to talk to, that was more than she could say for most people. She could second guess social interactions when sober. She eyed her carefully, knowing she’d regret what she was about to say. “Should be my last one— I drove here so...wanna make it home in one piece”. She wasn’t sure what a handle was. But she had already embarrassed herself with her little Instagram knowledge, she didn’t want to look like a fool again. Going by context, she assumed it was another word for page. “Great” “she slurred, “can’t wait to see your...handle” a proud, lopsided grin reached her lips.  “Do I… need a page or something to see?”

Shooting back the shot, Dot savored the burn in the back of her throat. It was things like drinking, drugs, sex, and a little bit of murder that made the siren feel alive. She had never been to have the time to enjoy emotions enough to live just off of that, but she could remember she was alive through the burn of adrenaline. Waving her hand, Dot pulled out her phone. “Let me call you an uber. Don’t need you to make a mistake behind the wheel. I can take a lot of blame for a lot of shit, but I’m not gonna with this.” She was a lot of things, a cheat, a murderer, but she wasn’t going to let someone die over a few drinks. No, if someone was going to die, it would be from something glorious. Like her own hands, though she would never think of killing Nicole. No she liked her and Dot didn’t like killing women anyways. “Next time you’re here I’ll help make you a page, if you don’t got one already.”

“Oh… no it’s— it’s alright. I’m very good” her smile was lazy, but Nicole believed it to be reassuring enough. Though the admission of her plans brought some of her natural self awareness back, it still wasn’t enough to change her intentions. She was great behind the wheel. She had to drive through bumpier roads at work. The way back home would be a piece of cake in comparison. And, she always wore her seatbelt. Safety first, right? With the alcohol in her system it was hard to see the flaws in her logic. Even if she could faintly register the mistake she’d be making, thanks to Dot’s words. “But my— I need my truck for…” eyebrows furrowed, she didn’t see much point in arguing when Dot already had the phone in her hand. As much as she wanted to argue, it had never been her strength. She didn’t fancy her chances fighting Dot. Shoulders slumped dramatically, a defeated sigh escaped her lips. “This is why— why you’re the only bartender I like” she rested her head on her hand, watching Dot on her phone. She was annoyed, but her sober self definitely would’ve appreciated someone looking out for her. She failed to remember what page they had been talking for a moment. “Hm? Oh, yes. Don’t have one no…don’t want one, I can barely keep up with that whole town forum shit”.

Dot made quick work of calling the uber, and showed the information to Nicole. “They’ll be here in a few, let’s get you all closed out. You’ll owe me for the ride, but you can settle that up next time you’re here.” She certainly didn’t want to give her anymore reason to stay here longer when she was still thinking of driving. “I’m the only bartender you like because I give you free drinks all the time,” Dot laughed. She brought over Nicole’s receipt,“Time to pay up.” She glanced around the bar, noticing that other customers were starting to slowly fill out. She hadn’t realized it was already that late, but sometimes she lost track of time with Nicole. “Yeah, yeah, Nicole. You’re an old soul who hates technology. I get it,” The siren said amused. “Uber’s here, let’s get you to the car.”

“Right. Thank you?” Nicole’s eyebrows furrowed. That was a good thing, right? No. She was leaving without her truck. She’d have to pick it up in the morning before work. “Hey, that’s not true, you— ”, she bowed her head, not knowing what to say. She didn’t have to go on and explain why she liked her again, Dot was just teasing. She reached for her wallet, eyeing the check. Definitely less than what she should’ve been paying.  She had to be a lot more appreciative of the free shots. “I’m not...that drunk” she didn’t feel so, at least. Eyes narrowed as she stood up, hands raising slightly to try and gauge her sense of balance. She laughed, tapping the counter and sliding the money to the woman. “All good— I’m all good” Not the worst Dot has seen of her, for sure. Could’ve definitely driven by herself, she wanted to add, but one look at the woman discouraged her from it. She waved her hand dismissively, but her smile was grateful. She could walk out and find an uber by herself, couldn’t she? “Thanks for the— owe you one...or ten” she drummed the counter again, “I’ll see you around—good luck with your...school” she looked up, trying to recall their conversation. “G’Night, Dot” she spoke softly, and it was the last she said before disappearing through the door.

[catchlalune]

Cold Nights and Coffee

authors note: The feeling is warmth on a cold night with a nice cup of feelings and a shot of trouble. or alternatively; Moon Taeil is whipped

Reader x Barista/Bartender Taeil, best friends Ten and Johnny and cutie Mark

Originally posted: sometime in December of 2018 woops, it’s also posted on my ao3 

word count: 4,480

warnings: alcohol, some dirty dancing, a little jealousy~, slightly suggestive, reader flat out falls on her ass and Ten’s annoying af lol

You regretted taking the chance on taking the last train back home. You were cold, sore, and really really tired. You had an exam in sociology soon and decided that studying with your friends who already took the course would be a great idea. Of course, you didn’t account for the fact that they were several train stops away from your campus and there really wasn’t much studying that got done (but there was a lot of eating, and laughing, and just about everything but studying.) You had just slipped on some ice a few minutes ago and honestly just wanted to crawl into bed and cry a little after a warm meal.

You were at least another twenty minutes from home on foot and the sign for Nouveau Café was looking very inviting. It was one of your favorite places on campus, they had great coffee, decently reliable wifi, some of the most handsome guys you’d ever seen worked there, oh and they were open twenty-four hours. Not that you were into appearances like that but they were all undeniably attractive in a way that was extremely befitting for internet cafe workers. Everyone on campus knew about NCT, Nouveau Cafe Team members were notorious for being attractive, intelligent, and great at customer service. Some things you were greatly craving right about now.

The tinkling of the bells over the door signals your arrival inside and the smell of coffee and the feel of warm air instantly makes you relax. In the back of your mind you know it looks strange to be standing right in front of the threshold with eyes closed but you can’t bring yourself to care too much. Until he says something to you of course.

“Long night?” The man behind the counter smiles at you, he always does and you can hear it in his voice as you hum.

“The longest, please give me something to make it worth it.” You finally open your eyes to give him a response and he chuckles at you.

“Wrong job for that right now, but I’ll see what I can do.” He says it with a smirk on his face and you raise a brow at him as if asking for him to elaborate but he turns from you to start on your order.

“Hey, you don’t usually work so late. What happened to Ten?” You tilt your head at his back and he stops briefly to look back at you then continues as if you hadn’t said anything. Fair enough, that question was probably pretty rude anyway.

You slip into a stool at the countertop and groan at the dull ache on your left side. You weren’t going to be able to walk well tomorrow.

“I’m disappointed, you don’t want to see me?” He asks jokingly but you can see the earnestness in his eyes as he sets down a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and a warm muffin in front of you.

“Maybe I just wanted to bother my friend, don’t be too jealous.” You stick your tongue out at him before reaching for your muffin. You look around the establishment as you take a bite and note that it’s just as dead as you thought it’d be at 1am on a Wednesday. “Doesn’t it get boring being here all alone?”

“Not really, I’ve got you to keep me company for the time being.” He laughs as you wrinkle your nose up at his corniness. “I’m joking, mostly. I’ve been doing that Soc study guide that’s due on Monday.”

“Shit Taeil, it’s due Monday?!” You nearly choke on the cocoa you were trying to gulp down in order to question him. You hope he’s joking but he just nods and you groan with frustration. You knew you were forgetting something.

“Aw cheer up, how about I make you another hot chocolate and you can give me your email so I can send you what I have so far. We can even study together if you want to.” You thank the heavens for Moon Taeil, he wasn’t really a friend but he sat a few seats away from you in Sociology and always made your coffee just like you liked it so he was always in your good books. This just earned him a thousand more points.

“Seriously?! You’re a lifesaver! Thank you!” You beam at him and take another large gulp of your drink the warmth of it finally seeping into your fingertips.

“No problem! I’ll make the hot cocoa to go for you so you can stay awake on the drive back.” You tilt your head at his statement.

“I didn’t drive here, I walked. Part of the reason I look like hell probably.” You grumble the last part to yourself and roll your shoulder wincing slightly at the deep tug in your muscles.

“You walked...in the cold...at 1 am...when there’s snow outside?” He seemed completely mystified at the idea, it even sounded idiotic to you when he said it like that.

“Actually it’s all ice now, had to learn that the hard way.” You pout and take another bite from your muffin that was starting to get cold. His eyes widen a fraction and he leans closer to you.

“Are you hurt?! I can’t believe you fell on ice!” He sounds so concerned it makes you stop munching and swallow dryly.

“Just my pride mostly, it’s nothing I can’t handle. Don’t worry about it, really.” The fact he was so worried even though he barely knew you were extremely endearing to you.

“Well, I can’t let you walk back, at least not alone. My shift ends in like twenty minutes, I’ll take you back.”

This was now a little less endearing, extremely kind and suspiciously so. You weren’t very inclined to trusting strangers with taking you home. Granted, Taeil wasn’t exactly a complete stranger you couldn’t really say you knew him very well either. He could very well be a serial killer and you wouldn’t know it. Peeking another look at him over the edge of your mug you weigh the pros and cons of your situation. On one hand, he was offering a free ride or at least free company on the walk back, he was trustworthy enough to go off of what Ten’s said about him, he was extremely attractive, and he was going to make you a free drink. On the other hand, as good looking as he was you didn’t know him too well, Ten doesn’t really have the soundest of judgment, and he could very well be trying to kill you.

“You don’t need to feel pressured, honestly. But think about it okay?” He gives you a small smile that makes your heartbeat quicken and then goes back to scribbling in a notebook, probably doing the rest of the study guide you think.

No one else pops in for twenty minutes save for the next employee and you don’t go anywhere. Taeil places your cup of cocoa down on the counter and when you reach for your wallet to pay he shakes his head at you.

“No need, I already paid for it. Besides you really needed it.” His smile looks so genuine and you could already feel the sleep set in fifteen minutes ago, at least that’s what you tell yourself to feel better about what you say next.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll let you take me home but just to let you know if you try to kill me I have very strong lungs and can scream very loud.” Your comment makes him (and his coworker) giggle but he nods anyway.

“Okay, I’ll see you later Taeyong.” He waves at the man that takes his place behind the counter and then turns to you. “Ready?”

When you nod he smiles softly and leads you out into the cold, tinkling of the bells above the door signaling your departure.

***

“So you’re coming out with us yeah?” It had currently been a whole week since the last time you set foot in Nouveau Café and you were really about to punch Ten in the throat if he didn’t stop talking to you before you got a cup of your nightly coffee.

Ten was for some reason over the moon about the fact that Taeil drove you home that night and that the two of you essentially studied the entire weekend together when the two if you weren’t working. He had said something about it being fate that he called out from work to practice for his dance midterm but the thought of something like fate made your stomach turn.

“Oh come on! How can you say no to this handsome face?” Ten pouts at you and it takes everything for you not to actually kick him in the shins.

“Why do you even want me to go out so bad? It’s not like you don’t see me every day.” You move your head to try to see the front of the line wondering why the hell it was taking so long. The cafe was never so busy at 8:45 on a Wednesday night before and you were starting to get impatient.

“First of all, this is the first time I’m seeing you face to face in two weeks.” He frowns at you and you look at him in shock. Had it really been so long since you’d seen him? “And second, it’s not just me. Mark and Johnny miss you too! Maybe even Jaehyun.”

“Jaehyun wouldn’t miss me if I was the last person on Earth and he hadn’t spoken to anyone in two years.” You groan and move up in the line, finally, it was moving. You weren’t usually so agitated but you were pretty sure you were going through some sort of coffee withdrawal.

“Touché, speaking of which I would really like to know what’s up with that.” He stops for a second to think about it then shakes his head as if coming back to the task at hand; annoying the hell out of you until you caved. “Anyway, Mark and Johnny miss you too and you definitely need a drink.”

“Yes, I need a drink of this coffee and- oh hi Taeil.” As soon as you see him all the tension leaves your body and you even offer him a small smile. Ten gawfs at you and folds his arms, clearly a little offended your attitude changed so tremendously.

“Hey, the usual right? My shift ends in a few minutes but I’ll make it for you. Jungwoo can you take the next customer?” Taeil gestures for you to move to the side and Ten lets out a sound.

“Hey lovebirds, I’m here too you know. What if I wanted a coffee?” He says it with a mocking pout so you pinch his cheeks with a roll of your eyes. The scene makes Taeil laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you the usual too. Thai tea right?” When Ten flashes him a smile and nods Taeil turns around to quickly start on the order.

“Ten you don’t even like coffee.” You give him a side-eye and he pouts again but this time for real.

“I like coffee! I just hate fruits.” He takes a straw from out of the dispenser and boops you on the nose with it.

“Literally how could I possibly forget how much you hate fruits? You’re always telling us! Also, how do you hate fruits but like fruit-flavored things? It makes literally no sense. You probably taste like-”

“Honey!” You have to blink twice at his outburst.

“You do not taste like honey and this is not a conversation we should be having in public.” You look around at the people in line and Taeil’s coworker but it doesn’t seem like anyone has heard anything.

“Here you go.” Before Ten can even point out that you were the one to bring it up Taeil sets your drinks down.

“How much is it?” Ten takes the words right out of your mouth and hands his card to Taeil.

“Ten why are you-”

“Now you have to come out.” He smirks at you taking back his card and grabbing your drinks. With a wink, he turns on his heel and you swear you could strangle him.

“Thanks, Taeil, now if you excuse me I have a friend to go beat up.” He shakes his head at you giving you another laugh.

“You better hurry, I hear his bones are made of liquid.”

****

“Literally why did I let you drag me here?” You were not here for it, not the tight clothes Ten made you wear, not the loud music, or the sweat of all the people around you. You really hated clubs.

“We’ve been here for all of five minutes. Besides Johnny and I are gonna by your drinks all night.” He had a good point, as much as you hated the overall ambiance you weren’t really giving the club much a chance. Plus free drinks were always a good thing, you’d been getting lucky lately in that department.

When you see the top of Johnny’s head Ten all but drags you in that direction, politely but forcefully pushing people out of the way with his body. Did there have to be so many people? It just turned 12 am for God Sake.

“Hey, cutie! Haven’t seen you in like a month.” Johnny leans down to give you a hug and you can’t do anything but smile. Of all your guy friends he was probably the one that made you feel the most comfortable.

“I haven’t seen them in like two. Move over.” Mark pushes Johnny away from you playfully and it makes you laugh so you give him an extra squeeze.

“That’s because she’s been too busy ogling over her new-” You elbow Ten in the arm before he can finish his sentence and smile at his wince. Payback for him cutting you off twice earlier.

“He’s talking out of his ass. I’ve just been busy and Sociology has been kicking my ass. If it weren’t for Taeil I’d probably be crying into a glass of cheap wine right now.” Johnny thinks this is funny and grabs a jello shot off of the table to hand to you.

“Ten said you needed some destressing. So, let's destress.” You lift the shot to your lips at his words and finally let loose a little.

Or maybe after five more jello shots, you had let loose a lot. You're sure it’s been at least two hours since you got to the club and all the dancing you’ve been doing with the guys has made the alcohol start to wear off. You tug on Johnny’s shirt and he follows you to the bar helping you to sit in the stool.

“Hey Taeil, whatever she wants just put it on my tab.” The mention of his name has you perking up in your seat and looking up to find him staring down at you with a bemused look. He looked damn good in his bartender outfit almost better than his barista uniform and it made your palms a little sweaty.

“Are you following me?” The alcohol had surely muddled your brain. You didn’t just say that out loud right? The laugh from Johnny assures you that you had just said that out loud and you groan.

“Wait let me try that again. You work here too?” Johnny mutters a smooth under his breath and if you were a little more alert you probably would’ve hit him.

“Yeah, I work here too.” Is Taeil’s reply and he’s laughing again and you really wish you would stop giving him a reason to laugh. “So what will it be gorgeous? Or should I just surprise you?”

“That was the corniest shit you’ve ever said to me ever.” He’s laughing again and Johnny just shakes his head at you. He knew you were bad at flirting but he thought he taught you a little better than this.

“Surprise it is then. I’ve got something I think you’ll like.” Taeil winks at you and you're sure your heart stops beating for a second.

“Okay, you’ve gotta get better at this. Do you need some help?” Johnny yell-whispers at you when Taeil turns his back to make your drink. Had he always had such nice back muscles?

“Help? How?” You tear your gaze away from Taeil for a second to look at Johnny who’s giving you the same smirk Ten did earlier in the café.

“Make him jealous, how else?” Johnny says it like it should be as plain as day to you and maybe it should but you weren’t exactly sure that Taeil was attracted to you. Guys flirt for fun all the time, right?

Johnny notices your apprehension and gives you a reassuring smile. “He’ll be jealous, I promise.” Then he’s on his phone texting someone so you go decide to concentrate on counting how many colored glasses there are on the wall. Six blue, five purple-

“Hey! Getting drinks without us?” Ten slides an arm around your waist and that's when Taeil turns around to set down your drink. It's pretty and looks good but you’re a little wary of trying out new alcohol.

“It’s called Golden Roots. Figured you might want something a bit fruity.” You trust him, the bartender probably knows best. So you raise the glass and take a sip.

“Holy shit that's good.” You close your eyes at the taste of pineapples and lemons. When you open them the boys are watching you so you hold the straw up to Johnny’s mouth. “You try, it's really good.”

He dips his head down to take a sip and lets out a sound of approval. Johnny turns his head to you and licks his lips but you think nothing of it and turn your attention back to Taeil. There's a flicker in Taeil’s eyes you notice and he shifts on his feet.

“How did you make it? Can you teach me?” You ask him but his eyes seem to be more trained on the arm around your waist you’re sure Ten seems to forget about because he’s having some conversation with Mark about how to say things in Thai.

“He can teach you later, I like this song. Let’s go dance?” Johnny takes the drink out your hand and places it down in front of Ten who stops for a second to give him a look. When Johnny nods at him he takes his arm from around your waist and goes back to talking to Mark.

“Okay, if you really want to.” You give in to his request with a simple shrug and he whisks you away. It’s not too far from the bar you have the perfect view of Taeil as he serves some other patrons actually but your more focused on the heat of Johnny’s body behind you.

Johnny’s hands and touches are a little more aggressive than they were at the beginning of the night and he’s grinding more on you then he ever has but you just chalk it up to the alcohol. It’s not like the two of you haven’t gotten drunk and done this before, it just feels a little different this time. But Johnny is a really good dancer and he easily pulls you into his world. The beat of the music is fast and it thrums through your veins just as hot as you feel. Your clothes are sticking to your body again and when you open your eyes you make direct eye contact with Taeil.

His jaw is set and it looks like Ten is saying something to him but he doesn't answer. Just watches you even as you give him a small wave. It confuses you a little but then Johnny is tugging on your chin to look at him and you have to look away.

“I told you I could make him jealous cutie.” Johnny has to lean down to say it in your ear and it takes you a second to process it.

“He doesn’t look jealous to me John, just tired and maybe a little annoyed because of Ten.” Johnny rolls his eyes at you then spins you around so your ass is pressed against his groin. It’s much closer than you’re used to with him and it makes your body feel just a little bit hotter.

“I bet after this you’ll definitely see it.” As if in time with his words the music changes to something much more sensual and it has your body melding to Johnny’s in a way that must look positively sinful.

It feels like an eternity that you and Johnny are out on the dance floor dirty dancing so when you sit back up on the bar you’re more than thankful for the ice that somehow still remains in your drink from earlier. Taeil has disappeared somewhere and the crowd is starting to thin as the early morning hours approach much quicker. You grab at Mark’s phone to take a look at the time and note that it’s nearing 5 am and you’re thankful you don’t have class later.

“Hey, guys I’m getting kind of tired. I think I’m gonna call it a night.” You’re a little disappointed that Taeil left before you could say goodbye but it’s been ten minutes and the only person tending the bar is some guy named Yuta who gave you a glass of cold water when Johnny asked him to. He’s nice and certainly attractive but he’s no Taeil.

“Let me take you home then?” Taeil’s voice makes you whip around startling you at how unhappy it sounds.

“Yeah, okay.”

***

It’s just as cold as it was last week when you fell on ice and your body is feeling just as sore too. Taeil deposited his jacket on your shoulders as the two of you walked to his car and he turned the heat all the way up but it didn’t retract at all to the coldness you felt. You weren’t really sure why but you felt like you’d done something wrong.

Taeil wasn’t talking much save for asking if you need more or less heat and if you were hungry or not. Even though you said no your stomach still growls so he pulled into a drive-through to get you some warm food to eat. His actions are warm but you still feel uncomfortable.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re probably really tired right? I can't believe you work at the bar too.” Taeil doesn't answer you for a second and then he sighs.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.” You were hoping his words would make you feel a little less tense but they seem to do the opposite.

“Did I do something wrong?” You take a peek at him from your side in the passenger seat and you confirm he looks just as tired as he says he does. But he’s still just as pretty and looking at him makes your heart flutter.

“No, it’s not you at all. It’s just me being stupid.” He speaks with a somber tone that makes you pout.

“Moon Taeil you are not stupid.” You huff at him and he pulls up to your apartment with a grunt.

“Listen, can I talk to you before you go inside?” He seems a little nervous but less tired so you turn to him with a smile his jacket falling off your shoulders a little. His gaze wanders down for half a second before he chews on his lip.

“You can say whatever you want to me Taeil. You could probably curse me out and I’d probably tell you you were right.” You try to lighten the moon with a laugh but he runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

“Can you just be quiet for a second?” He glares at you and it makes you frown but you nod anyway. This causes him to groan again and then he’s leaning on the console that's dividing the two of you.

“No that came out wrong, I don’t want you to stop talking I just...I like you. A lot.” He reaches out towards you then draws his hand back as if he had touched something hot. “I had no idea you and Johnny were a thing before I started flirting with you. I wouldn’t have if I had known that.”

“I-what?” He wasn’t making any sense at all. “Johnny and I aren’t dating? Wait you were flirting with me?!”

Taeil takes a second to look at you before he starts laughing. He’s laughing so hard that his eyes crinkle and a tear rolls down his cheek. You aren’t sure what’s so funny but seeing him so mirthful makes you smile wide too.

“Ten told me you were oblivious but I had no idea it was this bad! I’m sorry it’s just, I’ve been flirting with you since the beginning of the semester.” He’s shaking his head at you again looking at you as if you have stars dancing around your head.

This time when he reaches for you he tugs his jacket back over your shoulders and smiles.

“Let me show you what I mean.” And then he’s kissing you. It’s soft and warm and he tastes like mint. There’s something so casual and comfortable about the way he kisses you but it still manages to take your breath with him when he pulls away. “Do you get it now?”

“I-no not really. I mean I knew you were flirting but I didn’t know you were serious and why did you even think I was dating Johnny? I mean I know we’re close but-” He’s kissing you again this time a bit more firm and it shuts you up or it leaves you gasping like a fish rather.

“Remember when I said I was just being stupid? To be fair though, you were dancing pretty close.” He leans forward more to nuzzle his face into your neck before whispering in your ear. “But if you say yes to being my girlfriend he can’t touch you anymore.”

“But what if I want to give him a hug?” His whispers leave you breathless but the kisses on your neck leave you wanting just a tad more.

“A hug is fine, no dancing.” He runs a hand up the other side of your neck and traces along your bottom lip with his thumb.

“But what if-”

“Shhhh, what did I say about talking?”

“Actually you said you didn’t mean it.” He groans at you and pulls away completely.

“Okay okay! I’ll be quiet,” He turns to look at you then. “But only if you make me.”

“That can be arranged.”

[heoneyology]

I Like Me Better

A/N: Written for @tacoteez! Really bad with titles so I just named it after the song I was listening to while writing. I hope you enjoy it 💕

Pairing: Yeosang x Reader

Genre: fluff, “I did the dishes.” - 100 Ways to Say I Love You prompt

Word Count: 9582

Summary: Between work, school, and other daily responsibilities—you find yourself stressed out to the max, and your relationship with your boyfriend is strained amidst his own responsibilities. But it’s the littlest actions and thoughts that often mean the most.

There were many things that had been bothering you for a while—work and the insane amount of stress it was causing you as coworkers consistently called out, school and the deadlines for graduation that loomed closer mixed with the exams you’d yet to find time to study for, the state of your ever-fluctuating relationship with your boyfriend, and the cleanliness (or lack thereof) of your apartment and how you hadn’t had a chance to commit to making it presentable.

Everything kept piling on top of your shoulders, and it was becoming almost unbearable.

At that time, the forefront issue that plagued your mind was school and the state of your apartment. The cleanliness was chafing against you; a cat being pet the wrong way, fur ruffled in the opposite direction.

You finally had time to commit to studying, yet sitting in the clutter that decorated your apartment, you couldn’t focus. It was the sort of filth that made you not want to linger longer than necessary. Garments strewn about, tossed aside as you’d entered the room and went straight to bed. Dishes left, making and scarfing down food faster than you humanely should, attempting to get a meal in despite the thousands of tasks you had to complete, with stains that appeared as paint splotches across the stove top which hadn’t been wiped down after use. A thin layer of dust collecting across bookshelves and various other surfaces.

You were exhausted, though. Extracting yourself from your couch, even in this small moment of silence which you’d found, was too much effort. Especially for cleaning. You also weren’t certain when you’d have another chance to study.

“Hey.” Yeosang’s familiar voice touches your ears like music, and you feel him leaning over the back of the couch to wrap his arms around your neck. He plants a small kiss atop the crown of your head.

You also weren’t the only one that lived here. Why am I the only one that has to clean?

But in Yeosang’s defense, his life wasn’t any less hectic than yours. Between school and practice, his dream of becoming an idol was looming closer. It was just out of reach, even you could taste it.

Along with the taste of success, you also tasted the bitterness of his absence. Date nights had decreased and Yeosang’s physical presence had turned into Face Time calls and text messages, quick kisses as he came to bed at some ungodly hour of the morning before you inevitably had to get up for your day.

The last few weeks had been tense, you’d already gotten into a couple of arguments with him, the slightest of things setting you off. Just a couple days ago he’d been incessantly tapping his pencil against the tabletop and you’d snapped at him for that. It was stupid, really. The way in which your life was going with him had been bothering you for quite a while, but you couldn’t bring yourself to actually admit what was wrong. How was it fair for you to ask so much of him, when he had his own dreams and aspirations?

Your lack of a reaction to his affection causes Yeosang to pull back, leaning over the couch just enough to get a good look at your face. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you mutter, staring down blankly at the textbook in your lap. Next to you is a pile of papers, your laptop and notebook, and even more papers strewn across the coffee table.

He knows you’re not fine. You’d been with him long enough that even you knew that he knows that. Yeosang frowns at you, before glancing down at your study setup.

“What’s wrong?”

That, of course, is the wrong question to ask. For a brief moment, the highlighter in your hand hovers over a line in the textbook, before you lift your gaze to him. Pursing your lips into a hard line, you shrug. “Oh, you know, the usual,” the tone of your voice is much more bitter than you intend for it to be. “I just have a midterm this week, a paper due, and a professor who decided to push a separate exam forward by a week.”

“Want me to help you study?” Yeosang suggests.

“No. I’m already having trouble enough as it is focusing.”

You know the offer is innocent and well-intentioned, but it annoys you that he’d ask such a thing. One look around the apartment and you can’t help but wonder why he wasn’t doing something else productive, instead of pestering you. It’s his next words that have a tiny shock of guilt settle over you.

“We hardly spend any time together as it is lately,” Yeosang explains, lowering his voice into something smooth. He can sense the change in the atmosphere, your stress building up and threatening to boil over. “Let me help you—”

“I already said no,” you snap at him. Before he can react, you’re closing the textbook and pushing yourself off the comfort of your couch. You begin collecting your things, haphazardly shoving your study material and belongings into your backpack. “I just want peace and quiet and somewhere to focus.”

“What are you doing?” Yeosang moves around the couch, suddenly taken aback back. This wasn’t anything like the bigger arguments you’d had lately. This was closer to you snapping at him for tapping his pencil and annoying you. But the tension puts him on edge enough to worry, and you on edge enough to give in to the flight urge that passes over you. You really don’t want to spend the energy arguing with him, or explaining things until it comes to that.

“Leaving,” you tell him, shrugging your jacket on and shouldering your backpack. “Going somewhere I can focus. Maybe the library, I’ll just rent a private study room there.”

“Wait—” Yeosang starts, but your exit cuts him off. You push past him and slip your shoes off, and don’t bother looking back. You know if you do, you’ll give in to the expression on his face. But, if you stick around any longer, you know you’ll lose your temper over the smallest thing.

The last thing you wanted to do was have another argument with him, especially just a couple of days before an exam.

For the rest of the night, you hole yourself up in a private study room at the university, grateful you live close enough that you have somewhere to escape to. The only times you leave the room are for bathroom breaks and some snacks, and when you finally decided it’s time to call it quits.

When you return home, you’re not surprised to find Yeosang asleep, but you are surprised to find him sleeping on the couch, seemingly passed out. The throw blanket that usually hung over the back of the sofa was partially draped over him, as though he’d gotten cold sometime during the night and he’d subconsciously grabbed at it for warmth.

You deposit your belongings in the living room, before turning to Yeosang and fixing the blanket that covers him, making sure it’s evenly distributed across him for warmth. Lifting a hand, you gently brush some hair aside out of his face, before kissing the birthmark next to his eye and heading to bed yourself.

When you wake in the morning, you are surprised to find Yeosang still at home. When you exit the bedroom, you have to blearily blink against the late morning light that filters through the windows. When was the last time it was so bright in the apartment, you wonder?”

“Good morning, beautiful,” Yeosang greets you, meeting you at the bedroom door and immediately planting a soft kiss on your lips. The action catches you by surprise, and you almost lose your balance.

“What are you still doing here?” You wonder, glancing around the apartment in confusion. He had practice he was supposed to be at. You hadn’t glanced at the time when you’d woken, but you were sure he had to be at least five hours late.

“I did the dishes,” Yeosang announces, quite proudly, in fact, smiling down at you. He moves aside to nod towards the kitchen. As stated, it’s completely devoid of all the dirty dishes that had once cluttered the counter. In fact, he’d done much more than clean the dishes—he’d cleaned the entire apartment.

There were no more food stains, the dust layer was gone, and the random things that were littered across the floor and furniture that had been thrown about were all put away. It was organized again, you realized as you glanced around. Clean and organized. It’s why the place looked so bright. He’d tidied everything up and tried to make the place more presentable and friendly.

“Babe—” You start, turning to look at him. There’s a stinging sensation settled just behind your eyes, emotion building up at the back of your throat. You’re so grateful, you’re close to crying.

But before you can continue, he cuts you off with another peck to your lips. Leaning back, he smiles sweetly at you, resting his forehead against yours.

“I made you breakfast. Come eat with me.”

“What about practice?”

“I told them I was sick,” he admits, his sweet smile turning into an impish grin.

“Yeosang!” You protest, leaning back from him. “Just a day can put you so far behind! Why would you do that?”

“I’ll just have to work a bit harder, it’s fine though.” He gives you the most nonchalant shrug, and you feel the corners of your mouth pull down into a frown, lower lip jutting out. The tears really do threaten to spill over, this time.

Seeing your expression, he clicks his tongue against his teeth, gently taking hold of your face and tilting your head back to look at him. “It’s fine, don’t cry. Some sacrifices are worth it, you know. Let’s spend today together. We’ll get some brain food in your stomach, stay in and study and get you prepared for your exams, and maybe go out to dinner later. Let’s make it worthwhile.”

There’s a knot in your throat that you smile past. “Yeah, let’s make it worthwhile,” you murmur, afraid if you raise your voice any higher you’ll actually cry at how sweet Yeosang could be.

[dazaaaai]

(person from ur tumblr): CAN I JUST SAY THIS BLOG IS AWESOME :D I cant believe I found another person who likes bsd! btw Im Kunikida's wife, nice to meet you. Tell ur hus that Kunikida wants an explanation regarding the sudden disappearance of his nb XDD Aaanyways, to get to the point, I was hoping maaaybe for a prompt like: Kunikida sick w/ cold and a sweet Dazai takes care of him...?

HI THERE!! Sorry this is so late omg it’s been almost half a year but BLESS!!! It’s always good to have more people who like the Bungalow Wild Pups :D hello Mrs. Kunikida it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, I’ll be sure to tell Dazai to attend to the case of Kunikida’s missing notebook XD And yes !! You may of course, have your request! I think it’s not as fluffy and one-on-one as you wanted, but I had a lot of fun writing, so thank you for requesting and I do hope you enjoy it as much as I did typing it up!!

This Can’t End Well

⋆pairing: none that are mentioned!⋆ characters: Doppo Kunikida, Osamu Dazai, Akiko Yosano (main); Atsushi Nakajima, Junichirou Tanizaki, Kenji Miyazawa, Edogawa Ranpo, OC (secondary); Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kirako Haruno and the clerks (mentioned)⋆genre: mostly comedy, fluff near the end⋆ rating: K+⋆warnings: mentions of vomiting and other sickness symptoms⋆words: 2051→  summary: Kunikida’s definitely sick, and neither the Agency nor he himself are entirely certain what to do. Dazai, however, has a plan…

   This couldn’t end well.

    He didn’t want to admit it. It was shameful, and he had work to do! He couldn’t just slack off, couldn’t just stay at home… He had a schedule to keep to, an ideal — there was no way he could allow himself to be lazy, no way he could allow himself to act like…

    Dazai pinches his cheek, “Kunikida-kuuuun. You look awfully red.”

    Kunikida growls, “Well. Maybe if someone weren’t standing here trying to annoy me to death, my complexion would be a lot paler.”

    “I don’t think it’s just that,” Dazai hums, moving his hand from his cheek to his forehead, Kunikida doing everything in his power to keep typing and not snap Dazai’s wrist. “Kunikida-kun, I think you have a fever!”

    “Absolutely not,” Kunikida quickly swats his hand away before returning to his ever-important document. Click-clack, click-clack…

    “I think maybe Yosano-sensei should take a look at you.”

    “Absolutely not.”

   And then, to Kunikida’s horror, his body completely betrays him. His nose seizes, his lip quivers, his face scrunches up…

   He does an awful, awful thing.

   He sneezes.

   “Bless you, Kunikida-san!” Comes Atsushi’s voice from across the desk, from where the tiger boy is sitting, on the other chair.

   Kunikida swiftly wipes his nose with a hanky, returning to his typing.

   “You know,” Dazai says, leaning against his chair. “Our little photographer says that where she’s from, a single sneeze means bad luck, or very simply, ‘be patient.’ Maybe your work can wait?”

   “Nonsense! I do not procrastinate,” But his voice sounds stuffy — stuffier than usual, Kunikida’s sure Dazai would remark — and his eyes feel weary. His throat is scratchy, too…

   “Uh-oh,” Dazai coos. “I think somebody’s definitely sick.”

   “No.”

   “You really don’t look so well, Kunikida-kun.”

   “I’m fine, Dazai!”

   “You’re sick,” Dazai’s teasingly insistent, turning to his subordinate, “Atsushi-kun! Doesn’t Kunikida-kun seem sick to you?”

   Atsushi glances nervously between his two superiors — one wears an easy-going smile and the other’s glaring daggers at Atsushi, as if daring him to speak up.

   “W-well,” he begins. “Kunikida-san’s a logical man… Why would he come to work if he wasn’t feeling well?”

   “I don’t know,” Dazai hums. “Why don’t you ask him?”

   Atsushi takes one look at Kunikida, yelps, and buries his face back in his paperwork.

   “I am not sick, Dazai,” Kunikida says, with a sense of finality — he refuses to accept any prolonging of this discussion. He has work to do.

   But then…

   Coughs.

   It’s a small, tickle of sorts, within the back of his throat, at first. Then the tickle turns into scraping in his lungs, and soon enough Kunikida’s hacking up spit and bile into the palm of his hand, desperately trying to keep the contents of his stomach inside his body where they belong.

   “Kunikida-san?” It’s Junichirou this time, he’s walking by with a stack of folders and binders. The boy’s bright red eyes gaze at Kunikida with concern, “Are you alright? You don’t look too good.”

   “Tanizaki-san, I assure you, I’m in perfect health—” Kunikida says, but ends up being unable to continue as another coughing fit wracks his chest.

   Junichirou frowns, “You should go lie down in Yosano-sensei’s infirmary, if only for a bit. It’d help a lot — I can take over what you need to do for today from here, if you need me to.”

   Kunikida dismisses him with a wave of his shaky hand, “No, I insist. I have it under control.”

   He returns to his typing, only to realize upon hitting a certain point in his document, that he needs to refer and source something from a case they’d solved last year — the files to do with that are not on the hard drive belonging to the computer he’s currently working with. In fact, they haven’t been digitized yet, so they’re on a shelf against the walls of the office, a little ways away from where Kunikida’s working.

   All he has to do is get up and get the binder. Simple, right?

   Not right. He gets up and is immediately hit by a wave of dizziness so intense that both Atsushi and Junichirou shout at once, “Kunikida-san!”

   They rush to his side just as his head’s about to hit the ground and catch him, the two younger, weaker boys barely holding the man upwards, dragging him back to his seat, which he collapses in gratefully, and while breathing heavily.

   “You definitely need a break,” Junichirou puts a hand to Kunikida’s forehead, tutting when he feels the high temperature of his skin.

   “No no,” Kunikida insists, but when he sits up he again finds himself dizzy, collapsing back once more in his seat.

   “Everybody needs to rest sometime,” Atsushi says, voice soft.

   “I can rest at night, when I’m asleep…”

   “Kunikida-san,” Junichirou continues. “We’re going to take you to Yosano-sensei and see what she thinks, okay?”

   Kunikida’s face manages to pale, at least, in comparison to how red it is from his fever. “Oh no.”

   Dazai cackles maniacally, “How exciting! Gotta get treated by the scary scary doctor when you have the suds, Kunikida-kuuun…!”

   “Is he alright?” Kenji asks, poking his head out from behind Atsushi and Junichirou, who’ve been waiting outside of Yosano’s office for about half an hour.

   He was asking this question to Yosano, of course, who’d finally unlocked the door and stepped outside, seeming bemused in expression but smiling gently at Kenji, then laughing.

   “Oh he’s fine,” she replies at last. “He’s just sick.”

   “I knew it!” Dazai yells cheerily from across the floor.

   “So he really is sick?” Junichirou bites his lip, “Can you heal him?”

   Yosano shakes her head, “No. My ability only works on injuries, and is mostly intended for the life-threatening kind… It can do nothing for psychological damage, medical problems you were born with, nor, in this particular case… The common cold.”

   “He caught a cold?” Atsushi’s almost in awe. “That seems so strange. He’s always seemed so healthy and hard-working.”

   “Finally took its toll,” Yosano sighs. “It’s a sign that he needs to rest.”

   She then narrows her eyes, looking all around at the Agency members.

   “Whatever you do,” she begins, tone deadly serious and commanding. “Do not let that man leave his bed. I don’t care if he begs or pleads or cries, he will not work today.”

   “B-but,” Atsushi tries to argue. “Yosano-sensei! You know Kunikida-san is so very, u-um—!”

   “Doctor’s orders,” is Yosano’s firm reply, as she exits the Agency with her heels pattering against the marble. “Now, I’m off to get cough syrup for the patient. Do what you will to make him feel comfortable, if you feel like it — though I’m sure he’d rather you all be working in his absence.”

   The door shuts, and a silence falls upon the members of the Agency.

   “What…” Atsushi trails off. “Now?”

   “Isn’t it obvious, Atsushi-kun?” Dazai laughs, coming to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “We take care of Kunikida-kun until Yosano-sensei returns from the pharmacy.”

   “How do we take care of him though?” Junichirou looks at Dazai, curious. “We’re not doctors.”

   “Oh, pish-tosh! It’s just a cold, right? Everybody has home remedies for a cold! Why not throw some suggestions my way, and I’ll see what I can do for my beloved coworker!”

   “Dazai-san,” Atsushi’s surprised. “I didn’t know you cared about Kunikida-san so much.”

   Dazai puts a hand to his chest, as if he’s completely and totally offended. “Why! Atsushi-kun. I’m struck at the very idea that you thought I don’t care about him. Nothing could be further from the truth! He takes such good care of the Agency, why don’t we return the favor for a change?”

   There are slow, then enthusiastic nods amongst the younger Agency members, but Ranpo simply cackles from where he sits, sucking on a lollipop.

   “Oh yeah,” he shakes his head, eyes ever closed in amusement. “This can’t end well.”

   “Now now,” Dazai claps his hands together. “Ranpo-san, don’t be so pessimistic! So, which of you lovelies has an idea for what we could do?”

   “Well,” Kenji taps his chin. “Honey will do the trick, if he has a sore throat.”

   The brown-eyed girl sitting next to Kenji sticks out her tongue, “Honey. Yucky! I hate that stuff. I have a better idea,” she gets up off her seat, and skips off to the front door, “I’m going to go down to the café, ask Lucy if she has any maple syrup. Same effect, tastes much better!”

   Before anyone can stop her, the door is opened and shut once more.

   “Maybe something hot and warm to eat,” Atsushi turns around. “Like soup.”

   “Atsushi-kun, can you cook?”

   “M-more or less, but—”

   “Wonderful! Accompany the little princess down to the cafe and ask if you can use their kitchen and ingredients — be sure to tell them to put charges on your tab, alright?”

   “B-but!”

   “You’re the one who suggested it, not me. Now go, go go go!”

   Atsushi sighs, getting up and doing so.

   “What should we do?” Junichirou and Kenji ask in unison.

   “Hmmm,” Dazai tips his head, thinking. “You two should take care of Kunikida’s work while he’s away from his keyboard. I’m sure he’d appreciate that tons!”

   Junichirou furrows his eyebrows, “His work is really complicated, at least to me. I’m just an errand boy, Dazai-san…”

   Kenji nods in nervous agreement, “Yeah. And I still don’t know what a computer is, let alone how to use one!”

   Dazai laughs, like it’s not a problem at all. “You’re two capable boys! I’m sure you can figure out.”

   They exchange glances, then get up, bowing lightly, saying, “We’ll do our best!”

   Dazai waves them off happily, then turns to the infirmary’s door with what can only be described as a grin akin to that of the Cheshire Cat.

   So begins his fun…

   “Y-Yosano-sensei!” Kunikida splutters as the woman enters her office once more, having returned with the cough medicine she’d promised.

   “Hmm?” Yosano raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow in confusion. “Kunikida-kun, you’re acting so scared as if I might treat you with my ability.”

   “This is worse,” he whispers. “So much worse.”

   “What happened?” Yosano rolls down one of her gloves to check her watch, “I couldn’t have been gone more than forty minutes.”

   “Dazai happened.”

   And Kunikida, with a dying voice, though Yosano insists for him to rest his throat, regales her on all the awful things that have occurred in those devastating forty minutes that Yosano was absent.

   First, Atsushi and his little friend come back up into the Agency, one with a pot of hot soup, and the other with a big urn (that’s the only word that comes to Kunikida’s mind, as it was just so large) of maple syrup, both insisting that he eat it all.

   He, er, had expelled most of it, to his utter humiliation and to Yosano’s complete unsurprise.

   And then, it got worse… Dazai came in and tried to cheer him up, as it were, by driving him “COMPLETELY UP THE WALL” and constantly poking and prodding him, pretending to give him a soothing massage when really he was nearly breaking Kunikida’s foot to go along with his disease.

   Then, to top it all off, Junichirou comes in, maybe five or ten minutes before Yosano’s return, only to tell him that he finished all of Kunikida’s work… When Kunikida asked Junichirou to show him, Kenji waddled in with the laptop, and after seeing the state it was in, Kunikida could do nothing but scream.

   Kunikida’s end up sent home for the week — and the detectives are given a thorough scolding from the President. Ranpo laughs about it nonstop, every day up until Kunikida returns…

   And once he does, nobody goes near him, not even Dazai.

   They know if they do…

   It won’t end well.

   But, when Kunikida arrives, all better now though even angrier than usual, to sit at his desk…

   He finds a little card perched on his laptop.

   He takes the small, thick paper, and unfolds it to reveal the words, surely in one of the members’ neat calligraphy…

We’re sorry!! Get well soon, Kunikida-san!

   And it’s signed by every one of the detectives and clerks, even Dazai and Ranpo.

   So maybe it did end well, after all.

[insomniac-arrest]

Poppy

genre: humor, coffee shop, getting together

words: 3k

Summary: Alex has never seen anyone destroy their food like that before. And she never wants to see it again.

The woman tearing poppyseeds off muffins has her full attention, and internal wrath. They keep meeting like this.

She picked the poppy seeds out the muffin.

I think I hate her.

Her long pink nails dug into the soft yellow skin of the muffin top and picked them out. One. By. One. Setting them aside on the plate like she wanted to spend the rest of her life in my coffee shop doing the impossible.

It was the worst moment of my life, and I almost smokey-the-beared myself in the 6th grade (only you can prevent forest fires kids! Say no to lighter fluid and bad decision-making skills).

I wrinkle my nose and wish, not for the first time, that my sheer power of will could do some sort of Darth Vader magic on her. She was obviously already part of the dark side, you don’t forfeit your soul for nothing, and apparently, trade it for very bad taste in food etiquette.

“Alex,” I felt a coworker growing concerned, “Alex, there’s a spill on the corner table.” Abigail was snapping her gum at me like she was going to smack me into the next shift. It was one of those days.

Days when woman in bright pink scarves and fuzzy sweaters picked out poppy seeds from perfectly good muffins.

I keep my head stiffly pointed toward her as I make the rounds to the tables, delicately wiping them down as I imagined being a ship’s cabin boy scrubbing down the vessel. I’m not sure if that ever helps.

“Waitress!” I wasn’t a waitress. “Excuse me.”

I turn slowly, like I had wooden gears in my neck instead of tendons and a bad stress knot that may one day kill me- which was likely enough.

I walk stiltedly, stiffly over to the Poppy Woman table. She was smiling at me with the sheen of someone who used chapstick.

I bunch the rag up, “How can I help you?” I smile, all of my training had been preparing me for this. Poppy woman.

She looks both ways, “I was just wondering,” she holds up her small plate, “where could I throw this out?” In all fairness we did hide our trash can under a low overhang, obscuring the mouth of it with no concrete sign to tell people, yes, yes, we are a reasonable business that wants your money. That sign would be good.

I lift my quaking finger, “over there.” I reach my hand out, “I could take it.” My voice was still crowded with sugar sweet customer service. But it was fading, my willpower was compromised.

“That’s very considerate, I mean, if it’s no trouble.” She reached for her purse, I stand there frozen.

I chew on bottom lip like a dog toy before opening my mouth again, “was...was there anything wrong with the muffin?” My strongest defense was a bold offense.

“Oh,” she looks down and then back up again, she tugs on her purse. “I just think there was a mixup.” She smooths out her long honey-colored ponytail, “I little hiccup.” “Uh,” I blink a couple times and tilt my head, “I’m so sorry about that. What was the matter?” The woman lifts her chin, still exhuming sunshine like I was a solar panel. “Well, you see. She asked for my name. But I think she wrote down what kind of muffin I wanted at the same time.” She woman flattens her skirt out. “So… it was an easy mistake.” “She wrote down poppy muffin?” I could feel question marks forming above my head like I was a cartoon character.

“No, no, my name is Poppy.” “Your name is Poppy?” “My name is Poppy.” I feel a creeping embarrassment crawling up my neck, I just made the woman confirm several times that she was named after a flower/muffin.

“I am sorry about that, again.” I hurry to take the plate away and get back to the authority of my station. “Can I get you a blueberry one instead? On the house.” The woman beams, “Really? I didn’t want to start a fuss.” I shake my head and I’m a little annoyed with her again (who doesn’t try return the muffin??), “It’s no problem, that was our fault after all.” She followed me smoothly over to the case and I see her round figure and practical shoes.

I take the tongs and fish a blueberry muffin out, “there.” I turn, “I hope you like this kind.” We were running out.

“I do,” she cheers and reaches out. “I’ll have to come to this shop more often.” I want to tell her no, never come back here again and forget that we exist, but it was a little late for that. I smile, creating an ecosystem of renewable energy around my face. “We’re happy to have you! We love our guests.” If I was a programmable bot I imagine that’s also along the lines of what they would say. She laughs a little bit and waves, “goodbye then Alexandra.” I wish I could throw my name tag out the window, I still holding the carnage remains of what used to be a muffin.

My coworker glances at me and whispers, “why are you so dramatic? Stop staring.” I turn around and fluff my curly hair, “I was threatened.” “No. You’re a theatre major.” I stick my tongue out and turn back to the case, I hoped didn’t find her way back.

----

Flower women all across the globe were determined to ruin me- though it was mostly this one.

“What is she doing?” I whisper, ever so softly, holding the attention of our newest team member, Mike something.

“Is the cappuccino machine supposed to foam like that?” He was sweating, voice cracking like the san antonio fault line.

“She is ruining that cake.”

“It’s making the whirring noise, Jeff didn’t mention anything about a whirring noise.” Mike something was holding a cup like it was a life support system on a flooding lifeboat.

I keep my eyes focused on the real issues, “you can’t just literally cut off all the icing and eat the middle part. You might as well just eat bread! Bread!” Poppy was back. Muffin woman, her rompage unending.

“Alex-”

“Against the geneva convention.” “It’s making that sound.” Mike sounded like he wished he was still living on his mother’s couch.

I hear the rumbling of the machine’s behind me, no doubt planning it’s own self-destruction and trying to bring us with it.

“Yes yes,” I turn back to my job, slinging another rag over my shoulder as I go to dart behind the counter. “It’s just overheated, give it a moment.” I see more of the morning crowd gathering in line, Maisy was brushing them off easily as she explained that it might just be another moment. I go start on the second cappuccino machine.

“Let’s just fill the coffee orders first.” I say briskly, “And then investigate.”

“Didn’t you just say it was overheating?” I turn to him, “No. The lady.” Mike covered his face and rubbed her eyes a little bit, “I think…” “Chop chop,” we have drinks coming out and a hot cinnamon roll that someone yelled at us about, but I had worse mornings.

I wondered why she was coming in, and if I had just done this to myself to begin with. I tempted her with the blueberry muffin and like a tamed deer she became attached.

She sat upright with her computer in front of her, perfectly upright and focused. She was typing something and leaving the icing to the cake completely off to the side. Why did she order a cake? My eyes were getting red, she was still in my shop.

“Alex, if you get any more creepy I am going to apologize to that lady myself.” Maisy was tapping her foot, freckles popping out as she gave her a disapproving look. I turn slowly, “Yes. Before she takes you out. Soviet style.”

“What?” “Like a Soviet Spy? Who’s never been outside before. Or interacted with people.” Maisy flicks me in the shoulder, “please, either use that imagination to write a memoir, or sweep my floors this time.” I wrinkle my nose, I logically knew that the sooner we swept the easier closing would be. But that was still hours away.

And she was still here.

I go to start my routine of finding where an older gentleman had devoured a cookie with crumb casualties spread on all sides, I work my way up past the back tables and toward the front.

Maybe it would have turned out differently if I hadn’t already opened the floodgate, passed the line into her domain, already crossed the summoning line. I am almost right next to her, she was glancing at me, most likely for good reason.

I open my mouth, brushing my hair aside and smiling, “was that one better?” I point to the cake and try to speak casually.

She shrugs, “I like the inside of cake.” She moves it around, “so yes, this was very good.” “I see.” My smile was straining into a grand canyon. “Well, let us know if there’s anything we can do.” I turn away, thinking it was the best way to control myself.

“Can I ask you a question?” I freeze, this was the part where she asked me for American nuclear codes.

I clutch my broom and see the lights in the cafe brighten, the sun was going down.

I nod, “sure, of course.” Poppy sits up straight and takes out a notepad, “I didn’t want to ask you right away since you’re at work,” she shifts from side to side, “but I was looking for someone to get a couple brief questions from.” I tilt my head to the side, “why?” I couldn’t help it, this wasn’t what I was expecting. And had planned for a lot of different scenarios.

She clears her throat, “you see,” she glances up with large brown eyes, “I’m writing a novel and I need reference material. For working in a shop like this.” I resist wrinkling my nose, that didn’t sound like something I would want to read. “Shoot.” I finally say hoarsely.

She practically bounces in place, “how long have you worked here?” “Five years.” I look my nail beds as I say, disinterested, cool, “started in college and then… kept going.” I feel like a dog with its tail between its legs as I admit that.

“Perfect,” she was still jotting things down, “what’s the average morning like?” My theory was bridging from ‘soviet spy’ to ‘alien.’

“Well,” I am tempted to sit down, “well, where to start.” Her eyes dart out, “start at the beginning.” I can’t tell if she’s telling a joke or not, “first there’s the 5am crowd, sometimes it’s empty for a little bit before they arrive, but it’s a mix of bus drivers and mega-business people. The occasional college student.” “Good good,” she was nodding and I was sitting up taller.

“It’s best not to make eye contact with those folks, most of them have the fact that it’s 5am on their minds. In their beings.”

I hear a little laugh and look up, Poppy was laughing a little bit, she had the type of Real Smile that ate up sceneries and filled up poetry books. I gulp.

“You’re funny.” My eyebrows raise, that wasn’t that funny. My cheeks heat up, “well, then we have to get 6am-” “Alex,” I hear my manager calling out to me, “What are you doing?”

I make a face and realize that I had been absorbed in being actually interviewed. I turn my face away quickly and go for my broom like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

I glance back to Poppy who was writing things quickly down again.

I give her a little salute, she laughs. “Duty calls.” I jog back over to Maisy who wanted me to take the trash out early, “What were you doing?” I heave a sigh, Poppy was still caught in the corner of my eye like a stray piece of dust. “Do you ever flirt with the food devil?” “Stop talking, no. Go, trash.” I hunch my shoulders over and try not to play that scene over and over in my head. Poppy. Questions. Calling me funny. I walk like a wobbly fawn outside to the dumpster and stay there for a for a long time.

I was suddenly not rooting for her to get lost on the way through the door. I bury my face in my hands, I was apparently easy like that.

--------

I was at the counter when she came in again the next day. It was 9am, one of the busiest hours and I only numbly recognize that she had joined the line.

And then I really realized.

“Oh,” I say softly and my eyes find the end of her honey ponytail. “Oh?”

“Is my order too big?” A teenager questioned me and I questioned him in my head on why he was here on a school day.

I turn back, “3 frappuccinos, one with no whip to go?” I continue. I sort and press buttons and whisper instructions to Mike when he gets overwhelmed, I smile. And the menace, the pleasant menace draws closer.

I’m a little nervous, but for different reasons this time. Mostly I think it’s because I’m easy.

“How can I help you?” My voice almost cracks like a broken violin string.

Poppy stepped up to the counter, tilting her head and leaning forward. “Do you work here every day or is this just coincidence?” It was playful.

I look in both directions, “No breaks for me. Almost every day.” “I suppose it’s because I’m here a lot too.” She reflects mildly. I flick a half-smile up, a real one. “I assumed you just wanted to move in here. We have the room.” She laughs, “If you have enough coffee cups I can build something, I was awfully good at building forts as a kid.” Why was she like this? I was bad at keeping enemies.

I chuckle back, “I’ll join you, an inhouse sick day. Even though I don’t get sick days.” It was almost a grumble, I notice the people in back of Poppy getting ancy.

“That’s a shame.” She seemed genuinely concerned.

“It’s okay. What can I get you then?” I take a deep breath, “nothing with poppy seeds I assume.”

She grins, “not this time. I’ll have a latte and everything bagel.” I nod and punch it in before I can open my mouth to keep this going. She waves, “good talking to you Alexandra.” “Alex,” I correct her before she leaves, “It’s Alex.”

Her smile was so slow and warm it felt a sunrise, “Alex then.” I was dying in new and interesting ways each second.

--------

“Why?” I was finishing up emptying the coffee grounds as I stared, “Why would she…?” Our war of attrition was back.

Could I outlast this temptress though? She was cutting up her bagel like it was a delicacy, with a fork and a knife and putting cream cheese on the little triangle bits. My jaw was almost on the ground.

“She’s so cute… but so wrong.” “Are you mumbling to yourself again?” My second manager, Jeff, was squinting at me.

“Alex has been doing that.” Mike was not on my side, I shoot him a warning look, he takes a step back.

“I’m just saying,” I try not to point, “that’s the worst possible way to eat a bagel. Possibly not human.” My alien theory was coming back into play.

Jeff rolls his eyes, “isn’t that the one you held up the line for?” Mike mouths something that looks like ‘flirting’ and I mouth something like ‘snitch.’

Jeff nods at me, “You should talk to her, your shifts almost up, right?” I start to sweat, “kinda.” Jeff wags a finger, “I’ll tell Maisy you couldn’t go through with it.” “I’ll tell Maisy about your huge crush then.” He whacks me gently on the side of the head, fair enough.

“Alright, alright.” I straighten my shirt just as the clock ticks by. “I’ll go clock out.”

My heart was beating loudly, et tu, bodily functions?

I take my time taking off my smock and punching in my employee number like I had forgotten the combination.

I take a deep breath, hoist my bag on my shoulder and wonder if she’s still even sitting there.

Poppy was sitting perfectly in place with her computer in front of her when I leave the back room.

I creep toward her general direction, like I was just going to pass her and exit through the back way, she looks up, her round eyes flashing.

“Ah,” she grins, “I was hoping I would catch you.” I stop in place, she was hoping things.

“Why do you destroy our foods?” I blurted out because I couldn’t think of anything else to do.

Her face goes slightly slack, “what’s that?” I point down at her bagel remnants, “food…”  She glances down and suddenly feel terribly out of place, “why.” “Oh,” Poppy seemed taken back.

I backtrack, “not that it’s totally a bad thing.” I look for forgiveness in my heart.

I’m about to apologize again and leave when I hear her little laugh again.

“You were upset about the food, oh my God.” She pushed her ponytail back, “I thought...well I guess it doesn’t matter.” “What did you think?” I sit down in the seat across from her. She shuts her laptop.

“I thought I either offended you beyond belief or…” She fidgets from side to side, “Well, I was being silly.” I reach out like a dying man reaches for water. “Tell me. I’m game.” “I don’t really know you.” “I know you don’t like poppy seeds,” I smile, “and that you’re writing some sort of novel.” Her face pinks gently and she ducks her head for a moment, “well, you make all your drinks with extra foam.” “I try,” I shrug.

“And studied theatre at Metro.” I sit up straight, “I mean, I did,” I eye her, “how did you know?” Her eyes go wide, “I wasn’t stalking you.” I snort a little bit, “And I thought I was the off one… well, good to know.”

“I just saw your facebook.” I laugh again as she looks like a deer in the headlights.

“Go on,” I lean forward, “what is it that you thought?”

“That I shouldn’t go on Facebook any more.” She puts her face in her hands.

“Don’t worry about it.” I wave a hand in the air, “I am still curious though.” I prompt her again. She shifts from side to side, “Well, it was a very intense stare…I was being silly, like I said.” “Uh-huh,” I lifted an eyebrow, “I like silly.” She groans, “Look, I thought you liked me and that’s what was with all the looks. There. So I came back.” She puts her laptop quickly away and I have to grab her wrist like an impulsive skydiver. My face heats up, “I don’t not not like you back.” She gives me a coy smile, “spoken like a true wordsmith.” I wanted to roll my eyes, “okay, now I don’t not not not like you.” “I’m teasing,” she pushes on my shoulder, “This is why I thought you were cute.” “You thought I was cute?” “If you’re into it, then yes.” She straightens up, “if you’re not into it, well, my name is Catherine Heigl and you never met me.”

I laugh, “Catherine Heigl?” She twists her hair up, “or Laura Bush. Anyone else really.” “How about Poppy?” I offer, “no seeds. And I’ll take you out to dinner.” She beams and starts to scribble something out on a napkin, “am I ever going to live that down with you?” “Never,” I say hotly, “you’ll have to make it up to me.” “A tough customer.” She pushes her number over to me.

I giddily pick it up and look over at her, “You’re a better one.” I reach my hand out, “walk you home?”

Poppy accepted.

[artificialqueens]

Mother, My New Girlfriend is a Ghost, Again 3 (Katlaska) - Jem

AN: I’m back, midterms are over, and I have a sideblog now @ artificialjem . Get into it. Thanks all of you who asked for more, ily

Summary: an orgasm a day keeps the doctor away

Chapter 3

Move to America—->Find a place to live——->Get a job——->Make Friends——>Find a rich spouse to buy nice things.

That had originally been Katya’s well-thought-out plan for her life. Instead, it had been more like:

Move to America——->Make a friend by dumpster outside their place of employment——>Crash on said friend’s couch——–>fall into crippling depression—–>Move into an apartment——->Fuck a ghost——->Get a job as a sexy receptionist

Maybe it was all done in the wrong order but she was checking off the things on her original list in a more, unconventional manner. She had friends (two that she never saw anymore), she had a place to live (haunted, but a minor inconvenience), a girlfriend (not rich, not a spouse, oh yeah and not alive), and finally she’d applied at the optometrist’s office one street over and she got to wear sexy, business woman clothes even though all she did was answer the phone and make lists.

Despite the fact that Katya was probably mentally unstable for dating a not-real person, her life was kind of on track? She even went to the gym a couple times so she could stop doing yoga and gymnastics in the living room. She didn’t really like the big, buff men staring at her while she did squats but she supposed it must have meant her ass was getting finer by the day. She’d tried to get Alaska to join her on her fitness journey but the lanky girl had protested strongly.

“I’m dead, there’s literally zero reason to exercise. I don’t think I’m going to change my body in the slightest.” She’d explained with the vocal fry that had made its way into Katya’s heart.

Katya still couldn’t wrap her head around what Alaska could and could not do. Like, she could breathe and eat and sleep, but didn’t need to; she could move and have a physical body but moving and existing didn’t make her tired. But Katya wasn’t an expert and didn’t have any other ghosts to consult so she just let it all slide. Besides, she’d watched Alaska attempt a push up once and it had been pathetic honestly. Her arms looked like they had a bit of muscle but they were about as useful as sticks of dried spaghetti. That would be a no to a gym companion, then.

They still spent a lot of time together, even with Katya working and working out.

“What do you mean you’ve never seen Contact?” Katya asked Alaska in disbelief one evening.

“Is there something I’m missing, like has this movie been a meme or something that I don’t know about?”

“No, it’s just iconic.”

“You’re the one who hasn’t ever seen the Golden Girls”

“Sue me, I’m Russian.”

“And yet you’ve seen some random alien movie.”

“It’s not a random alien movie, it’s Jodie Foster discovering extraterrestrial life in a compelling science fiction drama.”

“Sometimes it confuses me that you have picked up on literally zero American social cues and yet you become obsessed with very specific strange things.”

“Can we watch it??”

“Fine.”

They started the film, but watching tv always turned into making out, which quickly enough turned into Alaska eating Katya out on the couch because she was a relentless sex fiend. She supposed the girl must get bored sitting around the apartment all day and had a lot of pent up sexual frustration.

Katya could hardly complain. An orgasm (or two or three) a day kept the doctor away, right? That tongue could make her fall apart so hard and fast.

Alaska was usually very in control, but damn, she was a kinky bitch. It was a wonderful power reversal for Katya to order her around.

“Take off your skirt and panties, slowly, one at a time.” Katya whispered in her ear. Alaska stripped, eyes hungry.

“I’ll tell you what I’d like to do to you.” Katya listed off a variety of activities and watched Alaska squirm as she refused to touch her more than gentle kisses along her collarbone. The girl reached her hands to touch herself, but Katya grabbed them to stop her. “You don’t touch yourself or me until I say so.”

Alaska whimpered, and Katya pushed her shirt up over her head and off her body so she was standing completely naked. Katya was still clothed, other than the panties that had been tossed out from under her skirt earlier.

She led Alaska to the bedroom, because for some reason they always had sex on the couch when there was a perfectly good bed right there. She pushed the girl onto the fluffy sheets and straddled her waist with her legs, careful not to make actual contact. She continued to press her lips along her throat, still avoiding too much stimulation. Alaska bucked her hips in an attempt to meet Katya, but Katya gently pushed her down on the stomach.

“What did I say?” Katya asked in a raspy voice.

“Not to touch you until you say so.” Alaska parroted, biting her lip and obviously desperate.

“That’s right.” Katya carefully rolled off the bed, reaching for the drawer in the bedside table. The perk of being a working woman was having a little cash to do some online shopping. When she got back to the bed she ordered Alaska to put her hands above her head.

“I’m not going to restrain you but you will keep your hands there, right?”

Alaska nodded, but at this point Katya was pretty sure she’d agree to anything just to be touched.

Katya clicked on the vibrator she’d just bought and watched Alaska’s eyes widen at the sensation on her inner thigh. Katya moved her hand in a circle, still careful not to get too close to between Alaska’s legs. She pushed her knees open a little further and drew closer and closer.

“Fuck, Katya.” Alaska gasped, and she was practically dripping already. Katya took her time before finally spreading her lips and placing the device on her clit. It added a whole new layer to their routine of mouths and hands. It didn’t take long before she was coming on top of Katya’s fingers and her handy new toy.

Needless to say, that was an online purchase worth the extra shipping.

——–

“Alaska?” Katya asked. It was the middle of the night, and her and Alaska were cuddled up in bed.

“Yeah?” Alaska responded, obviously awake.

“What is it like when you shift out?”

“Oh.” Alaska seemed surprised, like she never expected questions about her condition. Fair enough, she probably liked to pretend she was normal. Despite that, she still explained. “I guess it’s like, I’m here but my physical body is gone. And my consciousness kind of floats unless I really focus. Like, I’m aware of everything going on but the passage of time is meaningless and it all blurs together. “

“That sounds terrifying.”

“It kind of is. When I’m out, I’m trapped, and then it really feels like being a ghost. Sometimes there are flashes from when I was alive, or even current memories. Everything in my head is just magnified.”

“Have you been shifting lately?” It had been on Katya’s mind. She’d never gotten home from work or woken up without Alaska here anymore.

“Barely. Like I said, I don’t have much control over it most of the time. I think I could choose to shift out, but it’s not easy to shift in. Lately, I’ve mostly been here. Maybe with an hour or two every few days out.”

“I’m glad you’ve been here.” Katya whispered and pressed a kiss onto Alaska’s shoulder.

————

When Katya awoke, Alaska was getting dressed. She’d pulled on a blouse and a skirt, but the god-awful sweater she’d first appeared in was slung across her arm.

“Don’t you want to throw that thing out, it’s stained and you’re the one that says my clothes are gross.” Katya said jokingly from her position on the bed.

“I might need it.” Alaska said vaguely, fingering the worn fabric.

“For what? You don’t get cold, do you?” At least Katya didn’t think she did. Alaska never complained about the temperature and the apartment was always either too hot or too cold.

“It was Sharon’s.” Alaska admitted like her walls had been cracked. It was just a hoodie.

Katya didn’t really know how to reply to that.

“Do you know why you haven’t moved on?” She asked out of the blue, except somehow right on topic.

“No.” Alaska was closed off again.

Katya could tell that was as much as she was going to get from the conversation, so she let it go. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know, anyways.

——–

Trixie was tired. Her boss had been overly demanding, her coworkers were annoying, and she needed to take some time for herself. So she pulled out her phone a shot off a text to Katya.

Do you want to go out dancing tonight?

A few seconds later she got a reply.

Sorry, me and Alaska are hanging out tonight

Of course they were. Trixie was happy that Katya had finally found someone, she really was. The woman spent way too much time inside alone, and since she’d gotten together with Alaska, Trixie could tell she was much happier. It’s just that she was never around anymore. Granted, Katya had been barely present before, but she didn’t even see Trixie or Tatianna occasionally now. Never mind that, the slut was probably busy getting fingerbanged by her new girlfriend and Trixie didn’t need her.

Have fun ;) She typed back before heading out alone. It was just going to be for a couple of hours so she could dance away the stress eating at her.

So a couple hours turned into four. People kept buying her drinks, and she was having a good time even though she was alone. She let the music just fill her up and erase everything that had been bothering her lately.

Later in the night, Trixie went to the bathroom, careful to finish her drink before leaving the bar. When she opened the door, there was a girl with long, voluminous black hair and injection-plump lips sitting on the bathroom floor. She looked very out of it, and Trixie helped the girl to her feet.

“Thanks.” The stranger slurred as she stood. She was absolutely wasted and Trixie needed to support her weight to keep her from tumbling back to her spot on the floor. “Anyone ever told you that you look like Barbie?” The girl remarked, barely meeting her eye.

“All the time.” It was the blonde hair and admittedly doll-like makeup. Trixie really didn’t mind though, Barbie had always been her childhood idol. “Do you need help getting home?” She asked the girl, trying not to encourage her to speak too much.

“Home? What does that even mean?”

Oh no. She was obviously an emotional drunk. Trixie thought it would probably be best to get out before the tears started, but the stranger continued.

“I had a home, a small little apartment in the complex on the corner of Marlborough and Haringway, 519, and it was tiny but I had her and that’s all I needed. Well, her and the drinking and the drugs.”

“I think you’re really drunk, and you probably shouldn’t be telling me any of this.” Trixie tried to get the woman not to divulge her entire personal life. She’d probably regret it in the morning.

“No Barbie, I trust you. I’m Sharon, by the way.”

“I’m Trixie.” She reluctantly offered.

“I’m not gonna remember that, Barbie.” Sharon paused. “Can I bum a cig?”

“Sorry, I don’t-

“I shouldn’t smoke anyways. Alaska always wanted me to stop smoking. It was pretty hypo, hypocriti, you know what I mean, because she didn’t smoke but she still ended up dead.”

Fuck, this girl was messed up. Trixie was a little out of her depth.

“Is there anyone I can call for you, Sharon?”

“No, Alaska’s dead. It’s been a year to the day since I found her strewn out on the bathroom floor. She was beautiful, but not like in the movies. There was vomit on the hoodie I lent her but her hair was all shiny and blonde still. You know, it’s funny because I dumped her but she left me.”

“Can I call you an uber? Are you gonna be ok?” At this point Trixie was a bit worried and wanted to make sure this girl got home safely.

“I’m always ok.” She leaned her head against Trixie’s chest. “You know, for a plastic girl you’re pretty soft.”

It might have been sweet if she hadn’t thrown up all over Trixie’s shoes seconds later.

She called an uber and managed to load the wasted girl into the car. She stayed with her until they reached Sharon’s apartment and when girl fumbled with her keys Trixie took them from her and opened the door. The apartment was a bit of a dump, but not un-liveable. So much for the “what even is a home?” comments earlier. This was a fine place to live. The girl was just upset,Trixie could understand that. The one-year anniversary of a girlfriend’s death was probably enough of an excuse for anyone to get piss drunk. At least she didn’t seem high, so Trixie wasn’t too worried.

It was only once she had brought Sharon home and tucked her into her apartment safely that Trixie realized that Sharon had said she used to live in apartment 519 in Katya’s building. That was Katya’s apartment. And what a coincidence that her dead girlfriend had been named Alaska just like Katya’s new lover.

Maybe Trixie was a little bit more drunk and delusional than she’d previously thought because suddenly, despite all logical reasoning, those things didn’t seem like much of a coincidence.