#i like how i highlighted these two couples with the gifs

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Your Wedding (Fluff)

Children Series

Bayverse!Donatello x reader

A/N: It’s time to add another one. I don’t know how common it is to get married at the town/city hall in other countries, but here it’s pretty common. It’s the cheaper option, and is often chosen by those that want to get married, but not in any religion. Some days you can sit outside of Copenhagen town hall, and just watch one couple go in after the other. That was actually how my cousin and her husband got married, and my father and my stepmother. Anyway, here you go💜

Warnings: None💜

You and Donnie were the third of the turtles and their partners to get married. Having just witnessed Leo and his girlfriend become husband and wife and welcome their first child, and Raph and his girlfriend prepare for the birth of their first child, all while Mikey and his girlfriend got married, hoping soon to have a child of their own, you and Donnie decided to get married before you got pregnant.

Donnie didn’t propose to you like his brothers had proposed to to their partners. Instead the two of you spoke about it, as you laid in bed, cuddling one evening, telling each other just what you were thinking, and how badly both of you wanted to be able to call each other husband and wife. None of you felt like you could do what Raph and his girlfriend was doing at that point, and simply just call yourself husband and wife. No, you actually wanted to get married. It didn’t have to be big. It didn’t have to involve much. You just wanted something, so that you felt legitimately married.

The wedding itself was a very mild and calm affair. With Donnie holding a key to the city, the city hall pulled a few strings, allowing you and Donnie to get married in a room away from the other couples that was supposed to get married at the town hall. Just like any quick wedding at the town hall, it was very small and low effort. You hadn’t even bothered getting a white dress, deciding just to go with one in your favorite color and a few flowers. You only had very few witnesses for your wedding - Splinter and your own parents.

You and Donnie had decided to focus all your effort and attention on the celebration after the wedding itself, as you, Donnie, Splinter and your parents went to the lair together, were the rest of yours and Donnie’s families and friends were waiting for you with drinks and dinner. It wasn’t until you and Donnie entered the lair, that people stood ready, throwing rice at the two of you.

You and Donnie saw the dinner as the true celebration, and the true highlight of your wedding. It was a lot of fun with all the other wedding traditions you usually would hear about - the two of you cutting cake out together (in this cake a smaller cake Mikey and his wife had made for you), and a small dance floor for those who felt like celebrating with dance (who in this case mainly was baby Romeo, who refused to let Leo and his wife pick him up). But truly, it was just as fun and memorable as you and Donnie had wanted it to be.

[wangmiao]

OK...i finally decided to make this long overdue post because i just realized that yang lei finished filming his latest drama 太平年 a couple of days ago...and it means that HE CAN FINALLY FOCUS ON THE THREE BODY SPINOFF AND SEASON 2 NOW!!!!!!

to be honest, even though he was directing other shows in 2024, all people cared about was three body. and no matter what the occasion, he'd be asked about how it was going for all the three body projects. he even wore a three body t-shirt to an interview for another show himself lol (screencap below), and of course they talked about three body...

anyways, the interview above happened in june 2024, but since i was very discouraged by the lack of interest back then, i didn't share this (sorry😅!). now that we have some new fans in the fandom asking about the spinoff, i just want to assure everyone that they will definitely let the shiwang ship sail.

what he said in the screencap: i want the continuation of the story between wang miao and shi qiang. so it will show a lot of wang miao and shi qiang, like season 1 of three body, the two of them solving the case together. their relationship...relationship story.

I highlighted "情感" in yellow in the screencap because the direct translation of this word is emotion or feeling. but for the sake of making it sound good in english, i picked "relationship", but you know the story is about their emotions/feelings towards each other. i can't believe yang lei even repeated the word twice. he was either trying to emphasize it, or he wanted to find a less intimate word, but failed🤣. you had no idea how much this shook the shiwang fandom with joy back then.

lastly back to the serious non-shipping stuff. yang lei said in june and then in october last year that liu cixin would consult on the script for the spinoff. it would fill in the gap between the first and second book, and explain some things that were not extensively explained in the novel, for example, why escapism is not allowed.

as of late october, they were still working on the script for the spinoff, and yang lei was in contact with both yu hewei and zhang luyi to get feedback from them as well. the three body fandom used to think yang lei's other drama wouldn't wrap up until march or april, but now that it finished shooting a lot earlier, we are really getting closer and closer to the filming date of the spinoff. yhw is going to get that shi qiang haircut, and zly needs to grow out the miaomiao hair bangs...life is good🥳!

we still don't know when the shooting of season 2 will start, but it really makes sense if they directly go for season 2 after shooting the spinoff. so let's hope that will happen.

[celesterayel]

the it couple | luke castellan

request: I’m not really sure what qualifies as a request but could you write a Luke x reader where they are like the camp it couple? 🫶🫶

summary: common knowledge is how irrevocably in love luke castellan is with you.

"you know i adore you, i'm crazier for you than i was at sixteen lost in a film scene" - t.s.

w.c. : 702

warning(s) : none

pairing : luke castellan x reader

the campers of camp half blood don't quite remember how or when it had happened. It just always was: you and Luke Castellan, that is. where you went, he followed. the shadow to your guide and you the balm to his sorrow. annabeth used to whisper to the younger children–the ones who had been taken to camp far too young and therefore had little knowledge of love–that you and Luke Castellan were soulmates: seamlessly bound to one another. 

you yourself had never believed in fate despite the fact that you had met them–old bitter hags. you preferred to believe that life was not set in stone, unbreaking and withered to a timeline. it perhaps led to your brash attitude and ‘ride or die’ mentality but your mannerisms only made luke castellan fall in love with you all the more. some things were just beyond the gods' control. you and luke were one of those things.

you had first arrived at camp a decade ago, where you were then claimed by hades. of course news of you spread like wildfire: you were gorgeous, your talent with your bo staff was unmatched, and your father was one of the three–strong power ran through your blood and you showed it everyday during training. but that wasn’t exactly what caught the attention of everyone, rather the fact that the popular gaze of a certain brown-eyed boy always strayed to you. when you laughed, he smiled. where you went, he strayed. you were magnet and he was never far away.

you both tipped toed around one another, constantly drifting toward the other. playful banter slipped between you two and those around you wondered when you would finally just get together. the first time you guys finally breached the delicate line between more than ‘obviously pining friends’ was after an exciting rivalry game.

despite the strategic planning of annabeth–who clearly eyed the tension between the two of you–and the excellent swordsmanship, house ares had won the game because of you. You had been the one to distract luke castellan after clarisse had forced you to use your charms. it was fun to see the cute blush adorn his cheeks when you approached the head of the Hermes House.

“so, does this mean you agree to go out with me?” he breathed out, hands twirling his sword as he was once again bested by you in capturing the flag.

you laughed out, “i was just waiting for you to ask, castellan.”

no sooner after you had begun dating did the infamy of you two reach an all high around camp. how could it not? 

you two were the all anyone could talk about–the best of the best.

luke castellan was already the best swordsman at camp; a prodigy in the making. his brown curls and dimples only made him more popular among the girls and young teens. he was one of the highest placed leaders around camp; one of the few that clarisse actually respected and the one that annabeth regarded most. 

you were a gem in the rough: bold and brash at times, but calculating and quick-witted. you were the one to turn to when those around camp felt alone, always ready to take care of others and offer words of wisdom. you were a living definition of rules being broken and your power only highlighted the height of your placement around camp. 

when you two walked by, the eyes of the others strayed. newcomers learned of your names before they learned what exactly camp half blood was. 

when you threw your head back and laughed, people watched as Luke curled his lips in pride at being the one behind your laughter. when he sat round the fire and sang songs with the campers, you sat right beside him; head laying on his shoulder and hoping the moment would never end. he willingly allowed himself to lose camp games if only by your hand, time and time again.

yes, you were the it couple of camp half blood but none of that mattered, when he was the one for you.

[totalswag]

hi i love your writings!!!

may i request something angst with y/n and drew pls? like maybe they broke up but still love each other and they haven't told their families about it. so one day they have to meet again at Liliana's birthday party and they have to pretends? but it's getting angst when the party ended and they have to separate again

i still love you ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note firstly, thank you lovie! you don’t know how much that means to me. i’ve written angst before but not a lot. this one is gonna hurt so grab tissues if needed.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary attending a birthday party with your ex as a couple after you broken up without telling anyone in your circle.

warning(s) breakups, angst, crying, and feelings for each other.

Drew and you ended your relationship four weeks ago. Never thought your relationship with him would end so suddenly. You have been an absolute reck since. Both of you still love each other deeply.

Family and friends don’t know about the break up—they’d be devastated hearing the news. Just thinking about it gets you overwhelmed with emotion. Drew and you have had small conversations about it but can't pull through yet.

Tonight is Liliana’s second birthday, everyone in Drew’s family will be there celebrating at his younger sisters home. Drew and you were invited prior to the breakup—you’ll be attending as a "couple."

This is gonna hurt you both.

“Okay we act like a couple then we part our separate ways, yeah?” Drew says with a hint of sadness in his voice, enough for only you to hear.

Pulling the front string of your hair behind your ear, looking up at his tall frame, “ye-eah that’s fine.” Your voice started cracking.

The two of you walk up the driveway of the house walking hand in hand like you typically would when you were together. Suddenly, Drew’s hand gently placed itself on your lower back—thumb rubbing gentle circles.

The sensation of his touch on your skin sends millions of goosebumps down your spine; you feel comfortable in his embrace—you are home. When you enter through the back gate, your face lights up as you see his family.

"Oh my gosh, it's so glad to see you both here" Brooke, Drew's younger sister, smiles running over in your direction with a drink in her hand.

After your brief reunion, you moved to see Drew's other family members. Seeing them made you joyful and sad at the same time because you knew you wouldn't see them as much after this. 

Liliana raced over to Drew, arms raised, hoping to be hoisted up. She giggled as he kissed her face. "Stop it, Uncle Drewy," she says, tilting her head back.

Watching the two interact is the cutest thing ever. Liliana looks over her shoulder, gasping, and reaching out to you—taking her in your arms, hugging her, and spinning her around.

"You look so beautiful today," you tell the two-year-old in your arms. She glances up at you, reaching for your necklace before wrapping her arms around your neck.

"You too auntie!"

Drew and you stood near to each other during the party—kissing your cheeks, hugging you close, resting his hand on your thigh—all the things you used to do. You could feel each other's distress.

Your entire body was screaming. You and Drew were dating for over four years. This split is still fresh for both of you. You just wanted to stay close to him the entire time, and he felt the same way.

People asked you how your relationship was going and when Drew was gonna get down on one knee. Just typical questions that've been asked before. No one suspected anything off between you two.

The drive back to your house didn't take long. Drew and you were making small talk about the party and seeing Liliana's face when she opened her gifts.

Drew parked the car and switched off the engine, but neither of you made a move to exit. The streetlights provided a soothing light inside the car, highlighting the stress on his face. He finally ended the silence.

"I hate this, you know," he continued, his voice tight. "Pretending like everything's fine when it's not."

You gulped hard, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "Me, too. But what options do we have?"

He turned to face you, looking into your eyes. "We can try again. Maybe we just needed some time apart to think things through."

"I still love you," he said softly, his voice breaking.

Your heart tightened at his words, and you clutched his palm tightly. "I still love you, too. But love isn't always sufficient."

By this point, your voice had begun to crack. You just wanted to jump into his arms one final time and have him tell you everything would be fine.

The hush that ensued was deafening. You both understood the reality, even if it was difficult to accept. You slowly and reluctantly drew your hand away and sought for the door handle.

"Goodbye, Drew," you replied softly, exiting the car.

You headed towards your apartment, your vision hazy with tears. Just as you approached the door, you heard him yell your name. Turning around, you noticed the pain imprinted on his face, which mirrored your own.

"Goodbye," he murmured quietly.

He stared at you as you walked to your front door. He wanted he could walk in the house with you, but you never asked. Turning around and waved your final goodbye as he slowly drove away. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as you close the door. You couldn't hold back the tears. You hoped everything had never happened in the first place and that everything would have been okay. However, not everything goes as planned.

All those memories you made together are flooding through your mind as you walk yourself to your bedroom.

One day you'll find your way back. One day.

⎯⎯ my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

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[winxanity-ii]

LIKE WHAT YOU SEE?

ship: fashion designer!gojo x fem!model!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimualtion; p in v ; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos) word count: 6.6k (i'm gagged cuz i swear it wasn't that many words as i was typing 😭😭💀) A/N: Hey, bubbly-bear! just wanted to let you know i've moved from my my alt account to my main one, so i'm posting your request here…

Request:Hello! I had a lil gojo x reader idea but if you aren’t vibing with it please dont feel like you have to write it, or change it how you see fit! BUT I feel like Guess (ft. Billie E.) By Charlie xcx is so Gojo coded and I would love to see a fic based off of it if possible :)

p.s. mwaaaaahhhhh, thx you so much for being my first request, hope i did you justice 😩✨

This line from the song just stood out to me and i just had to write it:

I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it Pull it to the side and get all up in it Kiss it, ride it, can I fit it?

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

"Turn your head like that—yes, perfect! Raise your chin a little more. Hold it!" The head photographer's voice cut through the organized chaos, every word precise and demanding. "Lighting! Can we adjust the back light, it's catching too much glare!" Another barked command as assistants scurried to fix the harsh spotlight casting an overexposed halo on you. "Makeup! Fix the lipstick; it's smudged." The pace had been relentless, as it always was on set. The camera had clicked, capturing each second of your endurance, but all you could focus on was the way your body ached.

Your feet, crammed into designer heels, screamed for relief, and your back burned from holding poses longer than it felt natural. You shifted your weight slightly, hoping no one noticed as the clicks of the camera went on like rapid fire.

"Alright, people, ten-minute break!" Finally, the head photographer clapped his hands, giving everyone the much-needed signal to stop.

A bell rang faintly in the background, and your shoulders slumped as you let out a groan.

You dropped the strained pose you had been holding for what felt like an eternity. You rolled your neck, feeling the tension snap and release in your joints.

The lights dimmed slightly as Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuji sauntered over from the swimwear shoot, and you couldn't help but notice how their outfits screamed for attention—both in completely different ways.

Nobara was in a skimpy two-piece swimsuit, the top barely enough to cover her small bust, accentuating her slim waist. The delicate straps dug into her skin as she pulled at them, clearly annoyed, though the outfit highlighted her toned frame with every step she took.

The bottom piece clung to her hips, just barely covering enough to maintain some modesty, with high-cut sides that emphasized her long legs.

Despite the discomfort written across her face, Nobara moved with confidence, her slender figure not going unnoticed by the photographers still milling around.

She scrunched her nose. "This swimsuit is killing me," she muttered, fingers fidgeting with the ties around her waist. "Honestly, whose idea was it to make swimwear this uncomfortable?"

Yuji, in contrast, had an air of ease about him, rocking a pair of matching swim trunks that coordinated with Nobara's outfit—an intentional design that somehow made their shoot feel like a playful, couples-themed editorial.

His bare chest gleamed under the studio lights, each of his perfectly sculpted abs on display as though carved by a sculptor. His body was toned yet muscular, the kind of physique that didn’t need fancy clothes to stand out.

With sun-kissed skin and that infectious grin, Yuji could have made wearing anything look effortless.

"C'mon, Nobara, we don't have that much longer. Besides, you look great," Yuji said, his voice lighthearted as always.

Nobara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, says the guy who could wear a trash bag and still smile like it's no big deal."

You let out a quiet chuckle as Yuji gave you a wink before being called away to review some of the shots. He shot you a playful smile over his shoulder as he walked off, his broad back flexing slightly under the pressure of moving around in the hot lights.

"Ugh, I swear, if Yuji keeps this up, I'm going to barf," Nobara muttered, shaking her head as she sidled up next to you, arms crossed over her chest.

The two of you made your way toward the refreshments table, where the scattered models and assistants buzzed like bees around a honey pot.

You could feel the material of your own outfit shift as you moved, the delicate knitted vest you wore slightly hugging your upper body. It was all part of the 'clean girl' aesthetic your stylist had chosen for you—a knitted cream-colored vest over a crisp white blouse, paired with a pleated schoolgirl skirt that swayed with every step.

It was simple, yet chic—the kind of outfit that made you feel both elegant and casual at the same time.

Yet, despite its light, airy look, the long hours standing in the heels were starting to make your feet scream. The snug fit of the vest only heightened the strain on your tired muscles, adding to the sense of exhaustion.

Nobara leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming as if she was about to share the juiciest tidbit of gossip she had yet. "So, did you hear about Kaori and that photographer? Apparently, they got caught in one of the back dressing rooms."

You raised a brow, barely hiding your amusement. "Kaori? The one who's been eyeing everyone since day one?."

"Oh, and you didn't hear this from me," Nobara continued, lowering her voice even more, "but Sumi told me that Yuji's been getting cozy with that new model, Megumi. You know, the quiet one? Well, they—"

You groaned, cutting her off. "Don't you ever get tired of knowing all the messy things?"

Nobara rolled her eyes dramatically, her lips curling into a smirk. "Never~" she said, before nodding toward the side entrance. Her voice took on a mischievous edge as she added, "Just like I know you never get tired of denying that your new stylist wants to fuck you."

You practically choked, your eyes widening as the words hit you. "W-What?" you sputtered, your face heating up. You let out a shaky laugh, then coughed, trying to gather yourself. "Stop saying that…"

Nobara's smirk only grew wider, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Oh, come on. The man practically undresses you with his eyes every time he's around. You can't tell me you don't notice the way he looks at you. The man's got designs on more than just your clothes, babe."

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and you averted your gaze, unsure how to respond.

It was hard to deny that your stylist's hands lingered just a bit too long during fittings, or that his gaze seemed a little too intense when he adjusted the fabrics on your body.

The clean, tailored looks he designed for you always felt more intimate than the pieces he created for other models. But surely, it was just part of his meticulous nature, right?

"I-It's just professional," you stammered, glancing down at the drink in your hand, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the growing knot in your stomach. "He's focused on the designs, Nobara. That's it."

Nobara snorted, giving you a knowing look. "Yeah, okay. If by ‘designs’ you mean figuring out how to get under your clothes, then sure. But I mean, I'm not complaining. If I were in your shoes, I'd fuck him."

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over you both, and you didn't need to look up to know who it was. You felt his presence before you saw him.

There, leaning casually against the side of the refreshment table, was Gojo Satoru, the man in question.

His signature smirk played on his lips as those piercing, ice-blue eyes of his scanned over you over his shades, and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze as it lingered on your skirt.

"Ladies," Satoru drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with charm. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything too scandalous?"

Nobara raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing look before stepping back. "Oh no, nothing at all. We were just talking about your... designs," she said with a sly grin before stepping back. "Guess, I'll leave you two to it," she teased, nudging you as she walked away.

And just like that, you were left alone with him, heart racing as you met his eyes. His grin only widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"So..." Satoru murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in slightly. "Anything you'd like to confess?"

Your throat went dry, and you could only shake your head, praying that he hadn't overheard Nobara's playful remarks.

But judging by the gleam in his eyes, you had a feeling he probably had.

Your heart raced as you tried to compose yourself, swallowing back the nerves rising in your throat. You forced a smile, though it felt shaky at best. "I don't have anything to confess," you said, attempting to keep your voice light. "Is there anything you need help with?"

Satoru's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming as he straightened up, his hands casually slipping into the pockets of his perfectly tailored trousers. "As a matter of fact," he drawled, "you could help me with something."

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Before you could ask what he meant, two of Satoru's assistants appeared at his side, as if on cue, each one wearing the kind of professionalism that didn't quite mask the urgency in their steps.

Without explanation, they began to gently but firmly usher you toward the changing quarters.

"W-Wait—what's going on?" you stammered, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru, who followed behind leisurely, his long strides giving him an air of complete control. "Why am I changing? I thought my shoot was almost over?"

"Oh, nothing much," Satoru sing-songed, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin. "I just had a chat with the higher-ups about pushing up the date for a few of our theme releases. Ya'know, rearranging which models get which looks."

Your confusion only deepened, and you blinked owlishly, trying to make sense of his words as you were guided toward a small room at the end of the hallway. "But—what does that have to do with—"

You trailed off as you stepped into the changing room and saw the mannequin sitting in the center. It was draped in an outfit that made your breath catch in your throat. A short leather miniskirt, sleek and shimmering, paired with a crop bodycon top that clung to the mannequin’s torso like a second skin

The entire ensemble was a bold combination of black and silver, with metallic bangles adorning the arms and a choker embedded with silver and black accents.

But what truly caught your attention was the soft sheen of baby blue that ran through the outfit—a shade that was eerily similar to the blue of Satoru's eyes.

You stared at the outfit for a moment, taking in the platform boots that completed the look, their towering heels intimidating yet alluring. The whole ensemble screamed nightlife, clubbing, a world of flashing lights and pulsing music.

It was striking, to say the least.

The assistants wasted no time, setting down various items on a nearby table while preparing the room for your quick change. But you stood frozen, blinking again as realization slowly dawned.

Satoru leaned against the doorframe, watching you with an almost lazy amusement.

"You're joking," you muttered, half in disbelief.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

You glanced back at the mannequin, the black and silver catching the light in a way that made the outfit seem even more eye-catching.

The baby blue accents shimmered faintly, bringing your thoughts right back to Satoru, his confident smirk and those eyes that seemed to follow your every move.

The outfit looked like it had been designed for you—and only you.

The assistants were already moving around, gesturing for you to start changing, but your mind was still reeling. "You... moved up the schedule?"

"Had a feeling this look was perfect for you," Satoru said casually, pushing off the doorframe and walking further into the room. "Wanted to see it on you sooner rather than later."

You bit your lip, nerves fluttering in your chest as you stared at the mannequin once more.

The way Satoru's gaze lingered on you sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if this entire thing had been orchestrated just for his amusement, his design, his vision.

The assistants handed you the top, a fitted crop that shimmered in the light, the baby blue accents standing out against the metallic silver.

You reluctantly grabbed it from them as they moved off to remove the other pieces from the mannequin.

The room felt warmer all of a sudden, like the air had thickened, and you couldn’t shake the tension prickling at the back of your neck.

You lifted your gaze only to find Satoru already staring at you, his eyes locked on yours in a way that made your breath hitch. You cleared your throat, your voice shaky as you tried to break the spell. "Shouldn't you leave? I need to change."

Instead of moving, his lips curved into that trademark smirk that always made your stomach flip. "I'll have to stay and oversee things. You know, just to make sure nothing goes wrong. I can swoop in and fix anything if needed."

Your face burned, heat rushing to your cheeks as his words lingered in the air.

You weren't naïve. You'd worked with dozens of stylists before, all of them meticulous, always staying to make sure the fit was perfect. But none of them ever made your skin tingle the way Satoru did.

None of them ever watched you like they were imagining a thousand different things beneath the clothes. And none of them ever made you feel like you were burning alive from the inside out with just a look.

Heart pounding, you turned away, hoping to escape his gaze. You began undressing, slipping out of your current outfit.

Each movement felt amplified, like you could feel the air around you, charged with tension. You reached behind yourself, trying to steady your breathing as you fumbled with the zipper.

You could practically feel his eyes on you, mapping out your body, lingering on every curve as if he could see right through the fabric.

Your skin prickled, the sensation of his gaze making it hard to even think straight. Every breath felt labored, every second stretched too long.

As you reached behind to unclip your bralette, your fingers trembling slightly, you felt a pair of hands cover yours—large, warm, and deliberate.

The shock froze you in place, your breath catching in your throat.

"Allow me to help you with that…" His voice was low, velvety, and it sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear.

The world narrowed to that moment, the heat of his presence overwhelming your senses. His fingers gently brushed against yours as he unhooked your bralette, the touch feather-light but filled with an unspoken promise.

You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, the room suddenly too small, too hot, with Satoru towering behind you, his hands so close, too close.

Every nerve in your body screamed in protest, but your heart betrayed you, hammering in your chest as a low pulse of desire curled through your veins.

His hands slid away as he stepped back, giving you room, but the mark of his touch lingered long after he'd let go.

It left you breathless, the space between you charged with something dangerous, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air.

Satoru's smirk never wavered, his eyes still locked onto yours in the reflection of the mirror. "There..." he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "...All done."

You stuttered out a soft, breathless, "Thank you," barely able to get the words out before Satoru turned on his heel. His presence seemed to consume the room, but as he barked an order to one of his assistants, the pressure finally lifted.

"Adjust the lighting for the next setup! And I want the backdrop changed in five minutes!" Satoru's voice rang out, sharp and authoritative. With one last glance over his shoulder at you, he strode away, leaving the room in a whirlwind of activity.

As soon as he was gone, it felt like you could finally breathe again. The air in the room cooled, the weight of his lingering presence fading, though not entirely.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you pulled the leather skirt up over your hips, the fabric snug against your skin. Satoru's assistant helped you with the bodycon top, tugging it into place, adjusting the hem and smoothing out the fabric as it clung to your curves.

The outfit was bold—almost too bold—but it fit like a second skin, highlighting every line of your body in the way only Satoru's designs could.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of camera clicks, flashing lights, and endless posing. Hours slipped by, the sun gradually lowering as the shoot continued, stretching longer than expected.

Nanami Kento, the photographer overseeing everything, was a perfectionist. His no-nonsense attitude left no room for error, and his eye for detail was unmatched.

He had insisted on waiting for the natural dusk light, arguing that it would complement the metallic sheen of your outfit and bring out the best in the overall composition.

You had worked with Kento before. His bluntness and unwavering pursuit of perfection made him a tough taskmaster, but he was one of the best in the industry.

Shoots paired with him always led to increased success. His images captured not just the clothes, but the mood, the essence of the model wearing them.

He and Satoru were at the top of their game right now, the dynamic power duo behind many successful campaigns, and you couldn't deny how they both pushed you further than anyone else ever had.

"…And… that's a wrap!" Kento's voice finally cut through the endless camera clicks, sharp and definitive. The faint ring of a bell followed, signaling the end of the shoot.

You exhaled a long, relieved breath, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders.

The shoot had taken the remainder of the day, from midday to the last golden rays of dusk.

The combination of Satoru's exacting demands—making you pose in just the right way to show off the outfit—and Kento's insistence on perfect lighting meant you'd spent hours standing, twisting, and holding uncomfortable poses.

The tightness in your back and shoulders made it clear how long you had been at it. Your feet ached in the platform boots, and your muscles screamed for rest.

As the assistants began to pack away the equipment, the space slowly emptied out. The other models and staff had long since finished their own shoots and left, leaving only you and a skeleton crew behind.

The studio, once alive with chaos, was now eerily quiet, the low hum of final tasks being completed the only sound in the background.

You peeled yourself away from the set and made your way back to the dressing room, feeling the tightness of the leather skirt with every step.

The corridors were deserted now, with most of the team having wrapped up hours ago. The silence was almost jarring after the noise and flurry of the day.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body protesting as you moved.

Finally, you reached your dressing room, the door creaking slightly as you pushed it open. The sight of the empty space—the vanity mirror now bare, clothes and shoes scattered—was a welcome relief.

The day had been long, but now you could unwind.

As you closed the door behind you, the quiet settled over you like a blanket, offering you the peace you desperately needed.

You stumbled into the room, barely keeping yourself upright as exhaustion weighed down your limbs. Practically dead on your feet, you began peeling off the clothes that had felt glued to your body for the last several hours.

The crop top slipped off first, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

You didn't care where it landed as you walked over to the couch in the center of the room, facing a large squared mirror. Each step felt like a weight being lifted from your sore muscles.

A cool draft brushed against your bare torso, making you shiver slightly as it passed over the sheen of sweat from the long day. Your fingers worked at the accessories next, unfastening the bangles around your wrists and dropping them carelessly.

The metal clanked against the floor, loud in the otherwise quiet space. You massaged your sore wrists, the cool air soothing the raw skin where the jewelry had pressed tight against you.

Your fingers then moved to the choker at your neck, tugging it free and letting it fall beside the rest, relieved to feel the soft touch of air against your throat.

Your mind began to drift, wandering somewhere far away from the chaos of the day. You thought about what you'd do when you got home.

Maybe snack on those yogurt bites you found at the grocery store earlier that week. Or maybe you can finally binge-watch that series you'd been meaning to catch up on.

The thought made you feel a little lighter.

Hell, you can even spend tomorrow doing absolutely nothing, you have nothing booked!

You were right in the middle of imagining your lazy day ahead, fingers working the clasp of your bralette, when the door creaked open behind you.

"Hey! I'm—" Your arms instinctively rose to catch your slipping bra before it could fall completely. Your heart raced, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

You looked up at the large mirror in front of you, eyes wide, only to lock gazes with Satoru, lounging casually against the doorway as if he had all the time in the world.

"—undressing," you finished, your voice dropping to a shaky whisper.

Satoru's lips curved into a faint smirk, his gaze shameless as it raked over your disheveled appearance. He tilted his head slightly, looking over his shades at the scattered accessories and top on the floor. "You know," he said, his voice light with a playful edge, "you really shouldn't leave my designs lying around like that. It's almost disrespectful."

For a moment, you thought he'd bend down to pick up the items—his creations, after all. But instead, he strolled right past them, making his way toward you.

Your breath hitched, your body freezing in place as his steps closed the distance between you.

Satoru's eyes, usually filled with playful mischief, were darker now, more intense as they followed the lines of your form.

He moved with the kind of confidence that left no room for doubt. And as he reached your side, standing just behind you, his presence loomed, filling the small space with the heat of his gaze.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the cool draft that had once been a relief now doing little to cool the flush rising across your skin.

Satoru stepped even closer, the heat radiating from him making the cool draft on your bare skin feel like a distant memory. His presence was overwhelming, filling the small room until all you could focus on was the warmth seeping from him and the way his gaze lingered on your reflection in the mirror.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, almost idle, "a lot of my best designs… they're not the ones I spend weeks perfecting." His words drifted through the air like a secret. He raised a hand, his fingertips brushing lightly against the faint indents the choker had left on your neck. The touch was barely there, yet it sent a shiver running down your spine. "No… the ones that really stand out," he continued, "are the ones that light up in my mind every time you fall into my vision."

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as he leaned in closer, his chest now just inches from your back.

The heat from his body wrapped around you like a second skin, and you watched him through the mirror, mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he spoke.

His hand, warm and deliberate, trailed slowly down your arm, his fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness that felt both comforting and dangerous.

"You're my muse," he said, almost as if speaking to himself, lost in the thought. "Every second I spend watching you, seeing you wear my designs, it's nothing but inspiration." His hand continued to drift lower, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist before sliding back up, pulling you just slightly, coaxing your body into his.

Your breath grew heavier, chest rising and falling with each shallow inhale as you were drawn back against him, the solid warmth of his chest pressing into your bare back.

Your gaze flickered to the mirror, watching the scene unfold before you—his hand resting lightly on your waist, his eyes tracing the outline of your form as if committing every curve, every inch of you, to memory.

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, fanning against your ear, and it made your head spin, your thoughts running wild.

"Every touch," he murmured, his lips brushing just above your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Every glance…" His voice dropped, becoming something darker, heavier. "I can't stop thinking about how perfectly you fit into my designs. Like you were made for them—or maybe… they were made for you."

His hand trailed down your arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, and you watched him in the mirror, breath hitching in your throat. Then, his lips ghosted over your ear again, the warmth of his breath making you tremble as he purred, "But you know… I keep thinking about something else…"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you felt him shift closer, his chest now flush against your back. The air between you crackled with tension, thick and almost suffocating, and yet you couldn't pull away—you didn't want to.

His hands pressed against your waist as he lowered his voice to something almost sinful. "…How perfectly you'll fit around me."

The words slipped from his lips, dripping with raw, undeniable desire, every word reverberating through your skin, hitting you like a tidal wave. Your breath stilled in your lungs, heat coursing through your body as your mind raced.

Wait a minute—what's… b-but—

His arms tightened around you as his mouth hovered near your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you feel it too," he groaned, his voice low, growling with need as his fingers dug into your hips. "Tell me you want it… just as badly as I do."

Finally, your mouth seemed to catch up with your thoughts. "S-Satoru—"

Your voice once again falls away as Satoru's arms tightened around you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. You felt his chest rise and fall rapidly, pressing into your back, his grip around your waist possessive, firm.

Then, in a voice so raw, so desperate it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered, "Can I... have you?"

The words tumbled from his lips in a near whimper, laden with a hunger that bordered on pleading. His breath hitched, his forehead brushing against the back of your neck as if even he was losing control of the space between you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your mind trying to process everything, yet failing to hold onto any coherent thought. His words, the way they sounded so needy, left you breathless.

You watched him in the mirror, his reflection almost ghostly in the low light of the room. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as they lingered on your form, and his lips, parted slightly, looked dangerously close to speaking something sinful, something that would push you over the edge.

The room was silent except for his panting breaths in your ear. You could feel his need in the way his arms wrapped around you, in the way his fingers pressed just a little too tightly into your skin.

"Say yes..." he breathed, his voice low and pleading, his lips now trailing down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat with every soft, almost teasing touch. "Please... just say yes."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place as your mind blocking out everything else but Satoru.

The sound of him, the feel of him, the way his voice came out in that almost whimpering tone—it consumed you, leaving no room for anything else but him.

Finally, a breathless, barely audible "yes" escaped your lips, the word trembling from your mouth like a whimper, your resolve crumbling under the intensity of the moment.

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Satoru. His wicked smirk grew, a gleam in his eyes as he dipped his head lower, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before dragging his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your skin.

The heat of his breath against your neck sent shivers racing down your spine, making your entire body tense.

"Good girl~" he purred softly into your ear, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before you could even catch your breath, he pulled you down onto the couch, his movements fluid and effortless. You landed in his lap, your back pressed firmly against his chest, legs bent and pulled up on either side of him, facing the mirror.

our thighs immediately began to burn from the stretch, the leather skirt you wore sliding up all the way, exposing the lace underwear beneath—the same light blue that matched the bralette you'd worn earlier.

The delicate fabric contrasted sharply with the heat of the moment, and your face flushed in embarrassment as your eyes caught the sight of a small wet patch there.

Your heart raced as you tried instinctively to close your legs, but before you could, he gently tapped your thighs with his fingers, his smirk never faltering. "Aht aht," he scolded lightly, his tone playful but firm, making it clear that he was in control.

His arms slid under your legs, lifting them slightly and pulling them farther apart.

The stretch made you gasp, thighs burning as he forced you all the way back against his chest, your body now fully reclined into him.

His grip was strong but not painful, holding you in place as his breath ghosted over the side of your face.

In the mirror, you saw it all—your legs spread wide, your flushed face, and Satoru's darkened gaze fixed on you, his expression one of total control. His was voice, low and teasing, rumbling against your ear. "Look at you... perfect," he murmured, holding you tightly against him, his arms securing you in place, his presence overwhelming.

The reflection showed more than just your vulnerability—it was the power he had over you, and the way he reveled in every second of it.

Satoru's left hand slowly trailed down your body, his touch feather-light at first, but purposeful. The cool air kissed your skin as his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your underwear, his hand pressing firmly against your most sensitive spot without pulling the fabric to the side.

The sensation made your breath hitch, and your entire body tensed as his fingers began to move, rubbing slow, deliberate circles along your slit, teasing and drawing out every bit of tension you’d been holding inside.

His fingers trailed gently up and down, gliding over your skin as if he were mapping you out, testing your every reaction. He found your clit with ease, rubbing small, teasing circles that sent jolts of heat through you, the slow rhythm making it impossible to think straight.

Your thighs twitched, the stretch around him making the sensation even more intense. The heat of embarrassment flooded through you as your body reacted, and when you turned your face away, unable to watch the reflection of what he was doing to you.

Satoru clicked his tongue softly in disapproval. "Uh-uh," he murmured, his voice dark with command. "Eyes on the mirror. Watch what I do to you."

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as your gaze reluctantly shifted back to the mirror.

His hand kept moving, the slow rhythm intensifying, the way he touched you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. His reflection was smug, pleased, as he watched you fight to keep your eyes open and focused on what he was doing.

It was an order, and disobeying felt impossible.

When his finger slipped inside you, your body jolted slightly, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His movements were slow, deliberate, each stroke inside you making it harder to think.

One became two, both pumping in and out of your clenching heat with a slow, deep rhythm. He kept his other arm wrapped securely around your waist, holding you in place against his chest as he worked his fingers deeper.

His breath was hot against your ear as his grip on your body tightened, his voice a low groan as he spoke. "You know what I can't wait to do?" His words sent a new rush of heat through you, and he chuckled softly at your reaction. "I can't wait to taste you... spend hours learning every inch of my muse's body. Watching you come undone again and again and again."

The promise in his voice made your mind reel, the intensity of his touch and his words leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as your pulse raced.

A particularly well-angled thrust had your back arching, a breathy moan slipping free. "That's it..." he praised, curling his fingers so they can brush against your G-spot again. "You're so wet for me... So responsive."

His thumb joined the fray, rubbing firmer circles over your clit that had your hips rolling mindlessly to meet his touch. He worked you higher and higher, stoking the flames of your pleasure until you were teetering right on the edge.

And still, he demanded you watch. Compelled you to observe the wanton display you made, his dark gaze devouring you from over your shoulder.

"Come for me," Satoru growled against your lips, his fingers pumping furiously now. "Let go. Now."

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and whiting out your vision. You shook and shuddered in his hold, a cry of ecstasy torn from your throat as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from your spasming body.

Satoru swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing you deeply as he continued his ministrations.

Only when you collapsed bonelessly against him did Satoru still his hand, drawing his glistening fingers from your depths. He brought them to his mouth, maintaining eye contact through the mirror as he licked them clean with a shameless moan.

"Delicious~" he purred, voice rough with satisfaction. "My perfect muse."

You felt weightless, the tension from the day—hell, the whole week—melting into nothingness as the lingering echoes of your orgasm left you in a daze. Your body felt loose, relaxed, like all the stress had finally evaporated, and for a moment, you simply existed, floating in the aftermath.

Then, you felt your thighs shift wider, and a small, confused sound escaped you before you even realized it.

Satoru's low chuckle filled the quiet room, dark and amused. "You didn’t think that was it, did you?" His voice dripped with mischief as his hands moved to adjust you in his lap. He shifted beneath you, pulling his pants down slightly as he repositioned you, pulling you higher onto his lap.

The movement pressed you closer to him, allowing you to fully feel him underneath you, hard and insistent. His hand returned to your underwear, the long digits returning to rub away at you.

The sudden pressure made your back arch instinctively, a small whimper escaping your lips from the mix of sensation—equal parts pleasure and the discomfort of being played with beyond your limit.

"Silly girl," he tutted softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. His hand returned to your waist, the grip firm yet tender, as he tugged your underwear to the side, filling you in one stroke.

You both froze for different reasons—your legs trembled as you felt the stretch, trying to stay tethered because he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, while Satoru groaned, overwhelmed by the tightness that enveloped him.

"F-Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed.

You let out a broken whimper, arms growing weak and giving out beneath you. You collapsed slightly forward, your forehead resting against his thighs as you tried to adjust, to find some relief from the pressure.

Satoru growled softly at the sight, his hands gripping your waist with more purpose. He pulled you fully down onto him, your hips flush against his.

"S-Satoru..." you moaned, your voice shaking, tears welling in your eyes as the sensation became overwhelming.

His hips jerked forward in short, deliberate movements, and your body responded, helpless to the rhythm he set. "T-that's right, baby, say my name..." he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hands guided you, pulling you back down with each upward thrust.

He lifted his hips to speed up the movements. You could only cling to his thighs, breathless and powerless against the force of his desire.

Satoru kept going, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer, filthy words laced with desire. His grip on your waist was tight, almost bruising, as he held you firmly in place.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room—wet, slick noises and the rhythmic squelching with every movement.

The intensity of the moment wrapped around you, heightening every sensation, your body overwhelmed by the pressure building inside you.

Your second orgasm was approaching too quickly, the wave of pleasure rising fast, almost too much to handle. Desperation washed over you, and you tried to scoot forward, to slow things down, but Satoru's response was immediate—he went faster, his thrusts growing erratic.

You let out a choked cry, begging for him to slow down, but he only groaned in response, his pace relentless.

The sensation was overwhelming, and then it hit you, like you were thrown over the edge. Your eyes fluttered closed as the blinding pleasure rocked your entire frame.

Your body shook, every nerve alight as the intensity consumed you. You could hear Satoru cursing under his breath as you trembled in his arms, your body a quivering mess in the aftermath.

And then you felt it—the heat of him filling you, spreading through your lower body in a rush of warmth. Satoru let out a long, drawn-out groan, pressing himself flush against you as he reached his climax. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as he stayed close, savoring the feeling.

Before you could catch your breath or say anything, Satoru moved again. He pulled you back slightly, and you gasped, the sudden movement sending a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you.

His hands snaked under your thighs, lifting you carefully from his lap. He groaned softly as he watched his release spilling from you, leaking out as he admired the sight.

Satoru gave a low whistle, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "What a sight to see," he hummed, his voice thick with amusement. One of his hands trailed down to your entrance, his thumb gently grazing over the sensitive skin.

He played with your sticky entrance, his fingers teasing, before pressing back to plug up the fallen release. Your thighs twitched in response, a shiver running through you at the sudden sensation.

You called out his name for what felt like the third time, your voice weak but pleading. "Satoru..."

He let out a tired but satisfied chuckle, his hand pulling away as he finally relented. "Fine, fine," he murmured, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. He settled you down on his lap again, this time pulling you close to his chest, cradling you as his arms wrapped securely around you.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, his breathing slowing as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

The night grew quiet, the tension fading into a comfortable stillness, but even as you relaxed against him, your mind wandered.

As the night went on, you couldn't help but think: Nobara was fucking right.

A/N: lolol, sorry for the influx of smut guys, promise this won't be like an everyday thinjg.... 👀 anyways, hope this was up to your standards and wasn't too bad bubbly-bear, i tried my best to make it work to the song...😭

[justnatoka]

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Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: slight physical violence (manager grabs reader's arm), verbal abuse

Prompt: “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” / “Yes.” / “What if I just break his nose a little?”

Summary: The boys have been coming to the diner you’re waiting tables at for a while. Your manager is not a fan. One night things escalate.

Part 1/2

Next Part

The bell chimed above the door, signaling the arrival of new customers. You looked up after placing the food in front of an older couple, and a bright smile lit up your face as you saw the group of four that just walked in. David and his gang have been coming to the diner for months now. They showed up one night, seemingly curious about the new place that had just opened on the boardwalk. You took their order, they made a few flirty remarks, you flirted right back, and that was it. They obviously took a liking to you and have been coming back every other night. It was honestly the highlight of your day, your stomach flipping in excitement every time. Even if they barely ordered anything, they still spent hours there, and you made an effort to go over to them and chat when work got slower and you had some time.

Your manager clearly didn’t like that. He complained before that they make other customers uncomfortable – although it didn’t seem that way to you –, and chastised you for encouraging them to spend so much time there. He made it a point to give you meaningless tasks so you wouldn’t have time for them, making them leave quicker. He had also been making snide remarks about them and glaring at their table to the point that they started noticing it.

You could basically hear him rolling his eyes from behind the counter as you walked up to their booth and greeted them.

“Hey guys, long time no see,” you joked.

“Hi babe, did you miss us?” Paul purred resting his head in his hand, giving you a dreamy look.

“Maybe,” you smiled coyly. “Maybe not. Who knows?”

“You’re such a tease,” he pouted, but his eyes were smiling.

“You know you like it, Paulie.”

“Oh, I absolutely love it,” he grinned right back at you.

You chuckled. “What can I get you guys? The usual?”

“Can I have you for dinner, sugar? I promise I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to,” Marko said with a shit eating grin on his face.

“You and gentle are on two different planets when it comes to eating, Marko. Babe, if I were you, I wouldn’t let his teeth near me.”

Marko swatted at Paul, who grabbed a menu to shield himself. “Shut up, dude. You’re no better either. You make even bigger messes than I do.”

“Not true.”

“Who complained about his pants getting ruined just a few days ago? Again.”

“Come on, man, that was one time.”

“Like I said. Again.”

“Yeah? Well you-“

“Boys,” David interjected before it could get any more out of hand. “How about we order already?” His tone sounded casual, but there was an edge to it that caused the other two to begrudgingly back down. It was a good thing too. Some of the other customers were already staring at the commotion, shuffling uncomfortably in their seats and whispering among themselves. You could feel your manager practically glaring holes into the back of your head.

They proceeded to give you their orders one by one, and after writing them down and sending them one last smile, you went to relay the orders to the cook. That’s when your manager walked up to you, his stormy expression promising nothing good.

“I need to talk to you for a second,” he stated.

Holding back an eye roll you nodded, “Sure.”

“I told you before that they are not welcome here,” he started, sending a glance towards their table. “Tell those punks to behave or they’ll get kicked out. This is a respectable establishment. We don’t want some hooligans bringing down our reputation.”

You wondered whether he had the balls to do the kicking out himself, but all you said aloud was “Yes, sir.”

When you brought out their food, Dwayne caught your wrist to get your attention.

“Is he giving you trouble again?” He motioned with his eyes towards the kitchen, and you looked to see your manager staring out the little window cut into the door.

“It’s fine, nothing I can’t deal with,” you huffed, frustration evident in your voice. Dwayne gave you a concerned look but nodded, trusting your word.

“Thanks for checking in with me though,” you added, feeling a little bashful all of a sudden, not really used to people caring this much about your well-being.

“Of course,” he smiled back at you.

After giving them their food, you wanted to stay and chat for a bit more, seeing as there weren’t many customers, but you could still feel the glare of your manager so you thought better of it. You went back behind the counter and started wiping it down.

You busied yourself with other tasks for a while, refilling a few coffee cups and making small talk while doing so, cleaning up tables after customers left and taking the orders of new arrivals. Even so, you kept stealing glances at them, blushing when you caught David already looking at you a few times. You noticed that he had a habit of following you around with his eyes while you were working, and although you were slightly unnerved at first, now it felt reassuring to know that he was constantly watching over you.

Tearing your eyes from him you wondered, not for the first time, what their life might be like outside these nightly visits. As much as you’ve gotten to know them these past few months, they were still an enigma in a sense. You haven’t seen them around town during the day before, and every time you asked questions about their background, they skillfully redirected the conversation. So you stopped inquiring, afraid that your prodding will drive them away. For now, you were satisfied with just having them here every other night, brightening up your shift with some light flirting and laughter.

Speaking of laughter, you looked up at the sound of a commotion, only to see Marko dodging a fry chucked at his head by Paul and quickly countering with an attack of his own. Paul barely had time to hold up his menu, the handful of fries bouncing off its surface and onto the seat between them, some of it dropping to the floor. He just let down his impromptu shield, when an onion ring landed right in the middle of his face. The whole table burst out laughing, and he was pointing an accusatory finger at Dwayne, who was shrugging his shoulders with a grin. David was leaning back, watching the food fight with amusement, sipping on his drink.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics, not even bothered that you will have to clean up the mess they created. You headed to the back to get a broom, already thinking about a witty line to tell them off. You just turned around to go back out there, when your manager grabbed your arm. Startled, you let go of the broom and it loudly clattered to the floor.

As you looked into his eyes, you saw that he was seething.

“You tell these low-lives to get the hell out of here right now. Enough is enough. They are loud, not respecting other customers, and now they are making a huge mess by throwing food around. I’ve had it up to here with all this. If they keep coming back I’ll have to do something about it,” he hissed at you, then gave you a look which made you feel like dirt under his shoe. “It would also help a lot if you weren’t encouraging them. Batting your eyelashes like a common whore. You think I couldn’t replace you within a few days? You need to start behaving like a professional or so help me I’ll kick you to the curb.”

His grip on you was tightening with each word, and you tried not to flinch. You’ve never seen him so angry before and it was starting to scare you.

“I’m just trying to be friendly with the customers…”

He wasn’t having any of it. “Enough with the fucking excuses. You go over there and tell them to get out right now.”

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked out and as soon as he let you go, you rushed out of there, broom forgotten on the floor.

David was already looking at you when you approached them. His eyes were on you the second you stepped out of the door, his mood darkening as he took you in. Dwayne picked up on it as well, following his gaze to you. He became alert when he saw your stiff posture, your fingers nervously fidgeting with your apron.

“Hey, dollface,” Paul greeted you with a radiant smile, “have you tried this milkshake before? It’s fucking amazing.”

His grin instantly disappeared from his face when you didn’t smile back.

“Everything okay, babe?” he asked, a bit unsure.

You gave him a sigh before you spoke, “I’m sorry, guys, but you have to leave.” There was silence at the table.

“He did this to you?” Marko’s voice was cold as he asked while staring at your arm, where a bruise was already starting to form.

“Marko, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you tried and failed to calm him down. He looked like he was fuming, ready to explode.

“Sweetheart, that’s not nothing,” Dwayne spoke up next, his jaw tight.

David didn’t say anything, but he was glaring down your manager with such intensity, that you saw him scramble back into the kitchen from the corner of your eye.

“I wanna punch him in the face,” Marko stated, and you had no doubt that he would if you let him.

“Please don’t. I need this job to pay my bills,” you sighed. You were getting exhausted at this point, and just wanted this shift to be over.

“Has he done this before? Hurt you?” Paul asked the question all of them wanted to know the answer to.

“No, he just likes to remind me that I’m a failure,” you smiled wryly. “But it’s nothing I can’t deal with. I promise.”

“Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” Marko repeated, this time with the corner of his mouth turning upward into a little smirk.

“Yes.”

“What if I just break his nose a little?” Now he was full on grinning.

You snorted. “Man, I would pay money to see that! But like I said, I really need this job. And if you do break his nose, even just a little bit, I’m sure as hell getting fired.”

David finally spoke up. “Alright, we won’t cause you any more trouble. Let’s go, boys.”

They all stood up, filing out one by one, each of them sending death stares towards your manager peeking through the kitchen door. You watched their retreating figures through the window for a second longer, already dreading how much more boring your shifts are going to be from now on if they don’t come back.

Out in the parking lot Dwayne turned to David. “We’re going to do something about this, right?”

“Yes, we’re definitely doing something about it.” He sent a smirk to the others, and as they silently communicated down the plan, they began grinning as well. They got on their bikes, and with a lot of heavy revving, they sped off into the night. It was a promise for later.

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[maryleclerc]

could you do a fic about the reader being a singer and she goes to one of luke's NHL hockey games and she is spotted there like Taylor swift was and than she writes a whole love album about her and luke

love this request, and i hope you like this 💗

LOVE SONG FOR YOU

REQUEST OPEN

PAIRING: Luke Hughes x Singer!reader

SUMMARY: After a night of supporting your boyfriend, Luke Hughes, at a New Jersey Devils game, your love for him spills over into a new album. Known for your voice and now for showing up in the stands to cheer him on, you catch the attention of fans from both your worlds. The album becomes a heartfelt reflection of your relationship, and in a playful interview with a close friend, you confirm what everyone had suspected – the album is a love letter to Luke.

WARNING: English is not my first language. Fluff, public attention, fan excitement, playful teasing, and pure romance.

Your heart pounded with excitement as you made your way to your seat, attempting to keep a low profile under a hoodie and a baseball cap. But no amount of disguise could change why you were here. You weren’t just a fan tonight, you were here to see Luke, Luke Hughes.

After a year and a half of dating, both you and Luke were used to supporting eachother from afar, you always watching his games online or catching highlights later, but tonight was different. Being here in person you could felt something electric. Your gaze stayed locked on him as he took a few warm-up laps on the ice with his teammates. Even from a distance, he looked as focused and intense as ever, radiating a quiet confidence that made your heart swell with pride.

Despite your attempt to stay under the radar, the fans around you soon began to whisper and point. Some recognized you, and you couldn’t help but smile as a few nearby Devils fans struck up casual conversation.

“Oh, so you’re a fan, huh?” a young woman in the row ahead of you said, grinning knowingly.

“Something like that,” you replied, giving her a wink.

They teased you gently, but they didn’t pry, simply enjoying the game and occasionally sharing their enthusiasm for Luke. It was heartwarming to see how loved he was by his fans, and you couldn’t help but feel an unexpected sense of camaraderie with them.

Every time Luke skated onto the ice, your eyes followed him. Each save, each play, had you holding your breath, and every victory had you clapping louder than anyone else around. There were a few moments when you caught Luke’s eye from across the rink, and though he couldn’t acknowledge you directly, the slightest hint of a smile in his eyes told you he knew you were there. In those moments, the rest of the arena seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your shared world.

When the game finally ended, with the Devils claiming a hard-fought win, you could hardly contain your pride. As you left the arena, fans with quick cameras snapped photos of you smiling, and before you knew it, they were posting online, tagging you with captions like

Spotted at Luke’s game! The way she looks at him tho…

Another power couple in sports and entertainment?

You couldn’t help but chuckled at the speculation, secretly thrilled by how much people adored seeing the two of you together.

For days after the game, memories of the night still lingered in your head. The loud cheers, the crowd’s energy, the sound of his skating on the ice, the sight of Luke in his element all of it stayed with you. Back at home, you found yourself replaying it in your mind over and over again, finding bits and pieces of inspiration in each moment.

Lyrics began to pour out, each one a line in the story of your love for Luke. Some were about the thrill of watching him play, while others were softer, quieter, capturing the moments no one else saw the late-night talks, the gentle laughter, the way he’d hold you close when no one was looking.

Writing the album felt like writing a love letter, something you considered a very romantic things. You poured all of your feelings into each verse, each melody, until the album began to take shape as a reflection of your love for him. The songs were intimate and honest, capturing the magic and the reality of being in a relationship with someone whose life was as much in the spotlight as yours.

When the album was complete, you felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. You hadn’t told Luke about it yet, wanting it to be surprise. And as the release date drew near, you could barely contain your anticipation.

When your album “Love Song for You” dropped, fans were quick to notice the clues. They dissected every lyric, analyzing lines like “the thrill of the crowd” and “the ice under your feet,” connecting them to Luke and his career. Social media erupted with theories, fans tagging both you and Luke in posts saying,

This HAS to be about him!

She’s definitely a Devils fan now!

Even Luke was taken aback when he first listened to it. He had suspected you’d been working on something special, but he hadn’t anticipated that each song would feel like a personal dedication. The two of you sat together on the couch, listening to the album as he took in each lyric. He reached over to hold your hand, his eyes full of emotion.

“This is incredible,” he said softly, his voice filled with awe. “I don’t know what to say… thank you.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “I just wanted to capture how I feel. How much I love you.”

For the next few days, social media, tiktok was flooded with reactions to the album. Fans shared clips, tagging both of you with heart emojis and comments even edits of their boyfriend, girlfriend.

A few days after the album release, you were invited to a friend’s podcast. They were well aware of your relationship with Luke and the story behind the album, but they kept things light, creating an atmosphere of fun and excitement.

After a few warm-up questions, the host leaned in with a smirk.

“So, there’s one thing everyone’s been dying to know,” they began, grinning.

“What was this album really about?”

You laughed, giving a playful shrug.

“What do you mean, ‘what was this album about?’” you replied, a twinkle in your eye. “Isn’t it too obvious?”

The host laughed, clearly delighted with your answer. “So it’s official then?” they teased, leaning back in their seat. “Our hockey star has his own singer-songwriter.”

“Absolutely,” you said, beaming.

“Every lyric, every melody, each and every single words, it’s all for him. He’s… well, he’s pretty inspiring.”

That night, you and Luke went out to celebrate, choosing a quiet, cozy restaurent where you could relax away from the public eye. As you settled into your seats at the restaurant, you both shared a laugh at the sheer amount of attention the interview had gotten.

Luke reached across the table to hold your hand, his eyes soft looking at you.

“You really didn’t have to do all that… but I’m so glad you did.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “I wanted everyone to know how amazing you are. You inspire me every day.”

He chuckled, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. “Well, now the whole world knows.” His voice softened. “Thank you. For every song, every word. I’m… the luckiest guy in the world.”

The two of you spent the rest of the evening lost in each other’s company, reminiscing over memories, and sharing dreams for the future, about his hockey career. By the time you left the restaurant, the street lights was already on, and as you walked hand in hand, you could felt the love and gratitude around you. You had poured your heart into an album, shared your love with the world, and celebrated a relationship that meant everything to you.

[ferrstappen]

could you be more obvious? l MV1

a/n: thissss is based on a request I got and ofc I added the Verstappen twins <3 this is messy I’m sorry but I’m on a writing mood

summary: you show up pregnant for the first race of 2024, just six months after Max won his 3rd WDC.

Max being crowned world champion for the third time was something that made your skin buzz with excitement, a knot form in your throat seeing everything he’s achieved and the pride and satisfaction of knowing that every single person on the team had his back, was definitely one of the best sights.

But for Luca and Mila Verstappen, their papa being champion again time wasn’t exactly a big deal… they knew it was important because there were lots of fireworks and special tshirts, but they were born watching Max a champion, they only knew him as such.

what, like it’s a big deal?

They didn’t say it, but you knew that’s what was on their mind.

That was the reason why both Max and you decided to not bring the twins to Qatar, especially with the high temperatures and Luca’s history of getting sick during Grand Prix weekends, they were more than happy to stay with auntie Vic while you got ready to celebrate your husband.

And God, did you celebrate him.

Without the twins, the gin and tonics kept coming, the sloppy make out session on the VIP area of the club as if you were teenagers again, his front pressed against your back as he tried to impress you with his best moves, only to earn a couple of drunken giggles and peck on the lips.

Things were starting to quiet down, lots of people had already left to their hotel room, but you and Max were on a world of your own, with you sitting on top of him, but the moment you started feeling his lips ghosting against your neck, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your hip.

and you knew it was time to go.

Bahrain, 2024

Max didn’t remember being so excited for race day. Yes, he was anxious for the new season, but the highlight of his day was seeing you getting ready, a loose blouse and white jeans accentuating the noticeable belly of six months of pregnancy, which was a complete surprise to everyone.

You entered the paddock through the main entrance, with photographers everywhere and Kym Ilman greeting your family, because the scene was worth more than a couple thousand likes on Instagram: you were holding Mila’s hand who in return was holding Luca’s, while Max walked with his arm protectively around your belly.

The twins weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of having a baby brother or sister, a fact they made clear by asking every day if there was any chance to stop the baby from coming home eventually, telling you and Max that they were more than okay having the cats. Sadly, they were the only ones

“No! No! No! Is that why you went MIA on social media? Oh my God look at this bump! Congratulations you two,” Lily let go of Alex’s hand to give you a tight hug as Alex congratulated Max with a couple of pats on the back.

The scene repeated itself with most drivers on the grid, who didn’t ask how far along you were, but were able to deduce the situation. Until…

“How far along are you?” Charles asked you as he held Luca on his arms, letting him mess with his hair.

You blushed and Max’s chest puffed as if he has been waiting for the question. “I’m a couple of days away from the six months mark,”

Charles looked as if he was doing a very specific and difficult math problem as his girlfriend, Alexandra, stares at him with a faint blush on her cheeks, probably since she has always been more reserved around you because she was younger, but she was impatiently waiting for her boyfriend to catch on the situation.

“This is a 2023 season baby?” Charles asked.

“Looks like it,” Max answered with a smug smile on his face, but in reality it was an excited grin which reached his blue eyes.

“No…” Charles jaw dropped and had to put Luca on the floor.

“No what?” Max counter asked, even if he knew the answer. This time he started drawing mindless shapes on the clothes over your swollen stomach.

“Max… is this your championship child?” Charles whispered, shocked.

“What can I say? Winning on and off the track!”

And Charles almost passed out as both you and Max laughed, beaming while interlacing your fingers over your belly, knowing cameras wouldn’t catch you there.

user1: Max knocked y/n up the night of the third championship change my mind

user2: Max Verstappen pulled a k-mag and I respect that

user3: do we know the birthday of the verstappen twins? Asking for a friend

user4: y/n and max will have a full kindergarten if they have a kid every time he wins the championship💀

user5: are we really surprised after those videos leaked of max squeezing her ass while they were celebrating the 3rd wdc

user6: if the maths are mathing this baby will be born around the Monaco gp. GODS PLAN

[rinsoap]

THEM AS YOUR BOYFRIEND!

includes : ken ryuguji and baji keisuke. they are in their late teens/early 20s.

note : UR WELCOME TO THE FOURTEEN REQS IN MY INBOX BEGGING FOR BAJI CONTENT! i was gonna write mitsuya and mikey but i got tired lol

ken ryuguji as your boyfriend.

he loves taking you out on his bike. he likes how you hold him so tightly, and he likes the feeling of your cheek pressed against his back. when you first asked him, he was a little wary at first because he was kind of scared you might get hurt, but who was he to say no to his girl?

the girls at the brothel fucking love you. you exchange makeup tips and self care remedies, they pinch your cheek and tell you how cute you are. "hi love, what are you doing here looking so pretty!? ain't she pretty, kenny? yeahh he thinks so, look at him, he's blushing" "'course i think she's pretty, i'm the one dating her" oh and they love to give you life advice too; men, money, independance, all of it. draken is embarassed by how they act, but you think it's sweet.

he hates being posted to your socials. he's cool with it if his face isn't in the picture, but he values his privacy. his own social media presence is practically nonexistent, other than one highlight with one story from your birthday of you holding flowers he got you. the song he posted to you is my girl by the temptations.

though he likes his privacy, he does like pda. not intense pda, it's not like y'all have your tongues down each other's throats in public or anything, but he likes a lil kiss here n there. his arm around your waist, or your fingers intertwined with his. a kiss on your shoulder, and always one on your lips before you part. and while he doesn’t typically like to make a scene, when he misses you its a whole different story. he loves when you run to him when you see him after being away from each other for far too long, throwing your arms around his shoulders and his wrap around your waist to spin you around, peppering the side of your face with kisses as you tell him how much you missed him through giggles. "missed you too, angel," a kiss on your jaw. "i'm sorry i've been so busy lately," a kiss on your cheek "'m gonna make it up to you though, i promise." a kiss on your lips. yeah, it's that kind of pda.

he will call you so many pet names, it's not even funny. they're out of his mouth before he even realizes it. it's not like he hides his loving side exactly, it's just that with you, he gets to be a whole other type of gushy. his friends make fun of him whenever they get a glimpse of his softer side when he speaks to you, but he does not care!!! he'll never stop calling you his pretty princess or kissing your cheek or holding all your bags when you go shopping just because his friends think he's whipped. he would happily admit that they're right!!

baji keisuke as your boyfriend.

he may come across as cold, but make no mistake, physical touch is his love language. he always finds himself gravitating to touching you, even in public. whether he's holding your hand or resting his head on your shoulder or tracing hearts and stars into the skin of your thigh, he just wants to touch you!!! in private, it is so much more egregious. he'll be on top of you, attacking you with kisses, hands roaming over your skin. he loves when you sleep over because then he can extend his time to cuddle with you. he likes little spoon and big spoon equally, he just wants SOMEONE to be held!!!

he has and will fight someone for you, absolutely no question. he doesn't exactly get jealous, you express how much you love him enough for him to have interalized it, but he does let a threat or two slip out when a man's flirting with you right in front of him. when someone is being creepy to you, yes, he has been known to throw a couple punches. he'll stop when you ask!! its not like he's batshit!!!! when he's finished, you tend to his wounds. muttering about how stupid he is but giving him a kiss to his temple.

he knows how obsessed you are with his hair. he watches you from the corner of his eye, staring lip tucked between your teeth as he puts it up. he complains, but he secretly loves it. "man you treat me like some slut" "true i'm just using you for your hair. one day you'll wake up bald and i'll be half way across the country with a ziploc bag full of your beautiful hair" "i hate you" he loves lying on top of you, cheek pressed against your chest as you run your fingers through your hair. he always ends up mumbling how much he loves you when your fingers find their way into his hair. he also lets you play around with different hairstyles too! his favourite will always be a half up half down moment :p

he calls you bro more than actual pet names tbh. generally, he doesn't use a lot of pet names because he'd rather call you by your name, but when he's being extra sweet or when he's tired, he'll use them. you love how cute he is when he's about to fall asleep, he starts going on and on about how much he loves his pretty girl. "soo sweet to me, love you soo much... my lovely girl... my love" he'll whisper into your neck, not even knowing exactly what he's saying himself as his eyes slowly flutter shut. when he's in a good mood he'll greet you with a lil "hey baby" or "hello perfect beautiful girlfriend" bc he's annoying like that 😞

he can ALWAYS tell when something is wrong. a clench of your jaw or a slight falter in your eyes, he immediately knows. he'll ask about it as soon as he picks up on it. he's surprisingly very good at comforting. he'll listen as long as you need him to, he'll give you a temple kiss, a gesture that quickly became a sign of love and understanding in your relationship. he'll kiss you on one, then the other, and add "to ease your mind." and you laugh because it's corny, and he rolls his eyes and claims he's never doing a nice thing for you again, but he grabs your hand to take you out to eat because he knows food is the best comfort.

[cxrdycxps]

And They Were Room Mates • Abby Anderson

☢️ Owen and Mel bashing • pwp basically • reader really enjoys giving Abby head • pussy worship babyyyy • swearing • talking about masturbation ☢️

Main Masterlist • Abby Anderson Masterlist

Your bedroom door opened and Abby slammed it shut behind her, stalking forward to collapse on your bed. You pushed your headphones off and put the lid back on your highlighter. “Hi Abby, how are you? Would you like to come into my room, Abby? Make yourself comfortable.”

Abby grabbed your soft pillow and shoved her face into it and screamed. You stared at her in horror when she took a deep breath and screamed again. “Should I call a priest? Do we need an excorcist?”

“You need to stop humping your fucking pillows. I can smell your cunt on this one.” You stared at Abby when she tossed your pillow away and turned over to stare at your ceiling.

“Firstly, it’s my pillow. I’ll do what I want with it. Secondly, how the fuck do you know what any part of me smells like?” You snapped at her, mortified by her comments. “Get the fuck out and scream into your own pillows.”

“Mel is pregnant.” You stared at her, still off balance from her earlier comments. You weren’t sure why her best friend being pregnant was such a scream worthy event. Or why it resulted in her coming in to bully you in your own room. “It’s Owen’s.”

“Oh fuck.” You couldn’t stop yourself. You covered your mouth once the words were out but Abby was already staring at you, nodding her head.

“Yeah. He fucked her on our three day break.” Abby laughed bitterly and you stood from your desk to sit on the edge of the bed, taking one of her large hands in yours to console her. “Well, he fucked her for our three day break. Then decided he missed me.”

“To be fair, Mel’s a whiny bitch. I wouldn’t have chosen her over you either.” You told her honestly and she rolled her eyes at you. “And it may be personal opinion but you are hotter than her.”

You lived with Abby in shared accommodation just off campus. She had lived here with her friend Manny last year but he had graduated so she had posted the listing. You had been desperate to escape on campus accommodation and jumped at the chance to live in an apartment with your own bedroom and bathroom.

Neither of you crossed paths often, usually coming and going at complete opposite times. She woke early to go to the gym, you worked late at a bar down town. You both had classes all day and she spent a lot of time in Owen’s apartment.

You had moments like this. Pockets of overlap where you found time to get to know each other. You had met her friend group in passing, she had met yours. You had met Owen, she had accidentally met one or two of the girls you had hooked up with in the past while they left the next morning.

You had accidentally propositioned her while drunk once. It was a long running joke at this point.

“You only want me for my body.” Abby sighed and you shrugged, laying back beside her so you were both staring at the ceiling. “My best fucking friend.”

“You should probably get a new one of those. I’ll be your best friend. I’m pretty cool.” You assured her, nudging her shoulder with yours. “I can be your best fucking friend, too. You just have to take me up on my offer.”

“What do you- oh. Best fucking friend. I get it. Smart.” She huffed a dry laugh while you giggled at yourself. “They barely ever even talked!”

“Maybe for good reason?” You asked and she turned so she was looking at you. You copied her and your faces were only a couple of inches apart. “Maybe he wanted to dick her down since day one.”

“You’re not helping.” Abby turned back to stare at the ceiling and you shrugged.

“If I’m being honest, I get why you’re mad or whatever. I just think it’s a waste of your energy. Mel has the personality of the contents of the bottom of the sink after the dishes have been done. Owen micromanaged you and you let him. What are you actually loosing?” Abby probably didn’t want you to be honest but you didn’t typically have another session. “The sex didn’t even sound good.”

“Better than your pillow.” Abby quipped back and you laughed.

“My pillow made me cum every time. Can you say the same for Owen?” You asked her and she grunted in answer which made you laugh, the bed shaking with your movements. “What were you actually getting out of the relationship?”

“He was there for me. When my dad died.” Abby told you and you sighed heavily, clasping her hand in yours. “He got me through that.”

“So he’s not a complete waste of space. People outgrow each other, Abs.” You told her quietly. “You outgrew him a long time ago.”

“I’ve been with him since I was fourteen. How do I let go of seven years?” She asked with a sigh and you shrugged. In truth, you had no clue.

“Go out and fuck someone else. Get a new hobby? Maybe egg his house. Or her house. Or just egg something.” Abby laughed wetly. You didn’t look at her, not closely. She needed a moment so you let her have it. “You can borrow my pillow?”

///

“Got someone looking for you out front.” You were stood in the kitchen, attempting to eat quickly while chatting to the grouchy head chef. Joel didn’t really say much but you knew he had a soft spot for you. He had even tried to set you up with his daughter once. He always made sure to set something aside for you to eat.

“Tell ‘em to fuck off.” You snapped and Joel coughed to disguise his laugh. Dina, Joel’s daughter’s current girlfriend, threw her hands up.

“Do I look like a fucking messenger girl? Get back out on the bar anyway, Jesse is drowning out there.” Jesse, Dina’s ex boyfriend, worked the bar with you most nights. He was a shit bartended though and you ended up doing double the work.

“You ever think about how incestuous this restaurant staff is?” You asked Joel, shoving the last few fries into your mouth. Tess, the line cook, laughed at you and you narrowed your eyes at her. “I know you two have been fucking in the store room.”

Joel barked your name when Tess ducked her head and you skipped out of the kitchen, returning to the bar to find it was three deep. You sighed, tying your apron and pasting on a smile.

“You should fucking quit.” You elbowed Jesse who only shrugged at you, pouring drinks. You waved at people to start shouting orders at you, checking ID along with starting tabs.

By the time the rush had moved off you found your caller sitting at the end of the bar. Abby was nursing a beer, two shots of tequila next to her with all the fixings.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” You asked her with a grin. She looked up from her phone and blinked at you before gesturing to the shots. “For me?”

“It’s sad doing them alone and I need some courage.” She told you honestly and you tilted your head. “Time to get back out there, right?”

It had been two months since she came to your room to scream and you had been worried about how well she was handling everything. This was a good sign.

You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled the salt over the wet patch. Abby copied you and you held up your shot to her. “To you getting your pussy ate.”

She didn’t repeat the cheers, rolling her eyes. She did drink though and you took that as a good sign while sucking on the wedge of lime. You looked up when your name was called and found Maria, the manager on tonight, glaring at you. “She bought it for me. It’s good customer service, Maria.”

“Get back to work.” You gestured around to remind her that you were in fact behind the bar, no current customers in sight. She narrowed her eyes at you and moved off to complain about you to the servers. Dina would agree cause she didn’t like that you had fucked Ellie, Joel’s daughter, before she had. She also was Maria’s favorite because she was Ellie’s aunt.

The whole system made your head hurt and you swigged from Abby’s beer to chase the flavor of the tequila on your tongue. “Don’t fucking backwash.”

“Come on, Abby. Admit it, you wanna swap bodily fluids with me.” You leaned forward on the bar and her eyes dipped to look down your blouse. You always left it one button too low to increase tips. “Abby Anderson, are you looking at my tits?”

“You know I am. Hard not to when they’re as good as in my face.” Abby sighed and you grinned, delighted with her honesty. “Don’t worry, I’ll tip well.”

“You know what, Anderson?” You asked her. You looked up when a customer shouted an order at you and you took the lid off the beer sliding it over to him. “If you strike out tonight, I’ll eat your pussy myself.”

You left Abby to consider your words when the next wave began and you dove into the fray to serve them. When you looked back she was gone, a signed receipt and a tip tucked under her beer mat. You laughed and cleared her bottle and pocketed the tip.

///

When you got back to the apartment you were surprised to find Abby still up, sitting on the sofa. With the television playing. You kicked off your shoes and swung by the kitchen, grabbing yourself and her a beer.

“You cleared out early.” You remarked, tossing yourself down next to her on the cushions. You held both beers out and scrunched your eyes shut when she opened them with her teeth. “Strike out?”

“Got a better offer.” She answered and you let your head fall to the side so you could look at her. “Why would I hang around when you already made me a promise?”

“What promise was that, Abby?” You asked her with a sly smile. Abby rarely swore unless she was really worked up and you wanted to set her on edge.

“You know what you promised.” Abby huffed, cheeks pink. You stared at her and brought your bottle up to your lips, taking a long drink. You didn’t speak and she began to fidget. “If you weren’t serious then-”

“Abby, I’ve wanted a taste of you since like thirty seconds after signing the lease.” You laughed and she turned a darker red in her cheeks. The color was creeping down towards her neck. “I’ve literally dreamed about having your thighs either side of my head.”

“You’re such a fucking-” Abby shook her head but you only grinned at her frustration. She hadn’t been with women before, you knew that much. She had realized she was interested in them when she started college but she had loved Owen.

You rolled your eyes and handed her your bottle. You stretched your arms up in the air and shook off the exhaustion of your late shift before standing and moving kneel between Abby’s spread legs. “Time to let me see what’s under these cargos and by the way, if it looks like I’m suffocating? Leave me there. Death by your pussy is such a good way to go.”

Abby was laughing now, too used to your humor to be embarrassed anymore. You helped unbutton her trousers and pull them down. You paused and swallowed, wondering why the simple boxers under her cargos made your own pussy pulse in arousal. Why did her thick thighs look so much hotter than any other woman you had ever been with?

“Later, once you recover from the orgasm I’m about to give you, I’m riding your thigh. I don’t even care if this is a one time thing. I need to experience that.” You babbled, pulling on the hem of her boxer shorts and finally exposing her to you.

“Oh fuck.” You breathed, closing your eyes for a moment. Abby Anderson ticked all your boxes but right now it was like she had read every deep thought you’d ever had. You were the first to advocate for people grooming themselves however they deemed fit but the patch of coarse curls that you had just uncovered made you groan.

Abby had a fat cunt, something you could bury your face in. You spread her thighs with your palms and leaned forward, licking up her slit to find her clit. It was swollen with arousal but when you pulled back you could see the raw abuse on it. “You’ve been playing with yourself.”

Abby groaned, her head back against the couch. Some of her embarrassment was returning as she arched her hips upwards to you. “Tell me you were playing with your clit while thinking of me.”

“Obviously,” Abby grunted and you rewarded her with a firm suck to the sensitive bundle of nerve endings. She moaned and you were proud to note you’d never heard that noise coming from her room when her and Owen had fucked. Quiet as they had tried to be. “Had to take the edge off after watching you in the bar. You’re so fucking competent, bouncing around with your tits out.”

You didn’t speak, choosing instead to spit against her clit and listened to her moans to let you know what she enjoyed. You pulled her thighs and she shuffled out to the edge of the sofa, her fingers grasping at your hair.

It was when you were licking into her, your nose against her clit, that the door opened. The pair of you froze, directly in the sight line of Owen who stood at the door. “Abby, what the fuck?”

It seemed like a private conversation so you looked away, nudging your nose against her clit again. She moaned, her head back against the sofa. “Leave the key.”

You hummed against her hole and her fingers tightened against you. Owen tossed the keys on the entry way table and retreated. You pulled away to call out to him. “If you wait a minute or so you can hear what it sounds like when Abby actually cums.” He slammed the door and Abby’s hoarse laugh was cut off when you returned your attention to her clit.

You used your tongue to push back the clitoral hood and pay special attention to the most sensitive part of her. The almost red skin contracted when you licked at it firmly and Abby lost all pretenses, an actual scream falling from her mouth when she came.

You kind of hoped he was still listening.

[creamecafe]

Fate by "Design" | Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader

Summary: While doing art in a subway, the Salesman offers you to play Ddakji, a chance to win money. But you wanted his number. When you win, your acquaintance with the salesman becomes much more.

Pairing: Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, flirting, allusions to smut/sex, but not explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Author's Note: This was requested by Crazy4herluv on my Wattpad book Squid Game Imagines/One-Shots. This is also my first Salesman work, so I hope you enjoy!

*Icon used for this header above that I made in PicsArt is from Pinterest. Divider is from @cafekitsune in this post*

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

The sounds of the almost isolated subway and people walking is the highlight of your daily routine. You had moved to Korea to work for a art company and you do sketches by hand.

It paid very good money but in your free time you liked to be in the subway and do art for others like New York. People would walk and stop to see what you possibly could be doing.

A lot of the time, couples, parents with their kids or even old people would ask for a drawing each day and you get paid at least $130-200 at the end of the day.

Your art simply consisted of charcoal sketches of the person who requested for the art as semi-realistic as possible with a watercolor splash in the back if they ask.

Sometimes you notice while you're drawing or sketching away looking for people to draw, you would see a man in a black suit.

He had black hair and was always carrying a suitcase with him. He was also very handsome, you thought. When you took the time to actually analyze him or look at him, not in a creepy way you thought, you noticed that he would throw something on the ground and slap people.

This guy must be insane, you thought. Slapping people everyday, but it didn't stop you wondering who he really was. You thought of going up to him and asking if he would like his own portrai. But you were nervous of asking such a good looking guy and you are an artist in the subway, so he was way out of your league.

Today felt like any other day. Until one person, the guy in the black suit came up to you. You were going to pack up for the day when you accidentally dropped pencils and other supplies on the floor, then rolled around. As you were on the ground picking up the supplies, you saw polished black shoes stop and turn in front of you.

You look up and see him. The guy in the black suit looks down at you while you're trying to pick up your stuff.

"Good evening ma'am. I have a question for you."

You got up from the floor and brushed off the germs from yourself from the subway ground.

"Hello sir. I finished my hours for the day drawing so I can't accept any art requests right now I'm sorry. You could always come back tomorrow if you like."

"I'm not asking for a drawing. I'm asking if you would like to play a game."

A game? Is this guy Billy the puppet you thought?"

"What game?" You asked?

"It's called Ddakji. Have you heard of it before?"

Ddakji. It should sound familiar but you felt like you don't know it.

"I don't think so. What is it?"

"It's very simple. You fold two pieces of paper, usually of bright colors as it's a children's game like an envelope and the goal is to throw down the paper as hard as you can so the other person's paper flips over."

"What's the point of playing the game?"

"If you win, I'll give you money. A hundred thousand won."

Your eyes widened at what he said. A hundred thousand won? That amount of money to get while doing art in a subway could take a year or two. Yet here's this handsome well kept money offering to you.

"And if I lose?"

"Well usually I slap people until they win or just give up." That explains why you see this man in the subway grounds slapping people and throwing stuff down.

"But seeing how creative you are. How about a portrait of me? Use all your creativity and imagination you can and give me something."

"Ok. I'll play. But I can change something?"

"What is it?" He turns his head to express curiosity. It's rare that people would ask for a change of things while playing, conducting he's the one in charge.

"If I win, I get to have your number."

The salesman is surprised at your boldness to ask him out.

"My number? You could walk out with a hundred thousand won. What could my number offer to you?"

"Well I might see a better prize than money. I see a real piece of art right here." You raised your eyebrow smirking

He smirks at you. This was going to be interesting he thought.

"We have an agreement then?"

You nodded. "I lose, you get a portrait. But if I win..."

"You get my number." The salesman nods smiling. "Five in a row you have to win." He then pulls out two colored orgami tiles of red and blue from his suit jacket.

"What color would you like?"

"Red/blue" you said.

"Alright then. Ladies first."

You look at him and then the ground. 10 in a row you can do this. You took a deep breath and slammed the envelope on the ground. The guy then slams his envelope on the ground flipping yours around.

It created a loud slapping sound and echoed that it startled you. You look up scared he was lying to his word and might actually slap you. You close your eyes and prepare for it.

"What are you doing?" The salesman asks

"Aren't you going to slap me?"

"You don't have to worry. I wouldn't slap a pretty face like yours. I only want a drawing."

Opening your eyes you took a deep breath. At least you wouldn't be slapped.

"1-0" The guys says. You assumed that was his keeping score

You pick up your envelope and roll up your sleeve. You threw it down but it didn't flip the salesmans. He picked his up and slammed it down flipping yours again.

"2-0". Now the chances of getting this guys number seems low and you might look like a fool. You were weren't to give up just yet. You relied on your skills of carrying an easel and so many supplies per day to the game.

Taking a deep breath, you slam down the card and it flipped the guys. You were smiled wanting to jump for joy.

"2-1" You put up 2 fingers with one hand and 1 finger to the guys face.

He said nothing but smirked. Talking wasn't his thing, you noticed. Probably why you found him attractive.

The salesman picks up his card and slams it and your flips over. It was a continuous picking up and flipping cards. You were getting better as the points were getting higher.

Now the score was "7-8". You were becoming tired and kinda wish you were home right now, sleeping. But

The salesman threw down his card and flipped yours. Now it was 8-8. A tie. Just two more and you get his number. You threw yours down and it flipped over. 8-9. Another slam from the guy and it was 9-9.

This was it. You weren't sure you would have enough energy to draw that portrait of his that he wanted. But you needed enough energy to finish this game.

You slammed it down and saw it flipped over. I won, you thought to yourself. Did I actually win? You thought.

"Congratulations. You won ma'am." The salesman smiled.

Those words felt unreal. "Yes! Yes!" You jumped around happy.

"Now, you asked for my number. I suppose you wouldn't have a piece of paper to write down my number, would you?"

What kind of question was that? You were a artist. Blank papers is all you carry. You grab your sketchbook from your bag and a pen to give to him.

He took it from your hands and wrote down his number fast. He gave it back to you and you saw it.

"What do you plan to do with that number, Miss?"

"I was wondering maybe you want to go out?"

"We can do that. Can I pick the place?"

It was the least you could let him do as he offered you money and kept true to his word to give you his money.

"Sure. I'll text you when I'm available. I might see you here too. Who knows?"

He nodded your response smiling.

"You have a good day madam"

"You too" God how you loved how formal he was and calling you madam and ma'am, even though you weren't really that old.

When you went home, you were exhausted but still smiling and excited that you got the guy's number. You texted your name so he could have yours saved as well. You went to bed, wondering what it could lead to. Possibly just one date or even more.

The next day, was the same thing. Wake up, eat breakfast, pack your things and head to the subway. You kept fixing yourself up for the salesman, wondering if he would come by.

He always comes by, you thought. He just has to. You scanned around the subway to see where he is as you didn't want to move your spot. After an hour had passed, it looked like he hadn't been around.

Maybe asking for his number was a bad idea, that he was avoiding to talk to you, you thought. A man walked by and dropped something not that far from you. It looked like money. Seeing this you get up, pick up the bill and try to call out for the man. But it looked like he was already gone. It was

Written in a black permanent marker, it says “Look at your phone ma’am”. Without thinking you check your phone and see a message. Meet me at the park at 4:30 PM. No need to dress so fancy but wear something you feel pretty in.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you couldn’t believe what’s in front of you, more likely what’s on your phone. He’s actually texting you. The weird quiet but handsome black suit guy is texting you. You packed your things and went home and went to get ready to meet him in the park.

It was nothing special that you wore. Just a simple sundress/pantsuit but it was still one of the nicest outfits you had in your wardrobe. You kept wondering just what the man in plan for you. Walking around the park, you see the man still in his suit, hands in front looking around, possibly waiting for you, you thought.

Smiling, you walk up to him. When he sees you, he smiles with no teeth but still showing joy. He reaches out a hand. Looking at it hesitantly, you took his hand. The salesman then took your hand, bowed a little and kissed the back of your hand gently. You felt your heart skipped a beat when he did that.

“Hello ma’am. We meet again.”

“Hi. Were you the person that gave me the bill?”

“Maybe, a beautiful woman like you deserves more.”

Was this a dream? Were you dreaming or is this real. This man seemed to good to be true. You two walked to what would be your first date. The place he picked out for the first date was an art museum. It displayed the finest arts across the worlds and many different paintings. The salesman would ask about each piece and how did it make you feel. You responded to many of his questions but kept looking around. You guys kept talking and asking each other questions to get more acquainted with each other.

After the museum, he took you a some place to eat. Then you guys went to get ice cream. He paid for everything and asked if there’s anywhere else you would like to go. If you tried to pull out your card or even cash to pay for your own things, he would refuse so and said he got everything and that anything you wanted he’ll get for you. It had been late, so he dropped you off home and asked how was everything and if you enjoyed it.

You couldn’t thank him enough for the wonderful day you had comparison to just drawing in a subway for hours. Before you left his car, there was a slight tension between you guys that it could be cut with a knife. The man wanted to say something else but couldn’t stop looking at your lips. Looking at him, you see his hands reach towards your face and cup it as his lips softly touches yours.

His lips were so baby smooth and his cologne was so sharp from his neck, it felt like a gas hyptonixjg you. You cup his face, grazing it with your thumb. He pulls away, still looking at you with such yearning. Your thumb still on his face grazed his lips as you said goodbye and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Ever since that night, you two have been dating. He would take you on dates to other places. Mostly just walks in the park or art related stuff that you like. Your small kisses would turn into small makeouts into something more. He would sometimes, well mostly go over to your place and sleep over. In the mornings he would make breakfast in his underwear. You wish you could draw him right then and there.

He loves to pose for your art or whatever reference you need for your assignment in class. Once a month, he'll take you out to the art store to get whatever supplies you need. Your messy clothing consisted of paint or oil pastel stains is opposite of his clean, ironed and steamed suit. But he loves it either way.

The only time that he was out of the suit was when he was in bed with you. But other than that, you wanted him to be a bit more fun. You wanted to him have more color. Seeing those videos of online of couples doing painting of each others to see both of your art skills.

You begged the salesman to do wit you and he finally agrees. Squealing you get everything ready, canvas, paints, brushes, water and paper towels. You had 10 minutes to try to get each other’s features as accurate as possible

Time passes and both of you guys are done. You show your art of him and it’s him in his suit, pretty accurate and semi realistic but some details were missing. He nods and says it’s impressive of how much you can get done in less than hour.

You ask for his painting and he turns his Canva around and you see you in an almost renaissance like painting. Your mouth dropped and all felt like years of your art skills go away to just 10 minutes.

“What! How’s that even possible? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at art?”

“Well two people can’t be the artists in a relationship. One has to be a muse, to inspire the other.”

You scoffed at his bullshit. He just didn’t want to brag. An idea came in your mind. You grab a paintbrush and leave a stroke of red paint on his face.

“If you want to be a muse, why don’t you have some color on you?”

Smirking, the salesman takes this as a challenge and grabs his paint brush and paints across your face too.

Now you guys were having a paint battle. You tried to paint him more but he lightly grabs your arm and stops you. He leads you the floor, where he’s now on top of you. Seeing this as an opportunity, you grab a bottle of paint that’s open and smeared on his white shirt. He laughs at this and rolls you over where you’re now on top of him, straddling him.

Nothing was said between you both as you kept looking at each other. Like that night of your first date when you guys first kissed. Putting your head down you kiss him and he put his arms around on your back. The paint on your guys’ face mixed with each other. Breath was running out so you decided to stop. Your heart was beating so much just as he was trying to catch his breath too.

Now you’re forever grateful you asked for his number then taking the money. It’s a better reward than what the salesman had to offer you, as you got him, yourself. It felt like a dream come true. Even if it was, you didn’t want to wake up. Everything of being with him was like straight art. Maybe it was meant to be. That day you accidentally dropped your pencils and he came up to you. It could be called fate by others. Fate by design you like to call it.

He was right, one has to be the muse in a relationship and the other an artist. But to him, it was the thing he was missing the most. An new reason to be in the subway that fateful day.

Taglist:

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[midnight-shadow-cafe]

A Cut Above

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader AU: Butcher Simon

Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, nervous Simon, reader loves food, domestic vibes, minor language. Authors Note: I loved adding more heartfelt details to this one! Thank you for inspiring such a sweet story. 💜 Masterlist Part 2 MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The little bell above the shop door jingled softly, its cheerful chime breaking the stillness of the late afternoon. Simon Riley instinctively glanced up from the butcher counter, a habit he’d developed over years of working behind it. But the moment he saw you step inside, his heart did something it rarely did—flutter.

You were a sight for sore eyes, as usual. Bundled in your favorite coat, a knitted scarf loosely draped around your neck, you brought a warmth into the shop that rivaled the heating system.

“Afternoon, Simon,” you greeted, your voice soft yet sunny.

“Afternoon,” Simon replied, his usual gruff tone carrying a faint gentleness he reserved just for you.

You made your way to the counter, your eyes scanning the neatly displayed cuts of meat. “You’ve outdone yourself with the arrangement again,” you teased, pointing to the precisely stacked rows of steaks and chops.

Simon huffed a quiet chuckle. “Gotta make it look good for the customers.”

“Oh, come on,” you said with a grin. “You know I’m not just any customer.”

Simon swallowed hard, his gaze flickering away for a moment. You had no idea how true that was.

“What can I get you today?” he asked, focusing on the task at hand to steady himself.

“I feel like trying something different,” you mused, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “What do you recommend?”

Simon considered your question, his brows furrowing slightly as he pondered. “Got some lamb chops in this morning. Fresh, tender. Thought about taking a couple home myself.”

“Sold,” you said, your smile lighting up the room. “I’ll take two.”

As Simon wrapped them carefully, his large hands moved with practiced precision. He found himself lingering over the task, not quite ready for your visit to end.

When you handed him the cash, your fingers brushed his—a fleeting touch that sent warmth spreading up his arm. You didn’t seem to notice, but Simon? He was certain he’d never forget it.

Simon couldn’t quite pinpoint when it started, but you’d become the highlight of his week. He’d catch himself glancing at the clock in the late afternoons, hoping for the telltale jingle of the bell that meant you’d arrived.

He started setting aside little things he thought you might like—an extra-thick cut of steak, a special seasoning blend, even a handwritten recipe for the perfect roast. Each offering was met with your delighted smile and effusive thanks, and each time, Simon felt his resolve to keep his feelings to himself falter just a little more.

Until one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the shop stood quiet save for the hum of the fridge, Simon decided to take a chance.

“You’ve got a knack for cooking,” he said, his voice steady despite the nervous energy coiled tight in his chest.

“Thanks,” you replied, your surprise evident but not unkind. “I’ve had plenty of practice. Why do you ask?”

Simon cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Thought maybe… you’d let me cook for you sometime. If you’d like.”

For a moment, the shop felt impossibly still. Simon’s heart pounded in his ears, every second of your silence stretching into an eternity.

Then, you smiled. Not just any smile—the kind that crinkled the corners of your eyes and made his chest ache in the best way.

“I’d love that, Simon,” you said, your voice warm and sincere.

----

When you arrived at Simon’s flat, you were met with a comforting warmth and the rich, savory scent of cooking. Simon greeted you at the door, his usual black apron swapped for a crisp button-down that suited him more than he realized.

“Come in,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Hope you’re hungry.”

The dining nook was modest but charming, a small table set with candles and a simple bouquet of fresh flowers.

“This is beautiful,” you said, touched by the effort.

Simon rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up his ears. “Figured you deserved somethin’ nice.”

In the kitchen, Simon moved with quiet confidence, his hands deftly handling the stovetop as he plated braised lamb chops and roasted vegetables. He poured you a glass of wine, his hand brushing yours as he set it down.

Dinner was nothing short of incredible. Each bite was a revelation, the flavors perfectly balanced and cooked with care.

“This is amazing, Simon,” you said between bites. “You’ve got serious talent.”

“Just glad you like it,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer than usual.

The conversation flowed as easily as the wine, Simon opening up in ways he never had before. He told you about his childhood, his dry humor catching you off guard and making you laugh until your cheeks ached.

When the meal was over, Simon disappeared into the kitchen and returned with dessert—shortbread cookies he’d baked himself.

“These are perfect,” you said, savoring the buttery sweetness. “You remembered I mentioned these, didn’t you?”

Simon shrugged, his blush returning. “Might’ve stuck in my head.”

As the night stretched on, the two of you found yourselves on the sofa, a blanket draped over your shoulders as you talked for hours. For the first time in a long while, Simon felt a deep, unshakable contentment.

When it was time to say goodbye, he walked you to your car, his hand lingering on yours as you climbed inside.

“Thank you for tonight, Simon,” you said, your voice soft. “It was perfect.”

“Goodnight, love,” he murmured, his heart full as he watched you drive away.

As he turned back toward his flat, Simon couldn’t help but smile. He’d taken a chance, and it had been worth every nerve-wracking second.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

Part 2

[swampjawn]

Like the goofy horror crossover that inspired it (Sadako vs Kayako) Dandadan's identity is all about smashing together the identities of its many eclectic inspirations. (most notably of course, ghostststs vs aliens)

So how does its opening embody that identity? Well of course the song itself is swarming with references to everything from a couple Japanese creepypastas from 2chan to Demon Slayer and other popular shounen hits, to M. Night Shyamalan — but not to be left out, the formal elements of the animation combine not only the bold and sharply contrasting color schemes that are characteristic of the show, but also three completely different animation styles into one strangely cohesive piece.

Directed by "Scott Pilgrim Takes Off" director and one of Science Saru's original creative voices, Abel Góngora, the opening sets the stage with the contrast between these close-ups of the syllable "dan" shown mostly on various digital screens, and these character shots that give the impression of analog film with soft edges between highlight and shadow, and overlaid grain, scratches, and imperfections.

These cuts are not exactly realistic per se, but they reflect a version of the world of the show that's very grounded in live-action cinematic techniques, like I discussed in my previous video. Many of them mimic a wide-angle perspective and give the impression of a real camera filming the characters.

Soon though, we jump into these highly stylized cuts in which bold, textured silhouettes stand out against saturated painted backgrounds.

This style in particular feels very characteristic of Góngora, who has worked on many of Science Saru's opening sequences, and seems to love these stark, stylized, and textured silhouettes:

Many of these shots are direct references to the 1967 Ultraman TV opening,

but they also generally draw inspiration from 60s and 70s pop art and cut-out animation. Slight imperfections in the credit text and slight camera wobble even give the impression of hand-cut paper being filmed with an old 60s camera rig!

Turbo Granny gets up in the mix with a third totally different style: these loose, chaotic, and gestural scribbles where clean line-work gives way to pure organic energy with very little consistency between frames.

These cuts are mostly done by Kyouhei Ebata (江端 恭平) (who you might recognize from his crazy painted frames on Dungeon Meshi) and Genta Ishimori (石守 源��) who has relatively few official credits so far, but has done some extremely impressive (if quite disturbing) independent work on his youtube channel, and whose own personal style seems to have primarily created the vision for how Turbo Granny would be portrayed in the show!

And finally, the three art styles and two major opposing colors all come together in this climactic cut as this slick, detailed illustration goes from clean, detailed blue, to bold, chaotic red in an instant as Okarun smashes through it, and is interspersed with these three demonic frames that find a middle ground between the bold textured silhouettes and the loose scratchy turbo granny scribbles.

This is all just a sampling from this video, where I go more in depth on all these elements, and lay out way more of the direct references, so go watch it! (If you're not too scared… Maybe you can't handle it…)

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I'm using the word "ridiculous" a lot

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Dec 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Your Sky (Sun iQIYI) ep 5 of 12 - OMG they’re so fucking cute I can’t stand it. It’s too much. Everyone is adorable. Including the father. (That said, I wouldn’t recommend watching Naughty Babe with your dad. That’s a big leap there, cutie pie.) The 10 minutes of holding hand negotiation and then finally walking together across campus was truly fucking fantastic. This show is GLORIOUS. Now we also know when it finally does move from dreams to reality, that these two can kiss.

Actual name of this show?

How to Train Your Seme

Speaking of names, Fah's brother, whose name I forget, is now going to referred to by me as Sarcastic Cupid. Because that is his role in this narrative. I love him very much.

On a completely different note, and I know this is not that kind of show, but this is me so I have to say it, if these two ever do have sex it’s gonna take them hours. They just gonna spend half the night negotiating. Which is kind of tantric, but my goodness would they even make it into bed?

ThamePo (Fri YT) ep 2 of 12 - i just love this show!!!! so happy to have this one my screen. The dads have to save the little musical family! So cute! And illegally pretty.

Love Sick 2024 (Sun iQIYI) ep 14 of 15 - They substantially took steps to fix Phun‘s dad character in the new version and I really like that a lot. I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here. 

Caged Again (Fri Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Why is this absurd show so damn good? When Sun has to beg it’s just too much. It’s too sweet and aching and hurtful and wonderful. Catnip = the sex herb trope was not anything I’ve ever thought I would see in my lifetime. Okaaay now. Relax little show. Too far.

Fourever You (Thurs YT) ep 12 of 16 - The extended version is clearly better. But I’m not gonna bother to pay for it. Again, I’m liking the new couple more and more each week. I still prefer the first couple of course cause Pond but it’s enjoyable enough.

Note: I'm super grateful for those posting them as clips here on the hellsite. Because man can these boys kiss!

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 4 of 12 - this show is so entirely and utterly ridiculous. I don’t even know what to do with it or myself. Or what to say. Carry on, I guess?

Also I don't know what GMMTV is smoking to tease this one, but I'll take a hit next time they pass the BL bong.

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT?) ep 7 of 24 - I am living for Pond & Sand. they are pretty much all I care about. Yes including the upcoming couples. I just want pond sand. sure the main couple was fine it was a perfectly serviceable ending to their arc such as it was. All in all I enjoyed this episode big smile on my face most of the time.

Secret Love (????) 1-60 of 81 eps - Someone dropped a cut together of episodes one through 60, and I actually quite enjoyed it. It’s a total soap opera and very much a pulp. But I kind of love that right now. Frankly, 1-60 is a completed story arc. If you want that. I will probably watch the whole thing if anybody ever uploads it or it turns up grey anywhere. But this was quite satisfying. Ridiculous but charming fluff about two stepbrothers, who aren’t really stepbrothers, who have loved each other forever and are reunited under trying family circumstances. 7/10 passes the sniff test

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Tues Gaga) ep 7 of 11 - ARGH. The pain. what an absolutely stellar show. I can't believe we are only on ep 7!

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 13 - I love it. This show is fantastic. It’s classic BL, it’s hitting all of the tropes, and it reminds me of some of the best that Taiwan has done in the past. I’m charmed and enjoying it immensely. Taiwan isn’t great on endings so I’m reserving judgment, but what a current highlight to my week. I like these boys so much. Please be kind to me and them, Taiwan?

Eternal Butler (Taiwan Fri Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - Ever 4, a sophisticated AI combat robot, becomes the personal butler/bodyguard to Luo Bu Shi, a spoiled yet lonely young heir. And I like it a lot. Odd with a very old fashioned yaoi feel. Also actually kinky (not Thai kinky), I mean it's no JBL but I like it. Dommed into reading = hot. 

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 12 of ? - I love our new rescuer, he v cute! Nice addition to the cast. I hope we get more of him. Otherwise, this was more of the same. I’m getting pretty fatigued with this bully stuff at this juncture.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 8 end - A lackluster adaptation of some already questionable content, that managed to lose all the limited charm and massive chemistry of the original. It was a mistake to do with less runtime not to mention put both climaxes in the final episode.  Too much all at once. By dividing up the two rescues and keeping them exclusive to their respective couples they highlighted the formulaic nature of the narrative and weakened the foundational friendships. The best thing about the original was the friendships both between the semes and the ukes. By having each boyfriend simply rescue his own boy without help, we didn’t get to see the depth of those friendships at all. For this reason, this installment was weaker than the original. My final feeling at the end was simply “OK whatever” not a ringing endorsement. 7/10 but barely that.

It's airing but......

Spare Me Your Mercy (Thurs iQIYI) ep 5 of 8 - on hold because it went out side genre conventions and I'm not sure what to expect. I'm waiting until it ends, then if safe I will binge.

Be Moon - Falling for my enemy's son (China YT) movie from HBD Studio airing in short bits but I couldn't find any this week.

Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Thai ???) - has been picked up to air on WeTV, or something? Criminals who meet in prison fall in love. I did find it on YouTube, initially un-subbed, then subs happened by which time I got distracted. The first episode seems to be only six minutes long. It is very pulp. But it is intriguing. For now it's to the wayside until someone tells me it landed safely. Occasionally Thai pulps want to be edgy and it's not a good look on them.

0.5D (Japan ????) 4 eps - Supposedly a completed short. "Sales ace, Sada, has a secret that only his junior, Daiki, knows. He has pretended to have a gf for years, resulting in him being a virgin. But now Sada has fallen in love. Confused, Sada seeks advice from his junior." I sense another queer Cyrano De Bergerac. I can't find and it's good very poor review so Imma stop looking. Info here.

The Renovation (Thai mini One31) 2 eps - Writer turns his blossoming romance with holiday resort owner into a novel. Eh is it worth trying to find?

It Ended But?

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun Viki) paused at eps 9-10 of 12 - I have been told the ending is OK if not great. I’m gonna hold off for a bit.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Final still to come:

12/29 Sangmin Dinneaw (Thai ????) ??eps - trailer Childhood friends (Thai & Korean) reunite after being apart for ten years. As the boys reconnect, their bond matures and feelings of romance begin to develop, in Thai.

Impression of Youth (Taiwan ????) ??eps - rumors are this is supposed to start this month.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

10 years later and it's still one of BLs best cuddles (Love Sick)

Always like a seme who asks permission. (Perfect 10)

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[fanofthings20]

Rio Vidal x Reader Angst Request

This was requested by @miraslittlecrow. I hope this story is what you were hoping for! Thank you for the request and the fun challenge, I'm sorry it took me so long to finally posted it and I do apologize if this is a complete disaster!!

All the promtps are highlighted in bold and were created by the amazing and talented @me-writes-prompts

Without further ado, after 14-hour days for 7 straight, internet issues, about 16 rewrites, and changing the prompts about three times here is the story. Until next time farewell and happy Agatha All Along episode 7 night!!

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It was after midnight when a bloody, beaten, and worn-down soul returned home. Trying their hardest to stay silent to not alert their wife now that they were finally home after being delayed for an additional two days than the original eight days that was originally expected. You would have been back two hours ago but you were determined to patch yourself up the best you could so your wife who would no doubt already be worried about the delay, it would only stress her to see injuries and put the lives you just risked everything for in grave danger from her wrath. This is the downside to having the job of a life guardian with protection witch abilities while your wife is Lady Death who is protective and quick to anger.

Turning into the living room has you feeling lightheaded and your using the back of the couch as a crutch to keep yourself upright. You waited for a few minutes till the feeling passed thinking it was safe managing to round to the front of the couch before feeling a wet sensation against your left hand that was holding your right side. Pulling your hand off your side you see that the stitches for that large gash had ripped again and you'd already lost so much blood you barely made it onto the couch before the rest of your strength left you.

Meanwhile, Rio had been forced to collect more souls in the last four days than she would have liked. She would much rather wait at home for y/n to return, given that they were already two days behind their return date. Unfortunately, Death waits for no one, and Rio was super-speeding the process intending to get home faster. Finally, arriving at the house for the last two souls that needed to be collected tonight it happened to be an elderly couple. Rio always enjoyed collecting elderly couples who passed together because it was well deserved. Even though she was in a rush to get home she took her time with this couple getting to know them while providing a smooth transition.

When she returned to the living world she felt a searing pain in her chest at the same time it felt like a soul was close to collection. The searing pain was from the bond with her wife that alone was concerning enough but in occurrence as the death call skyrocketed Rio’s panic and in her rush to get home she teleported to the wrong location twice before finally making it home. Running up the path barreling through the door, and using magic to close the door the house was dark no lights had been turned on. Rio was using their bond to range how close she was to y/n and her ability to adjust to the darkness to rush up the stairs to their bedroom.

Upon crossing the bedroom’s threshold she noticed the room was untouched. Stopping long enough to check the bathroom before she rushed back downstairs, she was on the way to their back porch which was your favorite spot had it not been for the weak whimpering sound you made on the couch from jostling your injury. The sound had her turned around and on her knees at your side in a split second using her magic she turned on the living room lamps which illuminated your state to her. Normally nothing would phase her but your bruised state and the extent of your injuries were unlike any you had ever bared before. She knew the insane risks of your job as a life guardian but had been managing until now but she could no longer put off the conversations she had been withholding from you anymore.

Your voice was so weak when you tried putting on the brave act of “It’s fine, I’m okay-“ but she was quick to gently cut you off with “No you’re not, you’re injured and it’s all their fault!”. She was so sick of the fools who lived without abandon and required a life guardian to keep living. If she could she’d gladly take all their souls in an instant to keep you from harm but she couldn’t break the cycle of life rules without major consequences. If you didn’t require her immediate attention and care to keep you from being the next soul she was forced to collect she would be out that door in a second to give the person you risked everything such a life-altering scare to keep them from needing you ever again.

But you needed her now, especially with the large gash that was gushing blood out. She took out her favorite curved knife to cut your shirt off so she could have full access to your injuries to heal them. When your shirt had been removed and the true extent of your injuries was revealed to her, she was scared that she couldn’t heal it. The gash went from your right side across your abdomen it was deep with significant blood loss your other symptoms included breathing faster than normal, feeling confused and weak, sweating, low body temperature, fast pulse and slowly losing consciousness.

Rio tried to be gentle but she could only go so far when she had to put her hands directly on your wounds to heal it with her magic. Putting pressure on your wounds and the magic closing them again, causing you immense pain that had your already exhausted body past its limit to where your whimpering increased along with your feeble attempts to get away from Rio’s hands. Your rational side knew Rio was helping but you were so confused by the pain and blood loss that you weren’t capable of seeing it as helping. Rio couldn’t take her hands away from your wounds yet so all she could currently offer you were words of love to try and ease your confusion and discomfort.

“Cara Mia, I know it hurts”

“Your going to be okay”

“It’s almost over mi amor”

“We are going to have a long conversation when this is all over”

Rio had finally finished healing your wounds and could take her hands off your abdomen. You had passed out when the wound was halfway through mending. After she checked your heartbeat and breathing status, she walked to the kitchen where she collected a bowl of water and a hand towel to wash both her hands and clean you off the best she could. When you were cleaned off Rio took a few minutes to lay her head over your abdomen to feel you breathing and leave a trail of kisses along where your newest scar lies trying to calm her racing heart and remind herself you were still here with her. There wasn’t much she could offer for blood loss but two potions, food, hydration, and rest.

When she left you this time it was a return trip to the kitchen to clean the bloody bowl and prepare the potions and food. Who knows how long you’ll be passed out for so it was a waiting game for Rio which gave her time to think about one of your earlier interactions and what she wanted to say to you after all these years of holding back. One of her favorite interactions was when you had presumably saved her from a booby-trapped section of the woods. You did not know that she was Death at the time, there had been many interactions between you both throughout the years. You thought she was alluring, irresistible, and you knew this section of the wood was trapped. She had stepped on a hidden pressure plate for the arrow bolt's release, but before one could hit her, she instantly knew it was you. Hell, yall had fucked so many times at this point that you could recognize each other instantly just by your bodies. “You saved me back there…you didn’t have to. You could’ve gotten yourself kille-” (Rio) “I’d always choose you over myself. You should be well aware of that by now, my dear.” (You).

It had caught her off guard how willing you were to always put her first over yourself. Dare she say that made you even sexier in her eyes and so much harder to deny feelings for you anymore. She almost lost you tonight in more ways than one, physically and she would have been forced to take your soul from the living world to the soul realm a place she could never enter. She finished making everything and kept the food warm with her magic going back into the living room carefully lifting your head and sliding in under you. She ran a hand through your hair while the other was holding your wrist keeping track of your heartbeat.

She knew you probably wouldn’t hear or remember this conversation but she needed to say it to you “You know, you don’t have to do this. You don’t always have to stand up for people. I worry that no one will stand up for you in return when the time comes, because they take you for granted. And I hate that.” “Let me help you, please. I can’t stand on the side, quietly staring at all the scars you carry.” She couldn’t stand by anymore in the shadows and let you do this alone, there were only so many years where she’d let you go but now if you ever fully recovered from this she would be at your side from now on.

[meazalykov]

triple shot latte

catarina macario x reader requested

summary: you started to fall in love with the regular at your job

the hum of the espresso machine is something you hear a million times each morning. 

mornings in the cafe are a blend of warm chatter, the soft rustle of newspapers, clicking on the macbooks, and the rhythmic clink of ceramic mugs. you’ve been working here for years, since you were barely out of high school. 

honestly, it’s not just a job to you; it’s a home. the owners, a kind couple in their fifties, treat you like family and pay you well. they’ve often told you that you’re the heart of the place… maybe they’re right.

you know the regulars by name, their orders a second nature to you. 

however, no one catches your attention quite like catarina.

she first walked into the shop six months ago. there was nothing particularly striking about her entrance.. no dramatic flair, no loud greeting. she simply strolled in, wearing a hoodie and joggers, her dark curly hair with blonde highlights tied back in a low ponytail. 

yet, somehow, she stood out. maybe it was the way she carried herself, calm and confident, or the ease in her movements. 

she stepped up to the counter, her voice soft but clear, with the unmistakable lilt of an american accent. 

“can i get a triple espresso latte, please?”

“sure thing,” you replied, focusing on your task to avoid staring. you couldn’t help noticing how her eyes scanned the menu, even though she seemed to know exactly what she wanted. when you handed her the drink, she added two raw sugar packets at the condiment station, stirring them in with a thoughtful, almost precise motion.

from that day on, she became a regular… the american’s order never changed, and neither did the way she seemed to take her time, like the world outside the shop didn’t rush her. you started making her drink before she even reached the counter, always aiming to have it ready the moment she paid. 

it wasn’t just a job anymore where you are serving a customer; it was a quiet ritual you looked forward to every morning while seeing your slowly developed attraction for a woman you barely know.

it took her a while to notice you, though… like.. really notice you. for weeks, it was just polite smiles and the occasional “thanks.” 

one day, as you handed her the latte, she lingered by the counter.

“you’re always here,” she said, her tone warm and teasing. 

“do you ever get a day off?”

you laughed softly, surprised by the question. 

“i don’t mind it. it keeps me busy.”

“well, you must really love coffee, then, i don’t blame you because this stuff is very good,” she said, her lips curving into a slight smile.

“it’s not bad,” you replied, a little shy under her gaze. 

“but i think i like the people more.”

cat’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and she tilted her head. 

“good answer.”

after that, she started talking to you more. at first, it was just casual questions…how your morning was going, if the early morning had been busy. 

over time, her curiosity about you grew.

“so, what do you do when you’re not here?” she asked one morning, leaning slightly over the counter as she stirred her latte.

“i do a bit of pottery and art or take care of my home ,” you said, trying to sound casual, though the attention made your pulse quicken. 

“ha– the pottery stuff is just a hobby.”

“pottery?” she repeated, her interest clear. 

“that’s cool. what kind of stuff do you make?”

“mostly small things. mugs, bowls, vases. nothing fancy,” you said, wiping the counter even though it was already spotless.

“i doubt that,” she said with a grin. 

“you should bring something in. i’d love to see it.”

“maybe,” you said, unsure if you’d actually follow through. the idea of her looking at something you’d made felt both exciting and nerve-wracking.

you wanted to know more about her, too. where she worked, what brought her to london, what she did with her time. 

however, she always steered the conversations back to you, her questions thoughtful and specific. it wasn’t until weeks later, in a quiet moment, that you finally asked her something personal.

“so, what do you do?” you asked, trying not to sound too eager.

she hesitated for a beat, then smiled. 

“i work in sports.”

“oh, like coaching?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“no, not coaching,” she said, her smile widening. 

“i play.”

“let me guess…you’re a footballer?” you asked, joking before a look of surprise spread on your face after seeing catarina nodding her head.

“something like that,” she said, her tone light and nonchalant. 

“nothing too exciting.”

you wanted to press for more details but didn’t want to push. still, the revelation stayed with you, making you wonder how you hadn’t guessed. there was an effortless athleticism in the way she moved around the cafe at times, a quiet confidence that hinted at a world beyond your little shop. how did you not notice before?

even after learning she was a footballer, she didn’t change. she still came in nearly every morning, still asked about your pottery, still made you feel like the only person in the room when she looked at you. 

and you? you kept making her lattes, savoring those three to five minutes that had become the best part of your day.

the routine with cat had become a comforting rhythm in your life. every morning, like clockwork at eight am, she walked through the door, her curly ponytail swinging as she gave you that familiar, easy smile. without a word, you’d already be making her triple-shot latte, pairing it with her spinach sandwich as if by instinct.

over the months, she became more than just a customer. she was… something closer to a friend, though it didn’t quite feel like the right word. there was a certain spark, a teasing energy in the way she complimented you almost every day. 

“you’re the reason my mornings are bearable before training,” she’d say, her tone was always light, but her light gaze lingered, warm and intent, leaving you flustered.

your conversations never stretched far…five minutes, give or take, before she left to live her life, and you stayed behind the counter, living yours. still, those minutes meant more to you than you’d ever admit out loud. 

sometimes, when you cleaned up after the rush or had a rare moment to yourself, you’d wonder if you’d ever get to see her outside the shop. it felt like a silly thought, one you tried to shake off. 

cat seemed larger than life, someone with a world you couldn’t imagine being part of.

a week after those thoughts started to take root, she caught you off guard.

“do you watch football?” she asked one morning, leaning casually against the counter as you slid her latte toward her.

you blinked, surprised. 

“uh, no, not really,” you admitted, cringing internally. 

“sorry if that’s disappointing.”

she laughed softly, her smile easy. 

“not at all. it’s actually refreshing.”

you raised an eyebrow. 

“refreshing?”

“yeah,” she said, her fingers brushing over the cup. 

“you’re one of the only people in my life who doesn’t just see me as a footballer or a machine. it’s… nice.”

cat’s words hung in the air, heavier than the usual banter. before you could respond, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small envelope, sliding it across the counter toward you.

“what’s this?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

“a ticket,” she said, her voice light but her eyes steady on yours. 

“chelsea versus arsenal. tonight.”

you stared at the envelope, your heart thudding. 

“wait… you want me to come?”

“of course,” she said, her tone almost teasing. 

“i’d love to see your beautiful self there.”

your cheeks burned, and you ducked your head slightly, trying to hide the flush creeping across your face. 

“cat…” you started, but words failed you. all you could do was nod, clutching the envelope like it might disappear.

“good,” she said, her smile widening as she picked up her sandwich and latte. 

“i’ll be looking for you.”

she left before you could overthink the situation, her words replaying in your mind on a loop. 

your beautiful self. 

when you got home that evening, you spent far too long picking out what to wear. cat had only ever seen you in your work apron, your hair tied back in a practical ponytail. now, she’d see you outside that setting, and the thought was both thrilling and terrifying. 

eventually, you settled on something simple but nice…a pair of levi jeans, a cozy brown cashmere sweater, and boots that made you feel just a little more confident.

walking into the stadium was surreal. the energy was nothing you are used to, the crowd a sea of blue and red. 

you found your seat, the ticket guiding you to a section with a surprisingly great view of the pitch. when the teams came out, your eyes immediately searched for her. and there she was.. catarina in the starting lineup, standing tall and composed in her chelsea pink and black away kit. 

it was like seeing a completely different side of her, one you’d never glimpsed in the cafe.

suddenly.. as if sensing you, she looked up toward the stands. her eyes scanned the crowd briefly before landing on you. a grin spread across her face, small but unmistakable. 

she lifted her hand in a subtle wave before blowing a kiss, and you couldn’t help but wave back blushing, your heart hammering in your chest.

for the next ninety minutes, you watched her in awe, barely noticing the game’s score or the crowd’s roaring cheers. catarina was incredible.. graceful, powerful, and fast. 

sometime during the second half, you were having a ton of fun watching the game. you could get used to this. you took a moment and realized just how much she meant to you, and maybe, just maybe, how much you meant to her.

after the game, you hesitated by the section entrance, unsure if you should wait or leave. before you could decide, a staff member approached you, confirming your name and motioning for you to follow them. 

your nerves kicked into overdrive as they led you down a hallway, eventually guiding you outside the players’ tunnel along with all of the other friends and family.

then, there she was. catarina emerged, her hair damp from the shower, a chelsea jacket draped over her shoulders. when her eyes landed on you, her entire face lit up. 

she jogged toward you, and before you knew it, you were wrapped in a tight hug, her arms pulling you close.

“you were amazing!” you exclaimed, your voice muffled slightly against her shoulder. 

“two goals! you totally crushed it.”

she pulled back just enough to look at you, her grin wide and genuine. 

“thank you, y/n.”

before you could reply, another voice cut in. 

“oh, come on, cat. you scored two just to show off for her. she is beautiful, but damn cat you are whipped!”

you turned to see a girl about your age…maybe a year younger..standing nearby, smirking. she was wearing her chelsea gear, clearly another player, though her teasing demeanor gave her away as someone close to catarina.

cat groaned, rolling her eyes. 

“ignore lauren,” she said, giving the girl a gentle shove. 

“she’s annoying.”

so that was her name. lauren. you couldn’t help but laugh softly at their dynamic, the tension in your chest easing as you realized how natural everything felt.

“nice to meet you, lauren,” you said, your tone light and amused.

“you too,” lauren said with a wink before jogging off, leaving you alone with catarina again.

cat glanced down at her hands, rubbing them together to ward off the cold. without thinking, you slipped off your gloves and took her hands in yours, your warmth spreading over her chilled skin.

“your hands are freezing,” you said softly, rubbing them gently. 

“you should’ve worn thicker gloves.”

cat’s gaze softened as she watched you, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“you’re always taking care of me, even outside the cafe.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, but before you could respond, she added, “and by the way, you look beautiful at work, but out here?” she paused, letting her eyes roam over you appreciatively. 

“you look beautiful.”

you giggled, ducking your head slightly to hide your blush. 

“thanks. you’re not so bad yourself.”

she grinned, her expression turning playful. 

“so, will i see you tomorrow morning at the cafe?”

your smile faltered slightly, and you shook your head. 

“actually, i’ve got a few days off starting tomorrow.”

“perfect,” she said without missing a beat. 

“i’m off tomorrow too.”

you blinked, caught off guard by her sudden enthusiasm. 

“oh?”

“yeah,” she said, her grin widening. 

“so, since neither of us has work, i think we should spend the day together.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

 “i’d like that.” 

“good,” she said, her voice soft but certain. 

“then it’s a plan.” 

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