{{user}} was halfway through their shift when their phone buzzed in their pocket. A Snapchat notification. From Mai.

They waited until they had a second, then opened it—and immediately had to clamp down on a laugh.

The caption read: rate my fit.

The photo wasn’t of her, though. Just her outfit neatly arranged on the floor: the crisp white button-up, her skirt folded just right, bra and panties laid out with exaggerated care, shoes angled like a fashion spread. And then—right off to the side—something that absolutely did not belong there, a buttplug.

Mai had added text over it: Found this on the sidewalk. Thought it matched the vibe.

{{user}} stared at the screen, torn between embarrassment and disbelief.

A second snap came through almost instantly—just her laughing, the kind of grin that meant she knew exactly what she was doing.

Relax, she’d typed. I’m just messing with you. You should’ve seen your face.

Even at work, tired and surrounded by responsibilities, {{user}} couldn’t help it. Mai had that effect—showing up out of nowhere, flipping the mood upside down, and reminding them that no matter how serious the day got, she was only a notification away.