#task: singapore

[artemispt]

He is always so calm and gentle even doing the most simple things 🥰

Source

[slangfeed]

A Comprehensive Guide to the Duties of Maids in Singapore

In the bustling metropolis of Singapore, the call for home helpers is at an upward push. Families of all sizes and from diverse walks of life are increasingly recognizing the benefits of hiring maids for their families. But can we in reality understand the overall variety of responsibilities those hardworking people carry out? From cooking nutritious food to making sure of a smooth and organized…

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

[cuntycheol]

To You (C.SC)

Summary: Silence has always been a long-term paying guest between you and your husband. It took a cohabitation and more, to turn things around for Seungcheol and you, to figure out your true feelings.

Themes: romance, fluff, smutty, old money Seungcheol cuz he's your rich, cold but tender husband and you're his smart wifey, scenes of a firebreakout(please skip if you're triggered), some nice scenes of Singapore, and the first smut happens already (virgin!couple, slight inexperiences, orals, vanilla!) Cheol's very warm please I love him so much we'll save the real Cheol monstercock for the future ;3

WC: 7.7K (sowwy)

Playlist: Seventeen's (To You, All My Love, Falling for You SDSMSN, Darling), By My Side by Junny, Better Siopaolo , Alina Baraz (Floating, Alone with you, if you let me) I.M Flower-ed, Bibi Step

feel free to arrange them sowwy they're a lil mis arranged

A/N: helloo carats!! Had to make my first post about my man Cheol(thank u to my man) with the good ol' husband!au. It's evident im in my "oh husband cheol feelings" where we loving him real good! I've been impatient so I posted it a bit earlier than expected :D my comfort loving carats, this is based off All My Love and To You lyrics <3 I hope you enjoy this piece of writing as much as I enjoyed writing this! Happy Cheol Day you living legend coupranghae btches :")

Updated: mini sequel here <3

Life was divided into four distinct categories, after one whole month of your brand new status as Mrs. Choi, or Mr. Choi Seungcheol's wife:

Breakfasts with and for Seungcheol because he confessed he anticipates what you offer in the am

Touring the exquisite royalty of the mansion built by his great grandparents(specially the crimson paints)

Spending time with Seungcheol's Mom since she adores you more than her son!

Dinner n Slumber, where you sleep with a wall that separates you from your husband.

You don't exactly think it'd change; however you do expect it to. Everyday, you wake up in your own room, without the warmth of your husband because neither of you are exactly ready to sleep on the same bed together, and neither of you can sacrifice your comfort on the couch. Therefore a shared decision convinces your elders to grant your marriage the gift of time, a chance to understand one another before embracing a shared room and shared life. All credit to Seungcheol's mom, who chose you to be her son's perfect match, a decade ago. She envisioned you as the one to be her son's beacon of illumination in his life, and the way your personality coincides with his. Who knew you'd be repaid for your kindness of tagging along with your grandfather to meet his ailing friend, (Seungcheol's grandfather) with a coerced, arranged marriage to their youngest grandson. It was on you to navigate this relationship towards love and the more easier it sounds, the harder it gets.

Your husband's honesty shines through, expressing that his family holds the utmost importance in his heart, and he could never deny his mother's wishes. Although he initially declined the marriage proposal, the elders' persuasion led him to reluctantly agree. Absolute zero differences in both of your situations. Despite the arranged marriage, he promises to ensure your comfort and well-being. Polite knocks on your door in the morning signify his presence, seeking breakfast if you're up for the task, and he would either leave a note saying "ThankYou" or he would leave a fresh flower on the dining table as a small gesture of appreciation for your efforts in preparing breakfast, letting your pride swell with all this generosity, although you'd wish he says it with his own mouth, overcoming those barriers. Considerate compliments follow whether you're dressed in your best, try some new hairstyles, or ofcourse, after enjoying your delightful meals, was one thing that made you hopeful about this relationship.

It's evident he lacks communication, since he only speaks to you at mornings and occasionally on texts, whenever he's late. He possesses no punctuality but you're quick to realize he has a pattern in timings of when he wakes up, when he returns, when he sleeps. Throughout the day, you don't exactly see him. At nights you barely sit with him. He's either in his room or on his laptop. Nothing, among you two, seems like you're in a bond with the youngest heir of this luxurious business.

"Don't forget, the dinner's scheduled tonight" you chime, while he was leaving. He nods and drives his way out for another busy day.

Marrying a business tycoon of "old money" and serving him great breakfasts, were the last thing you expected  in your simple life, where you were focused on academic and personal glowups, and rarely had any serious past relationships, or have slept with anyone.

You just believed better things await for you, and if those better things were in the shape of a young handsome husband, who were you to complain.

✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

"So! Have you decided a honeymoon destination?" Seungcheol's sister-in-law questions, at a calm family dinner. Seungcheol takes a sip from the drink, "I'm positively considering Greece or Bali, or maybe Fiji.  We haven't played rock papers scissors yet to choose one destination" earning a small chuckle from everyone, Seungcheol continues to feast on the delicious dinner you had prepared. A variety of topics continue to be discussed and that was the only response Seungcheol ever said throughout dinner.

While the family members took their departure, after another hour of dessert sessions, you thought about his remark, if there's any depth to it. The honeymoon idea and what he has said so far, made you a bit ecstatic.

Seungcheol's seated on the couch, of the lounge upstairs, sipping his usual coffee. you lean towards the railings of the top floor, where yours and Seungcheol's bedrooms neighbored. He looks at you, with tender eyes, yet a cold expression. "So, about the whole honeymoon thing, are you-"

"Oh "don't worry about it," Seungcheol's dismissively remarks, taking another sip of his coffee. "Family dinners are meant for prying into things we wouldn't discuss on a typical morning," he explains. "And Honestly, I don't see the need for a honeymoon." Your heart sinks at his response, disappointment clouding your expression. "But I thought we could at least look at brochures together? Atleast discuss this thoroughly" you respond, trying to mask your disappointment with a glimmer of hope that he might consider it.

Seungcheol lets out a weary sigh, his tone becoming more serious. "You don't have to give in to everything my family demands. They can be nosy, but they'll eventually drop the topic after a few days." He glances down at his laptop, signaling that the matter is closed.

You can't help but feel a pang of hurt as Seungcheol's words crush your hopeful expectations. The thought of a romantic getaway had brought some solace, but now it seems like a distant dream.

"But Seungcheol," you protest softly, trying to keep your emotions without losing your temper, "it's just that a honeymoon could be a chance for us to spend some quality time together, away from only meeting on breakfasts, away from the hustle of daily life, away from being silent everyday, and both of us make an effort, to get to know each other better" He glances up from his laptop, his expression stoic, but you can sense a hint of frustration in his eyes. "I understand your perspective," he replies calmly, "but I'm not sure a honeymoon is the right way to achieve that. We can spend time together here, without the pressure of a fancy trip. We're not close enough nor we're a match to be doing this in the first place"

at this moment, you find yourself getting defensive...

"It's not about a fancy trip, Seungcheol. It's about creating memories, experiencing new things together, and building a connection outside of this huge mansion... where we live in distant bedrooms" you gesture around you, emphasizing the splendor of the place that seems to distance you both from the real world.

His eyes widen momentarily at your words, and you see a flash of emotion that he quickly hides. "It's not that," he retorts yet defensively, "I just think this honeymoon is an unnecessary pressure, and we should be honest about our feelings and not pretend."

You take a step back, hurt and anger welling up inside you. "So, all this time, we were just a pretense? You're quite audacious to say we're incompatible, considering the amount of time you spend with me. Count the days we ever went out? That's right. Zero" you scoff, "you know what, let's just forget this. Forget I ever asked you anything. Thankyou, for lightening my evening, Good Night" Before he could utter a response or rephrase everything, you stomp your way into your bedroom, hiding your face in your palms, feeling a bit guilty of losing your cool already when it hadn't been a while.

Seungcheol stood there, a mix of regret and realization washing over him. He knew he had made a mistake, once again, with his poorly chosen words to convey his thoughts. The truth was, he had never really learned how to express himself properly; heck he couldn't even say a proper "you're so pretty, I think I have started to find some meaning into this relationship?" to the woman he's been living with, in the same house. Unfortunately words often tumbled out of his mouth without a second thought, and he rarely considered how they might sound or how they could impact the other person. As a result, he found himself remaining silent at critical moments, fearing that his words might only cause more harm than good.

The argument with you had brought this flaw to the forefront of his mind. He recognized that his lack of effective communication had hurt you, leaving you disappointed and disheartened. He raises his fist to knock at your door, wishing he could take back his words and find a way to bridge the growing distance between the two of you, yet again, he retreats.

The same gesture was for you standing in front of your door, trying to atleast add a subtle apology, but an instant realization made you stomp your foot dramatically and jump into the warm bed.

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

The next day, you refuse to make any breakfast, or contribute to the daily household activities like you usually do. You sulk in your room, either pacing back and forth, ordering your meal,coffee and everything upstairs.

It angered you how much you like Seungcheol. How deep of an infatuation you've developed towards him, in such a short time, finding glimpses of someone beneath the surface that you want to know better. Yet, the argument hangs heavy in the air, making you doubt whether your budding emotions stand a chance. You journal everything; how much of an asshole he is to not communicate properly, how many layers are there to him, and the only time you two talk, is for an arguement? Everything frustrated you. You hear Seungcheol in the distant, and as much as you were cross with him, you want to look at him, and admire his presence. Although its the first ever arguement you two share, the typical wife in you, expects flowers and apologies first from your husband.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, would often glance upstairs, or at your door. He would expect to see your charming face, he silently admires. Only to slump his shoulders and leave for work everyday.

✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

Two days pass by, and midnights strike, as you sit alone in your room, the argument with Seungcheol still fresh in your mind, you try to calm your emotions, occassionally collecting your thoughts in process of reading. Lost in your contemplation, you fail to notice the faint smell of burning wires in the air. The faulty switch connected to the lamp had been giving you trouble for a while, but you hadn't paid much attention to it, thinking it was a minor inconvenience, and indeed the most minor issues ignite major disasters.

Suddenly, a small spark ignites near the switch, and within seconds, the flames start to spread rapidly. Second situation of the night escalating this quick. Panic sets in as you realize the danger you're in.

Your heart races as you rush to the door, only to find that it's jammed, likely due to the fire's heat warping the frame. Fear grips you, knowing you're trapped. With no time to waste, you quickly grab your phone and dial the emergency number. Your voice trembles as you explain the situation and your exact location in the house. You yell out Seungcheol's name, as loud as possible, but unable to do so with the smoke rising.

Soon it starts to fill the room, making it hard to breathe. You look around for something to cover your mouth and nose, finding a nearby cloth to protect yourself as you wait for help to arrive. With all your remaining strength, you fan the rising smoke outside the door, to trigger the smoke alarms.

Seungcheol, who was now downstairs fetching a glass of wine trying to prompt an apology for the day he gathers his courage to, smells the smoke and hears the faint crackling of flames; soon he's shaken by the fire alarms sensing smoke. Panic overtakes him as he realizes this leads to your room. As he rushes upstairs, he hears faint bangings from your room, which stops. He calls out your name, but there's no response. Fear for your safety drives him to take action.

Seungcheol approaches the door, with all his force, he breaks it open. only to find the room engulfed in flames. Your figure is barely visible through the dense smoke. He rushes towards your feeble helpless frame, ignoring the scorching heat and billowing smoke. He finds you near window, trying to escape the inferno. With tears in his eyes, he wraps you in his arms and guides you towards the window, with the flames slowly engulfing the entrance door of your room.

In a span of a few minutes, sirens grows louder, and moments later, paramedics and fire brigades arrive, rushing to extinguish the flames and rescue both of you. They break through the main gates, helping you and Seungcheol escape to safety.

"Please check on her! She was unconcious and barely breathing I'm -I Plea-" Seungcheol fails to form a proper sentence.

"Please calm down sir, we're checking on her, and we'll assisst you. You are...?"

"Her husband! Please hurry and check on her god damnit!!" He yells in frustration hoping you're safe.

Soon, you were able to breathe on your own, and slowly you flutter your eyes open, chest heaving from the sudden attack of the horrific accident. Before it could escalate any further, you were given appropriate medications to trigger your drowsiness.

In the aftermath tranquility of this burning situation, Seungcheol stand outside, watching as firefighters work tirelessly to put out the remaining flames. Grateful to have survived the terrifying ordeal, he holds onto your numb hands, finaly letting his tears slip his eyes. He was so grateful to stop a major tragedy, and you're safe, with him.

✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

The morning sunlight gently seeps through the curtains as you feel it, only to be met with haunting flashbacks of the previous night's terrifying fire, your hopeless voice calling your husband's name, beneath your vision. You shot your eyes open and sit up, heart pounding in your chest as the vivid memories replay in your mind, leaving you trembling with fear. Tears stream down your cheeks as the trauma overwhelms you, and you find it hard to catch your breath.

Seungcheol's immediately awaken by your distress, pulling you into his arms. " I'm here y/n calm down shush..." he whispers tenderly, stroking your head, trying to comfort your trembling body as best as he can. He embraces you tightly in his arms, allowing you to cry and release the floodgates of emotions open from the harrowing experience.

He listens to your trembling sobs, his heartbeats a steady rhythm against your ear, and he continues to stroke your arms and back, comforting you through the turmoil. As you find consolation in his warmth, your clenched fists loosen their grip on the fabric of his shirt, his touch brings a sense of safety and reassurance that you desperately need in this moment. You look at him through your red eyes, as he smiles at you endearingly.

"Seungcheol- I...I'm so sorry" you sniff, gripping his hand, "I never knew that faulty switch would bring this huge mess upon us. You must be the one affected the most. I'm so sorry you had to go through this because of me. I should've let you known" you sob.

He gently wipes your tears, resting your head back on his shoulders "as long as you're safe, I'm at peace. It is my fault that I'm so...uh..quite unapproachable? But I went through hell when I saw you. I was sick worried. I'm sorry I should've protected you better. I should've run a new repair scheme as soon as you moved in. It was my insensitivity to let the most minor things slide" he slowly lies down, with you close to him. He smelled nothing like how the entire house did. He smelled sweet and strong. Everything indeed happens for a reason, as you sense how you're into the man, who rarely touches you, holding you dear.

Throughout the day, your husband Seungcheol stayed by your side, enveloping you in comforting embraces. He ordered breakfast to be delivered to his room, encouraging you to take small steps towards regaining your strength and energy to get on your feet. He offered the support you needed to gather the courage to move on your own and freshen up with a soothing shower.

While you were in the shower, he quietly left the room, allowing you some privacy to release the pent-up emotions that had been bottled up inside you. As the water washed away your tears, the conversations from two nights ago still loomed heavily, unresolved between you both. Yet, amidst the silence and uncertainty, there were his tender gazes - soft and caring. They were like ice on a sunburn, cooling your worries and offering a glimpse of hope. Though words may not have been spoken, his presence spoke volumes, showing that he was there for you in this trying time. You peer outside the window, to see the iron gates glistening with the fog, pitch black sky and the time's almost 11.

Once again, your husband returns into his room, after confirming you've changed, and he smiles at you, approaching with a plate of fruits and berries of all kinds. He was unsure of what your favorite fruit was. He felt unfortunate, of how unaware he is of your preferences. He hands you a bowl of strawberries, and elegantly peels an orange, handing the fruit to you.

"I'm sorry about the previous night" he begins. It catches you off-guard, yet you figure out you're the listener now. "I'm not the best with words, and I do realize I've hurt you-or even worse, left you disheartened. Yet again, I'm at a loss of what should I say, except that let's go on with the honeymoon plans. It may not be the best time right now, but whenever you're sure of doing this, tell me every detail about it; everything you desire for. We'll discuss it." he lifts his eyes towards you, with a subtle smile.

"I thought about everything, and upon contemplation, I realize I do want to give us a chance" you couldn't contain the bubbling happiness, and immediately hug him "thankyou so so so much Seungcheol. I'm glad you get my point" he was frozen at this sudden gesture, yet didn't fail to chuckle. Although he smiled discreetly knowing how wife-coded you are. "Let's begin as friends? Married friends? We'll know each other little by little" you suggest. "Sure, whatever you suggest" he smiles, shaking your hand.

✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

Amidst the haunting shadows of the accident's aftermath, and quite some insomnias later, time became your ally, gently coaxing you out of the horrors that had shaken your world. However you found an unexpected haven of love and affection with your husband. In your head, this friendship has escalated rapidly. A realization dawned upon you - the past may have shaped your paths, but the present had the power to rewrite destinies. Over time you had found solace in cohabitation with your husband, late-night conversations about life's intricacies, you delved into shared preferences, whispered dreams, cherished birthdays, and bittersweet memories of childhood. And everyday you discover new sides of him. Soon, you call him "husband" essentially finding pride and power in doing so. He was surprised at first, yet now he loves being called nicknames like "Cheol" or "Cheollie".

In Seungcheol, you found everything you admired in a man - daring, possessive, with a stunning face and a strong physique. He loved to be in shape, and encouraged you to stay fit, though romance wasn't his forte, he never faltered in taking care of necessities. While you weren't sure if you brightened his world, he became your epiphany. His struggles with eye contact and occasional mindless words unveiled the emotions he guarded, making you grateful for the accident that brought you together; without it, you might have given up on him. Now, you cherished the connection that had grown, exploring the depths of both your hearts.

Seungcheol realized soon that the collision of your worlds had a purpose, unveiling the potential for love and connection he hadn't dared to imagine. He slowly felt a major change in himself. Slowly, a transformation took place within him. Moments that were once filled with hesitation and distance, now became opportunities for seeking your attention, for his eyes to meet yours. He longed to be closer to you, finding comfort in watching you sleep peacefully at night and waking up to your smile each morning.

However, amidst this newfound affection, he couldn't decipher where his heart truly lay. Your mother's loving gestures and his sister-in-law's respectful fondness were easy to understand, but when it came to your feelings, he was left uncertain. Did you like him back? Would you ever be able to reciprocate his love? The questions lingered, leaving him vulnerable to the unknown, anxiously awaiting the day he could unravel the mysteries of your heart. It's an endless marathon in his mind.

It took him 4 days to gather his courage and ask you for coffee. You laugh and obviously agreed to accompany him to the city's famous coffee spot. Like the man he was, he memorizes your order and pulls into a drive thru.

Seungcheol drives to a spot he usually stops by, to ease his frustrations; Parks. Laughter of children, romantic couples sharing pda, and a bridge that separates cherry blossoms from the playground, you're immediately in love with this scenario. Both of you share some laughter, and enjoy your coffees and croissants, while the petals of the blossoms shed upon you. The look of love you two exchanged was long; to leave your coffees cold and croissants dry. Both of your worlds revolved around each other, only for Kkuma's barks to bring you back in reality, being greeted by Seungcheol's brother and his wife. Your delightful evening ends with a comfortable dinner and living your best chances of being Kkuma's mother, something your two month marriage with Seungcheol lacked.

Soon enough, you persuaded Seungcheol to shift houses permanently. Despite your old room being perfectly repaired, the trauma of sleeping alone had left a lasting impact. Bonus was Kkuma finally moving in with you and Seungcheol. Understanding your perspective, Seungcheol readily accepted to have you in his room in this house, and the new one seeking, welcoming the idea without hesitation.

Within a mere three days, you both found yourselves settling into your new furnished apartment, which, wasn't expansive, it rather held the essence of a cozy aesthetic. With only one guest room upstairs and a spacious bedroom, you had insisted on sharing the same space, declining any notions of personal separation. He made sure to double check every single thing, to disapprove any mishaps.

"Cheol, this is beautiful! I-I love it!! Thankyou so much, husband!" To him it's no new information, but his cheeks flushed shades of cherries. You were too busy exploring your new house, and he couldn't help but adore every inch of your ecstacy.

"Any time, wife" he replies after clearing his throat, and containing his ecstacy.

You poured your gratitudes to Seungcheol the entire day and actively joined hands with you, playfully engaging in household tasks, cherishing every moment as you transformed the apartment into your shared abode, a place that signified the start of your new world together.  Nothing changed in terms of routine, however, you two communicate often,and now there were sparks of mischief from Seungcheol, indicating that silence was no more a welcoming guest. And now Kkuma being an addition, you enjoyed being indoors and outdoors with her. It wasn't often both of you enjoy going out often unless its something such as icecream dates or coffee, or some relaxing walks, because neither of you go anywhere out of your comfort zone; except for a business trip or grocery shopping, however the joy of turning down people who ask for your status, was thrilling. You felt a sense of superiority.

═════════════════════

The next evening he returns home a little earlier than expected, searching for an important flash drive in his drawer. It seemed you were in shower, considering how loud you were singing. He smiles, hearing your soft voice echoing in the room, and suddenly the door knob twisting open. Seungcheol quickly slides open the closet door and gets inside.

It was foolish of him to hide instead of leave, but he thought maybe his presence would freak you out. He slowly opens a little to take notes of the surrounding and was taken aback, seeing you in a towel, and your hair wrapped. He gulps, seeing your glistening body smell like lavender, spreading in the room.

Seeing you in this new light, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire mixed with love. He had never viewed you with such intense admiration before. Tempted to touch and hold you, he controlled his impulses, knowing it was too soon for his hands to explore your curves yet this is the most skin he's seen of you.

You lie down on the bed, laughing and smiling to everything that went in your beautiful mind. Soon you dial your best friend and start off a conversation. Seungcheol senses this was a grave mistake, because phonecalls are obviously long. He had no choice but to stay inside until you're distracted. He facepalms himself, and slowly leans towards the side. You put the phone on speaker while you do your post shower rituals, moisturizing yourself in view of the full length mirror.

"Is Seungcheol home right now? Or should I say your husband" your friend teases you

"Good lord, no he's not. Infact a business trip awaits his presence"

"Tch that's sad. No wonder why you're calling me and not him"

"My man's busy. Sometimes I just hope come early one day and catch me like this? My mind goes places whenever I get out of shower and think of him coming in without notice" you smile coyly "darling you're on my to-do list tonight" you chuckle. Seungcheol could only smirk, after hearing your fantasies.

"Honey you're too inexperienced for this" she retorts

"Inexperienced my foot, I miss my husband already.... and safe to say I actually love him" you sigh.

"Have you told him about your feelings? Have you told him you've never been laid and are deprived" Seungcheol closely listens to everything, occasionally holding his laughter.

"No" you pout again, falling on your back, unaware of seungcheol who was shamelessly hearing you, while admiring your raised chest, that was swollen out off the unknown feelings of you, from him.

"I want to. Everytime I look at him, I want to tell him  'oh Cheollie I love you' " you laugh with your friend, "I'm seriously in love with him and it scares me how quick and sudden it all was. And now its- he's giving me mixed signals. Sometimes he's distant, and sometimes he makes me the most lucky woman ever. I want to tell him I love him, I just don't know when or how" you continue

"Dont say anything. Just go on your honeymoon, and sit on his face, the 2nd hour. Afterall actions speak louder than words"  both of you laugh heartily. Seungcheol breathes out a laugh yet onto it, knowing it's over if he's caught.

"Tell me about it" you sigh.

"Seriously! Talk with him and confess! Since when did you become such a big pussy"

"Honey I'm the one with the pussy"

"Goddamn, you- seriously- talk to him. What if he s involved in someone else the time you say the words"

You went silent, the thought just made you sit back up, nd think about it. Could he really have someone else?

"I...highly doubt that. My mother-in-law said he's never really had a serious relationship, since he was focused on training back then"

"Honey its not written on your face that you've never had a man, it aint written on his face that he may have a potential girlfriend before you. What you'll be doing then?" Your friend continues "I hope he's not doing this out of sympathy, considering that whole incident"

Again you felt numb all over, it would've killed you inside out if the signs of Seungcheol's empathy and love was all out of sympathy. However you shake your thoughts, and put a heavy heart on your words, "Then what I'm the one who married him, and I get to choose if I stay or take the other way"

Seungcheol gulped, knowing time is definitely ticking and if he still don't do anything, he'll surely regret.

"Atta girl!"

Suddenly Kkuma runs out from underneath your bed and into the bathroom, and you chase her. "Ahhhhh kkuma stop you frenzy lil- I'll call back later" you chase your daughter, and Seungcheol seeks this as a perfect opportunity to escape.

"Kkuma!!!! That's your dad's favorite shampooo aaa!" You exclaim. Seungcheol takes this opportunity to sprint out of the room, laughing a little at your banter. The smile plastered on his face was priceless. His chest heaved with happiness, ego swollen with pride, heart relieved and thrilled with all the revelations. If he knew anything as a businessman, it was to have a plan. He needs to be prepared for everything beforehand and time was a precious investment. And it was finally time he need to make his first move.

══════════════════════

"Are you interested in accompanying me to this business trip?" Seungcheol asks, out of the blue during breakfast.

"Well, I don't see exactly why wouldn't I" you raise your brows "thought I'd say no"

"Hey hey, it's not that! I just wondered if you'd be up for some adventure, that's all."

"Adventure, huh?" you reply, pretending to ponder dramatically. "Hmm, only if you promise to bring some fun into this 'business' trip."

He smirks, tapping his fingers on the table. "Deal! I'll make sure it's the most adventurous business trip you've ever been on" you're aware of your husband's antics, and it's evident he's brewing something.

You laugh, finding his playful demeanor contagious. "Alright then, you've got yourself a travel buddy. But you better keep your promise, Mr. Businessman."

Seungcheol winks, flashing you a charismatic smile. "Oh, don't you worry, Mrs. Businesswoman. It'll be an unforgettable journey" Kkuma barks in excitement

"Exactly Kkuma" he cheers.

You couldn't help but smile, at how domestic life has turned ever since the coast is clear between you two. The idea of being overseas with Seungcheol sparked a new imagination for you.

✿═══✿ ═╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

Whoever said travelling is easy, it never is.

After hours of a tiring flight, you found yourself in Singapore, the astonishing city of tourism. The sights were indeed beautiful, with city skyscrapers and landscapes that mesmerized you. The fresh air was a welcome change, adding a touch of excitement to this trip. Your husband, with his penchant for luxury, had chosen a hotel room at a height, providing a stunning view of the city and the rivers below."It must be even more beautiful at night," you thought, taking in the scenery.

Seungcheol's voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, looking incredibly attractive in his white shirt.

"Like what you see?" he teased, clearly enjoying the attention he was receiving.

"Sure I do," you replied with a nervous smile, trying to contain your admiration for him.

"I'll shower first then! I'll be heading out soon, so please order lunch for me as well," he said, scrunching his nose playfully before disappearing into the bathroom.

Following his request, you ordered lunch and kept yourself busy taking pictures of the breathtaking views from your room. Lost in the beauty of the city, you were interrupted by the doorbell, and to your surprise, there stood Seungcheol, clad only in sweatpants, with the towel hanging around his shoulders. You tried your best to keep composure "Oop! Quite a timing, lunch is here" you tried to maintain eye contact but it was hard; both for your eyes to keep to his face, and for his nipples to remain soft in the chilly air of the A/C. It was thrilling and embarassing, considering you now know what he is inside that white shirt he always wears.

"Sure, Thanks. Heard my phone ring" he walks over to the side table for his phone "I'll be quick" he chuckles knowing the effect he had on you. You swore you felt tingles everywhere, and bury your face in your hands, hiding the flusters of your red face and feels. Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol could see your flustered reactions through the reflection of the window; full enough to capture the city's highlights. He knew he has unlocked a new level.

"Sure this journey will be unforgettable"

✿═✿═✿═✿═✿═✿✿═✿═✿═✿═✿═✿

While Seungcheol's been busy attending meetings and chats with his clients, you took this opportunity to explore the city's famous landmarks, enjoying some street shows, and a visit to art galleries and ice cream parlors. The times he's available, he shines as usual; enjoying different flavors, mingling with the dancers, and spending like anything on ferris wheel rides, and to exquisite places you've either seen on searches, or never heard of it.

"So Mrs Businesswoman how are you enjoying your stay so far?" He inquires, leaning rowards the railings of the bridge.

"Amazing, you really know how to explore, Mr Dora" you smile. "How long is your business work though?"

"Why is it? Don't you like it here?" He frowns

"No no, it's that you must be tired commuting back and forth, just making sure you don't get sick"

"Don't worry, besides, weren't you the one to be enthusiastic about a honeymoon" he looks up at the starry sky. An instant realization came to you

"Ooh.... I-damn you sneaky lil I should've known why would you ask me to accompany you all of a sudden" you squint at him "I'm not complaining though. You have quite an elite taste" you smile

"Then lets go get dinner and we'll chill on some champagne later" the idea sounds wonderful already. Seungcheol holds your hand, and your heartbeat accelerated at this gesture

"You don't mind...this do you?" He asks, eyes glistening with innocence as if he doesn't tease you every morning.

"No, Honey" you smile. Despite Seungcheol's occasional flirty tactics, you realized that he had eyes only for you.

The next hour after a delicious dinner, you were in shower, and decided to make him suffer twice the time he does, so you come out in slippers, and a piece of towel barely covering your body, just enough to enhance your curves. Your husband who was pouring champagnes, turns around, to his absolute shock, he was foaming, eye-fucking you. You instantly knew you hit the bullseye.

"Forgot my toner here" you smile innocently, and unintentionally fulfilling your fantasies. Whatever was hard, was definitely not because of the temperature. Soon you return in just an oversized shirt and some shorts, that has been your usual night-fit. He hands you your glass, looking a bit horny. There was silence. Quite a sexually tempting one. Lights were dim, the view was spectacular.

It's when he realized he's had enough and pulls you on top of him, your lingerie-less body hitting his hard chest

"God..Seungcheol what is-"

"I'm I hav- Oh god I don't know how to say this" he contemplates, as you see his soft lips between his teeth

"What the hell you're the one to pull me on you" you roll your eyes

"Sorry I'm I-"

"Never mind" you hold his face and attach your lips with his. To be frank, you've had tolerated enough and it's time you do sit on his face.

The synchronization of your lips moving with his, was very perfect for a first time. You kept on kissing and kissing, exploring every inch of his mouth until he pushes you for a catch of breath. You flutter your eyes open and smile, slowly transcending to a laugh

"God you're so...menacing" he speaks "about time you finally do what you said to your frien-" he stops knowing he said a little too much. You look at him in shock "does that mean you-"

"Sorry" he nervously says. You squint your eyes at him again, very suspiciously "how much did you listen"

"Everything" he confessed "it was unintentional, you were busy on the call and I came for something then I forgot common sense. Sorry" he apologizes. You knew the cat had been out of the box, you were unable to notice it. You sigh, after a quick contemplation

"Well, it's no secret anymore. Here I'll say it fir-" he puts a finger on your lip, switching positions, where he is on top of you now. It earned a small squeak from you, yet you felt your core getting a bit wet by how attractive that was. His leg rested between yours.

"Let me" he stares in your soul. You gulped, kind of getting wet by how his built is hovering on you.

"Y/N, I'm foolishly, in fucking love with you" the sudden profanity made you grin a little harder, all while he strokes a loose strand off your face "honestly. I can't believe it took me this long to express my..sheer love for you, y/n. Back then, i would've died without you but now I...would die for you. I can't imagine a world without you, so if you please let me be yours forever?"

"I hated every inch of air I shared with you then, and how we were just bonded without sharing a hello" you smile, cupping his face "I never imagined I'd find every moment with you, so profound. Every minute with you was magical, and it only concludes how destined we are for each other"

"I love you Seungcheol"

"I love you too..."

With that, he took the "action speak louder than words" a little too serious. His lips wrestle for dominance with yours, and the thigh that was calm, started stirring up a storm between your legs, as he continuously grinds on you. You pull onto the hem of his shirt, and he immediately does, while his hands explore your body inside your shirt. He slowly makes his way from your lips to your neck. Everything felt so ecstatic; it was your new high. You clenched onto the soft pillows for dear life, when Seungcheol slides himself into your oversized shirt, his lips between the valley of your perky breasts, craving his attention. He admires every inch of your perfectly created body.

"Stop...teasing" you moan. He feigned ignorance, continuing to play with your sensations. He pulls you up by your back, and swiftly removes the shirt and throws it on the floor. "There's no stopping me tonight y/n," is the last thing he says before pinching your nipples, and making the best use of his mouth on them. He enjoys hearing the profanities escape your lips, and how your voice changes upon pleasure.

You push him by his shoulders and get down on him, sliding the waistband of his shorts down to his knees, his dick springing high on your face. You gaze at his length before mindlessly taking every inch in your hands. "You..you..do..nt hhhave to ddoo t-ohhh" he groans. "You don't tell me what to do...."

"Such a brat" he smirks, letting you rule his excitement. He felt his high, once you slowly took him in your mouth, taking in as much as you could without gagging (yet) it's a matter of time he shifts from a thread of "oh ffuckk" "you're doing it so good" to "I'm gonna cum" and it's when you stop. You hastily take your shorts off and slowly grind on him. Seungcheol was panting manic. He was a mess. The entire room reeked of lust and his musky scent overshadowing, with his sweat. It proved how much of an authority you held on him

"Slide all the way up to my face beautiful I don't bite"

That's all you needed for your dripping core to slide on his nose, to his mouth. His tongue did wonders. You were sure you wouldn't last long considering this is your first oral ever, and sure you didn't, his tongue toyed with your nerves, and used every "shits" "fucks" "oh cheol" as his drive to go deeper in your cunt. "I'll cum I'm cumming I-" you release on his lips, and like a man, he devours it all.

"Delicious"

"You...you sound like cand..candy crush for god's sake" you breathily chuckle, and he follows, slowly getting up, to position himself on you.

"Then allow me to...'smash' " he presses a tender kiss on your forehead, before entering your core. You squeezed his hand, asking him to be gentle and burying your face in his neck, fingers in his back. It felt so...weird the first few minutes, but as he slowly moves, the funky feeling, the pain, it all vanishes. It's all when you realize you're actually getting laid. The sounds you've never considered you'd make, were too loud, way too unholy. Seungcheol was holding your leg, and was going slow till you adjust to him. His low groans and breathy moans turned you on even further, where you move your head to face him and slap his arm

"Giv...give me e...every..thing, husband. Take me all the way up" you breathe out. It's when he increases his pace, once he received your green signal. The slow slaps, were now louder and faster. Your bed was also giving up on concealing it's squeaks. He holds you in his arms, and continues thrusting in you.

Nothing else in the world mattered but the pressure you felt in between your legs and your delicious heat wrapping around him, engulfing him in until he bottomed out. His head falling into the crock of your neck, whispering sweet nothings against it while he started to fuck you slowly.

“Y-You feel so good, so w-warm.” Seungcheol kissed you, feverishly, swallowing your moans. His soft lips whimpering against yours. “I want to be inside you forever.” His hips moving against yours slowly, making sure you could feel all of him inside you. His hands never leave from your back and pushed you against him, chests heaving against one another’s. You arched your back, gripping the blankets underneath you. "Oh Seungcheo...god....cheol..." you breathe. He continued tinting your neck with his masterwork, and swiftly positions you on all fours. The joy you felt by the way he dominated you, and messed with your fucked out state, was bringing you heaven. You go low, arms stretching towards the headboard, while he grabs them, locking them behind your back, and even going hard.

There was no stopping him, all while the whole city from your foggy windows witness you making love witb your husband.

"Look at yourself, love" he turns your head to the mirror on the right "look at us..mmm..." he moans in your ear his hand snaking in between your bodies searching for the little bud of pleasure. You scream in pure ecstscy.

He turns you around, so swiftly,  with his thumb hovering over it, the suspense had you withering, begging for him to touch you the only way he knew how. You whimpered feeling the ghost of his touch, your fingers tweaking at your nipple, sending a rush of pleasure through your body. "C..ch..chheoll..., mmm, I-I need to cum.” You pressed your chest into his back, turning your head all the way up, watching as his face contorted into pure bliss, his thrusts getting sloppier, his connected thumb with your clit and rubbing slow figure eight, constrasting the speed of his thrusts. You gasped raising your hips rocking against his hips and hand, feeling the sweet coil start to build up "im..fucking serious oh....my..."

"Release all on me, love" he demands amidst moans "Cum with me. Savour every drop of it" and it's all you needed to finally finish on him. He groaned finding your free hand and interlocking your fingers with his. You clenched around him. He was pumping as well, and you felt all warmth being filled inside you. Every thing about this was so surreal, so new, so perfect. You breathe as if you had run a marathon; a marathon of lust. Seungcheol hugs you, and stays inside you, caressing your head, showering you with compliments that you were brave and did well for your first time. The sense of encouragement brought tears to your eyes as you bury your face in his chest. He caressed your back with tender touches, and slowly lays you on your back, plopping down next to you.

"You're officially all mine" he kisses your shoulder. You hold his hand tightly, "you're mine as well, babe"

For the first time, you felt real comfort, real love, and an unimaginable intimate experience with your husband. And a shower too.

Seungcheol's heart hadn’t stopped palpitating since. His stomach erupted into butterflies whenever he had held you close throughout the immoral escapades the two of you had engaged in all night. He never wanted to let you go and now as he looked down into your glittering eyes with the heat of the golden sun rays hitting your sensitive bodies.

"Wake up husband"

"I think I want to sleep all day tonight" he shuffles closer to you.

"Oh who knew it would hard to wake my husband up from his slumber"

"Blaming on your irresistable charm" he squeezes your butt under covers.

"Owh! I'll need my own room again if you do th.." his hands cup your clothed core

"Hmmm...you were saying?"

"You.." you fail to form sentences once he starts rubbing your core, slow dense circles.

"Hands to yoursel..f or I'll bite" you whisper

"Oh, my damsel in distress" his voice is contagiously attractive;waste no time as he goes down on you undercovers.

═════════════════════

"We're really leaving Singapore as lovers" he chimes, an ear-to-ear grin fixed on, enhancing his dimples.

"Yeah if it weren't you to have the same traits as you family, you nosy lil witch" you exhale, standing in front of the fountains, almost nearing the airport

"I'm always nosy about everything" he smirks

"Honesty is not always the best policy Mr Choi"

He pulls you dangerously close "You have no idea, Mrs Choi"

"You need a haircut"

"All I'll ever need is...you" he holds onto you like a sloth on a branch, as you two harmonize in a melodious laugh.

It is you, he wants to tell everything to. He'll express his love for you, while he holds your hands in his.

And if there's eternal love, Seungcheol is that person for you.

✿═✿═✿═✿═✿═✿c✿═✿═✿═✿═✿═✿

Thenkyoui for reading!! Stay bias wrecked by him <3

[hellkeepers-if]

DEMO (prologue out) UPDATES

Set in an alternate version of Singapore, you're a fresh university graduate bumbling through life as you desperately look for a job.

...Or that's what your mother thinks. In a world where occult ceremonies are as common as an existential crisis, there's no way you were ever going to be a perfectly average office worker. Just like your twin brother, you work for the International Society Of Exorcists (ISOE) which deals with supernatural occurrences, demonic rituals, and the like.

When a tragic event befalls your older sister, it uproots your entire life and everything you ever knew about the supernatural. With it, comes a forced need to come to terms with a family history straight out of the movies. 

After all, how the hell did it take twenty years to find out that you're descended from the freaking king of the underworld?

"I have a duty to myself, but more importantly, my family."

——————

Inspired by Supernatural, Fullmetal Alchemist, Noragami, and the Percy Jackson series, Hellkeepers is a +18 urban fantasy/paranormal interactive fiction, involving elements of Chinese and Southeast-Asian mythology. In every playthrough, you will...

• Play as a female, male, or non-binary Chinese demigod/ess.

• Determine the relationships between you and your family members. After all, they will play a big part in your story...

• Peel apart the full truth behind you and your siblings' birthright. Your parents can't hide it forever.

• Learn more about Chinese and Southeast Asian mythology as you warp into different dimensions, unlike anything you've seen before.

• Learn more about who you were in your past life.

| Nishimura Kazuo (he/him)

Age: 26

Ethnicity: Japanese

With a penchant for mischief and a charm that woos even the most stubborn of grandmas, Kazu is the wildcard of your organization. You think he's an anarchist, and the only reason he's tied down to the ISOE is so that he has an excuse for whatever havoc he wreaks on the supernatural. 

The A-ranked exorcist is your colleague and your brother's mentor, though you rarely ever see him in his office. But if you ever need him for demon fighting, he'll be there. Most of the time.

"Mind taking that pesky thing out for me while I take a quick nap?"

| Quentin Khanh (Quan) (he/him)

Age: 25

Ethnicity: Vietnamese

Quentin, more affectionately known as Quan, was your childhood friend. After he moved overseas, the weekly texts you sent him fizzled into nothing but a lost friendship.

Since then, he's returned to Singapore as a forensics pathologist and researcher under your organisation. Whether you like it or not, you have to no choice but to work with him for most of your investigations.

"If your bribe doesn't involve a penthouse worth of money, don't talk to me."

| Reyna Aliyah Santos (she/her)

Age: 23

Ethnicity: Mixed (Filipino-Chinese)

You've never quite met someone like Reyna. A halfling with a demon mother and a human father. Being raised in Singapore all her life with little knowledge of her parents, it's natural that Reyna would come to the ISOE for help at the mere instance of a fox tail and white fur.

You've been tasked to help her mask and get comfortable with her supernatural powers, but she won't make it easy for you. After all, foxes do bite. 

"Technically, I'm not stealing anything if they don't notice."

| Song Huayun (she/her)

Age: ????

Ethnicity: "Uhh...from Hell?" Chinese

| You don't know too much about Huayun, except for the fact that she lives in Diyu, the Chinese Underworld. As Diyu's gatekeeper, Huayun has seen countless depravities committed by humans before their deaths. That alone has made it hard for her to like them, and the contempt she shows you is no different than what she shows everyone else.

But with time, maybe she'll finally learn what it is like to feel human…and what a smile is.

"If it isn't the star of tonight's show. Welcome to Diyu."

| The Arbiter of Fate (m/f)

Theyre a stranger, or so you say. But this deity knows everyone...especially you.

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 8 * mv1

rumours on the paddock have it that max is out and about with another girl on his arm

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: -

notes: only 2 more parts after this,, making me kinda sad ;( i’ve used this as an outlet not to trauma dump irl anymore so what have i gOT AFTER THISSSS

(series masterlist)

(prev) // (next)

the car slowly comes to a stop, turning your head to stare at the apartment building you used to have memorised. it’s in the louder part of town, a more convenient location for your now ex-lover for when he needs to get around.

you hadn’t expected to cave so soon, but you were lying about in your apartment with nothing to do when you felt a sharp pang of pain in your chest. fueled by the sudden cat shaped hole in your heart, you called victoria up for a request to spend some time with the felines you’ve deemed as your kids.

a soft tap on your window makes you turn your head, a small smile from the younger woman startling you before winding the window down. “hey!”

“hey,” you greet her solemnly, putting the car in park before you climb out slowly. “have you gotten dinner yet?”

“i’ve got food upstairs,” victoria assures you. she turns to the man in uniform, hands behind his back at the entrance of the apartment building. “extra for you as well.”

he sends you a grin. “ms. (y/n)! welcome back.”

you return his gesture with a courteous nod. “hello,” you smile as he makes his way to your car.

valet is something you never asked for, but max had insisted following the incident of you chipping the paint off your car on a wall in the cramp basement parking.

if victoria hadn’t told you that your car was still under the list, you would have taken a taxi.

“sorry for calling you so abruptly,” you chuckle sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck as you follow the younger woman into the elevator. “i just missed jimmy and sassy. so much. i’ve tried staying away, but those two have got my heart in their tiny little paws.”

victoria smiles warmly at you, a friendly hand on your shoulder with a tight squeeze. “i’ve always got your back,” she giggles, shaking you slightly. “you’re my favourite.”

you shake your head. “have they been eating fine?”

“they have! but i get an inkling that they’ve been missing you,” victoria frowns, now leading the way in the empty hallway. “they sleep on your side of the bed when i’m around and start meowing like crazy when i come in. probably hoping it was you.”

that was the conflict you had coming back from the singapore gp to clear the apartment of your things.

you had concluded yourself that packing them up to bring them with you would be too stressful for the cats, which is why you made the difficult decision to leave them in max’s apartment.

on your last night, you gathered them up with you for cuddles while you slept. in the morning, they meowed for you as you walked out, leaving your heart heavier than it initially was.

when you step into the apartment, you try to push away the lingering feeling of breaking out into a sobbing mess. you call for the cats as you usually do, things shuffling and falling over in different parts of the apartment before you see two figures running over to you.

“i’ll prepare you a plate,” victoria grins, closing the door behind her. “i made carbonara.”

she disappears into the apartment, leaving you with the two cats rubbing their heads and bodies on your calves while you take off your shoes. it’s not very like them to be clingy like this, so it makes you grin though they do make it harder to finish your task.

“yes, yes,” you mutter, grabbing jimmy by the torso to briefly move him away. “i will carry you in a bit, baby. i just want to take off my shoes.”

you trudge further into the apartment, trying to make sense of the half empty place you used to call home. you should’ve been here; you should still be here.

if only you can get yourself to call him instead of moping around and falling asleep with his name on your lips like a prayer.

you try to get comfortable by the coffee table in the living room, both cats wrestling one another as they try to fit in your lap. you put your bag on the table. “i’ve got treats for you guys!” you squeal. “but, i’ve got to send a text first. give me a second, okay?”

you turn on your phone, answering your friends with a simple text message. you then get distracted from there, swiping to your home page and opening instagram for a quick look.

suddenly, you wish you never had.

there’s a picture of max, in the paddocks during the race weekend… with her. the bane of your existence then, and still the bane of your existence now even when he’s not yours anymore.

not that there's anything suggestive in the picture that would confirm a relationship. but it is enough to raise speculation now that news has broken that you are no longer together.

they're simply walking side by side in conversation. surely there's nothing going on between them. right?

you feel your heart sink in your chest and your throat closing in. even the presence of either cat isn’t enough to make you want to stay. but you know you have to power through — they’re just cats. they don’t know what’s going on.

you breathe out shakily, tears filling your eyes to the brim as you take out the liquid treats for the cats.

victoria walks out of the kitchen, alarmed by your sniffling and the tears falling out of your eyes. “oh, hey! what’s wrong?”

you shake your head, promptly putting the packet of treat down while jimmy and sassy flock to the familiar scent. you wipe your tears away and laugh dryly. “oh, it’s nothing! i just really missed the cats.”

“no, really. what is it?” victoria asks in a soothing tone, putting down the plates on the dining table before she runs over to you. “what’s wrong? talk to me about it.”

but you can’t. victoria will always be on max’s side — through and through. they’re siblings, after all. it doesn’t matter what happened between you both. no matter how much victoria says that you’re her favourite.

you grin through your tears and force a smile. “it’s just the apartment. i haven’t been here in so long.”

the suppressed emotions from earlier are finally surfacing. it’s even worse now that the universe made you look at the picture of max with kelly.

it all feels too fresh. sure, you were doing fine months after the breakup. but it’s different now seeing him in the first steps of moving on; you were still hoping for that slight glimmer of spark to eventually rekindle and reconnect you with him.

with kelly now in the picture, the possibility to having max back are looking bleak.

victoria holds you in a side hug. “i’m sorry you guys broke up,” she rubs your arm, head resting on top of yours. “i’m here if you need to talk about it.”

you give her a nod with a small smile. you wipe your tears away and try your best to stop crying - you'll just cry on your drive back home. "of course. thank you, vic," you smile, patting her knee. "but i will be okay. as always."

"i'm on nobody's side, if that helps."

you're not sure why victoria felt the need to clarify that. the only possible reason would be that max has not spoken of you and it only makes the tightening in your chest worse.

you let out one final sob, hand on your chest as jimmy and sassy wrestle one another for the liquid treat in your hand. you laugh breathily as you look up at victoria. "if max hasn't talked about it, maybe it's best that i don't as well."

and it left a bitter taste in your mouth saying that. it feels like it's over. you've now completely lost max without any signs of life. there are no signs of max ever coming back.

if max can move forward, so can you.

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12 @barelytolerabled @vellicora @lokigoeschoki @avg-golden-retriever @lokigoeschoki @cherry-piee

[bunnys-kisses]

and your daddy don't like me

phillip graves

cw: age-gap, pwp/smut, daddy kink, "brat" taming, semi-public sex, airplane sex, bimbo-appearing!reader, authority kink like the fic? request your own! really like the fic? leave a comment! reblogs are always encouraged!

it was cut and dry, get you from location a, onto the plane and then to location b. graves knew that it was that simple, while he thought it was a little ridiculous that your father was paying this much to get you from point a to b, the pay was nothing to scoff at.

that was the plan, until he laid eyes on you. pouty lips, bratty demeanor, the aura on you that said that you always got your way. it stopped the man dead in his tracks when he saw you. it made something twist in his gut when you started to verbally tear into one of his men.

"excuse me, girlie." he said as he put his hands on his hips, "i don't quite appreciate the way you are talking to my men." he tilted his head to the side, "no need to be a brat, ma'am."

you looked to him and stepped forward, your heels clicked with the floor. you almost stood at eye level, but the dark look on his face made you frown, "are you in charge here?"

"yes ma'am, just as your father instructed."

"i don't need a small army to get to singapore. it's a flight and the old man is paranoid." you replied. you had your hands on your hips and philip was itching to just grab your waist.

"ma'am, we're just doing our job. your father has a big amount of money in his bank account. the last thing he wants is to pay your ransom."

you sighed, "then i guess it should only take one man to get me there." you looked at the other shadows, "right?"

graves smiled, stroke his ego a little harder and see what happens. he gave the signal for his men to shuffle out. they went through all the effort to get to you, but their services won't be needed. he put his gun in the holster on his thigh and held out a gloved hand. he smiled at you, "well then." he said, "i guess we should be heading to the airport."

you placed your hand in his, and he led you to the car with you carrying your belongings in a bag and suitcase. he was even nice enough to put your luggage in the back of the car before he opened the door for you to get in.

once he started to drive, that was when the sexual energy started to form. he could see how your dress hiked up when you moved in the backseat. he could see your lovely thighs and wondered as he pulled onto the highway, what color were your panties?

you looked at him, that innocent look in your eye was masking your devilish nature. you'd be a good girl for him, right? let him do his little task to get you to sinagpore.

"mister..." you said.

"philip graves." he said, he looked at your briefly, "is something the matter?"

"oh, nothing." you blushed and looked away.

he reached out and touched your thigh, "are ya scared of flying?" he asked.

you nodded, "yeah, ever since i was little." you frowned at him.

"well don't worry, it's my job to keep ya safe. you don't have to worry about anything ma'am." he gaze you a charming, boy-next-door grin as he pulled into the parking.

you giggled, "thank you, sir."

-

you hated your father, you found him to be an obnoxious pig. he thought less of you because you were a woman. like you couldn't make your own choices! but when you were seated in the private plane with grave, you realized you had many choices during this flight.

graves was even nice enough to buckle you in before take off. you fluttered your eyelashes at him and smiled, "thank you, sir. may i hold your hand?"

he chuckled, "of course, ma'am." he held open his hand and you took it. he noted how smaller your hand was to his. he found it cute.

you held on tightly to his hand as the plane too off. your nail dug into the flesh of his hand. when the plane was safely in the air, you cuddled up close to him, "it's a long flight."

"yes it is. but don't worry, it'll go by fast." he wrapped an arm around you. you looked up at him, at least he was getting the memo.

coyly, you leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. you said, 'i've never met a gentleman like you." then giggled.

he chuckled, "well, i'm not like most men." he reached out for you and combed his fingers through your hair, "i just think a girl like you should get the attention she needs." you kissed once more.

"there's no one but us and the pilots." you remarked.

"that is true." he touched your face, his calloused fingers grazed your soft cheek, "why don't you get a lil more comfortable." he reached over and undid your seat belt, "i have to make sure you get there safely."

you giggled, "if my father found out what you were doing, he'd have you killed!" your face was close to his again, you reached out for him.

"aw, don't worry. your daddy doesn't need to know anythin'. just make sure my cum doesn't spill out when you see him." he laughed and gave you a wink.

you leaned in and kissed him on the lips. once unbuckled, he lifted you onto his lap and pushed up your skirt. he smirked against your kiss when he felt you were wearing no panties.

"were you hopin' to fuck my men today, ma'am?" he asked, "

"no, sir. why would you suggest that?" you looked down at him, your perfectly manicured nails in his hair, you pouted a little, "my daddy says i'm a good girl, so why would i want to fuck your men?"

he looked up at you and smirked, "oh silly girl." he said slyly, "i know you better then your daddy knows ya." he started to undo your blouse, "i was wonderin' on the ride to the airport what colour they were. but, i should've guessed there'd be none." he laughed.

the sight of your thin white bra made him salivate like a dog. his cock stirred in his pants. you gripped his hair and tilted his head back. you made eye contact. you said so sweetly, "i am a good girl."

he patted your ass and chuckled, "of course, doll. the best girl there ever was. i'm just teasin'." then gave you a nice broad smile.

you lifted your skirt to expose your pussy to him, "do you want me, mister graves."

he chuckled, "of course. now be good for me." he reached between your legs and gave it a gentle touch before he undid his pants and got his cock out, "now why don't we get a little more acquainted."

you leaned in once more and kissed him as you slowly sank on his cock. he groaned into your kiss as he felt your tight heat wrapped around his cock. it felt electric.

"promise you won't tell my daddy?" you asked, your lips close to his.

he smiled, "of course, doll. it'll be our little secret. but i have to know, do you do this for all of the men who fly with your overseas?"

you shook your head, "no sir... well, maybe if they're handsome. but mostly they're too rough and hurt me."

"ah well." he chuckled, "i'd never hurt ya. pretty things like you need to be kept safe from big bad men." he then exhaled deeply as you started to move your hips. it almost took the wind out of him.

you held onto his shoulder, the roughness of his shirt contrasted with the softness of your hands. you knew how to work your hips, you didn't make it so far with daddy's money alone.

he held your hips and felt his heart race as you rode him. he prided himself as being a man who protected. he made sure little angels like you were out of harms way. the world was a big scary place and you needed a guiding hand to keep you nice and safe.

you continued to move your hips and felt his cock deep inside of you. you were impressed by his size and it had your heart racing as you gave just the cutest little humps.

he watched your breasts bounce with all of your movements. he leaned in and kissed at your chest, trying his best not to leave marks. he didn't want yer daddy to know.

you fucked like a couple of bunnies in the lavish seat of the plane. you felt your body grow hotter. you could admit that graves was handsome, more handsome than some of the men that your father sent to you.

he was pretty in an all-american way. but if you got too close, he'd devour you whole. your hips bounced on his cock and his dug his fingers deeper into the flesh of your hips. he loved when he was feeling and seeing.

he took in the sight of you, this was the best task he had in a long time. he got paid handsomely by your father and he got a good feel of your sweet sex. maybe he'll get more chances to taste and fuck you.

you yanked on his hair and pouted once more, "i want to do it differently, sir."

"no way, i want to see you orgasm like this. i want to see your 'o' face.' he chuckled as he started to thrust up into you. he continued to watch you move against him as the two of you fucked on the leather seat.

it wasn't long before you felt the heat of orgasm in your gut. your nails dug into his shoulder you watched him with your tongue partially out of your mouth. you felt like such a slut! you were a good girl!

he humped up into you. he grit his teeth before he climaxed inside of you. the thought of pumping you full of his seed made his cock twitch before it grew softer.

you rode it a little bit more until you finished as well. you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a high pitched but sweet noise. you fell into his arms and held onto the front of his shirt.

you rubbed your pussy up against his soft cock. you let out a sweet chuckle as you looked up into his eyes. all he saw was the softest eyes and glossed full lips.

he played with your hair and smiled, "well then. why don't you get comfortable. you'll need your sleep to see your daddy."

you giggled, "well... i only have one daddy now." then rubbed a little harder.

graves believed himself to be a gentleman so who was he to deny such a lovely girl another round of the mile high club.

-

"he was alright, daddy." you said on the phone in your hotel room. you looked at your nails and sighed, "how much are they paying you? right.. right.."

your father talked on the other end, he asked questions about graves as you looked out onto the port. you sighed and crossed one arm, you tilted your head to the side, "no, daddy. i didn't have sex with him!" you were obviously lying, but it was bad enough you were doing your father's dirty work, "maybe i can get some liquor into him on the flight home. but you better send me to puroland for this!"

the sex was the icing on the cake. your main objective was to milk graves for all the information he was worth. you played dumb for him, make him feel like the big strong man! it wasn't hard, actually it was too easy.

but you learned long ago that most men are stupid. it just happened that graves was also a good fuck too. <3

xoxo, bunny

[thegildedbee]

Blanket/Weather: May 17 & 18 Prompts by @calaisreno

Lhasa remains steeped in darkness, even though the stars at the roof of the world are beginning to fade as night closes its eyes. Sherlock carefully weaves in-and-out between the long-haul lorries in the crowded service area, moving towards the one that will clandestinely carry him to its destination in Shigatse, which will place him in the vicinity of a rogue copper mine. This improvised transport strategy allows him to slip surreptitiously from town, thwarting the restriction on international visitors that they be accompanied by guides anywhere they travel within the captive region. Careful to remain undetected, he slips through the back door of the attached freight container; once safely inside, he casts light from a pen-sized torch across the boxes, gauging how to arrange a space to conceal his presence.

The blend of noises outside the truck crowd in on his awareness, amplifying his sensation of confinement – snatches of conversation, mostly in Mandarin, random laughter and occasional shouts, the peremptory staccato of a horn, the groaning metallic scraping of engines downshifting, the crunching of gravel under moving vehicles. He sits down, pressing his back against the side wall, knees bent, his hands and fingers idly flipping and spinning the pen torch. After a few moments he stops, puzzled at feeling pulled off-kilter, unsure as to why. This moment, now, is just one more to get through, as are the moments to come over the next five hours, and then in however many days lie ahead. The waiting, the dark, the placelessness – these are all familiar companions; he’s practiced at tamping down his resentment, and meeting each of them with resignation. He allows his mind to drift, seeking to surface useful data . . . and when it comes, the result suggests an odd source -- the similarity of his physical position to that last day before he disappeared, sitting preoccupied on the floor at Bart’s laboratory, bouncing a small rubber ball, waiting for events to unfold. He rubs at his forehead, and exhales with an irritated huff, frowning, displeased that he’s let the memory intrude.

He disciplines himself to shift focus, to stay in the present, by mentally rehearsing the two major tasks he needs to complete today, barring any unfortunate developments that would require starting over. He’s here to neutralize two confederates of Moriarty's syndicate who work for a multinational energy corporation – the first is an enterprising engineer overseeing the digging of an illegal mining pit, the second an executive at the corporate headquarters in Lhasa, who is diverting impressive amounts of monies to the both of them. (Sherlock has no desire to know the whys of their circumstances – whether, in addition to greed, their actions are due to incentives, or blackmail, or outright threats; all he needs to know is that they’re beholden to the dictates of his enemy's network and any bounties they dangle, and are therefore a potential threat to himself if he returns, and to his friends.)

He arrived in the Tibetan Himalayas three days previous, but he’s had to wait impatiently to implement his objectives, betrayed by his body, waiting to gradually shed the debilitating effects of altitude sickness, in his muscles, his stomach, his lungs. He grudgingly admits to himself that the downtime, however, was probably necessary, allowing him to catch his breath in more ways than just the one that's so currently urgent.

The last fortnight had seen him – as Gabriel Vernet, a director at a French biopharmaceuticals start-up – in an unrelentingly tense journey in which he’d conducted business, fake as well as real, in Singapore, Hanoi, Hong Kong, Macau, and then through Sichuan to Chengdu for the flight to Lhasa. He’s been traveling on papers and an operative legend courtesy of the British government for this leg of his odyssey; while he prefers to chart his own course, unencumbered by the high-handed and condescending auditing of his brother, he had conceded to his better wisdom of seeking aid from London while being shadowed by ever-present governmental representatives of the People’s Republic of China -- as well as floating in and out of view of particularly vicious groups of gangsters operating in Southeast Asia.

His knowledge of Mandarin has been essential in keeping his forward movement going; it helped Vernet to facilitate cooperation from the sources he sought out, high and low. It also allowed him to expand his reconnaissance, especially when those on whom he was eavesdropping assumed that the sharply-dressed businessman within earshot was unable to understand their conversation. As a result, he’s obtained a wide-angle view of activities that he might not have been aware of otherwise, beyond his immediate remit. He’s learned, for example, from ancillary figures, of Chinese mobsters from Fujian, who have been tearing through various states in the U.S., muscling their way into the astonishingly lucrative illicit cannabis market that has accompanied legalization. 

He’d crossed cyber-paths again with the Mexican cartel he’d come across digging through the dark internet in Tallinn – the one funding Nigerian meth labs to supply Asian buyers. Here, it’s reversed: Fujian gangsters are using the cartel to smuggle thousands of Chinese workers into the United States to produce illicit drugs –  trafficked in to do agricultural labor at burgeoning marijuana grow sites. Trapped by fences, surveillance cameras, and guards with guns and machetes, the captive immigrants create tens of billions of dollars alone in states such as Oklahoma – a location that's an attractive target due to the abundance of cheap land, the lack of regulations on the size of cannabis farms, and a scarcity of police personnel with the language capabilities needed to translate communications and infiltrate networks. For what it might be worth, Sherlock had passed along what he’d learned to the CIA’s Crime and Narcotics Center.

He’ll be on a tight schedule in Shigatse today, needing to collect photographic evidence of the illegal mine, and still leave time enough to make it to the railroad station platform, and mingle inconspicuously amongst the groups boarding the local train bound for Lhasa. Once he's settled aboard, he’ll add the pictures to the files of documentary evidence he’s carrying on his mobile, and, as they near the city, he’ll press send and deliver the folder to one of the corporation’s higher-ups who is eager to rise even higher. Once the recipient verifies the information contained in the anonymous gift, he’ll be thrilled to gain credit as the conduit for the revelations it contains to his superiors in Beijing. 

They’ve made good time on the road, and Sherlock stands up and stretches, releasing the kinks in his back, and jogging in place to get his adrenaline running. In his worn camping gear, he’s dressed completely different from Vernet, in his bespoke suits, with his expensive leather briefcase, and the expected Rolex watch. 

The fact that copper mines require supplies of water will lend him the needed cover afforded by yet another identity – there are wetlands in the area, and it is unsurprising that a Canadian wildlife biologist on an international team will be there on foot, surveying the habitat of the black-necked crane. If anyone questions him, he’ll indicate that each of the members of the team have temporarily spread out to cover a greater area. There has been a great deal of anger, within Tibet and worldwide, at the damage done to the plateau’s environment due to China’s resource extraction agenda and its urbanization policies– the protections that the PRC is extending to the vulnerable black-necked crane population have been a public relations plus for them. The birds are currently in the vicinity, completing their breeding cycle, and as long as he can get in and out quickly, Dr. William Scott’s presence is likely to pass with little scrutiny, as long as his papers are in order. 

Several hours later, Sherlock is relieved that his tracking efforts have paid off with actionable evidence – meaning that there will be no need to scramble for a new plan. After verifying that his file has been successfully delivered, he slumps in his seat, stubbornly indifferent to releasing himself from being on high alert. He knows that letting down his guard is when sloppiness can creep in and mistakes made, but having been awake for more than 24 hours and in action all day long at an altitude that still leaves him easily winded, relentlessly reminding him that breathing is problematic, is taking its toll. One last detail – dropping his mobile so that it lands on the train tracks when he exits – and then, in less than an hour, he can be seated in the hotel's oxygen lounge and restore his body and mind.

As they near the station, he shoulders his rucksack, ready to act out the fiction that he’s attached to one of the groups he’s sat nearby, and pulls out his mobile in order to remove the sim card. But when the screen lights up after he turns it over in his hand, he’s startled to find a text message notification -- receiving messages is not supposed to happen, ever, on this unit. No one has the number, save one person. This is not good. This is very much not good.

He takes in and releases several breaths to try and lower his pulse rate, hoping that when he clicks on the icon that he’ll find nothing more dramatic than someone misdirecting their text. At first glance, the message does appear to be irrelevant; at second glance, however, it is evident that the innocuous platitude it contains is negated by the fact that it is written in code.

His anxiety spikes at deciphering the communique: emergency action needed, abandon the hotel -- which means he'll not be returning to the inviting bed, the soft pillows, the warm blanket. There is no indication of why, or of what comes next, other than that he’ll be met at the station by a man who will identify himself as a tour leader from the Council for the Preservation of Sacred Alpine Cranes, and that he is to reply in Mandarin that he was honored to have seen four pairs of the noble birds nesting safely when he inspected the field site.

Other than this terse instruction, he has no idea what he’ll find once he leaves the train, and whether or not he is walking into a trap. And as he gazes out the window at the dark clouds beginning to gather in the east, he sees that the weather may be turning against him as well.

........................................................

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper

@helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk

@topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @meetinginsamarra

@solarmama-plantsareneat @bluebellofbakerstreet @dragonnan @safedistancefrombeingsmart @jolieblack

@msladysmith @ninasnakie @riversong912 @dapetty

.............................................................................

[fwckriley]

Just a suggestion but how about a fic where Ghost is incredibly protective over the reader but doesn’t realise it’s because he’s actually in love with her

Simping for this man I swear 🧎‍♀️

The Trials and Tribulations of Being in Love Pt 1.

──────────── ❖ ────────────

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Word Count: 4.098

──────────── ❖ ────────────

He shouldn't have come. This mission was hers, and hers alone. When they told her that Ghost had requested to accompany her on the mission, at first she felt angry, but after they embarked together, that feeling diminished. It was comforting to have someone familiar by her side, of course, she would never admit to him that she was grateful. She and Ghost had participated in previous missions together. However, as much as his presence pleased her, she was still angry that he had interfered in her mission. She refused to talk to him, but he didn't seem affected. Honestly, he even seemed to like it.

She was assigned to investigate an international arms trafficking led by a dealer whose identity was unknown. Her task was to find out who the dealer was, where he was, and to prevent the sale of weapons into the hands of Iranian military.

They had just landed at Tengah Air Base in Singapore. As she and Ghost got off the aircraft, the hot sun of Singapore hit their faces, indicating it was already late. The heat was strong, but there was a gentle breeze that made the weather pleasant. Tengah Air Base was bustling, with many people coming and going. Planes took off and landed, generating a deafening noise that seemed never to cease. There was a crowd of uniformed military personnel running back and forth, transporting equipment and luggage. Some were waiting in line to board one of the planes. Others chatted in groups, laughing and smoking. Some civilian workers in orange uniforms carried boxes and equipment into one of the hangars, while a supply truck entered the base, raising clouds of dust. Soon, a local-looking man greeted them with a polite gesture and signaled for her and Ghost to follow him. He led them to a discreet black car parked near the runway and opened the door for them to get in. The inside of the vehicle was cool and comfortable, a relief from the heat outside.

The agent seemed nervous, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he tried to maintain small talk, but his voice trembled with anxiety. Ghost remained silent, seeming lost in his own thoughts, his face expressionless. Meanwhile, she answered a question or two with disinterest, looking out at the urban landscape passing by. The tall buildings of Singapore rose majestically in the distance, forming an imposing silhouette against the sky. The streets were filled with hurried cars, blaring horns, and pedestrians rushing to escape the chaotic traffic.

Upon arriving at the hotel, which was half an hour away from the city, she and Ghost headed to their assigned room. The environment was simple, with rustic wooden furniture and white walls, without great luxuries or extravagant decorations. She observed the room, noticing details such as the two single beds with white sheets and a small built-in closet in the wall. Upon closing the door to the room, she sighed deeply, feeling the fatigue from the long flight and the confusion of time zones. Her eyes wandered around the room, noticing the open window and the fresh breeze that came in, bringing with it the scent of the forest. With a quick movement, she threw her bag on the bed and turned to Ghost, who was organizing the baggage in the room. He had taken most of her baggage. She didn't even argue against it.

"It's not the best room I've ever stayed in, but it's better than nothing," she commented with a smirk. Ghost simply nodded his head without saying a word.

She approached the window, admiring the vast green expanse of the forest that stretched out before her. The sun still shone brightly in the sky, giving a golden hue to the surroundings. With her hands resting on the windowsill, she felt the breeze hit her face, bringing a slight relief. Turning around, she walked towards her bed, pulling out the black folder she had brought with her. With agile fingers, she carefully opened it, revealing the detailed information about the arms trafficking operation that was inside. Her eyes quickly scanned the pages, absorbing every detail.

She looks at Ghost and asks, "So, what do you have in mind?"

"We need a contact in Singapore, someone who can give us information without raising suspicions."

She crosses her arms and retorts sarcastically, "Oh, is that all? That easy?"

Ghost turns around and faces her.

"No, it's not easy. That's why you're here."

"Oh, and here I was thinking I was on vacation," she says sarcastically. He rolls his eyes and moves away, going to the window.

After a few minutes of silence, she looks at Ghost and says, "There's a guy I worked with once. I met him in..."

"Is he trustworthy?"

She shrugs.

"I trust him as much as I trust you."

Ghost snorted and turns his face back to the window, saying nothing.

"I'll call him and see what I can do," she replied as she got up from the bed and went to a more private place.

❖

After a few failed attempts, she finally managed to arrange a meeting at a bar in the city. When she returned to the room, she found Ghost sitting on the edge of the bed tinkering with his equipment. She approached him and informed him about the scheduled meeting.

"I got it. He wants to meet me at eight in a bar at Marina Bay," she said with a satisfied smile.

“Okay, I'll get ready,” Ghost replied, already getting up from the bed.

“You were not invited, Ghost,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He looked at her as if challenging her to stop him.

"Ghost, seriously. First, he's my contact and a really difficult guy to deal with. He's going to be suspicious if someone he doesn't know shows up, especially if that person is six feet three inches tall and looks like a damn refrigerator wearing a weird skeleton balaclava." As she spoke, her tone of voice increased, not quite yelling, but her previous bad mood was becoming more evident. She stopped herself before continuing. "Second, they might recognize you. And nobody can know we have a SAS lieutenant here, got it? It'll ruin the mission."

He stared at her for a long time. She could see him struggling with his thoughts. After a few seconds, he simply shook his head and went back to tinkering with his gear.

"As you wish," he said emotionlessly. "But you'll keep me updated."

"I'll keep you updated," she repeated.

"And you'll behave. And if anything goes wrong, you'll let me know immediately and find shelter," he continued.

"Whatever you say, goes," she assured him.

He nodded. "Get ready."

And as ordered, she promptly started to get ready for the meeting. She dressed carefully, wearing a discreet outfit and no flashy accessories, so as not to draw attention from the regular customers of the bar.

As she entered the bar, she felt a bit anxious. The loud music mixed with the sound of lively conversations and glasses being placed on tables. The dim lights made it difficult to see the surroundings. She walked towards the counter, where she ordered a drink and observed the environment carefully. Small tables and uncomfortable chairs were filled with a variety of people. Minutes later, her old contact arrived at the bar and he immediately recognized her. He looked older, but equally handsome, his dark skin contrasting with his elegant purple suit. Not at all flashy, she thought. They greeted each other with a nod and sat at a more secluded table, where they could talk more privately.

❖

After the meeting, she returned to the hotel. Ghost was checking his weapons and communication equipment again, a habit he learned over the years in the SAS. He did it a thousand times during missions, always trying to make sure everything was perfect. The only illumination came from a weak and yellow lamp, leaving the room with a dark tone. His bed was full of guns. She entered the room, closing the door softly. He turned around abruptly, holding his pistol firmly. Their eyes met, and he lowered the gun as soon as he recognized her.

"It’s me," she identified herself. Ghost sighed and turned his attention back to his equipment, without offering any response or greeting.

She approached and sat at the table, where there were documents and maps spread out.

"So, what do we have?" he asked, without looking up from the equipment.

"He said the guy we're looking for is known as The Merchant, but he doesn't know how to find him. However, if we want to find out more, we could start by looking for the port of Singapore. Apparently, it's an important trafficking point," she explained, pointing to the map.

“Which means it’s heavily guarded.”

“Wouldn't be fun if it wasn't.” She said with a smile “There’s more. He said he heard that in two days a group of Iranian military officials will arrive to make the weapons purchase.”

“Matches up with the info Laswell gave me,” Ghost said.

“I can try to infiltrate the operation and gather more intel on the flow of weapons and how they’re being transported.” She proposed, confidently.

Ghost nodded in agreement.

“Not going to be easy,” he replied.

She looked at the map attentively, searching for a point of entry.

“Where do you think we can get in?”

“Through the fish loading dock, it's less monitored and gives access to the restricted area of the port,” Ghost suggested.

“And what about the Iranians arriving in two days?” she asked.

"We have to act fast. If we infiltrate now, there will be fewer people present and the darkness will give us an advantage. In the meantime, I'll stay in a strategic position, providing cover and support in case something goes wrong."

She nodded her head, already thinking about the details of the operation. She grabbed her computer and began analyzing the port images, looking for possible weak spots. Ghost approached, getting so close that she could feel the heat of his body. She tried to ignore it as much as possible and continued.

"I don't like this," said Ghost, pointing to one of the surveillance cameras in the port. "They have eyes everywhere."

"If we know where the cameras are, we can avoid them and move more easily."

"It's risky," said Ghost, "You'll have to be very careful..."

"Understood," she said, getting up. She began checking her weapons and equipment, while Ghost prepared his sniper rifle.

"Is everything ready?" she asked.

"Yes, what about you?"

She nodded her head.

"Then let's go."

The two of them left the hotel room and headed for the port of Singapore.

❖

It was midnight and the streets were practically deserted, with few cars circulating that part of the city. The port of Singapore was a few kilometers away and they headed there on foot.

"There's an observation point over there," Ghost said, pointing to a small building near the port. "I'm heading there."

"Great," she said, giving a mischievous smile. "Let's have some fun."

"Stay focused, agent. Security here is tight. One mistake and everything could go downhill."

"Yes, I know," she replied, with a more serious tone.

"Wait for me to give you the signal before you enter," Ghost said.

“Understood.”

“Take care of yourself. I don't want to have to carry your dead body around.”

“Oh, you're so sweet. I'm touched. Really.” She placed her hand over her heart in a theatrical gesture. He ignored her.

They parted ways and went in opposite directions.

When she arrived at the port, she successfully infiltrated it with Ghost's help in avoiding the security cameras. She crept through the shadows, avoiding the most brightly lit and crowded areas. With every step, she looked around, searching for signs of surveillance or alarms. Ghost silently accompanied her on the other side of the radio, giving precise instructions and alerting her to potential dangers only when needed. Typical, she thought.

The night was dark, with no stars in the sky. There was a cool breeze blowing, carrying with it the salty smell of the sea. The stacked containers reached impressive heights, creating a kind of maze. The port lights only partially illuminated the area, creating deep and dark shadows that moved with the wind. She walked quietly, staying low and hidden among the cargo.

Meanwhile, Ghost was stationed in a nearby building overlooking the port. The building he was in was old and had dirty, dusty windows. He used his sniper rifle to keep an eye on the entire area and provide cover for her. There was an open laptop next to him, flashing with real-time images from various security cameras scattered throughout the port.

"You've reached the entry point," he said through the radio. "There are no guards in the area. Enter and proceed forward."

She followed the instructions, advancing towards the entrance. When she arrived, she hid in the shadows and looked around, checking for any more guards or cameras.

"No sign of activity," she said, without pausing. "I'm entering now."

"Be careful," said Ghost.

She let out a mocking laugh.

"Don't worry, Ghost. I won't screw everything up."

"I hope not," he said, clearly annoyed.

"Relax," she said, trying to ease the tension. "I have everything under control."

He didn't respond. She knew he wasn't happy with the situation, but she couldn't help but find it funny.

"You know, Ghost," she said, the malice in her voice, "I love it when you're mad. Gets my blood pumping."

"Don't start with that now," he replied, in a warning tone.

She laughed again. "I know you like it."

He sighed and turned off the radio. She laughed again, feeling victorious. She knew she had managed to irritate him, but she also knew he would never leave her in danger.

"There's a guard coming your way. Get behind those containers," he whispered through the earpiece.

As she approached the heart of the port, activity increased. She noticed an area with reinforced security and armed guards, likely where the weapons shipments were kept. She knew she needed to get closer to get a clearer view. Carefully, she went unnoticed by security guards and walked through dark alleys, alert to any sign of danger.

"You're getting close to the restricted area," Ghost warned. "Be cautious."

She approached slowly, observing the guards' activity and patrol routes. Still hidden in the shadows, she prepared to move when the right moment came.

"There's a guard coming your way," Ghost whispered again.

She quickly hid and waited patiently as the guard passed, unaware of her presence. When he moved away, she advanced again. Finally, she reached the restricted area and peered through a crack in the crates. Inside, she saw a row of reinforced containers, guarded by several armed men. She focused on her breathing, remaining calm and focused.

"Are you seeing anything?" Ghost asked through the radio.

"They're guarding the weapons containers, just as we suspected," she whispered back.

"Okay, I'll cover you from here," Ghost said. "But be careful."

With Ghost's words in mind, she carefully planned her next move. She needed to get closer to get a clear view of what was inside the containers. Cautiously, she approached the entrance of the restricted area, always hiding in the shadows and avoiding the lights.

"Ghost, I think I found something. I'm going to investigate," she said to him through the earpiece.

Ghost remained in his position, watching her every move, ready to intervene if anything went wrong. Meanwhile, she advanced cautiously, dodging the henchmen and hiding behind crates and containers. She observed two men talking in hushed tones near a large green container. She approached stealthily, trying to listen in on what they were saying, but before she could get close enough, one of the men spotted her. The man was about to shout an alert when Ghost took him out. She drew her pistol and fired, hitting the other man squarely. She approached the green container and opened it carefully, finding a large quantity of weapons and ammunition, all American-made and bearing the seals of a US arms industry.

"They're trafficking American weapons to the Iranians," she whispered.

"Copy that. Get out of there fast. There's a group nearby," Ghost replied.

She carefully closed the container and moved stealthily through the port, remaining alert to every movement. Despite the orders to leave, she decided to hide and wait for the group to pass by her. She advanced cautiously, following the group from a distance, hiding behind crates and containers.

Ghost tried to persuade her through the earpiece to turn back and wait for a more propitious moment, but she ignored him. She arrived at a warehouse, where men were loading boxes onto a truck. She watched as they loaded the boxes onto the truck. Unlike the boxes in the container, these bore the flag of Germany.

"These weapons are German," she said to Ghost through the earpiece. However, he didn't respond. She tried to communicate with him a few more times, but still no answer.

That was when Ghost appeared by her side, surprising her.

"You shouldn't have come alone," he said in a reproachful tone. "You're putting your life at risk."

"I thought we could find out more, and guess what? I was right," she nodded towards the boxes marked with the German flag.

He held her arm tightly and pulled her close to him.

"Let's get out of here before we're discovered," he said urgently. "Several cars arrived with guards. Were you listening to me? I told you to wait."

He looked at her with anger. If she didn't know him, she could swear there was concern in his eyes.

"I was following a lead that I deemed important, and I was right. There are American and German weapons here," she replied, trying to justify her actions.

"You don't understand the gravity of the situation. Now we're surrounded," retorted Ghost, his voice growing louder. "Tell me, Y/N, how do you plan to get us out of here?"

He never called her by her first name. She opened her mouth to argue and closed it several times.

"I'll figure something out," she finally said.

"Oh, you'll figure something out. Are you going to teleport us?" he teased.

"You're being impossible, seriously."

"I'm only being impossible because you're being irresponsible," he countered.

The two continued arguing in a louder tone, until they caught the attention of the guards, who began to approach them. Ghost and her stepped back, but the guarda had already spotted them. They drew their guns and began shooting. One of them aimed in her direction, and Ghost quickly moved her aside. Quickly the guards went on alert.

He kept a firm stance and a serious expression as he moved with agility, trying to find cover between the boxes. She could feel her heart racing, adrenaline taking over her body. She tried to argue with Ghost, but he seemed to have taken the lead of the situation and didn't want to hear her suggestions.

"We don't have time for this now. We need to get out of here before they find us," said Ghost, trying to find a way out. "Let's go."

They moved quickly and managed to escape the location before the henchman reached them. As they ran through the port, shots echoed behind them.

"Damn the moment I decided to follow you!" Ghost shouted, still angry with her. "I told you it wasn't safe, but you never listen to me."

"I never asked you to come on this mission in the first place," she retorted, annoyed with him.

"If I hadn't come, you'd be dead by now."

"We won't get anything done if we keep blaming each other," she said.

"I'm not blaming us. I'm blaming you," he said before running towards a clear path to the left. Without hesitation, she followed him and both entered a maze of containers, using them as cover while exchanging shots with the henchmen.

One of the shots grazed her arm, making her groan in pain.

"Are you okay?" Ghost asked, concerned.

"I'm fine. Don't worry," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she reloaded her gun.

They kept moving, searching for an exit. The shots decreased, giving them a chance to catch their breath. They hid behind a container, regaining their breath and assessing the situation.

In a stroke of luck, she noticed an open gate and pointed it out to Ghost. He looked in the indicated direction and, without hesitation, started running towards it. She followed him, her quick steps echoing on the ground. The gate was huge. There was an armed guard standing in front of it, but for some reason, he seemed distracted. The open gate led to a wide road with many cars passing by. As they approached the gate, the guard finally noticed their presence and tried to close it, but it was too late. Ghost hit him with a knife, and he fell to the ground soon after.

They ran down the street trying to get rid of the guards who were chasing them. When they saw the entrance to the subway ahead, they approached it without hesitation and entered. People moved away, frightened, as they passed by. She couldn't help but think of the guards who were still chasing them, looking over her shoulder at all times to check if they were being followed. At one point, one of the guards managed to catch up to her and grab her, but she freed herself with an elbow strike to his rib and a kick to his stomach. In the midst of the confusion, she also managed to grab the cell phone of the guard who had grabbed her.

She looked at Ghost and spoke in a low and urgent tone:

"We need to find a way to get rid of them and get out of here."

"I agree," replied Ghost, watching the crowded platform of people coming and going.

They jumped the turnstile and ran to the train platform that was about to leave.

"Let's take the next train," she said to him. Ghost nodded in agreement.

They got on the subway car and concealed themselves amidst the crowd, blending in with the passengers. Glancing out the window, they saw the guards running towards them. The subway car was packed with people, all squeezing together for space. The air was permeated with a mix of sweat and metal. She and Ghost blended themselves in with the passengers. The guards showed up on the opposite end of the subway car, scanning around. Then, the gunfight erupted. Gunshots reverberated through the subway car, and the passengers shrunk in fear, trying to find a secure place to shield themselves. She and Ghost attempted to dodge the bullets and retaliate, but swiftly realized they were outnumbered. They spotted an emergency door close by and didn't think twice before trying their luck. With a shove from Ghost, the door swung open, and they hurled themselves into the dark tunnel, clueless of where they were headed.

Finally, they saw an entrance to a ventilation duct and crawled inside, trying to hide. Her hearts were still beating, and her breaths were tired as she and Ghost recovered from the escape.

The ventilation duct was dark and narrow, but it would do. She and Ghost squeezed into the tight space, trying to find a more comfortable position. The air was stuffy and dusty. She looked at Ghost and saw that he had a tense expression, probably still processing what had happened. They fell silent, listening to the sound of their own breaths and trying to detect any sounds that could indicate the presence of the guards. Time seemed to pass slowly, and she wondered how long it would be safe to stay there. After half an hour, Ghost spoke:

"You ruined everything. You could have gotten us killed."

"We're running against time, it seemed like a good idea to try and find out more intel. I didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice," Ghost retorted. "You could have waited for more information, for a better plan. But no, you always have to do things your way and on your own time."

She sighed. She knew she had made a mistake, but she couldn't change what had already happened.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down.

"I hope so," he said.

──────────── ❖ ────────────

if you've read this far, thank you so much for your patience!!! i know there are mistakes, both in typing and in english, but please keep in mind that english is not my native language. I hope you enjoyed it. ❥ ❥ ❥

[enihk-writes]

[before the year ends]

seasonal fics : 除夕 (chú xī) / lunar new year's eve edition

paring: various!hwasan men x gn!reader

summary: things that happen on the last day of the year.

characters: chung myung (can be read as both pbss and mhdd) // chung mun // chung jin // tang bo // tang gunak // jang ilso // jin hyeon // lee songbaek // jin geumryong // baek cheon

author's note: my personal music recommendations for the day are lovers in seoul by off the menu , hot potato by n.flying , coconut love by seoulmoon , mercury by bye bye badman and t + tik tak tok by silica gel feat. So!YoON! (doing this for fun because my other hobby is looking for new music and putting them in a playlist partly because one of my teenage dreams was to open up a cd shop in an art street or own a music-vinyl brunch cafe by the seaside ugggh but you need money like do you know how expensive seaside properties are in singapore!!! i don't have that cash!!! so i have to work!!!! fuck!!!!)

CHUNG MYUNG doesn't like to be cooped up indoors during the festive period. so that afternoon he slipped out to visit the next town over, hearing about their night market and looking forward to getting drunk off his rocker before returning home. only to come face-to-face with you. to his credit he tried to divert your attention to slip away with a bold-faced lie but to be honest, he isn't very good at that. he ends up letting you tag along to buy your silence. which wasn't that bad of a decision — he found himself enjoying the private time he had with you more than he'd expected, like walking through the markets with pinkies interlocked, visiting taverns and teahouses getting mistaken for a couple to get discounts, even the passionate drunken kisses you both shared on the inn balcony which left him quite dazed. when he gets back he would have to have a talk with you about what happened here. though right now he's a little preoccupied with leaving marks all up your neck, hands under your clothes going to places he probably shouldn't, revelling in your embarrassment a little too much. thank goodness he had the foresight to rent out a room to stay in so the both of you could do whatever you wanted in here to the heart's content all night long.

CHUNG MUN watches as you scurry around the sect grounds checking in on the workers who were all preparing for the banquet that was to be held over the new year. as the sect leader he shouldn't interrupt another elder's duties, but as your husband he wanted you to pay attention to him too — it was new years eve and your spouse can't even ask for some alone time with you? you were so cruel, was this how he was to spend the last day of the year? he sighed and turned back to his papers, finishing up with his own work until it was finally time for bed. you met him in the front of your shared house, he finds himself cracking a smile when you bury your face into his chest, he walks you over to sit together on the bench, where you plop your head down on his lap, very much like a certain youngest, pouring your heart out on the annoyances that you've faced today so what has your dear husband have in mind to reward their hardworking partner? the man only chuckles at your ranting, running his fingers until you fell asleep, carrying your tired body to tuck you in bed. he looks over at your peaceful form one more time, kisses your hand and leaves for his own quarters to retire for the night.

CHUNG JIN had been pulled out from under the pile of books he's buried under to take a day off at the behest of the other elders and disciples. not knowing what to do, he hovers around your side, not really wanting to go down the mountain without a solid plan. you thought he looked a little like a lost sparrow then, so you let him stay around as you went about your day. he aided you with small tasks here and there — wasn't he supposed to be on break? old habits die hard, you supposed. he ended up helping you finish your job earlier than intended, bringing the leftovers from the kitchen along, the two of you headed down the forested path at the back of the mountain to wile away the rest of the afternoon as you ate the food and engaged in small talk about nothing in particular. the sun felt warm on your skin, and as it began to set, the sounds of the flowing stream nearby lulled the two elders into a dreamless sleep.

TANG BO stifled a laugh as he looked at your sorry state. only an idiot falls sick on new year's eve — was what he'd told you. you wanted to strangle him right then and there, never mind that he was your husband. he offered to nurse you for the day, supposedly from the kindness of his heart. bullshit. this guy had something up his sleeve, you were so sure of it. but whatever you thought he'd do never happened. your husband truly did take care of you that whole day. he'd wipe off your cold sweat, change towels, feed you food and medication on time, among other things. you thought he'd turn over a new leaf and was just about to praise him when he snickers at you again. maybe you should get sick more often, you're so much nicer when you're quiet like this. too bad for him your fingers were faster as you shove them up his nose to choke him in retaliation. fortune favours the just. the next morning you woke up feeling good as new — your fever had gone away just in time to celebrate the new year. your husband, on the other hand, didn't seem to be doing too well, seemingly catching your cold from yesterday. hmph, serves him right for teasing you like that.

TANG GUNAK could not catch a break even on new year's eve. there was always work to do, the world did not stop on holidays, after all. you slipped into the room quietly with refreshments in hand, hoping to get him to take a short break from his paperwork. the man had sharp ears — recognising the weighted rhythm of your footsteps even as you were on the far end of the hallway. he sets down his brush, getting up to greet you. my love, he'd call out softly, expertly placing away the tray in your hands. you laugh as he pulls you into his embrace, his face burrowing into your shoulder. you try to hug him back with as much vigour you could muster, pulling away just so you could place a few pecks on his face. it wasn't a very long break, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. he sipped on the tea you brewed, listening to your excited recounting of a new novel you had been reading. new years was a time to give thanks for the blessings in life, and he was more than thankful for the way your shoulder felt pressed against his arm as you two sat side by side.

JANG ILSO cared little for the festivities. he wasn't in the mood for any banquet, or party or whatever loud activity. he had been itching to do something, but he couldn't pinpoint what he wanted to do and the idea of going outside annoyed him. you didn't really know, nor cared to find out about your employer's stormy tantrum going on right at that moment. unfortunately for you, you were one of his go-to people to piss off and annoy whenever he wanted to cause trouble. your boss was a temperamental man, and you always walked on eggshells around him. little did you know that you were third on his list of people he liked, so in the off chance that you did piss him off, he wasn't going to get rid of you. not that soon or quickly anyways. he barged into your office with attendants trailing behind him with boxes of drinks, food and entertainment for that evening. he was here to bother you, if you so kindly didn't mind. most of what happened was blurry — you only remembered drinking the sweet wine, going down far too easily, possibly knocking over papers and ink all over your desk and then passing out. the next time you came to, you were in a guest bedroom near your boss' own. the hangover medicine and new clothes already laid out on the table for you. there was no way you had created a moment that your boss could hold over your head as blackmail. no, you detested the teasing that was sure to come from him in the coming year.

JIN HYEON had been out on an errand on behalf of the elders, and finally, he was going back to wudang just in time for new years. he stops by the small diner in the town next door, he often had his meals here whenever he's going out, outwardly he said it's because he liked the lotus root soup with pork ribs served with warm rice. in reality, he just wanted to find a chance to talk to you, the owner — a familiar face he had known since both of you were mere apprentices. though now you had taken over the restaurant your adoptive grandfather had left behind for you while he had risen up to the rank of a second-grade disciple. the diner was small, and the business was decent enough to make ends meet, but it wasn't so busy that you didn't have time to sit across him to have a short chat before he headed off. you asked him if he would stay and visit the night market this year. he shook his head sadly, feeling bad that he was turning down your offer yet again. you shook your disappointment off, opting to change the topic. the hour passed far too quickly, and he had to report back to the elders before night fall. you walk him towards the door, just as the wind picks up from where your back was turned, pushing you into his chest. the man takes the opportunity to pull you a little closer, accidentally placing a peck on your forehead. you didn't think he'd be this affectionate today but who cared? it was new years eve and it's been a while since he had walked you home. maybe next year you could ask him again to come with you to the night market.

LEE SONGBAEK had gone to his hometown for the new year celebrations. he had been given permission by the elders to do so, along with a good majority of the other disciples. things had been really quiet back in the sect with nobody really wanting to do anything with them. speaking of which, he hadn't seen his family in years by now, and he wondered how they were all doing. he didn't plan to spend too much time — have dinner, catch up, stay overnight and leave the next morning. he didn't expect to see that you would also be in his house, helping out with the new year's eve dinner. he could smell the dough and sesame paste drying out in the sun for the tang-yuan they'd all have later. actually, he thinks most of the village was congregated at his house. the disciples who had tagged along with him were a little taken aback at the size of the crowd, much to his embarrassment. he didn't think his village would be so stoked to have him back on new years with his sect brothers. you slipped out of the kitchen to greet him as the elders fussed over the boys that had come to visit. he leans over to greet you, feeling a small smile pull at his lips when you tousle his hair. his original plan might have been a little thwarted, but since you were here, he didn't really mind. ah, when he goes back to the sect, he should ask if the tailor was accepting any apprentices — if he were, and you came over, he might see you around more often in the coming year.

JIN GEUMRYONG wished he was anywhere else but here right now. but, as the eldest and prodigal son he should behave appropriately. he slips out of the banquet hall at the first opportunity, making shoddy excuses like needing to go to the restroom. he finds a spot in the quietest part of the estate, taking a moment to collect himself from the incessant social interaction he's had the whole day. soft footsteps approach him — really? he feels annoyed, but tries to reign back his distaste when he sees your smiling face beaming at him. go away. he tells you, not in the mood to deal with whatever you were about to drag him into. please? you'd beg, your hand pulling at his arm to get him on his feet. there was something you wanted to show him, and if he didn't go with you now, he was going to miss it! the man agreed reluctantly, letting you take him to the lake behind the hills. the night sky was clear and he could see every sparkling star in the sky. you sit on a fallen log, seemingly waiting for something to happen. he sits right by you, choosing not to question your actions. and then — there it was. the stars fell from the sky one after another, painting the night in long white painter's lines. he'd never seen anything like this in his life thus far, and he might not ever see it again. but it didn't matter. when you asked, doesn't it look amazing? he could only hum, unable to take his eyes off you all while your gaze was turned to the spectacle in the skies.

BAEK CHEON, for the life of him, can't decide which tassel he wanted to buy and ended up just getting a roll of thread in plum-blossom pink to make one on his own. the handiwork was clumsy, clearly amateurish with the bronze coin woven into the accessory. it certainly resembled the shape of a tassel — if you didn't look at the finer details too closely and for too long. you could see him look embarrassed at the quality and was already regretting giving it to you. but how could you not want his sincere gift? you loved it, flaws and all, because it was from him and you wanted to be reminded of the idea that this perfectionist still could make mistakes. you pull him down for a kiss. and then another. and another, until you were peppering his whole face in kisses because your heart couldn't handle this gap in his personality. your poor love, look at how red his face had become. he didn't know whether to be happy that you liked his gift this much, or feel shy at the public show of affection in a place where everyone in the sect could possibly see? you can't help but snicker mischievously as you skipped away from the scene — leaving the poor boy in a flustered mess.

[harley-sunday]

Feels Like Home [03]

Summary: When an unexpected three-week break between Monza and Singapore finds Daniel back on his farm in Perth he’s desperate to use this time to clear his mind, figure out his future in Formula One, and find his way back. He didn’t expect a new neighbour, a sassy two-year old, and three alpacas would make him realise that sometimes, what you’re looking for is right in front of you.

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language

Word count: 4.6k

AN: Daniel in this chapter is just... Oof. I hope you like it, if you could take some time to leave a comment that would mean so much :) ♥

Masterlist

“Alright, Boss,” Daniel jokes with a wide grin, “tell me what to do.” It’s his first official day as her farmhand and even though she told him yesterday what she expects from him he might have been too busy looking at her to really hear anything she said. 

“Well,” she draws out, looking from him to the alpacas and back, “it’s Sunday, so it’s time for their weekly bath, maybe you could-”

“I’m sorry, what?” Daniel eyes the girls suspiciously, not sure how he feels about bathing three killing machines who could take him out in a second. Try explaining that to Blake, he thinks to himself with a wry smile.

“Well yeah, I mean, they’re outside all week long, so I usually take them down to the river on Sundays and give them a nice wash.” She nods towards her truck, “There’s a bottle of shampoo and a brush in my truck.”

Ok. He’s got this. This is nothing compared to driving a race car at three hundred k’s per hour, right? It’s just three alpacas, and they’ve probably been bathed lots of times before, and if she can do it he surely can. Right? Daniel swallows hard, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand by taking a deep breath, trying not to show fear because he’s convinced the girls will pick up on that and- Ok. One at a time. He'll start with Blanche, she's definitely the least threatening, then Babs, and Betsy last.

“I usually take all three of them at the same time,” she says then. “They get a little antsy when they’re separated.”

Oh. Ok. He risks another glance at the girls who are huddled together in the corner of the paddock, eating some grass and probably having a better time than he is right now. But. One alpaca or three alpacas, same difference, right? So why does his voice come out all high and squeaky when he tells her, “Yeah, nah, no worries.” 

Next to him he can hear her let out a laugh and he’s about to tell her that this might not be the best idea but then her hand is on his arm and she looks up at him with a mischievous smile, “I was just messing with you, Daniel.” 

“Oh, thank God,” he breathes before he composes himself. Or tries to, anyway, “I mean, I was going to do it but-”

“Yeah, nah, I could totally see that,” she jokes, her hand squeezing his arm as she winks at him. “Why don’t you fill up their feeder inside and I’ll get started on cleaning out the shed?”

“That I can do,” Daniel agrees easily enough. He takes the bucket of grains out of her truck and starts making his way over to the shed. As soon as he opens the gate he can see the alpacas hurrying over to him and so he makes a quick dash to the shed to avoid being trampled to death by a herd of angry alpacas. Or at least, three very hungry ones. Still they catch up with him and he lets out an embarrassing yelp when Blanche head buts him in the back, “Jeepers, Blanche!”

“She likes you,” she says from where she’s leaning on her pitch fork. 

“I like you too,” Daniel tells the white alpaca in a soft voice, trying not to spook her, “but I’m gonna need you to keep your distance, ma’am.” 

***

When you hit the call button you take a deep breath, trying to settle the nerves in your stomach that have formed a nice little knot there ever since Granddad suggested asking Daniel to help you out and gave you his number, and bite your lip while you wait for the call to go through. 

He answers with a hesitant, “Hello?”

“Hi Daniel, it’s-”

“Well, hello neighbour,” he says then and you swear you can feel his megawatt smile beaming at you through the phone. “Everything alright? Is this you calling me to tell me what an excellent job I did today?”

“Uhm, no-” You can’t help but laugh, “But sure. Thank you for today, Daniel. You did an excellent job.”

“Thank you, that sounded very genuine and not at all prompted,” he laughs.

You nod, even though he can’t see you. “I uh-” you clear your throat, trying to get rid of your pinched voice, “I wanted to ask if you maybe could do me a favour tomorrow?”

“Hmm,” he hums in reply and you think you can hear him sit down somewhere, “that depends.”

“On?”

“On what the favour is. I’ve got no problem feeding the girls but if you’re going to tell me that because it’s Monday it’s time for Oscar’s his weekly bath I might-”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, “No.” A little cheeky then, “That’s not until next Friday anyway.” He chuckles and you can feel your nerves settle down a little, “I do have to take Granddad into town tomorrow though. The doctor wants to see him for a follow-up and so I was wondering if you maybe could watch Ellie for an hour or two? Mrs Mackenzie was supposed to watch her but she’s not feeling too well, so- Normally I would take Ellie with me but it’s right around her nap time and she gets a little grumpy when she doesn’t get enough sleep so I’d rather-”

“You want me to hang out with Miss Ellie?”

“Well, she’d be asleep for most of it,” you try to reassure him because he sounds a little- hesitant, maybe. “Really it’s just babysitting her for two hours tops but if you don’t-”

“I’d love to,” he interrupts you quickly. “What time do you need me to come over?”

“We have to leave at one-”

“I’ll be there.”

You can’t help the smile that grows ever wider, “Thank you so much, Dan. I really appre-”

“Stop it,” he counters, no doubt with a grin. “I’m happy to help out.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep from thanking him again and so instead you simply say, “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yep. Catch you later, neighbour.”

***

“Thanks for another great workout, Mikey, it’s been swell,” Daniel says once they’re done with their Monday morning session. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Michael eyes him suspiciously, “You’re awfully chipper today-”

“What?” Daniel chuckles and shrugs, “Am I not allowed to enjoy working out?”

“You are,” Michael draws out, “it’s just that usually you don’t.”

“It was a good workout, mate,” Daniel says as he claps Michael’s back. Of course he knows exactly what brought on his good mood, because he’s been looking forward to babysitting Ellie all day, but he doesn’t necessarily need Michael to know that. 

“Sure,”

“What?” Daniel says again. “Don’t doubt yourself, Mikey. Your workouts are great!”

“I’m not sure what’s going on here,” Michael says, circling his finger in front of Daniel’s chest, “but keep up with the flattery, mate. It’s better than your usual complaining.”

“Awesome.” Daniel risks a quick glance at his watch then and sees it’s already a quarter past twelve and he still needs to shower and- “It’s been swell, mate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yep,” Michael agrees bluntly. He narrows his eyes at Daniel then, “Do I need Blake to schedule a drug test or something?” He lowers his voice, “Are you involved in illegal activities, Dan? I mean, I’m not against the use of CBD oil but I don’t think smoking weed is-”

“Out!” Daniel pushes his friend towards the door with a shake of his head even though he can’t help the smile that tugs on the corners of his mouth, “Don’t be a nosy Nellie, mate. It doesn’t suit you.” 

Michael gives him the finger but then heads to his car and so Daniel turns on his heels and heads for the shower, and if he’s already picked out the outfit he’s going to wear, so what? It’s efficient.

He’s out of the house twenty minutes later and when he pulls up in front of Oscar’s house there’s still ten minutes to spare. Daniel knocks and then lets himself in like he always does, finding his neighbour in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea, “Hiya Oscar.”

“Hi Danny,” Oscar replies, his face lighting up with a smile.

“How you doing, mate?”

“Not too bad,” Oscar agrees easily enough. As always he’s a man of little words and doesn’t really elaborate. Instead he nods to the ceiling, “She’s just putting Ellie to bed, shouldn’t take long.”

“Oh, that’s ok,” Daniel says as he sits down in one of the kitchen chairs after helping himself to a cup of coffee.

“Listen, Dan,” Oscar starts and for some reason Daniel knows whatever comes next is important, “they’ve been through a lot, both of them. It wasn’t easy when Ellie’s dad-” Oscar shakes his head, “That’s not really my story to tell but I need you to understand that she doesn’t trust people easily, so for her to ask you to watch Ellie, the one person who means more to her than anyone, well-” he locks eyes with Daniel, “It’s a big ask from her and a big responsibility for you. Don’t muck about, son. Ok? Not just now, with babysitting Ellie, but with her as well. I might not be as quick as I was before but I won’t hesitate to hunt you down if you ever hurt her.”

“Understood,” Daniel says with a nod because he does. He could tell she was hesitant to accept his help when he first offered it and even more so when she called him yesterday and so he wants to do anything but hurt the trust she’s put in him. 

“Good,” Oscar says, taking another sip of his tea.

When he hears her coming down the stairs he leans in a little closer to Oscar and tells him, “I’m not gonna let her down, promise.”

“That’s a big promise to make, Danny,” Oscar counters with his eyebrows raised.

“I know,” Daniel gives him a big smile, “but I intend to keep it.”

It’s then she walks into the kitchen, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Daniel beams back at her, a little taken aback by how different she looks out of her normal work clothes because even though she’s wearing jeans and a simple black top she looks absolutely gorgeous. He clears his throat and tries not to stare when he asks, “Ellie’s asleep?”

“Yep,” she nods. “Out like a light. I doubt she’ll wake up before we get back but just in case there’s a bottle of milk in the fridge that you just need to heat up and if she wants she can have a banana.”

“Gotcha.”

“You have my number so call me if there’s anything, ok?” She waits until he nods before she casually adds, “She likes you so I don’t think she’ll mind you being there but if she does throw a little tantrum-”

“I’ll call,” Daniel adds, trying to reassure her that he’s got this while still basking in the fact that Ellie likes him. 

She turns towards Oscar then, “Ready to go?”

Daniel helps Oscar to her car and promises once again to call if there’s anything before he heads back inside and settles on the couch with his phone, making good use of his time by catching up on some emails.

Ellie wakes up somewhere around two-thirty and Daniel’s on his feet at her first cry, a little nervous when he walks up the stairs to where Oscar told him her room is. The little girl is sitting in her cot, looking at him with big eyes and so he lowers his voice, trying to let her know it’s ok when he says, “Hi Miss Ellie. How you going?”

Ellie looks up at him, her little eyebrows knitted together as she studies him for a moment, but then she must recognise him because she holds out her hands to him, “Danny.”

“That’s right,” Daniel says as he picks her up and kisses her cheek. “How you going, sleepyhead?”

She leans back a little in his arms, looking over his shoulder, “Momma?”

“Momma’s taking Granddad to see the doctor, sweetheart,” Daniel explains as he gently wipes her hair out of her face. “She’ll be back soon.”

Ellie seems to think about it for a second but then seems content with his answer and lets her head rest against his shoulder, “Milk?”

Daniel laughs, “Yep. Let’s go get you some milk, huh?” He pokes her side then, “And maybe a banana?”

Ellie’s head shoots up, her eyes wide, whispering a quiet, “‘Nana?”

“Banana,” Daniel confirms quietly as he turns around. He makes his way down the stairs carefully before he walks to the kitchen and sits her down in her high chair. 

Ellie’s quietly singing to herself as he waits for the microwave to heat up her bottle and at first he can’t make out what she’s going on about but then the microwave beeps and it’s quiet in the kitchen again and he hears her loud and clear, “Danny, banana. Danny, banana. Danny, banana.” 

Daniel presses a kiss to the top of her head as he puts her bottle down in front of her, “You’re the coolest kid ever, Miss Ellie." When she smiles up at him he grins back at her, "Don’t tell my niece and nephew I said that, ok? Our little secret.”

***

It’s close to three when you pull up to the house and part of you wants to rush inside, to check up on Ellie, and Daniel, but you know you can’t just leave Granddad behind. Instead you turn to him, “I’ll go ask Daniel to come help, ok?”

Your granddad grunts something in reply and you can’t help but smile because you know it’s nothing personal, know it’s just because he hates not being able to do something as simple as getting out of a car on his own and if anything you admire the way he still cares about his independence. 

You hear him continue his rant as you step out of the car but don't really pay it any mind, music coming from the house drawing your attention instead. When you walk past Homer, who's curled up on the old couch on the front porch, he looks at you as if to say he doesn't know what's going on either. You pat his head and tell him, "Good boy," before you let yourself in and head for the kitchen.

The loud music means they haven't heard you come in and so you allow yourself a moment to take it all in - Daniel with the sleeves of his t-shirt pushed up, excitedly showing off his tattoos to Ellie, pointing at them and explaining to her what they are. Ellie seems absolutely enthralled by all the pictures etched into his skin, her little fingers now tracing the lines of a cupid on his arm. You feel something settle inside of your chest as you watch your daughter and Daniel together, both of them so at ease, and it's something you haven’t felt in a long time. Before you have time to explore it some more your daughter spots you and so you push yourself off from where you were leaning against the doorframe and walk over to where Ellie’s sitting in her high chair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Hi bub. You having fun?"

Daniel nods, "She's been like this ever since she woke up half an hour ago," just as Ellie points at Daniel’s tattoo, “Cupid!”

“Yeah, that’s a cupid,” you agree with a smile, trying your hardest not to stare at Daniel's tan arms but failing miserably and so you clear your throat to distract yourself. 

If Daniel notices anything he's kind enough not to mention it and instead puts his sweater back on. Once that's over his head he looks at you with a grin, "What you do to the old man? Leave him behind at the nursing home?"

You laugh and shake your head, "He's in the car. Would you mind helping him out?"

"On it," Daniel says with a click of his tongue, pointing a pair of finger guns at the two of you before he pulls a face and turns around. 

Both you and Ellie watch in silence as he walks out of the kitchen, Ellie letting out a quiet, "Danny," when he turns the corner and you letting out a heavy sigh at the same time. When Ellie looks up at you, you smile back at her, drawing out a "Yeah."

Ellie, bless her, claps her hands in response and then blows a raspberry at you.

You comb your fingers through her hair absentmindedly, "Same, bub-" Another sigh then, "Same."

Daniel and Granddad make it inside not much later, but it’s only Daniel who returns to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair as he says, “He asked me to put him in the living room.”

“He’s a little grumpy,” you whisper with a wink. “Hasn’t had his afternoon nap yet so-” you see-saw your hand and let the rest of that sentence hang in the air unspoken.  

“Gotcha,” Daniel says with a grin, looking a bit unsure of himself. He shakes his head then and points at the window, “I don’t know about you two but maybe we could go for a walk? It’s nice enough outside and I don’t mind stretching my legs for a bit.” 

You look down at Ellie, “You wanna go for a walk, bub?”

Ellie’s eyes light up and she whispers a happy, “Yeah,” before she looks at Daniel, “Come with?”

“Yep,” Daniel nods. “I’m definitely coming with, my friend.”

“I’ll just go get her changed real quick,” you tell Daniel as you pick Ellie up from her seat. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“I’ll wait outside for you,” Daniel offers with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to disturb the old man during his nap.” 

When you come down a little later, Ellie in a pair of pale green dungarees and a fleece made from Alpaca wool, you find Daniel sitting next to Homer on the porch swing, albeit with some distance between them. You can’t help but tease, “Cautious of the dog too, Ricciardo?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies with a nod, rubbing his hands on the fabric of his jeans. “Although I trust him more than I do the alpacas.” 

You click your tongue, “Better not let the girls hear that.” Ellie starts wriggling in your arms and so you put her down, watching as she wobbles over to the apple orchard, where Granddad put up a swing for you in one of the trees when you were Ellie’s age. You look at Daniel and shrug, “Guess we’re going that way.” 

Ellie’s surprisingly quick on her little legs and already waiting for you at the swing by the time you catch up with her. Daniel doesn’t hesitate and picks her up so he can put her into the seat, gently pushing her once she’s in, drawing excited giggles from her, his own smile growing wider with every push. 

You and Daniel talk about the farm mostly, how it was back when you were a kid and how much has changed since your grandmother passed away a few years ago. When he asks if you could ever see yourself moving here full time, you hesitate, “I’m not sure.” You shrug then, “I think I could manage what little livestock we have now but I’m not sure if I could be the best mum to Ellie if I have the farm to worry about.”

“Hmm,” he agrees quietly, encouraging you to go on.

“It’s a lot of work,” you explain. “I mean, if it wasn't just me maybe it’d be different but-”

“Can I-” Daniel stops himself but when you nod, because you know what he’s going to ask, he clears his throat and continues, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where’s Ellie’s dad?”

“Dunno.” You smile to let him know it’s ok, “We were together for six or seven months before I found out he was married, so I broke it off and told him I never wanted to see him again. Two months later I found out I was pregnant.”

“Does he-”

“He knows about Ellie, but he already has a wife and kids so-” You look at Ellie, “He signed away his rights when she was born and asked not to bother him anymore.”

“Wow,” Daniel shakes his head. “What an a-” He looks at Ellie and corrects himself just in time, “What a despicable human being.”

You shrug, “It’s fine. For me it’s better this way but-” you swallow hard, trying to get rid of the lump that has started to form in your throat, “I worry about the day Ellie’s going to ask about him, you know? Can you imagine? ‘Oh yeah, funny you should ask, kid, but your dad doesn’t want anything to do with you.’” You scoff, “I hate that he’s put me in that position but on the other hand, if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have her so-”

“If it’s any consolation,” Daniel says with a hesitant smile, “she’s a carbon copy of you, both the way she looks and her personality. People will always know she’s your kid.” 

“That’s very kind, thank you,” you tell him with a warm smile.

Ellie decides then she’s had enough of the swing and holds up her arms, “Out.”

You can’t help but laugh and nod at your daughter, “You heard her, Daniel. She wants out.” 

Daniel laughs and picks up Ellie, lifting her onto his shoulders before he turns to you, “Why don’t you show me your favourite place on the farm?”

“My favourite place,” you echo slowly, trying to choose between the little creek over in the Burned Oak paddock or- Looking at your daughter then, who is giggling with glee from being so high up, the choice is easy, “Ok. Let’s go.” You lead Daniel through the orchard to a field that at first glance doesn’t look like anything special but you know in a few months time will look completely different.

When you reach the gate you look at him from over your shoulder, “This is it.”

“Ok,” he draws out, probably not sure if you’re joking or not.

“You’ll have to come back in December,” you tell him, without thinking much of it, without fully realising you actually want him to come back, want to have him in your life for more than just the two weeks you’re promised now, “the entire place will be covered in poppies. It’s beautiful.” You poke Ellie’s side then, “It’s why her second name is Poppy.”

“Because you love the flowers so much?” Daniel guesses.

“That and because she was born on December third, when they are in full bloom.” You take your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and pull up your picture gallery, scrolling back to a picture of Ellie’s second birthday, where you took a few pictures of her surrounded by thousands of red poppies. You angle your phone to Daniel, “See?” 

“Oh wow.”

“Right?” You smile at Ellie, “A very pretty girl in the middle of some very pretty flowers.” 

Ellie yawns in response and when you look at the time on your phone you’re surprised to see it’s already close to five. You look at Daniel, “We should probably head back. Don’t want the wrath of Granddad unleashed on us because of dinner being late.”

Daniel laughs, “Yeah, nah, we could do without.”

***

It’s been less than a week since Daniel offered to help out on the farm, but already you’ve settled into an easy rhythm. You still do your chores around the house in the morning, make lunch, put Ellie down for her nap, and spend some time outside until your granddad calls, have a coffee break, head back outside again together with Ellie for an hour or so until it’s five o’clock and it’s time to make dinner. Or, well, warm up dinner. The meals Daniel brought you only require a few minutes in the microwave and save you so much time. 

Daniel usually shows up around five-thirty, entertaining Ellie long enough for you and Granddad to finish your dinner in relative peace before you take Ellie upstairs to get her ready for the night while Daniel and your Granddad drink a cuppa and gossip about the neighbours and whatever footie game was on that day. By now Granddad is a lot more independent around the house, but getting him ready both in the mornings and at night is still something you need to help him with. He seems a bit happier though and in the end that’s all that matters.  

Once Ellie is asleep, you and Daniel head outside, taking your Granddad’s ute out to Eagle’s nest to tend to the alpacas. More often than not, Homer jumps into the back of the truck once you set off, having taken a special liking to the alpacas ever since they arrived on the farm a few years ago. 

It’s where you find yourself today, an unusually warm Wednesday evening, with Homer dozing off next to the fence while you and Daniel clean out the shed so you can put in fresh hay later. The warmer weather means both you and Daniel have ditched your jackets, Daniel even going as far as taking his sweater off and working in only a t-shirt and so you keep finding yourself stealing glances at his arms and the way his tattoos stand out against his skin. 

Of course Daniel catches you looking, “Like what you see?” 

Is he flirting with you? If he is, it’s working because you feel the heat rise to your cheeks but try to shrug it off, “I’ve seen better.” 

“Hmm,” he teases and throws you a wink. “Let me know if it’s too distracting, babe. I’ll put my sweater back on.”

Babe? Oh God. He really is flirting with you. Fine. Two can play that game, you decide as you lean on your pitchfork, “Are you flexing right now?” You laugh when he seems confused and tease him some more, “Oh my God, you are. You are actually flexing your muscles.”

“Am not,” he shoots back, throwing his spade aside and taking on one of those ridiculous bodybuilder poses, one leg bent as he turns his torso towards you and pumps the muscles in his arms, “Now I am.” He goes through a whole array of poses and ends up with his back towards you, flexing his butt cheeks.

You hate the giggle that escapes you and so you try to play it cool and applaud his efforts instead, holding up an invisible sign, “Ten out of ten, Danny. You have impressed the judges.”

“Judges-” he echoes, “or judge?”

Biting your bottom lip you scrunch your nose, “It takes a lot more than that to impress this judge-” then, because why not, “-babe.” 

“Oooh,” Daniel draws out and puts his hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt by your comment, “way to kick me down, boss. Jeepers.”

“You wanna impress me?” You nod towards the last of the dirty hay, “Clean that out for me and then we’ll talk.” 

“Or,” Daniel starts, taking a step closer to you and making you look up at him, “I could take you out to dinner on Friday.”

You nod, your throat a little dry from how close he’s standing, “Or you could do that.” 

[mah-o-daryaa]

ATLA Modern AU: Avatar Edition

This is going to be a slightly different post. I don't think people ever consider the past Avatars in an AU set in a modern setting. Where do you think they would come from, if they had IRL nationalities?

For sake of simplicity, let's say the AU takes place in the United States, since most ATLA Modern AU fics I've read take place there, mostly in the San Francisco Bay Area. We could also use NYC as the setting, since Republic City is roughly based on 1920's Manhattan. I think this task would be much easier if we consider the real-life influences for each of the four nations. I'll be using this post as a reference for these influences.

For example, the Air Nomads are based off of Tibetan Buddhists with some Nepalese and Bhutanese influences, so it would be pretty obvious to make Aang Tibetan in a Modern AU. The same would also go for Yangchen, although I would personally prefer Bhutanese or Sikkimese Yangchen because the Western Air Temple (I'm not talking about the episode) is inspired by Bhutanese cliffside temples. Another option would be making both Aang and Yangchen part of a Tibetan diaspora living in India. Kyoshi, being half-Air Nomad, would also be of Tibetan ancestry.

The Fire Nation is inspired by a combination of Chinese and Japanese cultures, while Ember Island being inspired by Southeast Asian, mostly Thai and Cambodian culture. In a Modern AU, I can see Roku being Thai, while Wan and Szeto would most likely be Chinese, Szeto is from Hong Kong/Macau. I also have a particular desire for Korean Wan, for no other reason than the fact that his VA, Steven Yeun, is Korean. I also wouldn't mind Wan being part of a Chinese diaspora from Malaysia or Singapore.

The Earth Kingdom, being the largest and most diverse of the four nations, is inspired by many Chinese dynasties, various ethnic minority groups in China, and even other Asian cultures altogether. However, we'll be paying attention to one specific cultural influence in Kyoshi's appearance: Heian/Edo Japan. She wears samurai gear and kabuki makeup. How in the name of the Moon Spirit am I not supposed to make Kyoshi Japanese (half-Japanese, anyway)? Kyoshi Island, formerly known as Yokoya, is literally ATLA's equivalent to Japan in the real world. There are even Ainu influences in Kyoshi Island, what with the clothing of the people in Suki's village.

The last nation is the Water Tribes, and the last two Avatars left are Kuruk and Korra. Now, the Water Tribes actually have a more diverse range of cultural influences than what we might expect. According to both @atlaculture and @kkachi95, the SWT is based on Inuit, Yupik and other First Nation peoples, with some Polynesian influences as well. The NWT, in addition to these influences, is also influenced by Mongolian and Siberian peoples. Since Kuruk is from the NWT, in a Modern AU, he would probably be Siberian, mostly Yakut, but I wouldn't mind Mongolian Kuruk either. For Korra, since she is half-NWT and half-SWT, I think she would be mixed like Kyoshi, except Korra would probably be half-Inuit, half-Yupik. I also want Kuruk and Korra to be part of a Mongolian or Central Asian diaspora living in Russia (I'll admit, I'm only saying this because I really want them to speak Russian), but that probably wouldn't work due to the differences in their cultures in-universe.

I have an idea for a Modern AU involving the Avatars, as well as their backstories for said AU, but that's for another time. For now, I turn this question over to you guys, and I want to know your thoughts on my nationality headcanons.

[zvaigzdelasas]

Indonesia on Tuesday unveiled the National Task Force for Local Currency Transactions, a strategic initiative aimed at reducing the country's reliance on the US dollar in international transactions while promoting the use of its local currency.[...]

Last month, Bank Indonesia inked an agreement with Bank Negara Malaysia and the Bank of Thailand, aimed at promoting the use of local currencies in transactions among these countries.[...]

Indonesia has also entered into local currency transaction agreements with Japan and China and is actively pursuing similar arrangements with Singapore and South Korea.

5 Sep 23

[flyingcakeee]

LSx2 thingy (lmfao kinda a little angst still my specialty 🙌)

Small little CW for mentions/implications of sex 😔

Florida palms, Quebec maples. Miami hurricanes, Montreal blizzards. The same, yet all so different in the end. Palms aren't trees like maples, blizzards aren't as destructive as hurricanes. They can hope that they are as much as they can be and that it's good enough, but they couldn't ever be wanted as oaks or pinewood and they'll never be as pretty as a sunset on a nice warm day or a sunrise with someone you love next to you. They can try, but they'll never succeed, they have other uses. Palms are for shade and aesthetic, they pretend to be trees. Hurricanes are pure destruction when they're strong enough, but most of the time their tears flood the ground for a while. Maples can look lovely as furniture but they're better for their sap and syrup. Blizzards can ruin people's infrastructure like water pipes or heaters and drop a bit of snow and wind with it, but it all goes away after some time, just to be forgotten about.

Logan Sargeant, Lance Stroll. The first American since Alexander Rossi, the first American point-scorer since Mario Andretti, the one who caused his team more damage than other teams with both drivers combined. The only Canadian left since Nicholas Latifi took his leave, the second youngest podium sitter, point scorer, and driver as well as the youngest front row sitter when he achieved all those feats, yet he's only known for his negatives like his father; something that shouldn't be a negative.

One has never had success, one has had a handful of successes. Both are categorized as failures who should move to a different racing series.

Maybe Logan should've, he had success as a reserve driver in endurance racing. Maybe Lance should've, he did the Rolex 24 twice and did quite well. Maybe Logan will forever be remembered for Qatar, Australia, and Japan. Maybe Lance will always be remembered for Tuscany, Singapore, and China. Maybe they won't remember Logan’s Silverstone P11 or Austin P10 or Las Vegas qualifying and practice results. Maybe they won't remember Lance’s Baku, Italy, or Sakhir podium or Turkey pole position or São Paulo qualifying where he got P3.

Maybe they weren't worth remembering, maybe the bad truly always will overshadow the good. Maybe, in the future, they'll do better. Maybe they'll share a podium or they'll be teammates or they'll stop being scapegoats. Lance was used to it, however, Logan was not. Lance knew how to go about the media and his radio, he knew what he was doing now. Logan did not know how he wanted to respond, sticking heavy to PR.

Maybe Lance will help Logan or maybe Lance will be too cautious about making friends so he isn't betrayed or hurt again. Maybe Logan will ask for advice from Lance or maybe he'll be too shy to step out of his comfort zone and talk to anyone but those he knows. They follow each other on social media that they don't use, that's as much assurance they give to each other. Maybe that's why instead of talking, they show each other the rest of their attention in bed, Lance delicately holding Logan as if the man was porcelain and was to break any second, Logan holding onto Lance as if he were a stranger who'd leave as fast as he could.

To Lance, Logan’s palms and hurricanes were falsely portrayed. The palms provide shade and some are strong enough to resist even cannon fire. The hurricanes don't mean to be angry or hurtful, they are just doing as they were taught by Mother Nature, carefully carrying out her tasks as much as they understood, even if it's too much, they don't understand what they're doing wrong.

To Logan, Lance’s maples and blizzards are beautiful and overlooked. The maples have a wonderful colored bark and are stronger than the more common oak; they're more than just the sugary delicacy that everyone knows about, they're more. The blizzards just want to bring snow, but they caught the wind on their path and forgot to put him back down; blizzards are just trying to make it beautiful for the children and the photographers, they didn't mean to bring the wind.

To each other, they are given more negativity than they can handle, seeking refuge in each other’s arms and tangling themselves against the other’s naked body. They savor each other, showing the other man that they see them, they see who they truly are. To each other, they are just enough yet they could always be more, that's why they seek each other out so often.

To everyone else, they are just losers who can't cope correctly and it causes them to be blind to the other’s problems. To everyone else, they are destructive and hurtful, unable to love or care about themselves and anyone who isn't a storm with them.

They're a beautiful snowstorm mixed with lightning which illuminates the snow, creating beautiful visuals for only their eyes only. They're a palm tree providing coconuts and a maple tree providing maple syrup for all the different types of delicacies, even combining themselves at times. A bitter yet delicious mix, a beautiful yet judged pair. The wind may blow harshly, but it'll always calm down after time.

[teresalace]

I won't cry for you, Yandere Tyler Galpin x Female Reader Part 2

Yandere Tyler Galpin x Female Reader Part 2, "I won't cry for you"

Part one: here (PART 1)

• Words: 2358

•Triggers/Warnings: none

•Show: Wednesday (2022) Netflix

💖Author's Note😌: Happy almost Chinese new year everyone! Enjoy! And please remember 😅this story is more of what I imagine the show would be like in season2 but I haven't watched S1! 💖Much love! My Kofi is in my pinned post if you'd like to support me :-D Singapore based writer wo!

As promised, tagging y'all! @taylorsreputationsversion​ and @queen-wolf7577

————

Summary: After successfully relocating the Hyde, Your mother's pet, Laurel Gates (Professor Thornhill), in a nearby town, you had almost not much else to do except to help see to that Tyler Galpin adjusts to his new life and identity. Yet as time goes by, you realized you had a terrifying fondness for his company but that's just because you see him as a wounded stray animal you've adopted. Surely you could overcome this attachment. Maybe. Like mother like daughter. . .

_____

The rest of the first week living with Tyler felt distant and polite, you liked it that way, being able to keep a close eye on his few unusual movements (other than staying cooped up, reading books and whatnot in his assigned room) and overall health in the house.

You'd conclude that he's overall healthy from the three meals he'd eat daily, though mentally you can't say for certain.

There was no need for conversations whenever you crossed paths with him when there wasn't anything to talk about, so in a way you were technically on a short holiday. He was barely an annoyance, always keeping to himself, no complaints whatsoever, had respectable minimal eye-contact with you whenever there's a brief moment of passing between you and him. . .

How nice, like he instinctively knew his place to be submissive. One less problem to deal with.

Until one early morning in the living room, at 7am of your usual waking time, you were surprised to see breakfast for two laid out on the coffee table. Two cups of coffee accompanying their own full plates of steaming hot pancakes– admittedly it was a strange, welcoming sight.

"I- uh- wanted to surprise you."

You whipped around at the sudden voice and observed Tyler standing behind you awkwardly, wearing layers of clothes with big pockets that hid his dangling arms.

So, Galpin made the first move.

You shot a swift glance between him and the breakfast before easing a small smile out of your stiff lips. "consider me surprised, Galpin."

Huh, he usually wouldn't come out of his room at this time. . . (Which was why you chose this time to be busy in doing your other tasks and grocery shopping.) It got you thinking, suspecting him of wanting to gain something from you. Let's hear it first before throwing a dog a bone.

"I'm glad you're awake, uh the pancakes won't get soggy then." He says, tone genuinely relieved. Almost sounding like he was actually glad he didn't have to go up to your room to get you for breakfast. . . Or he was one incredible actor.

Either way, you weren't mad. It was more than interesting living with a former normie. You were glad in a way that he had settled down nicely but it did seem somewhat suspicious. He settled down way too fast- but you'd think you would be desperate to adapt if you were in his shoes and even overwhelmingly grateful to be given assistance.

"After you, Galpin." You gestured towards the food on the coffee table, a low grumbling in your empty stomach urging you to eat already. He quickly protested, "oh n-no, you go first. . ."

You raised an eyebrow, it only took a few more seconds of staring for him to zip up and hesitantly nodding in defeat. He went to take a seat at the coffee table and you followed suit, sitting across from him.

The steam of the rich creamy coffee hit your nostrils the moment you sat down and took a deep breath in. And even though there was barely any movement from infront of you, you carefully sipped the hot coffee. . . Just one drop. Wow.

"This is really good," you admitted outloud, looking into your mocha-coloured coffee, surprising yourself in the process. "I don't think I've had coffee taste this good in years."

A small whoosh of relief released from across you but when you flicked your gaze up, Tyler had already started grabbing his cutlery and wore a bigger smile while cutting through his pancakes. "Glad I have something to bring to the table. I guess working in café wasn't so bad," he finished his sentence by stuffing himself a large bite and chewing with intense urgency.

His attention zeroed in on his food once he saw you begining to eat yours.

Gosh, he must've been starving waiting for you to get out of your room. Not that you felt guilty but for a moment as you stared at him engoring himself with pancakes. . . Your heart sunk a little and pitied him. For only a moment, of course. . .

He made breakfast for you because he felt indebted to you. Simple enough for you to understand and not question.

No wonder he seemed the tiniest, slightest bit on edge around you the past few days and from the corner of your eyes- you'd occasionally catch him watching you subtly while you ate. Maybe he was worried of what you'd say to him.

Like a worried tenant trying to please their unpredictable landlord from kicking them out.

In the dead quiet other than steel clinking and the muffled beeping of cars outside, he must've sensed your blatant stare on him as he shifted in his seat and tried to smile casually. "I forgot to say this but good morning," he greeted, evergreen eyes boring into yours.

You slowly nodded, copying his friendly smile to a tee, "morning."

That was already a huge effort you never expected yourself to make, especially willing without any underlying intention. It's only been a few days since you've adopted– gave a place for him to stay. . . You couldn't possibly be growing an attachment to him.

It can't be possible, you reassured yourself mentally while finishing off the rest of the fluffy pancakes.

You were leaving soon in a week or two anyways, these interactions are temporary and won't even be remembered in a couple of months for you. Good.

"Galpin," you called when he was about to take away your empty place along with his, "thank you. Your pancakes were delicious, so was the coffee. You didn't have to do this."

He shrugged his back at you, putting down the empty dishes in the sink before he turnt on the faucet.

"I can't just sit back and not do anything. You've already done alot for me so. . . " He washed the cups through the running water. "I thought making breakfast for you would help you relax," Tyler said nonchalantly as he washed the rest of the dishes.

Huh, did you seem stressed to him?

A slow smile spread on your face when you looked around the tidy living room, arms crossed. "How nice, thank you, Galpin."

"I also took out the trash. Gotta pull my weight here, right." He chuckled lightly, trying to sound humorous while drying his hands with a hand towel by the kitchen counter.

As much as he's right, you initially prefered being alone in the mornings but without your dear plants near– Tyler soon became a good substitute for some company. . . You really need to take another long hot shower before you begin thinking again.

He stood idle across from you, tucking his hands in an oversized jacket your family member used to wear. (No doubt he found from the closet in his room) "So I guess this is uh, see you later?"

"Sure, see you. Galpin," you nodded, watching him back away and retreating up the stairs quietly with a short glance thrown behind his shoulder at you before disappearing.

Only when the clicking of his door closing echoed through the house were you finally able to fully relax and do the rest of your morning routine. . . .

After much housework and managing some of your mother's leftover papers (on subjects unknown to you), you recalled not having checked if the meat had gone bad, so you did.

Slowly opening the freezer of the fridge did not prepare you enough for the shocking sight of a cold white empty space. How did a dozen of plastic packaged red meat that you just recently ordered a few days ago, become completely gone in no time.

Obvious answer: Tyler Galpin.

You slowly closed the freezer and went to check the trash bin in the kitchen, only to see an empty bin. . . Ah right, Tyler did say he threw the trash away earlier.

The pots and pans are crisp and clean, but since you weren't always at this second house with Tyler– there were many time gaps where he could've cooked or fried the meat. Assuming he cooked it at all.

You rubbed your feet against the floor, sensing no grease nor oil on the smoothe clean surface. He must've found the mop somewhere and cleaned after his cooking. . .

What funny timing. Except that you don't remember reading anything about Hydes craving meat, but could you have misread? Impossible.

You needed some time to think about Tyler's abnormal cravings (and recalling the bloodied state he was in when you discovered him in the woods) he most likely is going through some kind of withdrawal.

Then again, you aren't a monster expert so you need to call someone who is.

So you reached behind you for your phone, secretly hidden in your back pocket but froze in place. Wait what were you thinking, (Name), this is so unnecessary. You've helped him enough, whatever else he goes through he should deal with it. Not you.

Your hand dropped from your back as you continued going about your day in endless amounts of work, peacefully. Or so you convinced yourself.

And for hours long you didn't see Tyler until he came down the stairs suddenly, all jittery and nervous smiles when noticing your stare on him from the couch.

"Afternoon, Galpin." You greeted before looking back down to your work laptop.

"Ye-yeah, good afternoon," he softly said, watching you for a couple of seconds before taking any action.

Him walking towards you in a casual saunter like he had something important to say, opening his mouth before closing it. You glanced up and blinked at him questioningly.

"Um- If it's at all possible. . . Could I talk to my dad? Or just send a letter, something to let him know I'm alive. . ." He asked pleading, heavy toned.

Staring intensely into yours was his forest green eyes shrouded by the shadows of his front curly hair. Eyes full of uncertainty and glimmering hope yet also prepared for the least favourable answer.

So you pulled the laptop closed while maintaining steely eye-contact and asked. "Galpin, Isn't it dangerous to be contacting your father during this time?"

By this time, you meant when the whole town's police force could potentially be on the hunt for him, an escaped murderer.

His eyes shone brighter after hearing you not say no. Tyler then confidently stood firmer, like an opportunist he took what he could get.

"Nothing's gonna happen if we're already out of Jericho," he said it matter-of-factly with a dead serious expression, "the cops don't search anyplace far. . ." Looks like his father must've told him something for his confident to skyrocket in this area.

"I'll see what I can do." You rose from your comfortable seat, "I won't guarantee anything except your safety, remember that, Galpin."

You smoothly maneuvered around a wide-eyed standing Tyler as he tried to speak as you headed up the stairs. Towards your bedroom.

Because somewhere deep inside your wardrobe was a cardboard box full of throwaway phones incase of emergencies. And this wasn't an emergency but a small favour that could lead to a potential disaster if one was careless.

Shaking these useless thoughts out of your head, you took one of the phones and hid the box again.

After going back down to the living room where Tyler was waiting for you, sitting on the couch this time- on the place where you last sat, you just stood Infront of him.

"Your hand, please."

Curious, he held his hand up to you. Only for you to put a black burner phone in it, his thumb accidentally brushing along the side of your hand as you do.

"Smash it or step on it, anything. Do what is necessary to destroy it after your call. Absolutely make sure you get rid of it, your future depends on it." You immediately returned your hand to your side, feeling a small tingle spreading- comfortably.

Too comfortably for your liking.

"Thanks, seriously. I- This means a lot to me," he stuttered, smiling widely, gratefully then stared at the burner phone in his hand in contemplation.

In that smile you almost lost yourself but snapped out of it quickly, he just has a nice smile, that's all.

For a split second it reminded you of your mother's many practiced smiles, generously wide with all her pearly white teeth on display to show how harmless she is. She taught you better than to trust smiley people.

Tyler stood up from the couch and peered into your eyes, breaking your train of thought completely. "I'll see you later then?" He asked softly, the burner phone gripped tightly in his palm.

"Maybe, I'm not sure of my schedule. Another time, Galpin." You shrugged then turned to leave before he could call you.

Now that you think about it, today's been a day full of interactions between Tyler and you. You weren't sure what to feel about it.

So off you went to your room, your mind battling itself the whole way up the stairs. . . As you laid on your bed, your brain alarmed you of what would happen if Tyler were to mess up any one thing.

A clue that'd give away his location. Any word mentioning you, a technical accomplice.

You didn't trust him enough to be helping him at all.

You'd be in big trouble. Worse trouble if the police got involved. . . Mother would find out about the. . . Escaped prisoner? Guest? Visitor? It didn't really matter what to call him except that his existence right now is a secret.

One of your few secrets that had a ticking bomb.

You grabbed your phone from underneath your pillow and dialled a number you hadn't expect yourself to call in months. . . And for the person to answer instantly with a gruffy laugh.

"Well well well, if it isn't the sweet consequence of my actions."

A somber smile lifted on your face at the older voice against your ear. Looks like Tyler won't be the only person calling his father today.

"I need some help."

[tonberry-yoda]

Headcanons of a romantic brush between kakyoin and y/n who happens to be jotaro's cousin one year younger and clearly also joseph's granddaughter? I would like to know the reaction of all the crusaders to this situation, I feel that Polareff would be the most annoying, don't you think? XDD

omg this idea is so funny!! i hope i did well at writing it! it's kinda short and just goofy fanfic, so i hope you enjoy anon!!! <3

Secret - Noriaki Kakyoin

Pairing - Kakyoin x f!reader

Warnings - none!

Word Count - 540

Notes - thanks for the request and sorry this took so long anon, ive been trying to get through a lot of requests lmaooooo. hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy!!! <333

You smiled and ran up to Kakyoin, pressing a kiss on his cheek. You and Kakyoin had been secretly dating since you landed in Singapore and to hide it, you have both woken up early to take a walk around the hotel before everyone else gets up.

You had to admit it felt silly to be hiding something like this, but also a little fun. Plus, if your cousin, Jotaro, found out, he would be on your ass about staying on task and not worrying about stupid stuff like relationships. And your grandpa, Joseph, found out, you would never be able to have a moment alone with Kakyoin.

You didn't want to seem off task or like you didn't care about the actual mission at hand, so you and Kakyoin just spent your time together early in the morning and late at night before doing actual work throughout the day.

“Did you sleep well last night?” You asked Kakyoin, watching the warm sun rise.

“I did,” he smiled and placed a small kiss on your cheek. “How about you?”

“Pretty good. There was a loud train outside though, but other than that, it was pretty nice.”

“Well, at least you got some sleep.” Kakyoin sat down on a bench, patting the open spot next to him for you to sit down.

You gladly sat down and rested in his arms watching the sun on the ocean. Waking up now was actually a nice thing, not only because you got to see Kakyoin and spend some alone time with him, but you also got to see the sun rise in tons of different countries, which a lot of people can't say they’ve seen.

You snuggled into Kakyoin’s arms, feeling yourself drift off to sleep again, when you heard a very familiar laugh.

“Don't get me laughing like that, Polnareff, gonna make my knees go out!” Joseph wiped a tear from laughing so hard and you panicked. There wasn't enough time to get out of Kakyoin’s arms, and even before you thought of that, Jotaro made eye contact with you, following right behind his grandfather.

Your eyes went wide and you turned to Kakyoin, trying to figure out a cover up. But everyone saw you at this point and knew what you were up to. Joseph ran over and said, “How long have you two been snuggling?!?!”

You shrugged and went to say something when Jotaro grabbed the tip of his hat and shook his head with his iconic “yare yare daze”.

Kakyoin just giggled and made the situation worse and your face more red by placing a huge kiss on your cheek.

Polnareff ran up with tears nearly in his eyes. “Oh my goodness!! You two are so cute together!!!” He sniffled back some tears and grabbed Kakyoin’s hands. “You better treat her well, alright? You better take her on the most lovely dates! I know a great place in France.”

Everyone began bombarding the two of you and you couldn't help but giggle and apologize for hiding this from everyone.

Jotaro wasn't too amused though and just told everyone to pack their bags and go while Polnareff was crying in Avdol’s arms about how cute the two of you were.

~~~~~

jjba masterlist (2) --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda