#flawless custom fitting

[kitten4sannie]

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, only praise and pet names (omg who hacked k4s???), groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping on a couch in a very crowded room, one neck bite, san cums untouched, oral (receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of self-sucking the rich individuals around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a starter house. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

-

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands to various locked-in acquaintances, some off doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink anymore, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, a half-empty champagne flute in hand, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

San gulped, just about spilling the drink he was still holding onto, unknowingly spreading his thighs open further, as if he was giving you an unspoken invitation to climb onto his lap.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

“And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” San smiled devilishly, his dimples appearing, kicking off his pants and running his closed hand along his curved, dripping length. He pressed his thighs against the side of the bed, running the tip of his cock over your lips, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

“I would.” Lifting yourself up so that you could completely rid yourself of your disheveled dress, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you.

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[epicsims]

SANDSTORM HAIRSTYLE | TS4 Designed for females from Teen to Elder, this mod features more than 80 stunning swatches and is Color Wheel Slider Ready for unlimited color customization. • Smooth Weights for a flawless fit • Morphs for enhanced flexibility and realism • Custom Thumbnail for easy browsing in your catalog • HQ Mod Compatible for top-notch quality DOWNLOAD HERE | JOIN FOR FREE TO GET ACCESS! Want to see more? Support me on Patreon for exclusive content. Hope it brings you joy!🌷 Share your snaps with #epicsims

[coldfanbou]

The First One is On The House

Ningning fic once again a challenge given by @i-am-lifeform24

Length 2K

Ningning X Mreader

“Hello? Yes, I can fit her into my schedule. I should have an opening at 7. Later? I guess I could take her in after the show. Alright, I look forward to her visit.” You put the phone back on the receiver and walked back to the table; you were so looking forward to going home early for the evening when you got a call from that customer. You would've preferred taking the appointment for another day, but you wanted to keep your weekend free. You sit back in your office chair and stare at the ceiling before gazing at the clock hanging on the wall. Three hours, that’s how long you’d have to wait for your guest to arrive. 

Getting bored, you pulled out your phone and checked social media, seeing posts from stars from earlier in the day as they walked the red carpet for some fashion event nearby. You see a few of your usual clientele post pictures, liking them before moving on. Eventually, you get tired of that and begin some repetitive tasks, trying to seem busy as you wait for the client to arrive despite them arriving a couple of hours from now. 

Soon enough, you went back to looking at your phone, checking out photos from the event, and seeing the different kinds of people that went. You stopped on a picture of Ningning from the group Aespa when you heard the door open. It was your friend, a manager for various groups. “Sorry for getting here late. She just felt so tired during the show, and we thought it best to call you.”

“Just who is it? That they needed a massage so desperately? I could’ve had a nice evening for myself.”  

Your friend stands aside, letting his gues walk forward. “I’m sorry for making you stay late.” You recognize the woman as she bows her head; it’s Ningning. She was still in the same clothes you had seen in the picture a moment ago, a revealing short black dress that clung to her body.

You wave her off as you refocus. “It’s fine. Just prepare for the massage. I’m going to talk to your manager a bit.” You point the small woman toward a changing room and look back toward your friend. 

You see him heading out the door before you can say anything. “I’m going to get some food. I’ll be back in an hour.” 

“Hey!” The door shuts, and you’re left alone again. You head toward the window and watch him walk toward a nearby restaurant, shaking your head. “I’m gonna talk that guy's head off when he comes back.”

A small voice catches your attention, “I’m ready.” You turn back around to see Ningning covering herself with the towel provided. “Where did my manager go?”

“He went to go eat across the street. Anyway, please follow me.” You lead Ningning into one of the massage rooms and have her lie face down on the table. “I hope the clothing in there wasn’t too tight. I’m going to move the towel down now.” Ningning nods her head.

You move it down slowly, revealing the tan bra that was provided to all female guests who would rather not be naked. It was thick and padded, meant to be comfortable. Your eyes move down her back, noting her flawless skin. You lather your hands in an unscented oil, rubbing it in between your fingers before placing your hands on her lower back. You apply slight pressure on her back, dragging your thumbs away from the center of her body. “Did you have a good time at the fashion show?” 

“It was alright, but the chairs were so uncomfortable. My body started to ache from sitting in them.” 

“I see. Is there anywhere that aches specifically?” 

“I mean, my butt hurts,” Ningning says with a laugh. You just nod along, creating an awkward atmosphere. You kick yourself for not laughing at her joke. Continuing the massage, you move your way up her back, reaching her shoulder. You could feel the tension in them and increase your strength as you began to massage all the knots out. Ningning groans as she feels your hands dig into her shoulders and release the tension in them. “Ooh, that feels so good.” You focus your efforts on Ningning shoulders, and once they relax, you take a step back. 

“I’ll be moving down now.”

“That’s fine,” Ningning moans as she places her head on top of her hands. You move the towel up slightly, keeping her ass covered as you begin to work on her thighs. As you ran your hands across them, you could feel the toned muscles underneath. Working on the one nearest to you, you give her thigh a strong squeeze.

Feeling your hands move across her thighs, Ningning feels her body getting warmer. She used her hands to cover her mouth, struggling to keep her groans from filling the room. Your hands felt good; Ningning could feel a growing wetness between her legs as your finger brushed against the inside of her thigh. Her cheeks begin to turn red as you switch to the other side, starting the process over again. When you accidentally squeeze her thigh a bit too hard, Ningning couldn’t hide her moan—letting the long, smooth sound of her voice fill the room before catching herself. She buries her head in her hands, too embarrassed to look anywhere in the room. You try to ignore it and continue on.

Needing Ningning to turn onto her back, you finally speak up, “Ningning, I finished with your backside; I need you to turn over.”

“O-okay,” She turns herself over slowly, glancing your way. You began to massage her arms, and as you got to her shoulders, you noticed Ningning continually glancing at you.  Nearing her chest, Ningning groaned again. She rubbed her legs together, growing more aroused as your hands glided along her body. Moving down to her legs, you noticed the wet spot between Ningning’s legs, and she knew it too.

You tried to ignore it, but Ningning continued to rub her legs together as you tried to massage her. “I…I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry. We’ll just stop here.”

Ningning grabs your hand. “Wait!” She let go briefly before grabbing your hand again. “I-is there any other services you offer?” You understand what she means. Ningning’s voice grew smaller as she went on. “I mean, I see in videos that sometimes masseurs offer special services. Is that an option here?” You were about to reply when Ningning placed your hand on her breast. I can pay you. I-my body just feels really good when you touch it.”

You had to admit that Ningning was a beautiful woman that you’d be lucky to have sex with, and you considered your options. You look at the clock on the wall; half an hour has passed. Knowing your friend, he’d likely be going for seconds right about now and want to take his time getting back. “Alright.” Ningning gives you a soft smile and lets go of your hand. You place it over her slit, the briefs she was wearing keeping your away. Still, it was enough to make her groan. Like the bra provided, the briefs were meant to keep customers more comfortable. Ningning stares at you with lustful eyes as she squirms on the table.  You snake your hand under the briefs and drench your fingers in her nectar as you slide your hands along her slit. Feeling your fingers touch her sends Ningning over the edge; you watch her toes curls and eyes shut as she cums at that moment. “I’m sorry. It’s my first time,” She mumbles.

“I…figured.” You reply as you begin pulling down the briefs. Ningning covered her face, her shyness taking over. You turn her body towards you before dropping your pants. Ningning’s eyes become glued to your growing bulge. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“It just looks so big.” Her comment makes you chuckle. You pull down your underwear, revealing your cock to the young woman. She reaches toward it without uttering a word; you feel her soft hand wrap around the tip. “It’s so warm…”

“So you’ve used toys?”

“...yes,” She says shamefully. 

“It’s natural, Ningning. No need to be ashamed, but let’s see how the real thing compares.” You tell her as you take a step forward and rub the tip of your cock against her slit. Ningning whimpers and stares at your cock as it runs along her cunt. You lean in, kissing her neck softly as you push your head against her cunt. She wraps her arms around you, holding you closely as she begins to fill the room with her moans. You feel her walls squeezing your cock as you push inside of her. 

“Ahh, hold on,” Ningning moans, her hands gripping your shirt. You stop moving, giving her time to adjust. You pepper her with kisses as you wait, softly squeezing her body. “You can move now.”

You push more of your cock into Ningning, watching her expression carefully. You see her shut her eyes and moan as you bury yourself inside her. Her walls are tightly wrapped around your cock, rubbing against the head. You begin thrusting slowly, holding onto her hips to keep her in place. Each thrust brings out more moans from Ningning.

The small woman holds you tightly, wrapping her legs around you as you thrust deeply into her. You could feel Ningning’s walls tighten around your cock, as she neared another climax. “I’m cumming again,” She whimpered. “I’m going to cum.”

You speed up your thrusts, making her cry out from pleasure. You feel her thighs squeeze your sides as she cums. You continue thrusting into Ningning, making her let out a high-pitched whine. Each one was driving her crazy as you overstimulate her. You force your tongue into her mouth as her eyes roll into the back of her head. 

Ningning’s arms lose strength. Falling onto her back, Ningning lets out weak moans. You revel in the feeling of her walls clamping down on your cock. When you feel your orgasm coming, you begin to slow down. You pull out entirely and turn Ningning onto her stomach. You press your cock against her cunt, holding onto her waist with one hand. You ram the length of your cock back inside the petite woman, slipping in with ease. As you drive your cock in and out of Ningning, you watch her ass bounce as it slaps against your body. “You’re so tight, Ningning. I’m getting pretty close to cumming.”

“Cum…” Ningning mumbles as her head bobs with every thrust. You feel yourself getting closer. Your hands dig into Ningning’s flesh. 

“Where do you want it?” You ask as you ram your cock deep into her cunt. Ningning doesn’t respond to the question, only repeating the word cum. You make the quick decision to pull out, knowing it would only cause trouble if she got pregnant. You pull out at the last moment, painting her back as you spurt cum onto her. Ningning feels the warm cum hit her back, groaning as her mind slowly returns to her. 

You check the clock; your friend should be back in a few minutes. You grab a few towels and wipe the cum off Ningning's back. “Your manager is going to be coming back soon. You better get changed.” 

“Manager?” Ningning slowly blinks as she realizes. He’ll be coming back soon. She struggles to stand up, and you’re forced to help her get into the changing room while you clean up. You wait by the entrance for her manager to show up, and soon enough, he appears. 

“I’m back.” He says with a burp. “Where’s Ningning?”

“You really didn’t hold back on eating, did ya? Did you get me anything?”

“Uh, no, sorry.” Ningning steps out of the changing room looking like she did when she first stepped foot inside, the only difference being her slightly frazzled hair. “Oh, there you are.”

“Sorry for the wait. I struggled with the heels.” 

“That’s okay. Let’s get you back to the dorms. Thanks for dealing with her.” Ningning nods her head and follows her manager out the door, picking up a business card before giving you a wink and leaving.

[blogport]

EPOXYSHİNE - DRAGON+ (3)

Epoxy floor coating is not just a practical choice for enhancing the durability of your flooring; it's also a stylish solution that can transform any space. Whether you're a homeowner looking to revamp your garage or a business owner seeking reliable commercial flooring solutions, understanding the benefits of epoxy will help you make informed decisions. As you search for "floor polishing near me," consider how an expertly applied epoxy coating can elevate your interiors while providing a long-lasting finish. 

Epoxy Floor Coating

Epoxy floor coating is a highly durable and resilient flooring solution that has gained popularity in both residential and commercial spaces. This type of coating is made from a combination of resin and hardener, creating a strong bond when applied to existing concrete surfaces. The result is a seamless surface that can withstand heavy foot traffic, chemicals, and abrasions.

One of the major benefits of epoxy floor coating is its versatility. It can be customized in various colors and finishes, including high-gloss and matte textures. This means that property owners can choose a look that complements their interior design while still providing the durability they require. Additionally, the smooth finish of epoxy makes it easy to clean and maintain, which is particularly advantageous in commercial settings.

Furthermore, the installation process for epoxy floor coating is relatively quick, often completed within a few days. However, it’s essential to hire professionals who have the expertise and equipment to ensure a flawless application. The right team will properly prepare the surface, allowing for optimal adhesion and longevity of the coating.

Floor Polishing Near Me

When searching for floor polishing near me, it's essential to find a service that not only meets your expectations but also understands the unique needs of your flooring. Professional floor polishing can revitalize old surfaces, restoring their shine and luster while protecting them from future wear and tear.

Many local companies offer specialized services in floor polishing that cater to various materials, including hardwood, tile, and concrete. A quick search in your area will yield numerous options, allowing you to compare prices, services, and customer reviews to find the best fit for your needs.

Additionally, hiring professionals for floor polishing ensures that the job is done correctly and efficiently. They use advanced equipment and high-quality products that not only enhance the appearance of your floors but also extend their lifespan. So, don't hesitate to reac

Commercial Flooring Solutions

Commercial flooring solutions are essential for businesses seeking to enhance their aesthetic appeal while also ensuring durability and functionality. The choice of flooring can greatly influence the overall atmosphere of a commercial space, leading to improved employee morale and customer satisfaction.

Among the various options available, epoxy floor coatings stand out due to their seamless finish and resistance to heavy foot traffic. These coatings not only provide a sleek look but also protect the underlying surface from wear and tear, making them ideal for warehouses, retail spaces, and industrial environments.

Moreover, businesses often explore additional options such as vinyl flooring, carpet tiles, and laminate surfaces to meet specific needs. Each of these materials offers unique advantages, allowing business owners to choose the most suitable flooring solution that aligns with their operational demands and aesthetic preferences.

Metallic Epoxy Floor

A metallic epoxy floor offers a stunning visual appeal that enhances the aesthetic of any space. The reflective properties of the metallic pigments create a unique look, resulting in a three-dimensional effect that can mimic a variety of surfaces, such as water, marble, or even molten metal. This type of flooring is especially popular in modern homes, showrooms, and commercial spaces, providing an eye-catching yet durable surface.

One of the significant advantages of a metallic epoxy floor is its durability. This flooring solution is resistant to stains, chemicals, and impacts, making it ideal for high-traffic areas. Additionally, it is easy to clean and maintain, which means that business owners and homeowners can save time and resources. The seamless nature of epoxy flooring also contributes to a hygienic environment, especially in spaces like hospitals or laboratories.

Installing a metallic epoxy floor can be a customized process, allowing property owners to choose their preferred colors and patterns. Whether you’re looking for a sleek, industrial look or a vibrant, artistic finish, this flooring solution can be tailored to meet your unique vision. By consulting with professionals, you can ensure that your metallic epoxy floor is installed correctly and maximizes its longevity and beauty.

[catcze]

LISTEN TO ME— ALTHETE WRIO AND CHEERLEADER READE— *Gets ko’d*

IM SO SAT IM SO LISTENING OH MY GODDHAKSDNAJSN

「 CWS : 」 No pronouns used, and afaik i kept it gender ambiguous! Didn't mention what sport Wrio plays bc i know jack shit about any and all sports lmao

Athlete boyfriend Wriothesley who picks you up and spins you around whenever he wins a game, lifting you by the waist no matter how tired his muscles are, because you're laughing and giggling and telling him, drop me already! It's embarrassing! but you just fit so perfectly in his hold that he can't help but spin you around and hug you to his chest for a little bit more.

Athlete boyfriend Wriothesley who always sings songs of praise to you when you walk out of the venue together.

"I won because of you," he'd grin, nudging your side with an elbow, and you snort, smacking his arm.

"You won because you train hard and you're good at what you do," you always argue back. Wriothesley just shakes his head, draping an arm across your shoulders.

"That helped, yeah, but seeing you cheering for me gave me that extra little push I needed."

Athlete boyfriend Wriothesley who drives the two of you to the location of his games, and will always carry your stuff for you, along with his own things. One hand is for his own bag, with his equipment and a spare set of clothes, and the other is for your bag and your pom poms— custom-made to be black and red, to match his own colors. The others on the cheer team always coo and wave and aww when they see your boyfriend drop you and your things off with them. And if he gives you a little peck on the cheek? They won't let you live it down for the rest of the week.

Athlete boyfriend Wriothesley who comes and watches your cheer practice whenever he has free time! He'll stand on the sidelines and cheers whenever you manage to perform a flip or a trick especially well. He gains a super big respect for cheerleaders whenever he sees you practice and perform. The routines you guys perform are super risky, but you somehow manage to make it look flawless and effortless. He always brings you your water whenever you take a quick break, and never fails to let you know how cool you look.

[yanderecrazysie]

Flower Shop AU - Yandere! Iwaizumi

Prompt: Flower Shop AU for @tropetember

Pairings: Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, I don’t know much about flower language

The tall, dark-haired man in the corner looks out of place here. His serious expression doesn’t seem to match the beautiful assortment of brightly-colored flowers that surrounds him. Iwaizumi Hajime is not typically drawn to delicate or decorative things. He much prefers the gym and fits in much better there, if he’s to be honest.

The first time he entered this flower shop, he was just buying a bouquet of flowers for his mother’s birthday. An innocent, kind gesture. It should have stopped there.

Instead, he has been back every day since.

Any flower you recommend to him, he’ll buy without a second thought. The moment you approach him asking “Can I help you, sir?” an awkward smile will cross his face, almost as though he’s not used to smiling. Really, he’d do anything you asked of him.

After all, he had fallen in love with you at first sight.

“Can you put together something special?” Iwaizumi asks, “I have a special occasion coming up.”

“Ooh, what kind of occasion?” you ask cheerfully.

“A date,” he replies, “Do you have anything that means something like ‘I’m serious’?”

You look excited, “I don’t know about ‘I’m serious’, but if this is a first date, carnations mean ‘new love’, and I could add some tulips- ‘perfect love’!”

Iwaizumi melts at the attention, his eyes looking down at you with pure affection. He watches you cheerfully put together a flawless bouquet.

“You’re very talented,” he says as you hand the arrangement to him, “They’re beautiful, just like-” he catches himself, “Just like the last batch.”

“Hope the date goes well,” you say, waving goodbye as the man leaves your shop, before turning to the next customer.

—--------------------------------------

You don’t remember how you got here.

The last thing you remember, you were walking home, then… nothing. And now you were here, tied up tight to a chair in someone’s apartment kitchen. At first, you find no familiarities in the marble countertops and wooden table, but then you spot it.

You know where you are before Iwaizumi even enters the room.

You’d recognize those carnations and tulips anywhere.

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: Pantalone Spoiling His S/O

Pantalone, being the wealthiest of the Harbingers, spares no expense when it comes to his S/O. He loves seeing them draped in the finest clothing, accessories, and materials from all across Teyvat. Whether it’s an exclusive Mondstadt perfume or rare jewelry from Liyue, he makes sure his S/O has the best of everything.

He doesn’t just buy expensive clothing off the rack. Pantalone hires the best tailors to design custom outfits that perfectly fit his S/O's tastes and appearance. He’s incredibly detail-oriented, ensuring that every piece of fabric, every gem, and every stitch is flawless.

From surprise gifts of luxurious items to extravagant gestures, Pantalone is always thinking of new ways to spoil his S/O. One day, it’s an elaborate silk gown, the next, a beautifully crafted weapon. He loves the look of surprise and delight on their face when they open his carefully selected gifts.

Pantalone takes his S/O on luxurious, private getaways to the most beautiful and exclusive locations in Teyvat. Whether it's a private island off the coast of Inazuma or a secluded villa in Liyue, he makes sure they can enjoy time together without any interruptions. The trips are filled with candlelit dinners, scenic views, and decadent experiences.

He knows every high-end restaurant and chef across the lands, and he’s always treating his S/O to the best cuisine Teyvat has to offer. When they dine out, he always ensures they get the finest table with a view and the best service. If his S/O prefers to dine at home, he’ll arrange for private chefs to come in and prepare gourmet meals tailored to their favorite tastes.

Pantalone is a connoisseur of precious gems and metals, so naturally, he spoils his S/O with rare and exquisite jewelry. Whether it's a sapphire necklace from Snezhnaya or a rare diamond bracelet from Fontaine, he makes sure his S/O shines wherever they go.

Pantalone ensures that their home is nothing short of palatial. He spares no expense in decorating the home with lavish furniture, rare antiques, and fine art. Everything is designed for comfort and beauty, giving his S/O a place to relax and indulge in the life of luxury.

Pantalone knows the importance of relaxation, and he loves to spoil his S/O with spa days. Whether it’s in an exclusive bathhouse or a private spa in their home, he ensures they are pampered with massages, baths, and all the treatments they could want. He'll even join them for a relaxing day, ensuring they feel completely at ease.

Pantalone will sometimes send his S/O out with their own personal shopper, ensuring they have access to the latest fashion, trends, and accessories. He enjoys seeing them embrace their own style, and often arranges to have new pieces custom-made to suit their preferences.

While he loves to lavish his S/O with the finest things, Pantalone is also attentive to their emotional needs. If they express interest in a book or a trinket from a local shop, he’ll make sure they have it—whether it’s an expensive item or a simple keepsake. It’s these thoughtful gestures that show how much he truly listens and cares.

Despite his generosity, Pantalone doesn’t give gifts to flaunt his wealth. He has a subtle elegance about how he spoils his S/O, always ensuring that the attention is on them and how much they deserve to be treated well. He enjoys their happiness more than anything else.

Beyond the material wealth, Pantalone ensures his S/O feels secure in the relationship. His loyalty and devotion are unwavering, and he’ll do anything to keep them safe and content, using his influence and power to protect them from any threats.

Pantalone spoils his S/O not just because he can, but because he truly believes they deserve the best. His lavish gestures are just one way he shows his affection, and he delights in making his S/O feel cherished in every way.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[homelanderbutbig]

A Sweet Weird, Kinda Like You (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1080 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You sneak into The Seven's meeting room for early morning smooches.

It's an early morning at the Vought Tower, and the employees are just starting to pour in.

Deciding to take advantage of the early hours, you ride the elevator up to the 99th floor to visit Homelander. You don't have to start your shift for 15 minutes, and you know he would appreciate seeing you before you have to slave away at your desk job.

The Seven's meeting room is quite a sight to behold, with the table and chairs built taller to accommodate Homelander's height, so he doesn't have to feel like an adult sitting at the kid's table. His chair was also made custom just for him, which he is grateful for as no one else can reach that high to sit on his 'throne'.

As expected, you find Homelander alone, arms behind his back while he stands by the windows to survey the city. Although he doesn't turn around to acknowledge you as you walk up to him, you're pretty sure there's a smile on his face right now.

"Morning big guy," you say, leaning up against his leg. At long last you look up at him, getting to see him beaming down at you and showing off his pretty canines.

"You're here early," he chuckles softly, lowering one of his large hands to your shoulder. He uses his long fingers to stroke your shoulder while his thumb splays across your back.

"I wanted to see my favourite supe before I started work," you remark, tilting your head into his hip.

"Oh? I'm your favourite am I?" he taunts cheekily, giving your shoulder a playful squeeze. You can't uphold your unimpressed frown for long as your expression causes him to laugh, and you giggle along with him.

Homelander bends down to lift you up to his chest, rubbing his nose against yours. His big eyes sparkle like two flawless sapphires, completely taken in by the sight of you. With his face so close to yours, you can feel the slightest quivering of his lips and you know what he is waiting for permission for. Even though he takes what he wants from everyone else, he would never dare to do that to you.

When you finally give him a nod he kisses you, doing his best not to let your love consume him lest he not be able to listen for approaching footsteps. However, he finds himself getting lost in your adoration, especially feeling one of your hands caressing his cheek. He strains himself trying not to keen too loudly into your mouth, appreciative that you aren't using your wicked fingers to scratch along his undercut.

Carefully, he walks backwards to sit down into his oversized chair, keeping you seated in his lap. He can't help but treasure how your body fits so perfectly on his thighs, like you were meant to be there. During the kiss he moves his hands to your hips, loving how impeccably his palms conform to them.

After breaking from your kiss, Homelander belatedly notices the little brown bag you've been holding onto this entire time. He decides not to use his X-ray vision to look at what's inside, but he can't help but notice the sickeningly sweet smell emanating from within.

"What… is that?" he asks, furrowing his brow at your questionable breakfast.

"I got a couple cake pops from Jitter Bean before I came into work," you explain, cracking up at his confused expression.

"I bought one for you and one for me," you tell him, pulling them out of the bag. He feels accosted looking at these little dough balls on lollipop sticks, coated in pink chocolate and dusted with rainbow sprinkles.

"It's good, trust me. Just try it," you proclaim, holding one out for him. He glares at you like you've told him you shot JFK, just utterly dumbfounded at what you're requesting of him. You, a mere human, are asking… nay, ordering the world's greatest superhero to eat something so childish? But his faux outrage doesn't scare you, and you simply wiggle one of the cake pops in front of his mouth.

With a heavy exhale and a hard swallow, Homelander succumbs to your fiendish demands. Painstakingly, he takes the cake pop in between his teeth, chewing it hesitantly like he's unsure if you're really just trying to poison him. You eat your cake pop as you watch him go through this assault to his taste buds, snickering at his overly dramatic theatrics.

"Well? What do you think?" you inquire as he finishes his diabolical breakfast.

"It's… weird," he utters, his face scrunched up like he just ate a whole lemon.

"A good weird?" you ponder, seeing his lips twitch from your question as he shoots you a sly smirk.

"It's a sweet weird … kinda like you," he chuckles, leaning back close for another kiss. The sugary taste of the cake pops mingles in with both of your lips. As much as he would rather never eat one of those death balls again, the fact that you thought of him when you bought two is enough to set his heart aflame. More than anything, he wishes this precious morning would never end.

Suddenly, Homelander lets out a deep sigh from his nose. He hears movement closing in on the meeting room. Unfortunately, your time is up.

"My team's on their way," he grumbles, rolling his eyes. "Five minutes late, as usual. Like they don't think I notice."

"I should get going too," you note. "I have to start my shift."

"Promise you'll stop by the penthouse later?" he asks, unable to hide his subtle concern. Even though you never would, he can never fully mask that voice in his head that makes him worry you won't want to see him anymore.

"Of course I will. Try and stop me," you declare, giving him one last kiss. A relieved smile spreads across his face; the disaster has been averted. You always know just what to say to calm his anxieties.

He lets you down off his lap and you quickly shuffle out of the meeting room, giving Homelander a wave goodbye before heading off for the elevator.

Standing back up, he returns to his position solemnly gazing out the windows.

Homelander holds onto the faint taste of cake pop on his lips, the little reminder of how you like to include him in your basic human rituals. The little reminder of how you make him human too.

[stayconnecteed]

❪⠀🪐. cappuccino⠀𓏔⠀lee know⠀❫

☆ customer!lee know x afab!reader ( i wanna be yours oneshots )⠀★⠀8.1k words

( i am extremely sorry for the delay of this one shot ♡ )

synopsys: after a bad run you are forced to look for a second job, and you end up covering the first shift at the campus café. every morning you find the same guy waiting for you to open, leaning on the wall, looking flawless, and it gets on your nerves. until one day you see him leaving the dance academy where you teach, getting on the same bus as you. warnings: in this one she's the barista, guys. a part from that, we have mentions of reader not having enough money, lee know with his misterious aura but being a literal sunshine, also he's insecure :(( unusual hopeless romantic minho too, he's a softie (and whipped) reader's insecure too 😔 mentions of overworking and skipping meals. minho saves the day!! let me know if i missed something.

If life as a college student was hard, life as a broke college student in a country completely different from your own was pure hell. You had never let it get to you when you said your dream was to make it as a choreographer in Seoul and everyone laughed in your face, so you certainly weren't going to let anything stand in your way now that you had gotten a chance at Seoul's famous arts university, JYPU. The plane ride had been a challenge, because you kept wondering if you were really doing the right thing, but when you landed and saw you had messages of encouragement from your sister and the few friends you had left in your hometown, their words had filled you with determination.

A couple of years had passed since that moment, and perhaps the circumstances were still not the best, but you were still determined to achieve everything you set your mind to. The language barrier had not been a big problem, because you had learned some Korean while you were in high school, but it had only helped you to find that tiny room you were living in and get hired at the dance studio a couple of blocks away from the faculty. You were earning enough to pay for food, rent, and the materials you needed for class. But when understanding your classmates became a little more complicated, when the language used in the lectures became more technical, you had to pay a personal teacher to help you improve your Korean. And since you didn't have enough money, you were forced to fit a second job into your busy schedule, getting a little bit of extra money to live slightly more comfortably.

A friend of a friend from the Music Production department had recommended you to the owner of the most famous café on campus, and after hearing your story, he had hired you right away. This Chris guy had been very nice, and had taken an interest in your schedule to find the shifts that suited you best, even waiting for you after one of your classes to have lunch with you and talk about everything in peace and quiet. You had never met a boss so concerned about his employees, and he made it much easier to have to get up before dawn to be the one to open the café, because he always left you some candy hidden in your apron pockets or a note encouraging you to start the day with a smile.

However, the first time you had covered the morning shift, the 5.30 am shift, there was a guy waiting at the door. You had arrived, exhausted as you were every day, the laptop and your college books weighing like heavy bricks in the backpack on your shoulders, along with the sports clothes you wore for the afternoon classes. Chris had told you to be there at the normal time and he would show up to explain some of the details and give you the keys. After all, it was your first day. But instead there was a tall, slim guy leaning against the metal grille, his slightly long bangs covering his eyes, though that didn't stop him from scrolling lazily on his phone, headphones hanging around his neck, and looking flawlessly put together. Certainly not how someone should look on any given day at 5:30 in the morning.

You flashed a shy smile as you reached his level and he lifted his head to find out who you were, his sharp cat-like eyes sparkling from the reflection of the light on his phone screen, and you grabbed your own in a hurry to send a message to the cafe owner.

You 5.32am Hi, Chris I already arrived, where are you?

Chris 5.32am Hi, sorry Still in the subway Like... 2 minutes away

You 5.33am Yeah, no worries It's just There's this guy...

Chris 5.34am OMG wait Dark aura, looks like a cat and gave you a dirty look when you showed up?

You 5.35am Yeah, quite accurate

Chris 5.35am Oh, that's Minho Don't mind him, he's inoffensive Most of the time He's there for his morning coffee

You 5.36am Okay, then See you!!

Chris 5.36am 👍🏼

And then he showed up, out of breath, in a hurry, around the street corner, phone still in his hand, unblocked. You smiled unconsciously, trying to ignore Minho's gaze weighing on you while Chris approached, flashing his dimples as he stopped in front of you to catch his breath, breathing some kind of greeting that you responded to with a nod. He pulled out a dinosaur-shaped keychain, a very adorable doodle version, and bent down to unlock the metal grille, pull it up ーgiving a little jump to get it all the way upー and unlatch the lock on the door. Minho hadn't bothered to greet him, you guessed it was a common thing between them, and he didn't look up from his phone screen either, a bored gesture plastered on his face. You followed Chris as he entered the café, leaving your backpack on the counter, and standing awkardly in the middle as he went to switch on the electrical panel.

"Get his coffee ready while I finish up in here," he instructed you, stepping into what you thought was the kitchen, "I'll be right out to help you."

You nodded, grabbing the apron from the rack that already had your name on it, and stood behind the counter, Minho having rested his forearms on the surface, again with the phone in his hands. If he was reading some article or playing some online game it must have been interesting, because except for the few furtive glances he had given you, his eyes had been glued to the screen the whole time. Clearing your throat, making just enough noise to get his attention, you flashed your best customer service smile, "What'll you have?"

"Cappuccino" he mumbled, sitting up and stretching absently, "grande, to go".

You made a small affirmative noise, turning on the coffee machine, and picked up the cup in the size he had asked for, with its respective lid.

"Chris, where's the milk?" you asked, walking into the kitchen, stifling a laugh when you caught him wrestling with the flour, staining his dark blue t-shirt white.

"'Storage room'" he muttered, his ears taking on a reddish hue, "If there isn't any under the counter, Jisung must have forgotten to restock it last night."

You hurried into the kitchen supply room, after grabbing a scoop of coffee powder and put it in the machine to make some espresso, and came out with two packs of milk, setting them down on the floor to place them as soon as Minho left, but grabbing one of the bottles to make the steamed milk and creamer.

It wasn't your first time working as a barista, and not in the hostelry industry either, so really the only thing you had to get used to was the café distribution. Luckily, Chris seemed like a pretty neat guy, so you didn't think it was going to be much of a problem. You set about pouring the milk into the necessary containers to heat it to your liking and get the effect you were looking for, as the coffee dripped into the cup you were using to measure the amount, the chestnut-colored liquid falling, first in drops and then in a small stream of caffeine, flooding the white porcelain.

You mixed it on the counter, in front of Minho, so he could see how you did it, although you hadn't seen him look up from his phone at any moment. Actually, he had been watching you. He always did 一observing his surroundings, that is一, but with you his eyes flashed with curiosity. Chris was known for rescuing stray souls in need of a job, a quality through which he had met most of his friends, and he wanted to find out why a girl like you would have caught his eye, or would need extra money. Usually JYP University students had wealthy parents, and if that wasn't the case, they had at least gotten a temporary job that allowed them to live comfortably. But you had arrived, with your worn converse and patched hoodie, your backpack full of safety pins and big dark shadows under your eyes, screaming to anyone who could see that you didn't quite belong there.

He had wanted to take care of you. It had crossed his mind for an instant to give you a friendly smile, to introduce himself, to ask you about you; he had felt the need to approach you and engage you in a conversation that would allow him to get to know you better. Because as soon as he laid his eyes on you, he knew that despite being two strangers, you were going to be the one who, only with the sweetness of your voice and the kindness of your gaze, would break through all that was and what was remaining of him once you left him, would turn his unleashed fire into a warm hearth. But he wasn't good with words, and you had rushed to grab your phone to busy yourself, watching his chance fade before he could even realize it. It had bothered him how comfortable you seemed to feel with Chris, even though he knew his friend had that effect on people, and how you'd smiled when you'd seen him show up, like he was saving you from someone 一from him.

But at the same time, he had struggled not to curl his lips as he realized how strange you felt in the situation you were in, standing at the entrance of the café, as if waiting for instructions. It wasn't that you were a contradiction, but that you caused him too many dilemmas. Like having to repress that electricity that ran through him the only time you looked into his eyes, when you looked up to check how much his coffee cost and he already had the money in his hand. He had tried not to brush his hand against yours, dropping the coins onto your palm at full speed and picking up his cup, leaving the place, with you still on his mind. He couldn't concentrate in class that day.

Unfortunately, you had no other choice but to focus. The scholarship you had been given depended on your grades, thanks to which you had obtained a place at the university. If you dropped below your grade point average, they would take it away from you, and that was something you couldn't allow. But some thoughts had slipped in your mind about the boy you had met that morning, remembering the shape of his eyes, sharp and rounded at the same time, and his slender figure. You had allowed yourself to smile at the memory of him, even as you hurried to stuff your backpack and boots into the locker at the academy where you worked, your jeans exchanged for a leotard and the most comfortable sweats you had, always arriving a couple of minutes earlier than required so you could get ready.

But even if you wanted to stop thinking about him you couldn't, because soon what you had considered an isolated event became a habit that every day was harder to break. The next morning, after barely five hours of sleep, you got up again, crawling as best you could to the outside of your cramped room, your body trying to feed on the freshness that the shower had left on your skin, your heavy backpack digging into your shoulders. And when you managed to reach the café, the keys tightly clutched in your fist, he was there, again, his long figure leaning against the grille, again, and his gaze fixed on his phone, again.

When he heard you, your stifled pants revealing your presence, he sought your eyes, separating himself from the wall so that you could open. You bent down, sitting back on your heels, to undo the lock on the grille, and accompanied it with your hand as you stood up again, mimicking the hop you'd seen Chris take the day before to get it all the way up. Unfortunately, it only got halfway up, and you felt your cheeks redden with embarrassment, fearing that Minho had seen it. Still you pretended nothing had happened, trying to straighten your shoulders under the weight of the backpack, unlocked the door, leaving it open behind you, and stepped inside.

You repeated the steps that Chris had indicated to you the previous morning, going directly to the electric panel to turn on the power, and then you entered the kitchen, crossing it until you reached the room reserved for the staff, leaving your backpack on one of the chairs, and taking the apron that had your name on it before leaving. You hung it around your neck as you undid your steps, and by the time you got behind the counter Minho was already pinning his catlike gaze on you.

"Grande cappuccino to go?" you asked, your fingers tapping on the surface like a piano in a nervous gesture that Minho found adorable.

He merely nodded, averting his gaze to his phone screen, as if he had somewhere more important or urgent to be and was checking the time to make sure he had enough minutes left to get there. It was a somewhat pretentious gesture on his part, without stopping to think whether it would make you feel better or worse, but he couldn't help it. He was torn between absorbing every detail you could offer him, and trying to delay the moment when you would reject him, when his feelings would be too obvious to be denied. And even if he had mentally chosen the second option, he let his gaze follow you as he performed a graceful dance with the sole purpose of making his coffee.

He had noticed a difference from when Chris made it to when you had made it. Minho didn't know if it was your expert hand or some ingredient you had used to make it, but it tasted slightly sweeter. And since he had tasted it he hadn't been able to stop thinking about what your lips would taste like, if he got to kiss them someday. Minho kept telling himself that it was a silly crush, that the butterflies he felt in his stomach when you handed him his glass were the effect of hunger, of thirst, of any excuse he could think of but the ghost of the feel of your skin on his. Or maybe you were a witch, and had used his cappuccino as a love potion.

However, it didn't matter anymore. If you had wanted to have him trapped in your web, he wasn't going to be the one crying out for help to be rescued. Not when he felt his heart falling off a cliff every time you looked at him, adrenaline racing his pulse, not knowing for sure when it would stop. At least until he handed you the money, turned around and walked out of the café, the bite of the cold winter air bringing him back to reality, leaving behind the pleasant warmth of the place, and also of your smile, which he could still feel in the palm of his hand thanks to the coffee you had made for him.

And meanwhile you watched him walk away, the coins still in your hand, until there was no trace of him left. Then you sighed, coming out of that strange daydream in which you were interacting ーif you could call what you were doing thatー and put the money away, leaving the apron on the counter and taking a chair. Your problem wasn't being short, it was not knowing how to jump high, you decided, as you leaned the chair against the street and looked up, more than willing to climb the grille to the same height Chris had left it the day before.

To your surprise, it was in place, even though you knew perfectly well that you had left it halfway up only five minutes earlier. You shrugged your shoulders and went back inside, leaving your chair in place and hurriedly putting on a black shirt before tying on your apron and starting your day.

The next morning, you went to work with your heart in a fist, expecting to see him leaning against the grille, letting out a small sigh of relief when you saw that he was. You hid the smile that struggled to appear on your lips, and frowned as you looked at him, refusing to let the mere presence of a stranger affect your mood that way.

This time, Minho greeted you with a quick glance and a small nod, a display that made you blush, hiding your reddish cheeks from him as you bent down to lift the grille. You figured that this routine between the two of you would be repeated quite often, since you weren't planning to quit your job and he was going to need his coffee every morning, so you decided to put all your effort into maintaining a cordial relationship with him.

You soon realized that he was the type of person who also got up early on weekends, since you still had to cover your shift and he was still at his usual 5:30 am spot. You had no idea what he was studying ーor even if his major that was the reason he was getting up so early. And it wasn't like you were going to ask Chris either, you didn't know him well enough to figure out if he would tell Minho or not.

In fact, he kept making stupid excuses for why he had to go to your unofficial morning appointments. He told himself you wouldn't have anyone to climb the grille for you. What if the lock on the door got stuck and you couldn't get in? His coffee addiction had nothing to do with it, although he would probably develop one just from drinking so much cappuccino, and if he didn't feel like getting up one day, just the thought of knowing that he would be able to see you before going to class made him wake up instantly.

And somehow he ended up going on the weekends as well. The first Saturday just to see if you were also working those mornings, stuttering his order when he saw that you had already opened and he hadn't been there, but after taking the first sip from his cup he had to sit for a long time on one of the benches in the nearest park, feeling sick at the fixation he had developed with you.

Could he consider it a crush when he tried to look for you with his eyes every time he leaned to wait for you, pretending to use his phone? When he walked through the corridors of his college and thought he recognized your beautiful hair in the crowd, only to end up being a random girl? When his heart stopped for a few moments as soon as he entered the café that morning just because he heard you laugh? 

That Sunday he was on the verge of not going. But every minute that passed and it got closer to the time to open the café, his anxiety increased, so he dressed in the first shorts he could find and a shirt he had lying on his bed and decided to go for a run. He wasn't a big fan of doing sports, but he liked the feeling that flooded his body once he finished, exhausted, knowing that it had been worth it. He had jogged towards 5STAR, towards you, ready to drink his morning coffee.

Until that moment the only thing that kept him from murdering anyone who bothered him as soon as he woke up had been the caffeine shot, but he had lately been smiling only thanks to you for a week, and it was much healthier that caffeine. That Sunday you had looked at him, surprise on your face, probably because he had changed his normal outfit for a slightly more revealing one, and you had had to clear your throat before asking if he would have a cappuccino. He had smiled shyly and asked for a pastry to go with his coffee, since he wasn't willing to go running on an empty stomach, and had waited as long as it took while you put the first batch of croissants in the oven.

He had pretended not to notice, too, when you stole glances at him from the kitchen, blushing when he couldn't help himself anymore and made eye contact with you. After all those days he still wondered why you kept asking him if his order was still a cappuccino, when his answer had always been yes, but he would never dare to find out, because hearing your sweet voice was a hell of a lot better than all the alarms on his phone. What he didn't know was that you adored the look on his face, his lips curving slightly and nodding adorably, and that you weren't willing to give that up either.

The mornings went on, each and every one of them with the same repressed interaction, and the same warm feeling in your chest as you said goodbye to each other until the next day, neither of you making the first move. You had grown accustomed to his presence, almost inherent in your morning routine, and he had learned to soften his attitude in front of you, but never without exchanging more than three words in a row.

The first time you said something different, a few weeks later, was when you mustered the courage you needed to thank him for raising the grille for you every morning. At first he had done it slyly, taking advantage of you coming into the kitchen to make a little jump and push it up. Then he hadn't cared if you saw it or not, realizing that if he wanted you to notice him he would have to be a little more obvious. And now he was doing it without any kind of embarrassment, waiting for you to pull it up more or less to your height to take the leap, in front of you.

"Thanks for helping me with the grille" you had whispered, pouring the milk into the glass, while the coffee was being made behind your back.

He had made a nonchalant gesture, as if it wasn't that important, or if he had done it for anyone, and he had seen you smile, embarrassed, but his ears had turned red.

That same day, taking advantage of meeting up at Han's apartment with the group of friends, he followed Chris into the kitchen when he offered to go get more beers and tried to ask some sly question about you. Chris was no fool, evidently, but he let Minho get the information he wanted. It was most adorable to see his gaze light up at the mere mention of your name, or how he drank in the words Chris whispered hurriedly about you, fearful that any of the others would walk unannounced into the kitchen and interrupt them.

You, on the other hand, had begun one of the most difficult periods of the term: when your exams were combined with the recitals of the girls you were teaching, limiting your time even more and drowning you in due dates, subjects to study and two jobs you couldn't afford to loose. You couldn't complain about how lucky you had been to find jobs that matched your preferences, but you did say, without hesitation, that the one at the café was much better than the one at the dance academy. Not only in something as obvious as the salary, but the conditions were nicer with Chris as the boss than with that man who had assumed that because you were a woman and beautiful you would surely be better at teaching ballet and dealing with the little girls.

That was what you had confessed to Han, since his shift was the one after yours, while you took advantage of the brief ten minutes he managed to save for you, arriving earlier than he should have, and you spent by having a coffee. He had nodded, giving you to understand that he was listening to you, while he stored all that information to be able to communicate it later to Minho. All the co-workers you had dealt with had been very nice to you, but Han was your favorite. He compensated for your introversion with witty and funny comments on his part, which made you burst out laughing and the mood relaxed. He always paid attention to everything you said - even if he had hidden intentions to do so - and you had several hobbies in common.

Besides, he was the only one who would talk to you about Minho without having to ask, and even if you pretended to be disinterested, he could see the way you nodded at his words, and your lips tried to avoid curling up at the silly anecdotes in which you were utterly oblivious to this different version of the gentle Minho who said good morning to you. He would brighten up your breakfasts, at least until you realized what time it was and rushed off to avoid missing your morning classes.

Because the classes were also demanding enough. It may not have been as difficult as a science degree, but the exams on music history and dance, along with all the physical sessions and dances you had to prepare for the end of the semester not only tired you mentally, but you would arrive home at night totally exhausted, with just enough energy to take a shower and go to bed. You would also skip a meal or two due to lack of time, resulting in quick snacking whenever you had a second. More than once your belly had growled in the morning, in front of Minho, and you had formulated a quick apology, without even turning around, too embarrassed.

They weren't the best conditions for a healthy life, even less if you were a teenager trying to survive, but it was the only - and best - thing you had. At least you had your mornings at 5STAR, with the opportunity to see Minho every day without fail, and the hours at the academy with your girls, who were immensely fond of you. Seeing their excited faces when you proposed to change the typical play based on the Nutcracker or Swan Lake for an invented version with all the Disney princesses made the two nights you had spent almost without sleep planning the story and the choreography worthwhile. That way everyone would have a starring role, and not just the one who got the main role, which was something you had missed in your childhood, so you were happy too.

One morning, however, when Minho came to your not-date, the café was already open. It wasn't that the fact itself was strange ーyou had sometimes arrived early because you hadn't been able to sleepー but that the grille was all the way up, and you always left it halfway up no matter what time you arrived. When he entered, the door bell ringing behind him, the one who came out to greet him was Changbin, another of his friends, who flashed a mischievous grin at his confused face.

"Looking for your girl?"

"YN is not my girl" he protested, slipping his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

"Ah, but you took it for granted I was talking about her" the boy replied, winking at him, starting to make his coffee.

Minho missed your sleepy voice as you murmured good morning to him, and the graceful way you moved behind the counter, in and out of the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients and utensils you needed to prepare his breakfast, which although varied in pastries, always consisted of a cappuccino. He pulled out his wallet, preparing the coins he always counted out before handing you over, and the movement caught Changbin's attention.

"So you're not going to ask?" he said, rephrasing, still with his back turned.

"You seem to be eager to tell me," he replied, rolling his eyes, "so go ahead."

"Oh, you're no fun" Changbin complained, his face contracting into an adorable pout.

"I didn't mean to be" Minho said, cracking a sarcastic smile.

"You know what, I'm sure you wouldn't have responded to her like that" he muttered, pouring the milk into the cup. "Anyways, I'm sure Han will text you as soon as he finds out, but Chan hyung convinced her to ask for a couple of days off."

"Chan hyung?" Minho couldn't help but frown, not understanding.

"Apparently, YN has been pushing herself more all month" Changbin explained, picking up a cup-sized cap, finishing his friend's order, "and you know how Chan hyung is when he sees someone overworking."

"He gets all protective" summed up the dancer, paying for the drink.

"Exactly" he stated, crossing his arms once Minho had his coffee in his hand, "and she must have been having a really hard time. I guess Chan hyung asked her about her schedule to find out which days would be better for her to rest, and yesterday he asked me if I could cover her shift."

And it had been that way. Just the day Chan had decided to stop by to see how you were doing, he had found you passed out on the kitchen floor. You had made him promise not to tell anyone, and he had sworn to keep his lips sealed, only if you let him make sure you were okay. He had woken up one of the other employees, and then had taken you to his house. You had been somewhat shocked by the seriousness with which he had taken it all, but you had let him do it, rambling about everything you had to do and how little time you had, while he prepared a very nutritious breakfast for you.

"You should quit that job at the academy" he had advised you, his gaze fixed on the chicken frying in the pan.

"I can't" you had protested, whining, "there's less than a week until the Christmas performance. I couldn't let the girls down like that."

"Are you willing to quit after that, though?"

"If I find a better job," you had supposed, shrugging, trying to avoid yawning.

"What if I offer you a double shift at a higher salary?" he had proposed, filling the plates with food and setting them in front of you, reaching for a clean set of chopsticks, "I can even switch you to the afternoon, so you'll get more sleep."

"That's very kind of you, Chris," you had murmured, "but I don't know if it would be a good idea. Or legal, at this rate. You're already paying me more than my fair share."

"You could find a roommate, then" he had continued, not giving up, "I know a guy who..."

"Thank you, really," you had tried again, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at his effusiveness, "but I'd rather sort it out myself."

Chan had looked down, blushing as he realized he had gone too far anyway, and had apologized, leaving you to eat in peace. You couldn't thank him enough for how much it had meant to you that he had accepted you into his house and fed you, but he had more surprises up his sleeve. He had told you that he was going to give you two days off, and also that he knew someone in your class who could get you the notes of what you would be taking that week in the main subjects, so that you could spend the next few days resting. Before saying goodbye, you had given him a big hug, almost crying, and you had returned to your little room, more than ready to faint from exhaustion.

But Minho didn't know that. For him it was the first time you had been absent, and the first notice that you were really that unwell. Not that he hadn't noticed the dark circles under your eyes, but you had always looked so cheerful in front of him in the mornings, with that bright smile that lit up the café when you saw him, that he hadn't realized the real gravity of the situation. And he blamed himself for it, for his lack of attention to detail, for having been so absorbed in his feelings that he hadn't realized your own reality.

That's why the next day he didn't go: it didn't make sense, since he knew you weren't going to be there. And in any case, he wasn't in the mood to get up so early. He didn't go to class either, his mind too absent-minded to attend to three straight hours of long, monotonous explanations. But he didn't miss his daily appointment at the dance academy, one of the few places where he could let himself go, it's physical exertion and music taking him away from all the buzz he had in his head. He would go to practice the dances he had to present in his subjects, but also to memorize choreographies he found on the internet or create his own from scratch.

The mere fact of putting the bottle of water and the change of clothes in his sports bag for later made a slight curve form on his lips, wishing that the subway would move at the speed of light so he could arrive as soon as possible, and nodding as a greeting to one of the owners of the place, who was always sitting at the reception desk, heading straight to the studio he had booked.

That evening Yewon was not in her usual place, but running back and forth, somewhat stressed, having exchanged her usual low heels for ballet slippers.

"Hello, Minho!" she greeted him, waving some papers with a hurried gesture. "You have studio C10, as usual, but I will have to change it tomorrow!"

"What's all the fuss about?" he asked, securing the strap of his bag over his shoulder in a nervous gesture.

"Two of our teachers couldn't make it today, and it was unexpected," she explained, not bothering to use the comfortable office chair to type something quick on the computer. "Jisoo took maternity leave after a little scare with the baby, to be at home and rest. But Jinyoung has finally quit."

"The one who wanted to set up his own academy?"

"That same one," she replied, trying to stifle a complicit laugh. "I'm covering his ballet classes, but I'm short of someone to take over Jisoo's hip hop classes. You wouldn't be willing to volunteer, would you?"

"With kids?" Minho tried not to let his panicked face show too much.

"Yes, but only today," she replied, letting out a melodic laugh. "You can wipe off that scary face, don't worry. My sister is in Jeju, sorting out some family issues, and she'll be back tomorrow. She'll take care of it until Jisoo and her baby are healthy and the happy mom can continue working."

"Huh" he knew he couldn't refuse, not when Yewon had always been so nice to him, even if he was late on one of the months' payments, always greeting him with a smile. But children made him panic. Those little humans who judged you without a filter, always bursting his eardrums with the screams they made, and so wild that they deliberately ignored any orders they received. He realized it sounded like he was describing real demons, but in his experience, it was totally justified. "Right."

Yewon clapped her hands in excitement and led him to one of the studios reserved for afternoon classes. They always put the children in the larger rooms, so they could run around freely. And if you were able to teach ballet for whole afternoons to children, surely it couldn't be too bad for him. After all, he was pretty good at hip hop, and he had a couple of easy choreographies he could teach.

Luckily, the group was small ーfour boys and three girlsー more than willing to learn, half of them with dreams of becoming idols, and all of them with wide eyes watching him dance for the first time. It wasn't the first time people had complimented him, but the fact that eight-year-olds were looking at him with such admiration made him die of embarrassment, and also made it seem much more real than any empty words they could ever give him.

When the time came to an end, he had gotten as much exercise as any other day, had laughed a lot more, and had not been alone, like the vast majority of his afternoons, though unfortunately he had not found a solution to your problem. Yewon left the ballet studio, sweating but smiling, waving goodbye to his students, thanking him again and again after Minho high-fived all his children. It was only after a quick shower that he knew what he should do.

The break had been wonderful for you. You had dedicated yourself to sleeping and eating, without worrying about anything but going to your ballet classes on time, and you were afraid that getting used to it would be easier than breathing. You kept telling yourself that what you were experiencing was a temporary hiatus for a couple of days, something Chris had managed to do but it wouldn't last forever, and that you should be grateful. Although you should also try to figure out what was going to be your life after that, because going on as you were was not an option.

But you were tired of looking for a job and the options getting worse. If the pay was perfect, the schedule was bad for you. If it fit with your classes, it wasn't worth it because it was too far away or the salary wasn't enough. You were definitely going to keep the job at the café, but you also wanted to keep the job at the academy. You were totally lost. Maybe you could stay the same for a couple of months, asking for fewer hours and saving a little more at home. Cut back on showers to the academy bathroom, and try to ration your meals. It could work.

After the established time had passed, you came back. And you were looking forward to it. You got up energized, grabbing a couple of pieces of fruit while you packed your stuff in your backpack, and even noticed it less heavy on the way to the café. When you arrived, you didn't see Minho in his usual place, but since it wasn't the first time either you shrugged your shoulders and opened the grille, leaving it halfway and going in, following the routine that by now, you knew by heart. You busied yourself with the trays of croissants and brownies that some co-worker called Felix was leaving ready on his shift for the next day, waiting for Minho to arrive. You had the milk ready, the coffee powder already in the machine. All you needed was for him to show up to press the button and serve it to him.

Only he didn't show up.

It was the sound of the grille going up that made your heart race, and you left the staff room totally hopeful. But although you expected to see the young man with the mischievous smile and gentle gaze, you found a guy you didn't know at all, looking lost, and a little nervous tic in his hand. You took a big breath of air, forcing a smile, and stood behind the counter.

"Good morning," you murmured. "What will you have?"

"Oh, hi" he said to you, trying to avoid your glance. "I didn't know if it was open yet...".

"Yeah, yeah" you affirmed, the shy curve of your lips reassuring the boy, "don't worry. I usually have a friend of mine come over to help me with the grille, but he's not here yet."

"Then I was right to put it up, wasn't I?" he asked, his fingers still drumming on the surface of the counter.

"Yes, of course," you confirmed, your hands fiddling with the edge of the apron, trying not to let your disappointment at the boy's presence show too much, "thank you. What will you have?"

"A macchiato, please."

Similar to a cappuccino, you thought, unable to get Minho out of your mind. You didn't know why his absence was affecting you so much. You didn't even have that much of a relationship. Outside of your greetings, and small conversations here and there, you didn't interact much else. Even if after all this time you felt you had known him all your life, even if seeing him in the mornings made your day, even if you wished you could spend your whole life mixing espresso with milk if it meant Minho smiled the way he did.

Your shift took forever, each coffee making lasting longer than necessary, and perhaps too short, customers coming and going and none of them being who you expected. You understood that the shock must have been the same for him ーin case his feelings for you were remotely similarー on the days you had been absent, and you feared that he had grown tired. That so many shared mornings would have been for nothing, and yours would have been a relationship by proximity. It wasn't the first time you had maintained such a friendship with people, because you were forced to go to the same place together every day, and not because there was actually any bond.

Maybe he thought you were not coming back, and had decided to look for coffee somewhere else. Maybe you had misinterpreted everything you had experienced, and had taken cordiality for friendship. Maybe nothing of what you felt was reciprocated, and again you had been daydreaming.

Despite all your efforts, you couldn't concentrate on your classes that day. You took the lunch break you had promised Chris, pulling out of your backpack a container of a small salad you had made yourself in the morning and a piece of brownie Han had slipped in when he thought you weren't looking. After retiring to the library for a couple of hours to study you went to the academy, ready to go over the dance with your girls.

You wore your leotard under your jeans, so, as usual, you only had to put on your sweatpants and ballet slippers, locking yourself in the studio half an hour early to dance by yourself for a while, and at five o'clock, letting it fill up with energetic and joyful girls, ready to become their favorite Disney princess for a few hours. You always had a great time, and in your heart it made up for everything it meant in your private life.

After the shower, as you were coming out of the changing room with your hair still slightly damp but back in your normal clothes, your backpack slung over your shoulder, walking down the hallway towards the lobby, you stopped when you heard Minho's voice. You couldn't make out what he was saying, but you could hear the angry voice of your boss, and you peeked your head around the corner, trying to see without being seen, in time to see your boss hit the table lightly and Minho frown in an annoyed gesture, turning around.

You hurried out, ignoring the exclamations of your boss calling you, and followed Minho. He was carrying a cup of coffee that wasn't from 5STAR, and for a moment you feared it was over altogether. That he had found somewhere else to buy his cappuccino. That maybe your friendship had broken down without you realizing it. That it didn't mattered if you thought you didn't care if it never evolved into something more ーsomething you longed forー, you were content with whatever it was that you had. You noticed also the jacket he was wearing, the logo of a dance academy that wasn't yours drawn on his back, and tried to match his long steps to reach his pace.

He was heading in the direction of the bus stop where you usually caught the one that dropped you off near where you lived, and you got on after him, sitting down next to him, still frowning.

"YN?" he mumbled, taking off one of his earbuds so he could talk to you, turning his body slightly to try to face you.

"What were you doing talking to Mr. Kang?"

"Huh?" he asked, as if he hadn't understood anything you had said.

"I've never seen you outside the café before," you told him, propping your backpack between your feet, "and just the day you don't come in the morning I see you in the afternoon at my academy, when you don't even come here."

"Well... It has an explanation" he tried to defend himself, his ears turning red. "Han had said... Ehem, since you didn't come to work these days... I..."

"I was resting" you told him, leaning your back against the backrest, "I had been having some complicated days, and Chris has recommended me to change jobs, but I don't know..."

"I know" he interrupted you, "I know. That's why I was talking to your boss."

"What?"

"He told me that next week is the performance you've been working on for the past few months" he summarized, avoiding looking at you, not feeling ready to find out if he had taken too much of a risk or not. "I wanted him to make your work conditions better, and maybe I told him that the academy I go to they have an opening for a ballet teacher so he should watch out how he treats you. They pay like a normal job, not a part-time one, and the schedule is the same."

"Really?" you stifled a cry of excitement, covering your mouth with your hand, "Oh my God it's perfect! It's literally the miracle I was waiting for! I'm so happy I could..."

"You could...?" he repeated, urging you to finish the sentence.

But you couldn't finish it. You didn't know if you should. It would be crazy, in fact.

"Whatever," you solved, seeking to change the subject, "it doesn't even have to do with dancing."

"And what does it have to do with?"

You cleared your throat, mumbling an answer you knew he couldn't hear, too embarrassed to let it sink in, hoping he had heard it, and also hoping the opposite at the same time.

"With you" you repeated, this time louder, looking into his eyes when he asked you to say it again.

"With me?" he breathed, his heartbeat increasing its speed, roaming his gaze all over your features.

"Yeah" the worst thing it could happen was that he rejected you, and he never came againg to the café. And you already thought that was what had happened, so there was no point in not trying it. "I was going to say that I'm so happy I could kiss you right now".

"Kiss me?" unable to think straight, he was only repeating what you voiced, watching your lips moving and your cheeks slightly blushed.

You flashed a bright smile and caressed his cheekbone, the pad of your finger gentle and soft against his skin, and his breath got caught in his throat, swallowing hard, and confirming your crazy theory of him liking you back. He tried to touch you the same way, his hand twitching with anticipation, but it fell to his lap when you kissed him, his eyes closing down immediately to focus on the way your lips moved over his, lazy, slowly, enjoying every single second.

Minho knew that he had fell first, and harder, and then he had waited patiently for you to reciprocate his feelings. And when you did, you understood that his heart was so full of love and adoration you couldn’t stop yourself to love him in the same deep, absolute and fathomless intensity.

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[my-castles-crumbling]

Warmth- Jegulus holiday fluff!

Hi guys! You voted on a holiday present and this is what you chose! It's hogwarts-age jegulus, AU-no Voldemort, background wolfstar holiday fluff! Enjoy!

Regulus always associated the holidays with the cold.

A cold house. A cold bed. The coldness of his family.

And he was so used to the way his family did things.

It started with planning. So much planning. Making sure everything, every minute detail, was perfect. That the menu was impeccable. The decor, superb. The outfits, tailored and luxurious.

Regulus and Sirius were expected to be flawless representations of their House and ‘Superior Bloodline.’ Put-together and polite; seen, not heard.

The pressure was more than intense.

And the actual party?

So many people. So many high standards.

The chit-chat was suffocating, and Regulus always dreaded it.

There was nothing personal about the holidays. No time for family. Only networking. Putting on a show. Making sure their family was constantly on top.

It was cold.

Regulus spent the entire day feeling lonely.

So, when Regulus first agreed to spend the holidays at the Potters’ he wasn’t sure how to feel. He knew, of course, that the Potters were pureblood. Well-off. They probably had fancy parties, too.

“What shall I pack?” he asked his boyfriend one day while they were studying, close to break, realizing his old dress robes might not fit any more. Did the Potters expect him to wear his custom-made twelve-piece robes, or would some of his more comfortable three-piece outfits suffice?

“Pack?” James asked, looking a bit distracted. He was currently trying to figure out what looked like a botched Potions essay, and Regulus knew he would have to take pity on him and help soon. “I mean, it’s a bit cold. Make sure to pack some extra jumpers.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, endeared by the taller boy’s oliviousness. “I meant for the party.”

“Party?” James asked, looking quite shocked. “We’re going to a party?”

Now his patience was wearing a bit thin. “On Christmas, James. Won’t your family have a party?”

James laughed out loud at that. “I mean, it’ll be my mum, dad, Sirius, Remus, and both of us. Is that what you mean?”

Regulus thought about that. “So…no party?”

“No,” James answered, looking a bit concerned. “Is that alright? I know your family-”

“It’s perfect,” Regulus nodded, quickly pulling James’s mess of an essay toward himself. “This is not.”

-

As soon as the boys arrived in the bright, warm kitchen of the Potter Manor, a woman swept Regulus into a hug so quickly he almost yelped with surprise.

“Regulus. It’s wonderful to meet you,” the woman hugging him said warmly.

“Don’t suffocate him, mum,” James admonished, throwing Regulus a grin as he hugged what could only be his father.

But Regulus, who normally hated being touched, especially by those he didn’t know, found himself melting into the embrace. He realized almost instantly where James got it from- his safe, kind, accepting persona. His warmth.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. and Mr. Potter,” Regulus stammered as Euphemia released him. “Thank you for inviting me to your home.”

“Effie and Monty,” Monty replied easily. “And how could we not? James talks so much about you, you’re practically family already."

James turned bright red at this, and Regulus smirked a bit. Sirius made a gagging noise from behind them.

“As if you don’t talk just as much about Remus,” Effie chided him, pulling him into a hug as well.

“Mum! I’m supposed to be the favorite!” Sirius pouted, making Effie grin.

“I have no favorites. Though if we’re going by number of times I’ve gotten letters of complaint from Minerva McGonagall, then Regulus is currently the favorite,” Effie retorted, making Regulus turn pink.

Even though both Sirius and James protested more about that, it was clear that all the comments were in good fun. They were laughing. Smiling. Enjoying each other’s company.

He’d never experienced family like this before. It was strange. The warmth.

-

Regulus quickly figured out that he liked Potter Manor almost as much as he liked Hogwarts.

He, James, Sirius, and Remus (when he arrived a few days later) spent their days flying, lazing around, going into the Muggle town nearby and exploring. He knew that Monty was a Potioneer, but he was thrilled to find that once he tentatively asked the older man about his work, Monty was eager to show him everything he was working on. He even let Regulus help.

He also found a piano, tucked away in a lonely room on the fourth floor, and spent hours at a time just playing, reveling in being able to just be, while James, Sirius, and Remus caused chaos Merlin-knew-where.

He felt safe. Wanted. This, he realized, was how family was supposed to feel.

-

He’d believed James, of course, when he’d said there wouldn’t be a party. But he was still unsurprised, somehow, when on Christmas morning, he was awoken at dawn by someone shaking him awake. Good thing he packed something presentable.

“Happy Christmas, Reg!” James whispered into his ear.

“Mmmpfh,” Regulus mumbled into his pillow. “Thought you said there wasn’t a party?”

“What? No, I…I have something to show you. Will you come with me?” James asked, looking a bit nervous.

“Alright.”

It was early, and cold. And Regulus was thankful, really, that he’d listened to James and packed multiple jumpers because he pulled two over his head, blearily following the taller boy out of his room.

“Sorry it’s so early. It’s just…I’ve been trying to get you alone for days and I figured if I try before Sirius is awake, I’d have more of a chance,” James grinned a bit sheepishly.

Regulus snorted. Sirius had been quite the nuisance over the past few days. Every time James and Regulus had had two minutes alone, he just appeared. “He’s your best friend, Potter.”

James chuckled, leading Regulus to the front door.

“Outside?” Regulus blanched. He might have two jumpers on, but he wasn’t dressed for the snowstorm currently raging outside.

“Trust me?” James asked, levelling a challenging look at Regulus.

And fuck James Potter, because he knew that the answer to that question was yes.

“Alright,” Regulus murmured, shivering as James rapped his wand sharply on Regulus’s head. A feeling of warmth slowly seeped through Regulus’s very veins, like he’d stepped into a hot shower.

“C’mon,” James said, grabbing his hand and guiding him into the storm.

-

They walked for a few minutes, hand-in-hand, through the raging snow. Even as the storm persisted, however, Regulus could only feel warmth. No wind, no cold. Just the comfortable heat of James’s spell and their intertwined hands.

It was loud, however. And it was hard to see. “James, where the hell-?” Regulus yelled, feeling a bit nervous.

“Not much farther now! It’s just here!” James called to him, dragging him a few more feet before stopping.

Then, James pulled out his wand again and tapped it on seemingly nothing, before pulling Regulus a few more feet forward.

Regulus was thoroughly confused for a moment, until-

Quiet.

They seemed to be in a bubble. Almost a reverse-snow globe. Their little space on the ground, about ten feet in diameter, was quiet. Warm. Free of snow. But outside, the snow still fell and the wind whipped it around.

It was strangely beautiful. Haunting but safe.

“Just here,” James said softly, guiding him to a blanket on the ground.

Shocked, Regulus lay on the blanket, allowing James to pull him close, as they looked up and watched the snowstorm surrounding them.

“James, this is-”

“We used to do this all the time when I was a kid,” James explained, circling his thumb on Regulus's back soothingly. “On Christmas, especially. If it snowed, my dad would come out and set this up. And we’d just sit out here and watch. Be together.”

Regulus moved a bit closer to James, feeling so incredibly content. “This is what your family does on Christmas?”

He felt James shrug next to him. “It’s nice to just…escape sometimes, you know? And I just wanted to be with you.”

Regulus felt tears prickle his eyes as he took that in. It was somehow precious, to be shown this tradition. To be allowed this window into James’s life. To be included and wanted and loved.

And it was so warm, here.

Here, in the snow. Here, in James’s arms.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing James softly.

And he lost himself in the warmth of the kiss.

Hope you guys liked it! Please leave comments and kudos, I need them more than I need a nap (a lot!)

[queenofsquids]

Resinsoul customized shorter lower torso arrived!!! Their mod is flawless. The top edge is exactly like the standard one and I cannot see any mod or cut line. Whatever method they used to make the change, they finished it professionally.

Ok so the proportions! Are fantastic! They cut so exactly right, the bellybutton area is unmarred. They must have done a lot of work reshaping the waist curves too.

The smaller SD girl arms also make a huge difference. I totally forgot they are single jointed, which is a bummer, but Ratleigh has such a long face she can still touch it so 😅

I'm very very happy with this custom work from Resinsoul, and with the hybrid now for Ratleigh. The changes are even quite noticeable when she's wearing clothes over everything. She fits in much much better with my other anthros on Zaoll bodies, which is important to me.

The stark white of brand new Resinsoul resin is always a shock 😅 Like I knew it wouldn't match but it's even starker than I thought even though I've literally done this before and knew it would be drastic lol

It will mellow pretty quickly and match better, within the year I'm guessing.

[fleur-du-soleil-immortel]

Fleur Du Soleil Immortel

In the once-lively kingdom of Soleil, ruled by a caring royal family, a divine curse plunges the land into eternal rot and winter after their goddess loses her immortality. As the rot spreads, devastating the population and causing famines, the kingdom survives through scarce magic and struggles to sustain itself.

You, a child born out of an affair between Duke Forestier and an unknown mother, are abandoned and hidden away in a small cottage on the Forestier property. Treated as a servant by your own family, you endure years of abuse and neglect.

On your 10th birthday, your elder brother appears at your door, welcoming you into the family. However, life within the household proves to be far from welcoming, as you continue to face mistreatment.

Everything changes when the Emperor orders an arranged marriage between your elder sister and the Second Heir. Unexpectedly, your family sends you instead, thrusting you into a dangerous power struggle between two royals. Now, you must navigate the treacherous court, uncover the truth behind your strange healing abilities, and seek answers about your mysterious mother.

As you strive to survive amidst courtly intrigues, you may discover the key to saving the kingdom or become its very downfall. Will you find happiness and bring hope to Soleil, or will the weight of your circumstances consume you?

Features

Genre: Fantasy, Mystery and Romance 

Rating: 18+ For child abuse, blood, sexually explicit scenes, Self Harm, Drinking, Smoking, Suicidal/depressing thoughts and Death. 

Customize your characters gender, sexuality, appearance, personality, interests ect!

Romance one of 6 possible ROs including poly routes or just befriend them!

Learn the secret to your powers, will you use them to help others or get revenge? 

Support the second heir in their fight for the crown or side with their brother! 

Do charity work and make change, including building a school for commoners!

Romance Options 

Anastasius/Anastasia Soleil The Second Heir 

A is 5'8 [5'1 Female] with a thin and frail body, ghostly pale skin that gives them a sickly appearance, even having a blue tinge. They have straight, snow white hair that stops a little above their shoulders[Waist length Female] that frames a heart shaped face, thick white lashes making their pale blue eyes stand out. They often have dark bags underneath them. Their right arm and left leg had been taken by the rot and are replaced with beautifully crafted prosthetics with Intricate designs, though sometimes they prefer their wheelchair. 

A is a cold and cunning person with a sharp tongue. They can be petty and quick to anger. Due to their poor health they have spent most their life confined to their bed chambers with occasional outings, though they are not to be underestimated as they have eyes and ears everywhere. Many who have crossed them are rumored to have disappeared.

William/Wilma Dufort The Knight 

They are 6’2 with a fit and athletic build from intense training as a knight. They have a warm brown skin with little freckles across an oval shaped face, dimples on each cheek. Light brown coils placed in a low messy ponytail. Vibrant green eyes framed by long thick lashes.

W is a kind and easygoing person, loyal to a fault. They are hardworking, dedicated to their job as a knight. They are friendly, often helping others out whenever they can, especially when it comes to A. They can be rather oblivious despite how many find them attractive. 

Calypso Alarie The Mysterious Mage

They are 5'9[5'6 as female] with Lithe yet fit frame, dark flawless brown skin. They have long black locs often placed in a messy bun. Golden eyes framed by thick lashes and a diamond shaped face. They have a beauty mark under their left eye. Their skin has a natural golden glitter to it.

They spend most of their time researching in the library, a true socially awkward bookworm. They get easily flustered when realizing someone is flirting with them. They can easily lose track of time when it comes to their work. They prefer to observe over interacting.

Asher De La Rue The Servant 

They are 5’9[5'4 Female] with a Lithe body and cool beige skin tone. They have messy obsidian black hair that stops a little past their ears, framing their diamond shaped face[Shoulder length Female) and covers their milky white eyes. 

Asher is a playful, flirty and sarcastic person. They never seem to take anything seriously. They are charming and can talk their way out of almost any trouble.

Liliana/Lillian Petit The Free Spirit

They are 5'4 with fair skin, they have a slender body covered in freckles. They have a heart shaped face with big dark brown doe eyes and messy ginger hair.[Long elaborate braid for female and somewhat short as male]

They are a free spirit, often seen entertaining others through song and dance. They are stubborn yet kind, looking at the world with a cup half full outlook. They are adventurous, often finding themselves in trouble.

Raymond/Ramona Destry Crown Princes Lapdog

They are 6'3 with a muscular build, with scarred olive skin. They have obsidian eyes and a black buzzcut, complementing their diamond shaped face. They have a scar going through their right eyebrow. 

R is arragont. They are extremely quick to anger and resort to violence against those they deem to have wronged them. They absolutely hate studying, unable to sit still long, or stay focused, preferring to be outside training or partaking in a battle or tournament. Despite being referred to as stupid, they are a master at handling weapons and formulating battle strategy. They are considered the Dog of the Crown Prince.

[epicsims]

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[slippinninque]

☀️Crusin'🚘

You have a wonderful day

Fontaine x blackfemreader

warnings: Fluff, some cursing, longfic, mentions of drinking/smoking,

The sun blazed but there was no better day to do it, in your opinion.

It was what Dream Wheelz Cruise deserved, after all. When the 'hood came together to show off the rides they've been working on beneath Jack Frosts' nose. It was very much a pageant for the die-hard mechanics and customizers.

The cruise was destined to go through a few cities. A long, beautiful line of creations and well kept machinery that welcomed all appreciation and celebration.

Businesses and storefronts either closed for the day and offered their parking lots as impromptu showrooms or offered their services and wares to the walking auto-fans.

Many walked their way through the cruise as most cars were parked and those interested in rolling on to the next city cruised at a leisurely pace. There was a unspoken rule of respect to mind the careful speed as much of the foot traffic could leak into the street.

You weren't brave enough to partake in that rule, so you minded the helpful cones and barricade stands to keep your direction.

Revving engines, excited people, music blasting--it brought the very concrete to life. The good mood was infectious as strangers laughed with one another in passing, handing out free merchandise of handy work or paint jobs.

There were popup stands and food trucks dappled the area, offering refreshments of all kinds. You smelled the delightful scorch of grills and watched as hand packed ice-cream flew out window. There was something extra in a lot of the coolers and definitely something loud in the air.

Your favorite part was everybody was stepping out in their freshest 'fits and looking to be pictured with some dope cars. This year, you decided to follow suit.

In honor of the beautiful day--you decided to show some skin. White shorts with a matching white and silver the circle-sequin cropped camisole. You braided your locs up into a bun though a few of the shorter ones escaped shortly after.

Armed with your camera--you set off with one mission: To enjoy yourself!

You saw a olive-pearled 1970 Cadillac DeVille Convertible, it's owner an absolute starlet as she leaned against the door to smoke a cigar.

There were twin girls bouncing about their grandpa's sable Chevrolet El Camino while their grandmother threw a few wings onto a small grill a few few away.

An endless flow of flawless metal and hearty characters, so ready to share their special creations. You'd bet there would be an ache in your neck from your constant rubbernecking a you walked.

When a Lotus Esprit rolled past, you nearly lost your shit. It was painted in tribute to Kill Bill with a pair of blazing, blue eyes stenciled artfully on it's left side. You ditched your spot in the slushie line, but the photos you got were more than worth it.

You ran into the elders of your block who decided to come together to see the precession. You sat and chatted, a plate of somehow making it's way onto your lap. The lot of you traded photos and told the others what you've seen. Before departing, you made sure to snap plenty of photos to pass out later.

Your quota for pictures was met two-fold. This year came along with a promise to appear in more photos--not just the background. So, when someone offered to take your photo in front of their wheels after a chat? You accepted.

With the way you winked and twinkled in the light, you could see a few heads turn from the corner of your eye. By lunch time, your face ached faintly from all the smiling you've done and your tote was heavier with goodies on your shoulder.

Walking slowly, going through your camera roll filled you with pure satisfaction. You looked as happy as you felt inside.

Someone called your name and it popped your thought-bubble. Whirling to follow the second call, you grinned at who was coming to meet you.

" 'Taine! I didn't know you'd be here!"

You held a hand above your eyes to see him better. He was wearing grey sweats, a white tank, and then a smile when he caught you staring. Fontaine clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head as you fumbled to change the subject.

"Uhm--I'm goin' to submit again this year." You stammered and grabbed your camera for proof, "I'd love to get a photo of you and your boys to add to my streak!"

" 'Course. 'Moss went off to get some ice for the cooler. C'mon and chill with me for a bit if you ain't doin'."

You brightened and nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything. Fontaine winked at you and gestured for you to follow. Behind his back you let your mouth drop open a bit, marveling at the turn of events.

---------

Fontaine found a great spot, half-shaded by one of the trees lining the miscellaneous lot further away from the heart of the cruise. You spotted Big Moss' '70 Chevy Suburban he only took out on special occasions. It reminded you of the Flintstones sherbet push-pop. It's polished orangesicle finish with light blue detailing was electric in the day light.

Fontaine waited for you to finish snapping your photos of the cars in the lot, walking with you and offering a nod to the drivers who weren't posted at the nearby Coney truck.

"Pretty, pretty girl!" You whistled as you finally saw the Grand Prix. It was polished down. Every bit of it gleamed in the light, Fontaine's care to detail showing all over it.

Fontaine grinned, scratching at his nose a bit bashfully, " 'Preciate you but I can't take all the credit. Junebug helped with the drying and chose the air freshner."

You laughed, just knowing that the kid was tearing up the road somewhere with his two-wheel gang.

He opened the back passenger door for you to sit as he leaned against the Pontiac. You dug into your tote and pulled out your last water bottle, offering to share with him.

"I don't have cooties, just to let you know." you said after he insisted you have your fill first.

He only accepted it when you drank more than half of the bottle,

"All ya'll women got cooties. It's cool, though. Ain't gonna hold it against you or nothin'. "

"First off, ya'll gave them to us!"

You were 52% sure that Fontaine knew that you had a crush on him. Taking into account that half the women in the Glenn had thing for him, you have yourself some grace.

Though...if Fontaine didn't mind being near you, didn't that mean something? If he kept up with your previous photo submissions, wouldn't that be more than nothing? It felt different than friends but not quite more. Like you were a page apart from each other.

Being like this was enough for you, though. Having easy conversation with a flirty center, it was more than good enough. The cherry on top is when Fontaine allowed you to snap a photo of him posed in the front of the Pontiac.

"Oh, you real with it." Fontaine said when he saw you kneel, taking your time focusing the lens.

" 'Preciate you." you repeated back absently, catching his smile with a flick of a shutter.

"Can I go next?"

You startled and turned to see a group of ladies. From the looks of it, someone was having a birthday if the matching air-brushed shirts was any indication. The one who spoke wasn't the one who was wearing the crown, though. Which seemed to be an immediate problem.

You looked to Fontaine to see him begin to speak, but the party group erupted into who was going to go first and what was appropriate 'birthday behavior'.

Standing back up and watching them for a moment, you couldn't help but to feel for the birthday girl. Then you felt worse for what seemed to be the only sober friend of the quartet.

You were prepared to suggest a group photo when you felt a touch to your elbow.

"C'mere, 'Bit. Lemme see something real quick."

Before you could respond, Fontaine led you away from the curb and placed you neatly onto the hood of his car. The metal was pleasantly warm under your thighs. Before he pulled away, you grabbed his wrist nearest.

"What about your paint, my shirt have the-the things!"

Fontaine pinched your chin and pulled your camera loose to aim at you. The sight shocked you into compliance as you appreciated how good Fontaine looked behind a camera.

"Gimmie somethin'." He said to you, ignoring the dying argument behind him. A few walkers saw you posted and the bickering women before they waited off to the side admiring the Grand Prix.

You fought the urge to clam up. Keeping it simple with a grin and peace sign wasn't enough for Fontaine, who sucked his teeth loudly.

"Girl, I know that ain't all you got!"

"Well excuse me for not wantin' to scratch up anythin'..."

"All you gotta do is keep looking good," Fontaine threw a high-brow look at you before ducking back behind the camera, "Keep that little attitude on yo' face. S'cute as hell."

As if the sun wasn't enough in it's beaming down on you, Fontaine's words sent you into a whole different level on the Scoville scale.

Failing to catch it in time, your giggle spilled through your fingers. Fontaine hummed and the shutter sounded rapid fire.

Those who lingered tutted and clucked but he paid them no mind. He focused only on you. As if it were only you and his car, as if there was nothing else worth note in the sea of classics and supers.

Those eyes made it easier to breathe. To relax against the hood in a lazy recline. Fontaine made a noise, took a step back and another flurry of shutters.

For the next while, you played model as Fontaine played photographer. He took shot after shot, you leaned up against the Pontiac with vintage flair, hips tilted with a flirty wink.

Sitting pretty with your hands folded neatly in our lap, on your best first Lady Obama Picture Day realness. You forgot who you were with for a moment when you knelt down next to the rims, arched and popped.

"I like that one." Fontaine announced immediately. A man, somewhere behind you, agreed. Fontaine's face flattened as he glared into the crowd as you laughed.

You were then helped to your feet, the crowd dispersed to be visit the other Old-Schools and Supes. You couldn't find it in you to be apologetic for hogging 'Taine a little.

You both poured over the photos and when you realized that you only two 2 photos of Fontaine while he took a dozen of you. When you pointed it out, he shrugged.

"Shiet, you tryna tell me the block ain't gonna know this me?" he was all low-toned, "The car, I mean."

"Well, with me being all over it--might be a mistake of...circumstance." You spanned your fingers on the warm hood.

Fontaine took a step closer to put the camera's band back over your neck.

"They goin' know what it is, 'Bit. I'm gonna make sure."

Looking up at Fontaine as he slid his eyes from your brows to your thighs, that sweet heat returned and you. You knew you weren't talking about cars or the cruise anymore.

Looking away to clear your throat, you could see Fontaine's head tilt as he tried to keep your gaze.

"Um, those food trucks aren't so busy now," you shrugged a bit, "You wanna grab a bite?"

Now it was his turn to lean against the hood, his edges fuzzed by the sunlight.

"Was actually shootin' to take you somewhere nicer"

You made a surprised noise, "Oh! Were you now?"

"Hm. Planned on asking you to ride with me. Was gonna take you to that Caribbean spot everyone been talkin' about in the next county."

"Pretty full proof, I would say! You got the entertainment and food handled. Where are we in the plan exactly?"

Fontaine's expression was fond at your teasing as he pretending to think over your question earnestly.

"Not too far, 'suppose. I did think I would have you sitting in my front seat by now, gorgeous."

Those eyes caressed you as best they could, matching with Fontaine's obvious interest. This made you tongue tied and hot cheeked again.

"And Big Moss?"

"I'm sure he'll find that ice."

When you looked over your shoulder to the closed door of the Grand Prix, Fontaine moved past you to open the passenger door. You brushed a hand over his as you got into the car.

What a wonderful time. You think you finally understood the cat who got the cream, that absolute content from getting what you want.

"You gonna hook your phone up?" Fontaine asked as he started the Grand Prix. He revved it once, twice just to see your estatic grin.

You took the aux cord when it was offered and snugged back into the seat as Fontaine pulled the car out of the lot. The Grand Prix was welcomed into the sea of precious metal, another ripple in summer's wave.

"I have the perfect song to start..."

--------------

ending notes: Siiigh to ride off into the sunset with this dude 😌And yeeees, you put on D'Angelo's Crusing Thank you so much for reading and being patient with me! 💕💜✨I hope you're all having a wonderful, sunny summer!☀️✨💜

taglist:@megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93 @sageispunk@hunnishive@notapradagurl7@mcondance@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina@educatorsareslutstoo@miyuhpapayuh@mogul93 @kindofaintrovert@blowmymbackout @mcondance @kindofanenigma

[mugenloopdalove]

The Devil you Know (and Desperately Wish You Didn't)

Word count: 1405

Summary: The Corner Curios shop was known just as much for its high quality goods and supreme customer service as it was for its rumors. And one rumor-the tales told of a seeing a devil lurking in the shop at night-is far too true, much to the owner's frustratiom.

Notes: This is set in my au where Reya, the woman that Theil used to work for before she turned them away after they confessed their love, is tadpoled, while Theil becomes a more powerful sorcerer and eventually opens a shop in Baldur's Gate. Raphael really wants this bitch's soul bc of their power, so he lurks in their shop and bothers them regularly lol

There was never truly a “quiet” moment in the Corner Curios shop. Brimming with raw unfiltered magic, the legends that the shop itself was alive were more believable every night. Even into the latest hours, when the city was silent and still, it seemed like the shop was still as lively as it was during the day, if not moreso. Rumors had spread all across Baldur’s Gate of seeing a book fly across to another shelf, or a broom moving on its own. Those more skilled in magic claimed you could see how the weave enveloped every inch of the shop. And with the strange, unspeakably powerful sorcerer behind the shop, any one of these rumors could be true.

Even dealings with devils.

There were days where the shop lights stayed on into the strangest hours, but the doors remained magically locked...

“...And it seems that the words creeping in the city’s deepest shadows, the daggers that shoot through the tongues of the snakes and urchins of the alleyways... is that our little legend has made some dealings with the devil on nights just like tonight, when their innocent establishment is shrouded in the secrets of midnight. I’m sure any devil worthy of their soul is rather dashing, wouldn’t you, Theil?”

Leaning against the doorframe of the storage closet, staring down the loiterer with an irritated grin, was the fabled shopkeep seemingly on everyone’s tongue. The tiefling’s face and general mannerisms were as well known as their outstanding customer service and endless selection, but few saw the true face behind Corner Curios.

“Well then, Raphael, my most loyal loiterer,” they replied with a sneer. “Surely you know one.” They stepped towards the table set in the corner of the shop and sat across from the devil, the tension between the two all but visible in their surroundings. The two held a firm gaze, the unspoken challenge handed out. The game had begun.

The silence is broken with the tiniest thunk as a rather large book was sent hurtling right at the back of Raphael’s head, making Theil break out into a fit of childish laughter that seemed to shake the entire store.

“I see your sense of humor is as refined as ever, dear old shopkeep,” Raphael said dryly, picking up the book to examine it. “Ah, The Beginner’s Guide to the Arts. Don’t you think this is a rather childish simplification of things for someone as studied as The Sorcerer Who Would Become A Bard?” There was a heaviness to the title, one that led the tiefling to flick a small flame in his face as he laughed mockingly.

“That was a working title after a month of no sleep.” Theil hissed, cringing over the dumb joke they made after too much wine and not enough rest. “And it’s still better than any of your little ‘contracts,’ dear devil on my shoulder.” They got up to reach for a bottle of wine left on the counter with two golden glasses, as if prepared for the occasion. Too prepared.

The devil’s in the details.

“The daring shopkeep tried all to make the devil they knew all too well into but a distant memory, a speck on their otherwise undoubtedly flawless reputation free of any crime or harm, but their methods, as sad and as simple as the person behind them, are-”

“So are you going to drink the wine? Because if you’re going to keep going like this I might need both glasses.” Theil’s face remained stone cold, in no way humoring the theatrics that had already far outstayed their welcome.

“Do you truly think you can trick me into-”

“Do you think I’d waste vintage wine gifted to me by the friend of my enemy on trying to kill a fly that found his way through the window?” Theil bit back, huffing and taking a purposefully dramatic sip from their glass.

“Ah yes, that wizard you’ve cozied up to. Quite the choice.” Raphael paused before taking a drink of the wine, then stopped to look at it. “Right, it would be beneath you to sully this with poison. Your tastes are finer than that.” He leaned over the table a bit, grinning at Theil with a spark in his eye. “Still... quite the sordid tragedy you’re setting up for a love lost, isn’t it? I knew you weren’t beneath petty underhandedness, but you’ve set up a whole show for me to enjoy, haven’t you dear?”

“It would have been nice to know sooner that you knew the players, Raphael,” Theil looked out at the shop absentmindedly, reflecting on the “heroes” that had found themself tied up with the greatest villain they had known. Everyone wrapped around Reya as if she weren’t the most miserable, selfish, cretin of a person anyone could know. Theil knew full well she was using them all just as she had used Theil in the past. But they were going to get their revenge, one way or another.

As they gazed away, the bothersome devil laughed, as if amused by their frustration. “Now now, I’m not just another pawn you can set, my meddlesome friend. You know as well as I do that even information comes with a price.” A grin spread across Raphael’s face, his more devilish features starting to show as he leaned in even closer to the unamused sorcerer. “So what do you say? Be a good pawn and-”

Theil erupted into a fit of laughter, one so strong that the shop shook hard enough to knock a few books on the other end of the room. They laughed for only a second before their expression returned to the scowl that was ready to chase the devil himself out with a broom. “Your sales pitch is still as appealing as hag water, devil,” they cut back, rising from their seat and sauntering toward the man in front of them. As they moved, the books on the ground magically found their way back in perfect order on the shelf. “I don’t need your help to set the stage, and I’m still making pretty good use of my soul.” They leaned in close to him, smirking as their faces were just about touching, focusing a bit of energy just to remind him of just how much their soul was worth. Of just how much raw magic they held that made it worth so much. The game couldn’t end now, afterall. The winner wouldn’t be crowned today, or tomorrow, or ever. That was the fun of it.

Raphael, for once, was silent, until Theil pulled away with a victorious smirk. “Checkmate, old friend.” Theil said, secure in their victory for this round. “NIce try though, you almost won there. Maybe next time?” They hummed as they walked away, looking through some scrolls to seem busy. “Now, I’ll have to see you off. The show is about to start, and I doubt you can afford the front row seats.”

“I’m almost hurt. If you start having visitors, you won’t need me to warm your lonely nights anymore.” Raphael tried to wrap an arm around Theil, but found himself instantly shoved back by a gust of wind.

“That’s enough, don't you think? Or does the great devil Raphael not have other appointments?” Theil taunted, their temper finally reaching its limit. They tried to hide from it, but in a way they knew it was true- The Devil they knew all too well was the closest thing they had to genuine company, and likely the closest they would ever have.

“I do have far better things to do than humor your childish games any longer. Good luck with the show though, break a leg out there.” The friendly, familiar tone made Theil ready to attack again, but something stopped them. They almost felt empty, and a strange pain was building in their chest, making them almost feel sick.

“You’re wasting time now, devil,’ they said, voice ice cold. “Just get a move on before someone sees you,”

“Very well, I’ll leave you to your miserable farce.” Raphael took a step with a superior grin. “And, Theil darling? Checkmate.”

Before the tiefling could fight back, Raphael was gone, and Corner Curios was silent again.

The shop was still.

The stage was set.

Theil took a breath, letting the negative feelings melt away, and smirk at the knock on their door.

“Let the show begin.”