#looking pristine and professional and presentable the both of them

[bancaishi]

commission for @oliveroctavius

commission info

[yesihaveaobsession]

alastor x nurse!female reader

Summary: The reader (you) are a ER nurse in the depths of Hell and the Radio Demon seems to be quite fond of you.

A/N- So y'all who gave me some ideas/ requests a few weeks back I haven't forgotten about you! So this request was from @artisticbishoujorin and instead of doing the whole human solider bit I decided to keep it in hell because I thought it was cuter! I hope that is okay and I hope y'all like this!! :))))

Like most things in Hell, it was quietly strange. You had just finished tending to a particularly loud sinner’s broken arm. Now, you were filling out a patient chart at the nurse’s station when the sliding doors opened.

You didn’t look up at first—you figured it was another demon coming in to complain about a scratch or something. But then came the static. A very unfamiliar kind of static.

It was radio static. That unnatural buzz that slithered into the corners of your mind and set your nerves on edge.

You looked up—and nearly dropped your clipboard.

The Radio Demon stood there.

Alastor.

The smile that carved horror straight from the airwaves himself. Crimson eyes glowing, his microphone in hand. That ever-present toothy grin stretched just a little too wide to be comforting.

Of course. How did you not notice it before?

You froze, afraid to move. Your instincts screamed at you to keep your head down. Keep filling out the chart. You’d heard the stories—everyone had. Alastor wasn’t the kind of demon you wanted in your clinic unless you had a death wish.

And yet, he was just standing there, eyes scanning the room like he was browsing a menu. Until finally...

They landed on you.

And oh, you felt it.

“You must be the nurse I’ve heard about,” he said, his radio-tinged voice both dangerously charming and deeply unsettling.

You tried to speak, but it came out as a whisper. “Heard about?”

“Oh yes!” He twirled his microphone and leaned on it like a cane. “I’ve seen you on my strolls through this part of town. Always so kind to your patients. And so very neat! Why, it’s a breath of fresh sulfur to see such professionalism.”

He chuckled at his own joke.

You honestly had no idea what to do. Laugh? Run? You figured one wrong move and you'd be done for. So, you forced a smile.

“Can I… help you with something?”

He tilted his head. “Not today, dear. Just curious. But I’ll be back.”

And he was.

Over the next few weeks, he came back again and again. Sometimes with real injuries—and only asking for you. Nobody dared to question it, so they always led him straight to you.

Despite the wounds he showed up with, you never asked how a demon like him even got hurt. Sometimes it was just a scratch. Other times, he brought "friends" who needed help. And once, he just came in to “ask about stitches” for a ripped waistcoat.

You never fully stopped being nervous around him.

But… over time, something strange started to happen.

He never once made you feel unsafe. As crazy as that sounds.

Sure, he was… odd. Too observant. Watching you with those crimson eyes as you cleaned a wound or bandaged someone up. But he never crossed a line. He listened when you spoke.

Once, while you were patching up a wounded imp with blood smeared across your cheek, he offered you a pristine white handkerchief embroidered with his initials.

“Can’t have you tarnishing that pretty face,” he said with a grin.

Was he flirting with you? No… impossible, right? Still, your cheeks burned for the rest of the day.

Eventually, you two started talking more—about everything and nothing. You told him how you ended up a nurse in Hell. How you liked helping people, even if most didn’t deserve it.

And he told you… well, vague, unsettling stories. But the way he told them was so dramatic, you couldn’t help but laugh.

You two grew close.

One day, after patching up a hellhound’s paw, you looked up and caught him watching you with a softness in his eyes.

A rare softness.

It startled you more than his grin ever had.

“What?” you asked, wiping your hands on a rag.

He simply smiled. “It’s just curious,” he mused, “how someone so bright ended up in such a dark place.”

You looked down and kept working. You didn’t know what to say.

“And yet you stay kind. Unafraid,” he added, tapping his cane once. “I find that… endearing.”

His gaze followed your movements.

You blinked and smiled a little. “Unafraid? I was terrified of you when you first walked in.”

He threw his head back with a laugh, a hand on his chest. “Good! Means I was doing something right.”

You smirked, just a little. “You still scare me sometimes.”

“Excellent,” he said, still grinning—because when was he not?

“But I do hope you’ll let me keep visiting.”

You hesitated… then nodded.

“Alright. But next time, bring actual injuries. Or at least a good story.”

He winked as he turned to leave. “Darling, with you? I’ll bring both.”

And with that, you heard him humming as he walked away.

You just smiled, rolled your eyes, and shook your head.

Not that you minded.

[wyniepooh]

Miss

coriolanus misses his family and the many capitol luxuries, but the person he misses the most, is right here in the districts.

peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district reader. Forbidden love, sneaking around, tension. Mentions of guns! Corio has to pretend nothing is going on between him n the reader, tries to do a professional pat down on reader, but obvi does a little more bc he’s kinda obsessed.

"excuse me, miss."

your shared laughter with a local salesman dissipated as quickly as how it had originally started. the air around you seemed to chill, although the sun was still as present as ever, providing a warmth your thin sweater couldn't compare with.

you turned around, breath hitching when you focused on the familiar blue eyes you were just staring into a couple nights ago. His pristine grey uniform contrasted with the wrinkled, blue outfit you usually saw him in, and you could laugh at how serious he looked. your lips began to curve, and your feet were moving before he could say another word.

"cori-"

"we're here for our regular checkup. making sure you don't have any illegal substances or dangerous objects on hand."

you paused in your steps, breathing out a gentle 'oh’ while the brightness on your face dimmed. coriolanus turned to another peacekeeper behind him, giving him a nod to approach the old man behind you. while he began lazily patting down the man, coriolanus placed a light hand on your forearm.

"follow me," he whispered.

You trailed behind him, observing the firm grip he had on his gun, and the confident strides he had with his black boots and solid helmet. It was hard to believe that this was a man you had shared endless laughs with, a man you've felt breathlessly on your lips, your chest, and on your neck.

He halted when he reached a curved wall a few feet away from his comrade, giving him one last look before breathing a sigh of relief. He turned towards you, letting the gun strap fall from his shoulders and resting the bottom on the ground.

"Turn around and face the wall."

Your brows furrowed and your mouth fell agape.

You had thought he was taking you somewhere private, somewhere you could both be alone and finish your conversation from last night. But hearing his stern words echo, it was clear that that was not in his plans.

Seeing your shocked expression, he silently tilted his chin back towards a group of more serious-looking peacekeepers standing guard behind him, guns aimed and eyes searching for sight of anything— a trick, a mishap, an accident.

Anything that would give them an opportunity to warm up their weapons.

You sighed, gently rolling your eyes as you turned away from coriolanus, stepping closer to the gray, concrete wall. You heard his footsteps approaching behind you, slow and a little hesitant.

"Hands on the wall," he muttered.

You almost jumped when you heard his voice, which was surprisingly close to your ear and oh-so-reminiscent. You tilted your head with annoyance, but complied, resting both of your palms on the cold, gritty surface above your head.

You felt his hands on your shoulders first. They did a quick, professional sweep over both your arms and hands before traveling down your back. He paused at your waist, both hands cupping the curvature, his thumb rubbing circles at the tender flesh of your hip.

"I miss you," he breathed.

So quietly, so faintly that you would've missed it had you not been completely still.

You wanted to reach back, to see his face and to relax your hand on his. But you could feel too many pairs of eyes on you to do what you truly wanted.

"I miss you too,” you responded in the same hushed tone.

coriolanus began to crouch down, his warm breath hitting your thigh when he did so. Shivers spread from your shoulders to your toes, your bottom lips slipping between your teeth as your nails dug into the wall.

He dragged his hands down both of your legs, slower than what was acceptable, hands lingering on your ankle for longer than needed. time didn’t exist in the moment. you closed your eyes and relished in the comfort of his warm hand, imagining that you were both back on the dance floor, his arm around your waist, your arms around his neck.

A single finger dragged up the side of your body as he finally stood up. You were both quiet for a second. Suddenly, he exhaled sharply, patting the small of your waist to signal for you to turn.

As you did, you were almost afraid to look into his eyes. Afraid that once you did, you wouldn't be able to look away. but when your eyes finally did connect, he looked the same as he did last night. He was the coriolanus from last night. he opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by a sudden smack on the back.

"all done, private snow?"

coriolanus turned and saluted, gloved hand hitting the hard material of his helmet. "yes, sir."

The higher up stood in silence while giving you a quick scan, mouth twisted like he had just eaten something sour. After a suffocating minute, he finally spoke again. "Alright. Gather the others and return to your quarters for further instructions."

coriolanus saluted him again, eyes finding yours again only when the commander had long disappeared beyond your vision.

but once he did, his previous gaze returned. Blue eyes glossy, lips parted and hands clenching the strap of his gun so tightly his knuckles turned white. He swerved his head cautiously towards the peacekeepers, you joining him in observation.

He looked back with only one intention in mind.

He captured your breath in an instant, both of his hands cupping the side of your face while his thumb grazing the bottom of your chin. His helmet sunk painfully into your forehead, but that only motivated you to push your lips further into his. You placed a hand on his chest, fingers clenching and grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

The moment was over before it had really even started.

He pulled back abruptly, eyes still closed and mouth still hungry. You gently opened your eyes, squinting as you adjusted to the bright sunlight. Coriolanus' lips were swollen and wet, red from the sudden and brutal force and shiny from the remnants of you. His chest heaved up and down. He slowly backed away.

"See you next time, miss,” he sputtered, breath still wavering. He looked away. With a twirl and a cloud of sand, he had marched away.

"Next time," you muttered to his shadow.

You sighed, stepping away from the corner and out into the open market once more. You took a few steps, and then your strides faltered.

With furrowed brows, you reached down to your shoe. A combination of a gasp and a chuckle escaped your mouth when you pulled out a square of neatly folded paper from the back of your heel.

Miss you. Need you. Midnight, tonight. Meet me at our spot.

-

A/n: im a sucker for forbidden love anything lolz!!

[plutoswritingplanet]

Enabler (Mark Hoffman x Female!Reader)

a/n: y'all missed me? i binged the entirety of the saw franchise while sick and... yeah.. f the police right?

Warnings: Non-Con (like, fr, be warned, be safe), a lazy ass idea for a Jigsaw trap, Workplace Crush heehee, Smut, Strahm's also here

Summary: You've survived a test, made for you by Jigsaw. As your two coworkers visit you in the hospital, Hoffman thinks back to that faithful night of your kidnapping. Cross-Posted on AO3.

Live or die, detective. Make your choice.

The mechanically distorted voice follows you through your journey to regaining consciousness. It's words flicker in and out of existence, as your eyelids flutter against the white light of the hospital room. Your eyes water and you groan, as the mixture of the night's events comes back to you in a wave of nausea and dull pain engulfing your entire body. Your fingers scratch lightly at the crispy white duvet, and you feel every single tendon in your hand flex, earning another groan from you. 

There's a steady sound of beeping present in the room. It makes your brows furrow slightly. It must've been really bad, if they had you hooked up to a heart monitor. You don't really remember just how bad it was, your mind flickers to the moment you slid your hand into the metal box and then... Pain, so much pain, and the smell of blood that follows you like a phantom even in the pristine light of the hospital room.

- Thank God you're awake. - a voice brings you back from beneath the surface, a familiar one, laced with inexplicable worry. 

You force your eyes to open all the way. Bright light attacks your pupils and you can't bring your arm up to shield yourself, even if you tried. Pain, bordering on tearing, floods your system whenever you try to force your upper limbs to work. Tears form beneath your eyelids and you blink forcefully to distribute moisture across your eyeballs. 

There are two men in your room, and even their blurred sillhouettes are enough to let a wave of relief wash over you. 

 One standing by the foot of your bed, towering over the entire space, even with the slight hunch in his back. The other one sits by your side, hands fiddling with the edge of a green blanket the hospital staff must've left for you. Even with the grogginess of sleep still hanging onto you, you immediately notice the sudden lack of his wedding ring, which he usually kept on. Perhaps he's just washed his hands. On instinct, your head rolls over towards the sitting man, and your lips pull back into a tired smile of recognition. 

- Hello ladies... - your voice doesn't sound like a voice at all.

It's hoarse, barely recognizable, sounding more like a huff of wind going through rusty machinery. Still, Special Agent Peter Strahm lets out a puff of air, tension sliding off of his shoulders as if a tangible weight has been lifted from them. Your eyes shift downwards, towards his hands, and you watch as his fingers twitch, so close to grabbing yours, yet deciding against it at the last minute. 

God bless professionalism, you think bitterly, before straightening your head on the pillow and looking towards the other man.

Detective Mark Hoffman watches you intensly from the foot of your bed, his expression unreadable, as he takes in the sight of you. Face almost washed out of any color, sunken cheeks and eyes, lips so close to blue it's almost making him pity you. Almost. 

Then, there are the bandages. Starting at both of your palms, running up and up, all the way towards your elbows, where your skin peaks at him from under the hospital gown. They've managed to stop most of the bleeding, but he can see clear as day, specs of drying blood showing through the cloth, creating a contrast that's strangely hypnotizing. He doesn't want to imagine how your arms look underneath. Doesn't need to, he has seen those wounds first hand. Both after you were rescued... And before that. 

- How long have I been out? - you ask after a moment of silence, your voice regaining a bit of your usual color. 

Mark opens his mouth, but it's Strahm who answers you first. The Detective bites down on a scowl. He was never too interested in literary heights, but even he must admit there is something poetic about the both of them crowding around your bed, while you lay there, stricken by tragedy. It makes him feel ridiculous. You make him feel ridiculous. 

- Two days - Strahm supplies, his eyes flickering around your face, the bed, the medical apparatus - You've been unconscious most of the time, lost a whole lot of blood. 

To that, you scoff, or laugh, neither of them are sure. Of course you've lost a lot of blood. That was the point of the game, wasn't it? To bleed yourself dry. And supposedly some important life lesson was also hidden in there, but after five minutes of pissing blood from your veins into a beaker, you really must've lost it in translation. 

- Fuck... - you sigh, slowly trying to move your muscles under the covers.

You try to lift your hand towards the bedside table, where a water bottle with a straw is waiting for you, but your hand starts to shake so badly, you have to give up. Oh, you hated this. This feeling of helplessness. That's when Hoffman springs to action, closing the distance between himself and the other side of your bed. He snatches the bottle from the table like a man on a mission, and places the straw right at your lips. 

- Thanks - you mutter, eyes connecting with his for a split second, before focusing all your efforts on drinking. 

You don't remember water tasting this good, and as you swallow, you let yourself hum with delight. After a while, the bottle is finished, and Mark dutifully places it back on the table, debating whether to shuffle back to his original place, or to somehow stay here, looming over you as there was no chair for him to sit in. You decide for him, patting the side of your bed and attempting to shift your legs a little, to make more room. He takes the hint and plops himself right next to your foot, his hand coming up to grab at your calf reassuringly. Immediately after that, all reservations seem to leave Strahm, as his hand slides over yours in a warm embrace.

If you weren't so goddamn tired, you would've laughed. Two manly men, fighting like a bunch of petty schoolgirls. Your chest swells with something dangerously close to affection. Quick, someone call for the doctors to bring back professionalism into the room. 

- Do you remember anything from that night? - Hoffman asks with slight tension in his voice.

- Is this really the best time to be asking this? They've barely woken up - Strahm's always close to outrage when Hoffman's around, and you silence him with a slight shake of your head.

- It's fine, I can talk - you mutter, brain already working overtime, as you think hard on every single detail from your recent kidnapping.

- I called you.

Your eyes focus on Hoffman, and you can see his jaw shift under his skin as he swallows. His lips twitch into a small smile, but you can see worry settling heavily over his brows, as he looks over the bandages on your arm, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin of your calf through the blanket. 

- That you did. - and at the time, it almost startled him to death.

***

The puff of smoke you let out flows into the night air of the city, as you lean your head against the cool wall of the restaurant. You're dressed a bit too elegantly, too much like a costume of a successful woman, with skinny heels and too big of a coat. 

Hoffman watches with unreserved fascination the way neon lights illuminate the column of your throat. Hidden in the shadows of his car, finally he can watch you without the confines of his professional reputation restraining him. Only if for a fleeting moment, before he has to put on the mask and fulfill his other duty.

 Still, his eyes glide greedily over your body, dolled up specially for this fancy dinner with your highschool "friends". You've been buzzing around the station for almost a week now, complaining about this particular meeting, and every time you've mentioned it, Hoffman was making plans. All he had to do, was wait until you were ready to leave. He was certain, you would like a long, calming walk after this whole spectacle. You always did those, whenever a particularly hard hitting case appeared. 

Another puff of smoke, and you reach towards the pocket of your coat, fishing out your phone and flicking it on. His eyebrows raise in curiosity, as he watches you dial a number and place the device between your shoulder and your ear. Your hand reaches down to loosen the strap on your heel, and Hoffman is so transfixed by your display of calculated clumsiness, he almost flies from his seat, when his phone starts to ring in his pocket. 

Your number is displayed proudly next to your name, and he blinks a few times, before answering.

- Hoffman speaking.

- It's me - your words are slightly slurred, and from his hiding spot he can see the smile forming on your painted lips. 

- Did something happen? Why are you calling me? - he asks, trying to sound as bored and tired as he possibly can, while fighting off the sudden jolt of adrenaline surging through his body. 

He sees you straighten out against the wall, finally giving up on the strap of your heel. Then he hears the shuffling. And laughter, a short chuckle that sends something swirling in his stomach. 

- I'm fine, I'm fine... I just... - you hesitate, hand coming up to tug at the roots of your hair, before taking a long drag from your cigarette, irresponsible, Hoffman thinks - I just wanted to hear a voice of someone who's not a complete asshole. 

His laugh comes out in a huff, and it seems contagious enough to make you chuckle as well. If only you knew on how many layers you were in the wrong. Perhaps you'll find out someday, most likely not. Not after tonight. 

Still, the sheer notion of you calling him of all people. Calling him instead of your favorite Special Agent even. There's a feeling dangerously close to pride climbing up Hoffman's chest, and he has to swallow it down, before he does something stupid. Which, in this case would be not doing anything. He has to remind himself, why this whole situation is taking place, and all feelings of flattery turn to ash in his mouth. His eyebrows furrow. 

- I take it the dinner isn't going well.

- Oh it's fucking terrible - you shake your head in frustration - I don't really care about what they say, I just want to eat food. Which, as it turns out, is a lot to ask for at a dinner party. 

- Want me to come over? - he asks, hand playing idly with the black synthetic hair of his pig mask.

For a second, you seem to be actually considering it, and Hoffman would lie, saying it didn't make something swell up in his chest again. Dangerous, very dangerous. 

- Nah - you sigh, before throwing a long, disgusted look at the door to the restaurant - Give me permission to ditch them. 

He doesn't hesitate to engage in this short, familiar dance of yours. 

- You have my permission to ditch them.

Another sigh, then a wave of giggles. Your expression in the neon lights looks almost affectionate. Hoffman reaches for the chloroform bottle.

- Thank you - is this a blush Hoffman sees on your cheeks, or is it just his mind supplying what he wishes was true, who's to say - For the talk and everything. I'll see you at the station. 

- Good night, Detective.

He disconnects with one hand, while the other wrestles the mask over his face.

 You don't even notice, when he slips behind you, with a chloroform cloth in his palm. It takes a couple of seconds of wrestling, but it still makes him pretty worked up, in more ways than he has anticipated. There is no screaming, for which he is grateful. Your body is strong against his, as you give him all you've got, trying to shake his much larger frame. Your heel digs painfully into his foot, as you slam it down, and he fights back the urge to scream. You can't hear his voice, it would be too telling. While his one hand presses the cloth to your face, the other tries to contain the flurry of panicked punches you throw his way. 

The way you wriggle against him shouldn't really affect him that much, hasn't affected him with any other victims. But the sheer fact it's you he's overpowering, seems to be enough. He balls the cloth in his hand sticking it further down your mouth, and shudders at the feeling of your teeth dragging against his leather gloves. 

A muffled scream is all that you have left, as your hips buck into his forcefully, hands scratching down his forearms. His breathing heavily behind you, watching with mixed emotions as, finally, consciousness leaves you.

 You fall down in a heap at his feet, to which Hoffman has to admit, he has never felt so powerful. There's blood on your stiletto and a perfectly round hole in his shoe. He grunts in annoyance at the prospect of having to hide a limp for a couple of weeks. 

Getting your lifeless body into the trunk of his car is laughably easy. 

***

- So you didn't see who attacked you? - Hoffman clarifies, and you nod solemnly. 

His hands flex, your leg underneath his palm twitching slightly. Strahm sighs heavily next to you, his head hung low, as he massages your fingers so gently, it's almost as if he's afraid you'll break under his touch.

 You appreciate that, him leaving his bad cop persona on the hanger by the door. Still, between his tactful worry and Hoffman's stressed twitchiness, one of you has to be the stern policeman. And it seems this time the honor falls on your shoulders. So, you wiggle in your place, rising into a sitting position. The suddenly stern expression seems almost foreign on your sunken face, a caricature of a person you used to be. No, scratch that, you still are. This is the one thing you won't allow Jigsaw to corrupt. 

- He's strong though - you say, eyes glued to the edge of the green blanket, as you focus on all the sensations from the night of your attack - Uses chloroform to sedate his victims. 

- Kramer? - Hoffman asks and you immediately shake your head. 

- I can take a dying cancer patient. That man was healthy, fucking gigantic and... - your eyebrows furrow - He caught me by surprise right after we ended the call. 

Hoffman looks like he has something else to say, but he swallows thickly, his palm pressing further into your calf. You try to give him a reassuring smile, convince him, that it's alright. It falls flat against his tense expression, and you know deep down, he feels guilty for not talking to you longer, not checking up on you. He shouldn't, but it's just the way he works. And you appreciate it. 

He's enjoying himself far more than he would've anticipated, listening to you talk about him without actually knowing anything.

He likes the way your entire face scrunches in focus, trying to remember anything of note, while he's sitting right here, right in front of you. Perhaps he's becoming an adrenaline junkie? All thanks to you. Yes, he thinks, eyes gliding over your disheveled hair, you're absolutely the enabler here, and you don't even realize that. 

Even after what he put you through.

His jaw tightens at the thought of you never actually learning from this special, intimate experience he has concocted just for the two of you. Haven't you heard the tape? Or perhaps you're just too goddamn dense to comprehend the lesson. As he looks into your doe eyes filled with pity and misguided understanding, he's beginning to think the latter's the case. 

- And after that? - Strahm is still careful, as if you are some startled animal, and Hoffman huffs through his nose, letting some of his bubbling anger out. 

You visibly shudder, and while on the surface both men have the same, worried reaction, Hoffman feels as if he's ready to run a marathon. You're scared, scarred forever by him, and yet here you sit, unaware. Letting him pet your leg like some goddamn pet. Good thing Kramer doesn't actually know how to read minds, otherwise Hoffman might end up in a trap himself for just thinking about you. 

- I woke up in a chair - you answer after a while, your voice numb and emotionless.

That won't do, Hoffman thinks, eyes burrowing into your skull, as if he wants to drill a hole and look straight into your brain. He wants you crying, unconsolable, changed. That carefree, light persona you've been flaunting before him since the moment you've arrived at his station. He wanted it gone. 

- My legs were tied, and my wrists were hanging down from the armrest. There were boxes underneath, with buttons... 

Suddenly, you head snaps up, eyes fiery and filled with righteous fire none of the men expected. Hoffman thinks, for just a second, that something has clicked in your mind. Something that would unmask his entire operation. The thought excites and terrifies him at the same time and subcontiously, he throws a quick look towards Strahm, who's too absorbed in your statement to pay him any mind. 

- He was checking the restraints when I woke up - there is something in your voice, something that makes Strahm lean closer in his chair, something that keeps Hoffman from breathing too deeply, because deep inside he knows what comes next - I think this whole thing can be psycho-sexual.

There. You can hear the pin drop, as your words register in the men's brains. 

- How...? - Strahm starts, but you cut him off harshly.

- He got hard while tying me up.

Silence. 

Only the beeping from the medical apparatus can be heard in the room. Strahm closes his eyes, bracing himself for the next question he has to ask. Hoffman on the other hand is becoming redder and redder under the collar of his shirt. How far will you go with your story?  

- Did he...? - Strahm swallows, cutting himself off.

Hoffman leans forward, as if he wants to pull the answer from between your teeth himself.

Did he? You're avoiding both their gazes, eyes flickering between your bandaged arms, something darker settling over your features as memories flood you. Did he? Hoffman's hand clamps itself down onto your calf, you can feel all five fingers digging into your flesh. How much will you tell, how much are you willing to share with your darling Special Agent? With him? Hoffman feels his chest tighten, every breath becoming more and more shallow. You, on the other hand, inhale slowly, deeply, then exhale.

- He didn't. 

Hoffman wants to laugh. 

***

He tightens the restraints on your left arm, when you start to rouse from sleep. Your head lolls to the side, cheek pressing into his arm. He freezes in his spot, one hand flying towards his face to secure the pig mask over his features. Silence hangs heavily between the two of you, cut only by the quiet groans coming from your waking body.

 Transfixed, Hoffman watches the way your lips seem to hang slightly open, lipstick smeared, mascara running, staining his shirt, as you all but rub your face against his shoulder. You look lovely like this, so vulnerable, with your face mushed against him. Nothing like the headstrong, strudy woman he's come to know over the short time you've spent at his station. 

Were your superiors aware of what they were doing? Sending some pretty young thing, straight from the academy, eyes still shining with ideals, all the way into the heap of corruption that was his city? And right in the middle of the biggest serial killer case the world has ever seen. They must've known you were doomed to fail. The narrative was never on your side, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 

- Mmm... - finally, he can hear your voice get clearer, still groggy from the chemicals he has pumped into your neck - Mark...

He nearly jumps at the sound of his name. Thoughts run rampant through his skull, heart beating so hard, he's scared it will fly right out of his chest. Have you recognized him? He made sure to leave all traces of the Detective Mark Hoffman at the door before starting this. It was impossible, he did everything right. 

Your head rolls back against the backrest of the chair, your throat exposed to the world, to his hungry eyes. Your pulse runs rampant through your veins, and Hoffman feels a sudden urge to rip your trachea out with his teeth. Or, press an open mouthed kiss behind your ear, he can't seem to decide.  

- Oh, Mark... - a moan slips from your lips, and this time, he fully comprehends what is happening.

The realization runs past his brain and straight to his crotch. With shaking hands he reaches for a leather belt, and forcefully pushes it into your mouth, causing your eyelids to flutter.

Finally, your eyes start to open. Pretty eyes, he thinks, especially now that they're surrounded by dark stains from your mascara, glossy and unfocused. You writhe in the chair, as if you're waking up from a wonderful nap, arms straining against the restraints when you try to stretch. Then, your body freezes, realization that something is terribly wrong settling over you in an almost visible shadow. 

Panicked, you turn your head towards him. Tears flow freely down your cheeks, and Hoffman flexes his fingers. The urge to rip his mask off, to show you who he really is grows in him like a tumor.

 Oh the look on your face would be something for the history books. Your favorite grumpy detective, your best work buddy. Would the truth about his identity crush you? He liked to think it would. He liked to think it would suck any will to live right out of you. 

He wanted to have that power over you.

Hoffman drinks in your terrified expression like a man parched. The confusion between your eyebrows, the click in your jaw, when you realized you've been gagged, the way your eyes find him in the darkness of the room. It's almost too easy to let himself be enchanted by the way you look, so different from your usual appearance. 

Where is that young profiler teasing him about his gruff exterior any chance they get? He could never decide whether he wanted to kill you or fuck you in these situations, hiding his frustrations behind an exasperated eyeroll, or a smile if he felt generous. 

Right now, he can't decide either, as you begin to move in the chair, tugging at the belts holding your limbs down, scanning the room behind him, You're smart, he knows and despises that with his whole heart. Because if you weren't, he could just write you off as a naive, stupid girl, who doesn't know her place. But he can't, which means everything you've done, you've been doing intentionally, and the thought boils him from the inside. 

Your gaze falls towards the boxes under your hands, the slits in the armrests, where stainless steel blades reflect the light from a singular lamp. And the beaker, right in front of you, ready to be filled. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what you're supposed to do, and you give out a pathetic whine, which Hoffman immediately commits to his memory.

Killing you is out of his hands now. The game has been set, and the outcome rests solely on your trembling shoulders. The second part however... 

His eyes rake across your entire body, taking in the elegant blouse, which is now stained and torn in a couple of places. The tight pencil skirt you've chosen for the dinner, and how it has ridden up your thighs. Your stockings, torn on your knees, where you fell to the floor. And those damned stilettoes, one of which still has his blood on it's heel . Which reminds him...

Hoffman steps in front of your chair, your eyes following him cautiously. He can see thoughts run rampant through your head, searching for a way to get out, trying to determine his intentions, anything that might be helpful.

Well, good fucking luck Miss Profiler. 

He kneels down in front of you, taking a hold of your calf in a manner so gentle he's surprised himself. The leather gloves on his fingers make the task of unclasping the small belt around your leg a hassle, but he doesn't falter. You two have all the time in the world.

Figuratively speaking. He needs to be out of here in half an hour. 

The heel slips from your foot and Hoffman lets out a barely audible chuckle, as he's greeted by neon pink nail polish. 

Professionalism, you would remind him every single time, whenever he even dreamt of coming closer to you. It was infuriating, the way you led him by his nose, coming to work in the tightest of clothing, swaying your hips like the place belonged to you. And then, you would walk past him with a laugh and wink at Strahm of all people, when you thought he wasn't looking. 

His hand splays out all across your calf, a touch so unexpected, he feels your muscles jump under his fingers. All your focus shatters immediately, as his second hand joins the other, running up and down your leg, stopping just short of your thigh. Realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and he follows your line of vision straight to a very visible problem brewing in his trousers. Mentally, he scolds himself for loosing control so easily. 

If Kramer could see him now, he'd shoot him on the spot. 

But then again, maybe not. After all he agreed to let Hoffman orchestrate this entire game, and then allowed him to carry it out, despite his connections to the victim. You could never guess with that old bastard, and for that, Hoffman is eternally grateful. 

Your body twitches in the chair, as he finally drags his hands higher. You squirm, leather gloves feeling foreign on your skin.

He knows, he knows, he wants to coo at you from under the mask, swallowing the urge with a sigh. You can't hear his voice, he reminds himself, almost too enraptured by the heat radiating off of your body.

He continues to massage your leg, fingers hooking into the torn material of your stocking, pulling at it, tearing it further in an agonizingly slow pace. Almost as if he wants to watch closely as the fibers give away. Then, in a sudden change of pace he rips them entirely apart, until they fall in strips of sheer fabric on the chair.

A gasp escapes you, and you spring into action, legs clamping shut in an instant. You're fast, but Hoffman is faster, and he wedges both his hands between your shaking thighs. It takes little to no effort to open you up again, and he leans down, squeezing his torso between your knees. 

Time freezes for a moment, as the both of you watch each other closely. Your chest is rising and falling in rapid succession, as fire begins to brew in your eyes. Hoffman leans even closer, hands skimming just short of your core, as they forcefully drag your skirt up. 

God, he loves this look on you. The heat, the anger, the swirling desire. Because he can clearly see the way you take in his frame, unknown to you yet so familiar. Were you able to decipher some familiarities? At this point he can't seem to care, he's so close to his reward. 

Touch me, and I'll kill you, your eyes scream at him.

If you kill me, I'll drag you down with me, the dark holes of his mask seem to reply.

Two forceful tugs and the material of your underwear tears from your body. Cold air makes you uncomfortable, yes, but it's nothing compared to the stillness of the man before you. He stares, intensely, for a moment completely frozen in his spot. You can hear deep, heathing breaths coming from the rubber mask and wonder what is going through this strange man's head. For a second you're actually worried this will be the end of it. As much as you hated what was happening to you right now, you would hate it much more, if you were left wanting. 

Your worries are disproved in a split-second, as gloved fingers wiggle their way into your core. They take you apart, delicately at first, as if the man before you is trying to commemorate your every nook and cranny to memory. This slow exploration twists into adoration in your mind, as you fight off an onslaugh of shivers deliciously running down your spine. You huff, muscles tensing at the intrusion. Despite your growing wetness, the man in front of you has some real thick fingers, made even bigger by his leather gloves. 

He turns his masked head to the side, and you desperately want to know what he's thinking. Your head rolls back, as you bite down on the leather belt in your mouth. Eyes closing, your mind starts to wander into places you're too ashamed to acknowledge. 

God, you're sick. Thinking about your much older coworker in this beyond fucked up situation. But your mind has already supplied you with images of him rolling his sleeves up. His eyes following you around the room when he thinks you don't pay attention. Lingering touches that burn through your clothing. Oh, how much you reveled in the attention, how you stored all those small moments in your mind, just to bring them up in the privacy of your home. 

Perhaps you deserve to be put in trap, perhaps this is your lesson. Discovering the depths of your depravity. 

With a deep sigh, Hoffman pushes his finger in, as far as it can go, and your hips nearly fly off the chair, bucking into his palm. The sound you make bounces off the walls of the room, surrounding him in an echo of your cracking voice. Then, he starts to work you, adding a second finger until you wail through your gagged mouth. His entire arm is put to work, body pressing incredibly closer, as he soaks in your face twisted in pain and pleasure. 

This is so much better than what he imagined. And he has had quite the imagination, from the moment you appeared in his life. All the times he would zone out during a meeting, letting you talk to Strahm about a new discovery in the case, while he let his mind wonder. It was torture, pure and simple. There were points where he couldn't be left alone in his office without his pants tightening. Horrible, awful feelings, all of which were your fault. 

His fingers curl into you, and for a second you swear you can see stars flying across your vision. He notices the sudden change, and doubles the efforts at hitting thet exact spot over, and over again until your legs start shaking. His leather-clad thumb presses tightly into your bundle of nerves, bordering on overstimulation. While his right hand brings you closer to your release, his left one grabs every inch of flesh it can find, fondling with your breasts, squeezing your throat, playing with your blushed cheeks. The rubber of the pig mask is cold against your collarbones, as the man presses his weight to your front, as if he wants to bury himself into your chest.

No one can hear your screams, no one except Hoffman, and he commits every note to memory. Then, your voice snuffs out completely, as your entire body tenses so much, he's actually concerned you'll free yourself from the binds. Your release sneaks up on you and seizes your body in a sudden chokehold. For a moment, you can't breathe, teeth grinding against each other. God, it's been an embarrassingly long time ago since you've had even a resemblance of an orgasm like this one.

Hoffman feels wetness cover his entire palm, coming towards his arm. You're breathing heavily, when he slides his fingers out of you, the leather gloves shining with a souvenir of your altercation. He straightens himself above you, knees cracking as he does. Then, for a moment he just stands there, his shoulders rising and falling heavily, as he huffs under the mask. With heavy eyelids, you watch, as the man lifts it ever so slightly. Your vision is blurry, but your stomach still does a flip, when you see an outline of his tongue darting out to taste you. Then, the mask is back all the way on, and the reality of your circumstance becomes clear once again. 

To his credit, he gives you a couple of minutes to gather yourself, as much as you can in this situation. Cold air makes you squirm in your spot, as you feel the stickiness of your release coat your thighs. Then, the man produces a small casette player from his pocket, presses start, and throws it between your still open legs. He's out of the room before the recording even starts and you're left alone to fight. Or to die. 

***

- When I've put my hands in the boxes and pressed the buttons, knives came out from the armrests - you recount, voice steady despite the chills running up your back. - I had to fill the beaker with my blood, then the restraints would give away and the door would open. 

- What was your lesson about? - Hoffman asks, a certain smugness to him, one, that makes you shift in your seat. 

For a second you were worried, that he deduced what has truly happened from your expression. Perhaps he could read minds, and he discovered you've been thinking of him, while getting off on Jigsaw's apprentices hand. You had to physically shake your head to banish the thought. It was hard enough to look him in the face without impossible scenarios looming over you. 

- The tape hasn't been recovered? - you ask with a tightness to your voice.

- It has, but I haven't listened to it yet - a lie. 

A big, fat, fucking lie, and both him and Strahm know it. The other man turns to him with clear confusion, but Hoffman doesn't bother even acknowledging him. He's too invested in that delicate, blooming fire, which starts to eminate from your eyes. The same flame he has seen back in that room, where you looked at him like you wanted to devour him whole. And you don't even know it.

- He said - you swallow, and Hoffman follows the movements of your throat greedily. - He said I was an enabler, that I bring out the worst in people - another swallow, your gaze never faltering, and Hoffman feels his mouth run dry - That I revel in other's misery. 

- That's not true - Strahm jumps towards you, ready to reassure, to be the gentle hand you undoubtedly need.

- I stabbed the fucker in the foot with my stiletto - your voice breaks, and Strahm pulls away with an unreadable expression.

- And one more thing...

Hoffman turns fully towards you, hands running up and down your calf, as if he's trying to massage the memories back to your brain, make you think of how you fell apart on those exact fingers. The thrill of having you here, so close to the truth is unlike anything he's ever felt. 

- I know what he smells like.

Admittedly it's a small thing, an inconsiderable detail, that will most likely help no one. Still, the sheer tone of voice in which you've said it forces Hoffman to make a detour to his house, between the hospital and the police station. There, he takes a black garbage bag and throws away every single piece of cologne he can find in his house. 

Except one. A small sample he remembers using that very night. He stores it in his cupboard, right next to his bed, a small reminder of what has transpired between you both. Balancing his work life and his secret identity has never been easy, but now... He's almost tempted to throw it all away if it means looking into your tear stained eyes again. 

[hooked-on-elvis]

JERRY SCHEFF ON ELVIS

"There was just something about the way he sang, and also the way he'd interact, that was really really good. It was the musical communication and personal communication. He was just really nice to us. It was fun to play, you know." — Jerry Scheff, bass player.

Scene from "Elvis On Tour" (MGM, 1972): Elvis and his bass player Jerry Scheff. Jerry played bass for the singer from July 31, 1969, to February 23, 1973, and again from April 24, 1975, until Presley’s final show on June 26, 1977, at the Market Square Arena in Indianapolis.

The admiration in Jerry's eyes when he looks at Elvis... it was earned. 🥹 Jerry said in an interview he didn't like Elvis' work until 1969, when he was invited to play in Elvis' band in Las Vegas for the first time.

Jerry 'thought that jazz and classical was what was happening at that time' and, although he had played some pop and rock 'n roll songs before working with the King, he never played rock "Elvis' way". The funny thing is: Jerry was a recording studio musician and played in several artists' records, including two records by Elvis himself, but from that moment as a musician working in studios with Elvis prior to work in his live concerts, Jerry has no memories. There's records showing that Jerry Scheff was one of the professional musicians playing in Elvis' soundtrack recording sessions in two occasions prior to the invitation to join in Elvis' TCB Band, but he doesn't remember such moments or ever seeing Elvis at that period. Jerry was asked about it and his first answer was negative, saying that he never played in any of Elvis' soundtrack albums, so the Union contracts were presented to him and there it was. Jerry played bass on the soundtrack albums for the films 'Double Trouble' and 'Easy Come, Easy Go' (both times in 1966).

Below, another picture of Jerry looking at El with that same shine in his eyes (this is 1970 - and that admiration in his eyes means a deep respect, as you'll notice further on):

1970. Jerry Scheff is at the far left in the picture above.

This information above comes from an 1999 interview with Jerry Scheff. Following, a few excerpts that I found very interesting.

Do you remember what songs you rehearsed [in 1969, getting ready for the 'comeback' at the International Hotel in Vegas]? J: Oh, I can't remember. Blues songs, and 'Trying To Get To You', 'My Baby' - things like that. I read somewhere that you rehearsed about 150 songs. J: Oh yeah, we went over a LOT of songs, and then later we never rehearsed at all, so it's a good thing we rehearsed then! (laughs). It surprises me a little that you rehearsed so many songs, and yet stuck to the same 12 - 15 songs the entire engagement. J: Well, that wasn't up to us. It does after a while when you play the same songs, you know, get a little - But the saving grace was that Elvis never did anything the same way twice. We always had to keep our eye on him. You never could just, you know, relax (laughs), you had to pay attention. You never knew what he was gonna do. Never.

Elvis on stage in late 1969 and then early 1972 (with Jerry Scheff).

One interesting point in this interview is what Jerry said about Elvis and his political views:

Did you ever discuss political issues with Elvis? J: No, I never discussed politics with him. But in some ways Elvis was more conservative, and in other ways he was very liberal. He wasn't someone that was following some political line, you know. He'd figure out for himself what he thought was right.

Elvis with Jerry Scheff onstage in the 70s.

Here it is: The most heartwarming moment in this whole interview (I recommend you reading the full article that I'll link at the end), is when Jerry Scheff stands up for his friend:

Towards the end of his life, Elvis was criticized badly for his appearance, his weight gain and so forth. J: You know, I've always been the kind of person that - I don't judge people on what they look like or on their faces. Period. I think that it very well could be that Elvis thought that he was a normal American man approaching middle age, and let himself go a little bit: 'It wasn't anybody's business'.

March 1977: Elvis and his musicians (TCB Band) on stage. Jerry Scheff is at the far up left corner, Ronnie Tutt hides behind his drums and James Burton is at the far right corner.

"The idea that it was Elvis' duty to keep himself pristine looking is ludicrous. It makes me angry to think that people think that. Why, what does he owe them? He doesn't owe them anything."

— Jerry Scheff

The press really went after him for it. J: The press was just horrible. But then again, I don't remember a good review, even in the early years. The press was always horrible. I discounted what they said. There were jokes about him on television shows and stuff, and people were really really cruel. They don't say that about, let's say Neil Diamond. They don't say: 'Neil Diamond is bald now, why doesn't he get a toupet?' or 'He's got a paunch'. Or David Crosby of Crosby, Stills and Nash. They don't go on about him, and he's overweight. But it was Elvis, you know. It makes me angry, it really does. People wanna make money, and if they need to be nasty about it, they'll do that. They'll crack jokes - Saturday Night Live will have a parody of Elvis, some fat guy with a jumpsuit on, and everybody goes Ha, Ha, Ha. They're like grave-robbers, you know. I don't have any respect for them. That part of human nature is not a very positive part of our make-up. A lot of the troubles between human beings are the lack of compassion of one another, and a lack of tolerance between human beings. How many of these same people that are saying this about Elvis and putting these parodies on the screen, how many of them have potbellies, how many of them have let themselves go, how many of them have other faults that are far worse than than the 'sin' of letting yourself get a little overweight? Or being so unhappy that you're - Because I have been there. I had a really bad bout of clinical depression some years ago. I was in that syndrome, that whole thing - drugs, alcohol and stuff. I understand that, you get caught in that. It's not a nice thing. Elvis was obviously in a depression in his last years. Feel some compassion for him, you know. He's a human being, for crying out loud - no worse, and no better. But he was certainly not as bad as some people. He always treated me with respect. We had an extremely good relationship. He was NEVER disrespectful to me. He was always there if I wanted to see him.

Another very interesting thing Jerry Scheff said concerns Elvis' Memphis Mafia guys. It caught my attention because linked that recollection to one of Elvis' old times army buddies' book (Johnny Lang's "My Army Days with Elvis: Friendship, Football, & Follies"). Johnny mentioned attending Elvis concerts in 1975 and 1976. In one of those occasions, Johnny talked to Charlie Hodge backstage and asked him if he could see Elvis and talk to him up close again, after many years without seeing each other after the army service. As Johnny shared, Charlie behaved overprotective and, without even checking, said Elvis was too tired to see anybody, but that he would say Johnny said 'hi' to him. It makes me sad to know not only friends like Johnny were hurt by what they probably assumed were strict orders by Elvis to those men working for him, and that they were only following them, but to think that Elvis many times didn't even was aware there were old friends that still cared for him so much to travel far distances with their families just to watch him perform live on stage, but also hoping that maybe they could be with him for a moment just to catch up a bit, and he never even heard about it... never. We know more about some of those cases than Elvis knew. That's so sad and it makes my blood boil, to be honest. How could they? Jerry Scheff, however, trusts they had their reasons to do such thing as to block people to get too near to Elvis, even old friends:

J: During the last years, these people in the so-called Memphis Mafia got into this Howard Hughes thing, where they could pick and choose who could see him. One night Charlie Hodge came down in the dressing-room, and said: 'You know, Elvis is really bumped out because you guys don't wanna see him'. And Ronnie and I said: 'Charlie, we have been down there to see him, but these guys always say: 'Oh, Elvis is busy'. So Charlie went back and told Elvis that, and Elvis hit the ceiling. Charlie came back and told us that Elvis just blew a stack. So there was that kind of stuff. I'm sure that all these people fulfilled some need that Elvis had, and I don't mean to question their motives. They just did what they thought would be best for him. So I don't try to judge that. But I do know that Elvis was always there for me.

Interview conducted in Denmark 1999 by Arjan Deelen. All rights on the excerpts published here goes to elvis.com.au. There's many other interesting information to learn on this interview. READ THE FULL ARTICLE HERE.

[freeeggbailiffcash]

This promptly would be great and I mean alot. It is about naim and Beja have to work together to make sure their little bros that are dating each other because broken up but all their ways end up in failure due to them can't resist the puppy eyes from said little bros aka fakhri and kahar.

Naim wondered if there is such a thing as going too far, as he stared into the well made presentation on the Samsung tab on the table.

Reza stared expectantly across from him with his usual pristine professional look in spite of taking a slower route of a humble environmental lawyer instead of a malicious businessman warlord that Naim expected when he first saw the regal second son of Dato’ Abu Yamin in Kudrat.

Back then, he barely interacted with Reza, having newly joined the prefect election, most of his tasks were handed out by the Form 4s. Reza was an outlier higher power that Naim never associated with back then.

Funny how it worked out when Kahar had taken the reins, and Naim had curry favors in order to social climb.

Life was…..weird, wasn’t it?

“Habis tu Naim? Kau ada cadangan lain tak?”

Back to the issue at hand, Naim stared dumbly at the meticulous planning Reza had concocted to—wait for it….

To break their little brothers’ relationship?

And just to prove that Reza was absolutely serious, Naim took note of how the entire presentation was in Times New Roman 12pt, 1.5 line spacing.

The proper professional font for something as ridiculous as planning to sabotage their younger siblings’ ill advice relationship.

Naim wonders when he stoop so low.

Just as he thought of that, both their phones ‘ping’ed and Naim found himself mirroring Reza as they both pocketed their phones.

Naim was happy at first, seeing as it was a message from Fakhri.

Until he opened and saw it.

A picture of Kahar and Fakhri feeding each other cake, linking their hands as they stare into each others’ eyes.

Assholes.

Judging by the scowl on Reza’s face, he assumed that he had received the same image.

Honestly, Naim was upset at first when he heard the news of Fakhri and Kahar’s cohabitation.

He knew both of them in separate occurrences, and saw firsthand the disastrous consequence of them butting heads. Both of them were like stubborn mules, too thick headed to admit their faults and too reckless to think far ahead.

So he cautioned Fakhri against it.

He didn’t think Fakhri was still in his rebellious phase where he wanted to do the opposite of whatever he told him to do.

Case in point; the sudden announcement of his and Kahar‘s flaky romantic relationship.

Naim sincerely thought Fakhri was bluffing and that it was some sort of passive agressive counterattack against his two hour lectures of why he should stay a good 10 feet radius away from Kahar at all times.

But Kahar and Fakhri—like the little shits that they were—went above and fucking beyond by, well, fucking each other.

Naim couldn’t look Fakhri straight (ironic, he knows) in the eye for weeks.

As retaliation, he had flooded their apartment with various flyers and pamphlets of safe sex but even he knew it was a weak attempt.

And Fakhri repaid him back by purposely coming to Naim’s own apartment with his neck scattered with purple bruises.

“Kau tak rase ke…. Yang diorang couple betul-betul?” Naim argued weakly.

Reza raised a delicate eyebrow.

“Tak.” Was the immediate answer.

Naim exhaled, fuck, and denial was a fucking river in Egypt.

Nevertheless, he took the tab, swiping to the several other stages of Reza’s sabotage plan, silently wondering why the hell couldn’t Fakhri choose to date literally anyone else?

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Step 1: Highlight their different palates.

The only advantage that existed to this was that both Naim and Reza supposedly knew their baby brothers best. Ergo, they knew what it was that tick both of them off most.

The key to sabotage was to use their own nature against them. And if there was one thing both Fakhri and Kahar were, it was stubborn.

Their tastes were another story entirely—polar opposites that somehow coexisted. Until now.

Which was why Naim found himself sitting across from Jay and Prakash at a nondescript mamak, arms crossed as he explained their role in this plan.

“Soo… kau nak suruh aku mintak Fakhri and Kahar…masak untuk kitorang?” Jay asked, eyeing both Reza and Naim skeptically.

Naim nodded, hand waving off vaguely gesturing, “kau cakap laa teringin nak rase makanan tradisional ke apa ke?”

“Are guests typically allowed to make demands from their host? Especially since Fakhri and Kahar never invited us to come in the first place?” Prakash deadpanned.

Naim shot a glare at Reza but ultimately tried to persuade his batchmates. There was another simultaneous ‘ping’ notification on both his and Reza’s phone which means their asshole little brothers was either sending another photo or nauseating video.

Naim had cleared his gallery twice that week.

“Fakhri dalam fasa dia nak baik-baik dengan semua kawan dia,” Naim insisted, remembering Fakhri’s turn over the cheek was the very reason he got in contact with Kahar in the first place, “so kalau korang kata nak lawat diorang, konfirm diorang terima.”

“Lepas tu, apa jadi sebenarnya nanti?”

“Lepas tuuu,” Naim replied, enunciating his words carefully, “Fakhri mesti nak masak something yang mama or papa kitorang pernah ajar. And Kahar pon akan masak dia punya lauk sendiri—so nanti diorang gaduh.”

It’s clear that Jay was still dubious about the plan but both Reza and him shared a look.

They both know that Fakhri and Kahar, to some extent, enjoy cooking but there were a lot of heritage differences as well as habitual factors.

Fakhri hated seeing things pile up in the sink, while Kahar leaves the kitchen like a world war one battlefield each time he finished cooking.

Another thing was that Fakhri likes spicy food. Kahar could barely tolerate anything that wasn’t doused in sugar.

It was those little things that should create some visual chasm for the two dumbass to accept that their relationship shouldn’t work out.

But explaining all that to Jay and Prakash would be such a hassle. Suddenly, Reza cleared his throat before flashing a menacing smile as he carefully asked Naim to leave for a minute.

It was the tell-tale sign of Reza finally losing his thin string of patience and Naim willingly left, with a heartfelt wish if luck to Jay and Prakash who were about to receive the older man’s wrath.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The plan was simple. Jay would casually suggest that Fakhri should show off his so-called hidden talent in cooking, a point of pride the younger boy rarely got to display.

With Naim’s subtle nudging, Fakhri took the bait almost immediately, agreeing to cook. Kahar, not one to be outdone, immediately insisted he’d make something better.

(See! How can Fakhri and Kahar stay in a relationship if they still compete against each other in everything)

And thus, the stage was set.

“Asal laa kau suka sangat masak pedas-pedas,” Kahar grumbled, arms crossed as he eyed the pile of chili Fakhri was dumping into his dish. “Appendix siot—dah lah nanti lidah terbakar je, last-last kembung air je.”

Fakhri scoffed. “Habis tu kau—sume bende kau tambah gula, tak ke potong kaki, manis je. Sampai gulai kari pon kau nak tambah gula, gilo lak aii.”

“Ehh?! Kari aku sedap kot!” Kahar snapped, gripping the handle of his ladle like he was prepared to use it as a weapon. “Tak macam kau, habis sepeket Babas kau pakai.”

“Kau yang degil! Aku suruh kau beli rempah Adabi, yang kau beli lain apehal?”

“Dah tuu je yang tinggal. Takkan aku nak pergi samlai dua tiga kedai—”

Jay and Prakash exchanged glances from their spot at the dining table, wondering how the hell were they roped into becoming the children of future divorce.

“You think they’ll actually break up over this?” Jay whispered to Prakash.

The Indian man glared at him, fingers numbly writing down the situation to report to the evil overlord who blackmailed them.

“We wouldn’t be here if you were more careful,” Prakash retorted.

“Mana laa aku tahu Reza nampak kita dating kat Maid’s cafe tuu!” Jay cried out indignation.

From a cafe nearby the apartment complex, both Naim and Reza listened to the recording of Fakhri and Kahar’s escalating argument with mild satisfaction.

Step 1: Success.

[monochromaticbeans]

☁️Cruising Altitude

Bonten's corporate pilot, Kobayashi Tomoe, uses her professionalism and unshakable demeanor as a shield, keeping everyone at arm's length. Her flight skills and her willingness to turn a blind eye to the brutality of Bonten make her a valuable asset. But, Kokonoi Hajime catches glimpses of the person behind the enigma that is Tomoe and discovers there is much more to her than the detached, polished persona she presents. Will they let their guards down and allow themselves to form a connection in a world where trust is a rare, and sometimes dangerous, commodity?

Chapter 1:

The cabin of the private jet thrummed with the steady whine of the engines, a sound both constant and soothing—a stark contrast to the storm of Bonten’s daily operations. Kokonoi Hajime leaned back in his seat, legs crossed, enveloped in the clean scent of polished leather. Beyond the window, endless clouds stretched like a pristine canvas, untainted by the turbulence of the world below.

In the cockpit, Kobayashi Tomoe sat framed by the glow of the avionics display screens. Her hands moved with expert precision, toggling switches and murmuring into her headset. The sleek jet was designed for two pilots, though it was equally capable of single-pilot operation. Watching her, it was obvious she didn’t need assistance. Confidence radiated from every gesture.

Koko’s gaze lingered on her silhouette through the open cockpit door. He’d done his research, as always. When Mikey had approved her as Bonten’s new pilot, Koko hadn’t trusted paperwork and contracts alone. Background checks, financial records, whispers in shadows—he’d unearthed everything. It all painted a picture of a woman with precision etched into her very being.

She’d been exceptional. Beyond reproach. Until the scandal.

That detail had immediately piqued his interest. An accusation of misconduct—unsubstantiated, but loud enough to ruin her. The whispers claimed she’d traded certain sorts of favors for promotion. Koko had heard the same script too often to buy it wholesale. The politics of corporate aviation were no different from those in finance or crime, it seemed. Fragile egos and backdoor vendettas were standard fare.

It was easy to trace the name of her accuser: Ishida Riku. An unimpressive pilot whose only true talent is manipulation. Koko hadn’t needed much imagination to reconstruct the scene: Ishida, bitter at being passed over, used Tomoe’s ambition and gender as a weapon. The company’s decision to cut her loose was less about justice and more about keeping up appearances.

And it hadn’t taken long for Ishida to land Tomoe's former chief pilot position and for her career to spiral. No corporation or airline, domestic or international, would touch her. That part probably stung the most—doors slamming shut, one after the other, until only one remained.

Bonten.

Koko glanced back at Tomoe, now adjusting the autopilot with a serene expression, her focus unbroken. She didn’t look like someone desperate enough to take Bonten’s offer out of necessity. Her composure told a different story—one of a woman who had buried her emotions where no one could reach them.

It intrigued him.

He reached for a crystal tumbler on the table beside him, the soft clink of ice breaking the quiet. The details of her past were irrelevant, of course. She did her job with meticulous efficiency, and that was all that mattered. But still...

“Everything all right up there?” His voice carried easily through the cabin, breaking the silence.

“Smooth skies, Kokonoi-sama. We’ll be landing ahead of schedule.”

Her reply was calm, even soothing, free of hesitation. Koko swirled the water in his glass, his gaze resting on her silhouette. There was a steadiness about her that he rarely encountered—an ability to remain unaffected by Bonten’s imposing presence. Whether it was genuine composure or sheer practicality, he couldn’t decide.

“Good,” he said, his tone measured. “Efficiency is important.”

She didn’t respond, her attention already back on the controls. The soft reflection of instrument lights highlighted her sharp features, and for a fleeting moment, Koko wondered if she ever truly relaxed—or if, like him, she was always calculating, always in motion beneath the surface, always playing a part.

The silence stretched on, heavy but not uncomfortable. Yet curiosity gnawed at him, persistent and unbidden. He wasn’t one for idle conversation, but her presence challenged his usual restraint.

“Did you always want to fly?”

The question surprised even him, though he kept his expression neutral, as if the inquiry were incidental.

Tomoe turned slightly, just enough for her gaze to meet his. “Since I was a child,” she said after a pause. “I liked the idea of being above it all. Clear skies, open horizons—it seemed peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” he echoed, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “And yet here you are.”

Her hands stilled briefly, her fingers just grazing the controls. For a moment, Koko thought she might deflect the comment, but her answer came steady and unshaken.

“It’s still peaceful up here,” she replied. “No matter who’s in the passenger seat.”

His smirk deepened. Clever. She had a way of sidestepping without appearing evasive, of answering without truly answering. He appreciated that.

“Touché,” he murmured.

Her focus returned to the instruments, and Koko let the silence reclaim the cabin. Most people around him floundered for his approval, their efforts obvious and exhausting. But Tomoe seemed content to remain an enigma. It made her all the more intriguing.

He set his glass down, the soft clink of ice against crystal punctuating the quiet. “You don’t strike me as someone who questions orders, Kobayashi.”

Her pause stretched just long enough in her deliberation. When she spoke, her voice was steady, almost maddeningly composed. “I follow orders when they make sense. And when they don’t, I still follow them... if necessary.”

A low chuckle escaped him, quiet and contained. It was more for his own amusement than hers. “Practical,” he said, the word a slow drawl. “I like that.”

He didn’t miss the way her shoulders stiffened just slightly, the only tell in her otherwise impeccable exterior. It wasn’t fear—it was control. She was trying to gauge him, the way a bird might watch a cat from the corner of her eye.

“Kokonoi-sama,” she said, her tone shifting as she redirected the conversation. “We’re approaching our descent. I’ll need to focus.”

“Of course.” He leaned back, his smile faint and amused as he observed her.

Tomoe’s hands moved deftly over the controls, easing the throttles back as the jet began its smooth descent. Koko allowed his eyes to drift closed, the soft hum of the engines and the supple leather beneath him lulling him into a rare moment of relaxation. There was no doubt in his mind she would land them flawlessly. Her skill had never been a question.

And yet, his thoughts lingered on her. On her precise deflections, the calm veneer that betrayed nothing. What would it take, he wondered, to breach that exterior? To see beyond the carefully curated surface and glimpse the person beneath?

The jet touched down smoothly on the private airstrip, its wheels kissing the tarmac so gently it was almost imperceptible. Tomoe guided the aircraft along the runway, the fuselage gleaming in the fading light of dusk. By the time the plane rolled to a stop near a discreet hangar, Koko was already collecting his belongings.

She emerged from the cockpit as he expected—composed, her movements as crisp and efficient as they had been in flight.

“Impressive landing, as always,” he remarked, his tone smooth and devoid of unnecessary praise.

“Thank you, Kokonoi-sama,” she replied with a slight inclination of her head.

Tomoe paused by the cabin door, glancing at her watch before pressing the mechanism to lower the stairs. The hiss of hydraulics filled the cabin as the stairway descended, allowing the cool evening air to rush in. It carried with it the mingled scents of pine and jet fuel, the turbines behind them clicking softly as they spooled down.

As she stepped aside to let him disembark first, Koko’s movements stilled. “I assume your accommodations are arranged?”

She nodded, her reply as efficient as her actions. “I’ll be staying at the staff lodging nearby. Everything is set.”

He regarded her for a moment, his sharp gaze searching. Most newcomers in Bonten’s orbit didn’t argue over meager arrangements, too wary of appearing ungrateful. Yet Tomoe’s demeanor wasn’t one of reluctant acceptance. She wasn’t settling—she was choosing.

“Staff lodging,” he repeated, his smirk subtle but unmistakable. “How modest of you.”

“It’s practical,” she replied evenly, her tone unyielding.

“Practical,” he echoed, as though testing the flavor of the word. Amusement flickered in his expression, but he let the comment hang, unchallenged.

Before she could respond, the low rumble of engines reached them. A pair of black SUVs emerged from the tree-lined perimeter, their headlights cutting through the deepening dusk. The vehicles rolled to a stop just short of the jet, their sleek frames a stark reminder of the world she inhabited.

Tomoe’s posture tightened, though her expression betrayed nothing. The men who exited the SUVs moved with quiet precision, their dark suits and coordinated steps marking them as Bonten operatives. Her gaze remained neutral, but the unspoken tension in her frame told Koko she was keenly aware of the hierarchy they represented.

One of the men approached, bowing slightly as he addressed Koko in a low voice. “Kokonoi-sama, everything is ready. Shall we proceed?”

Koko handed off his briefcase with a nod. “I’ll join you shortly.”

The man retreated, leaving him alone with Tomoe once more.

“You’ll be on standby until further notice,” he said, his tone brisk but laced with finality. “Stay available.”

“Of course, Kokonoi-sama,” she replied, her voice as measured as ever.

As Koko descended the stairs, he hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. His sharp eyes caught hers, his gaze lingering just long enough to draw her full attention. “You’ve done well today.”

The unexpected compliment made her blink, though she recovered quickly, her face an unflappable mask. “Thank you, Kokonoi-sama.”

A flicker of something unreadable passed across his face before he turned away, his steps carrying him to the waiting SUV.

Tomoe stood at the cabin doorway, the cool air brushing her face as the convoy pulled away into the shadows. She remained there, her gaze fixed on the darkened road ahead. There had been an edge to his parting words—an acknowledgment that trust in Bonten was never given lightly, and never without consequence.

She exhaled slowly, retreating into the jet to begin her post-flight routine. Her professionalism would carry her through this life, no matter how demanding it became.

And yet, as she worked, a thought lingered in the back of her mind: Kokonoi Hajime was not as inscrutable as he wanted her to believe.

***

The calm Tomoe had felt in the cockpit was long gone. She stood near the edge of the hangar, the harsh glare of fluorescent lights throwing jagged shadows across the concrete. Outside, the cold night stretched in silence, broken only by the distant hum of traffic.

The black SUVs from earlier loomed nearby, their presence a quiet reminder of who she worked for. Inside one of them, a man slumped against the leather seat, blood staining the collar of his shirt. Two of Bonten’s men flanked him, their faces unreadable, like they were carved in stone.

Tomoe’s jaw tightened as her gaze shifted away from the scene unfolding a few meters away.

Kokonoi stood off to her left, his phone in hand, typing with graceful efficiency. His other hand rested in his pocket, his posture casual, as though this were no more than another item on his endless to-do list.

Nearby, Sanzu Haruchiyo crouched in front of a man kneeling on the concrete, his grin sharp and wicked in the flickering light. A cigarette dangled lazily between his fingers, the ember at the end glowing in the dark. The kneeling man trembled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as blood dripped from a split lip.

“This one doesn’t listen very well,” Sanzu said, mockery curling through his voice. He exhaled a plume of smoke, the air thick with the acrid scent. “Thought he could skim off the top and walk away clean.”

The man whimpered, his shaking hands pressed flat against the ground, as if hoping it would open and swallow him whole.

The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the traces of jet fuel. It clung to Tomoe’s senses, ghostly and inescapable. She kept her gaze fixed on the jet, forcing herself to focus on its sleek outline, the shape of its landing gear—anything but the chaos behind her.

The muffled sounds of pleading and excuses scraped at the edges of her composure, but she didn’t turn around. She knew better.

Behind her, Kokonoi and Sanzu stood as contrasting pillars of power—one cold and clinical, the other wild and volatile. The kneeling man’s voice cracked with desperation, his words tumbling over themselves in frantic apologies. None of it mattered. The script was already written.

A faint prickle crawled up Tomoe’s spine, the sense of unease she’d learned to bury. This wasn’t the first time she’d brushed up against Bonten’s brutality, but witnessing it so openly was a different weight to carry.

Her fingers curled into fists, hidden in the pockets of her jacket. Her face remained a stoic mask of neutrality, her posture steady. The smallest crack could invite questions she couldn’t afford to answer.

“Don’t worry, Kobayashi-chan,” Sanzu drawled, his voice cutting through the night like a blade. “We’re not expecting you to get your hands dirty. Not yet, anyway.”

Tomoe’s gaze didn’t waver from the jet. Her expression stayed blank, impenetrable. She refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“That’s enough, Sanzu,” Kokonoi said, his tone cool but firm, a quiet authority that ended the moment.

Sanzu clicked his tongue in mock disappointment but didn’t press further. The grinding of his shoe extinguishing the cigarette echoed faintly before he stepped away. Around them, the low murmurs of Kokonoi’s men resumed, indifferent to the tension lingering in the air.

Tomoe inhaled slowly through her nose, forcing her heartbeat into an even rhythm.

“You can go, Kobayashi,” Kokonoi said, his voice cutting clean through the noise. It was smooth, almost dismissive, but she caught the faint edge beneath it. “This doesn’t concern you.”

She hesitated—just for a breath. Turning away would protect the detachment she’d worked so hard to cultivate, but the weight of leaving it all behind pressed down on her.

Still, she’d made her choice long before this moment.

“Understood, Kokonoi-sama,” she said evenly.

Her steps were deliberate as she walked toward the hangar, each one heavier than the last. She kept her back straight, her composure intact, even as the faint sounds of muffled cries lingered behind her. Her professionalism was her armor, and it couldn’t crack now. Not here.

Inside the hangar, the chill of the metal wall seeped through her jacket as she leaned back against it, finally allowing herself to exhale. Her hands were steady—a little too steady. The image of the kneeling man flashed in her mind: the blood streaking his face, his trembling shoulders.

It wasn’t her business. She’d told herself that from the moment she signed on with Bonten. And yet...

Footsteps approached, sharp and precise, breaking her thoughts. She straightened instinctively as Kokonoi appeared in the doorway. His face was unreadable, his sharp gaze sweeping over her like an inventory check.

“You handled that well,” he said, his voice silk-smooth but carrying a faint undercurrent she couldn’t quite place.

“I’m just here to do my job, Kokonoi-sama,” she replied, her tone measured, unwavering.

“And yet,” he said, his gaze narrowing slightly, “most people in your position would have made the mistake of looking.”

Her stomach twisted, but she didn’t flinch. “Looking wouldn’t have changed anything.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “Pragmatic as always.”

He shifted, leaning against the doorway, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. “You’re an interesting one, Kobayashi.”

“Should I be concerned?” she asked, letting the slightest trace of dry humor slip into her voice.

“Not unless you give me a reason to be,” he replied, his smirk deepening.

The silence that followed was heavy but not altogether uncomfortable, an unspoken understanding hanging between them. Kokonoi didn’t linger. He turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the night.

Tomoe remained still, her grip on her professionalism unwavering. She’d chosen this life, and she would endure whatever it demanded. She had no other option.

Yet as she stared at the empty doorway, she couldn’t shake the lingering weight of Kokonoi’s scrutiny. It wasn’t just Bonten’s violence she would have to withstand—it was the constant, unrelenting gaze of men like him.

➡️Chapter 2 🛫

[wonmrk]

Think about me - N.J.HYUCK ONE SHOT

genre : smut , fluff , angst (?) , mild breeding kink , edge kink.

implied relationship , actor x male reader

wc: 2k , lowercase intended , NJH bttm reader top

synopsis : nam joo-hyuck , south koreas heart-throb. most versatile actor to ever graze this earth , but to y/n? he’s your lover. before , the both of them hardly ever saw each other but now with y/n being his assistant , both only spoke under the eyes of many professionals so it was tense , lots of things are left unsaid until the both have had enough.

“CUT” the director announced , that was your cue to head over to joo hyuck and wipe the sweat off his forehead. the scene was rigorous , he was casted in was an action centered show so there’s was a lot of fighting.

“all good?” you said loud enough for his ears to hear. He nodded and looked at you. this was normal for you , you didn’t expect much of answer when in these types of settings.

when you first became his assistant , it was completely awkward … you would have never thought you’d be assisting your boyfriend , maybe assisting another actor or idol but your man ? nope. soon enough , everything settled and you both became accustomed.

the phone rings , unsure ; you pick up the call and it’s a man from the other side.

“mr. l/n , it’s mr. jung. sir hyuck is drunk and is asking for you to pick him up , we are in *** bar.

with that , that call ended and you sped your way to the bar.

you tried your best to pick him up and keep him on his feet , unsure as to why he even drank this much. if you could tell him how much of a dumbass he looks like you would , but decided not to just to keep the peace.

“sir hyu-“

“I’m your b-boyfriend.” *hiccup*

you chuckled.

After being situated in the car , he started spewing nonsense , like grumbles and incoherent sentences.

“sometimes i feel bad for being busy all the time ; i- i miss you.” *hiccup*

your knuckles got white of how hard you were gripping the steering wheel. being sad would be an understatement , you were upset because you miss him too. being his assistant was a blessing and a curse.

ever since that day , tension has been high.

“i’ll get that for you.” you opened a water bottle and placed a straw inside “here” you handed it to him and began fixing his hair. you regret looking in the mirror , even though it is your job to make sure he looks pristine and presentable the quick glance you shared with him made you feel some type of way.

sometimes you wonder if he remembers what he had said to you at his drunken state , but you can’t be completely sure he does …

“y/n” you look up being brought back to reality.

“yes mr. hyu-.” you look into the mirror and see the hair iron smoking from being placed too long on his hair. your eyes widen and you remove the hot iron and blow onto his hair.

“im so sorry mr. hyuck , that will not happen again.” you blow the hair some more till it stops emitting smoke.

“what were you thinking about?”

there were some eyes on the both of you , you just laugh it off.

“it was nothing , just got distracted.” you smile , luckily his hair didn’t burn off , that wouldn’t been detrimental.

you can’t help but feel joo-hyucks piercing gaze. you knew what he was thinking and you knew he would bring it up later today when he has the chance. there’s no way you can just avoid him.

. . .

work was a drag , both joo-hyuck and you were ready to just shower and get to bed.

finally pulling up to the driveway you just thought of laying in bed and-

“y/n”

‘fuck fuck FUCK’ is all you could think , how do you even avoid explaining to your boyfriend that you were just thinking of what he said to you that night.

“are you listening?” joo hyuck spoke loud enough to stop you from thinking.

he noticed you didn’t listen to anything he said and got angry.

“you didn’t even listen to anything i said , you’ve been so absent minded lately ; i never know what you think about anymore , do you even think about me?” joo-hyuck just kept rambling about his thoughts and how he felt which made you upset because you also hadn’t known what he was thinking about and knowing that he’s thinking this way makes you feel as if you haven’t tried hard enough.

“joo-hyu-“

“you’re even calling me by my name , you never do that.”

his eyes got teary.

you decided to not waste any time in explaining and just kiss him , holding his face softly stroking his cheek with your thumb.

departing from the kiss you see his semi swollen eyes and wipe a tear rolling down his face away. you never wanted to see him cry.

“what are you t-thinking about?” *hiccup*

He places his hand on your cheek and looks into your eyes with a pleading gaze.

“this might be dumb but , that day you were drunk and I had to pick you up.”

He nods recalling the event.

“well , when we were in the car ; you just kept rambling and then said that you missed me and I just wanted - or well want to say that I do too , I love you and I miss you too … i just feel like you have such a busy schedule but i understand because that’s your job … i-i’m just saying i miss you too joo-hyuck even when we’re together or apart i miss you and love you.”

it took a minute for joo-hyuck to register what you said to him , you became teary eyed and anxiously waited for him to say something to you.

“y/n , i do remember i just n-never mentioned it because i didn’t want it to be awkward.

you chuckle at how careless he is , but you understood and he understood , that’s what mattered to you.

both of you knew the love was genuine.

“let’s go inside , i might have a surprise for you.” after saying that , nervousness engulfed your body.

. . .

you looked at joo-hyuck and kissed him , every minute that passed by the kiss got deeper and passionate.

stumbling into the shared bedroom , you threw him onto the bed and towered over joo-hyuck taking off his shirt and placing kisses all over in every crevice your lips made contact with.

his moans , something you haven’t heard in a minute. you noticed how his dick was becoming hard by just mere kisses.

you swirled your tongue around his nipple , nibbling on it causing him to sharply gasp. your mind was going crazy , you desired him more than ever.

he tugged onto your head and pushed you down , you know what he wants but you won’t give it to him easily.

you grabbed his wrist and pinned it down onto the bed , you stare at him in awe , his eyes glossy. he took his other arm and placed his hand onto your head pushing you down to meet with his lips.

you bite his lower lip and swallow his moan , you groan at your cock aching.

you rushed to take off his dress pants , he looked hot ; his bulge prominent while his boxers wet with pre-cum.

“hurry.” his voice hushed and airy , joo-hyuck wished for pleasure so badly , but giving it to him so easily would be boring. you take off his boxers and drag your index finger around his cock , pressing on his tip with your thumb ; a string of pre-cum connecting the both of you.

you slap his cock and spit on it earning a cry , pumping him slowly and steadily.

“b-baby , cmo-“ sentence cut short after you began to vigorously jerk him off , you begin to jerk yourself off as well , becoming a moaning mess.

“i want you i-inside.” your lover pleaded.

“turn over.” you demanded and he obliged , you grabbed the lube off your night table and squeezed some onto your hands.

you start prepping him and sticking one finger into his ass , joo-hyuck’s moans were like ecstasy to you , you wanted to ruin him and make him cry.

you stick another finger , he yelps.

“shhh it’s okay , relax ill take care of you.” with your other hand you rub his ass and slap it , joo-hyuck sniffles. once finished , you squeezed lube onto your dick and slowly insert yourself.

you go back and forth at a steady pace while feeling his walls encase your cock.

“faster , please.” you grabbed onto a chunk of his hair pulling his head back and began ramming into him forcefully , you forgot how tight he was.

“you take me in so well.” if there was someone in the house all they would here was skin slapping and loud moans from joo-hyuck , nonetheless , everything was perfect.

“im c-close - ahh.” your lover cries at the immense sensation.

you pull out and flip him over , both now facing each other. you insert yourself once more and speed up the pace , you take your hand and begin jerking joo-hyuck off making his back arch at the feeling.

“ah! so good~” his tongue out as he pants causing him to drool on himself , he’s such a mess but only for you.

“c-can i cum?” he can’t even form sentences anymore.

you grab onto his face as your eyes lower on his body , looking at the hickies you left on him , how beautiful you left him.

“you can cum.” you pounded into him continuously , his orgasm was messy with strings of cum everywhere , even on the floor.

“cum in me.” you obliged.

you filled him up so much , every last drop all in him.

you pulled out and see cum drip out , you swipe off his sweaty forehead and planted a kiss. you headed into the bathroom and retrieved a towel and wiped the both of you off.

“Let’s take a shower.” you picked him up and placed him in the shower turned it on and the both of you bathed.

“I love you.” you heard joo-hyuck weakly say.

“I love you too baby.” you caressed his cheek and kiss him softly.

[republicsecurity]

Maintenance Workshop

[The maintenance workshop is a pristine, high-tech facility, gleaming white with advanced machinery humming softly in the background. JK505 and 60CCD, now accustomed to the controlled environment, step out of their armor suits. An Armor Suit Trainee Technician, also in an armor suit but without a helmet, greets them. His head is shaved, reflecting the academy’s strict grooming standards.]

Technician: [Smiling, with a professional demeanor] "How's it going, cadets? Any issues with your suits lately?"

JK505: [Flexes his shoulders, slightly wincing] "Yeah, I've noticed some chafing and a sore spot on my right thigh. It's been bothering me for a few days now."

60CCD: [Nods in agreement] "Same here. Plus, I think the servos in my left leg are a bit sluggish."

[The Technician taps on his tablet, making notes with swift, precise movements.]

Technician: "Got it. I'll make sure to address those issues. It's important that your suits function perfectly. We’ll also be installing some upgrades, which will take about two days. Hope you're not too sad to be out of your suits for that long."

[JK505 and 60CCD exchange glances, a mix of relief and slight apprehension in their eyes.]

JK505: [Trying to sound nonchalant] "Two days, huh? Well, I guess it’s a good opportunity to take a break."

60CCD: [Smirks] "Yeah, but it feels weird to be out of them for that long. Almost... exposed."

Technician: [Nods understandingly] "I get it. The suits become a second skin. But don’t worry, we'll get everything sorted out. Now, let's get you both out of those suits and into something more comfortable."

[As the cadets step out of their armor, they feel a brief moment of vulnerability, standing naked in the workshop. They brought with them lightweight sports chastity cages, black comfortable uniform coveralls, and sturdy boots. The Technician looks them over with a critical eye, ensuring no additional physical issues are present.]

Technician: "Alright, you both seem fine. We'll fix those sore spots and sluggish servos, no problem. In the meantime, suit up in these."

[The cadets slip into the garments they brought, feeling the soft fabric against their skin, a stark contrast to the hard, protective armor they’re used to. The Technician watches them with a sympathetic smile.]

JK505: [Adjusting his coverall] "It’s strange to be out of the suit, but also... liberating in a way."

60CCD: "Yeah, but I'll miss the constant data stream and the feeling of being fully integrated with the system."

Technician: [Chuckles] "Don’t get too used to it. You’ll be back in your suits soon enough. And with the upgrades, it’ll be like having a brand new skin. We’re always improving the tech to make sure you’re at peak efficiency."

[The Technician steps closer, sharing a moment of understanding.]

Technician: "I love being in my suit as well, just like all of us technicians. It’s comforting, you know? The sense of security, the connection. So I understand your apprehension."

JK505: "Thanks. It helps to know we're not alone in this."

60CCD: "Yeah, knowing you get it makes it easier."

[The Technician nods, giving them a reassuring pat on the shoulder.]

Technician: "Remember, everything we do here is to ensure you’re the best you can be. Your discomfort is noted, and it’ll be fixed. Just enjoy the break and be ready to get back into action."

JK505: "We will. Thanks for taking care of us."

60CCD: "Yeah, thanks. Looking forward to seeing the improvements."

[brilliantrugcleaningmelbourne1]

How Persian Rug Cleaners in Melbourne Can Keep Your Rugs Pristine?

Rugs are quite expensive and also quite prone to damage if not maintained properly requiring the need for professional persian rug cleaners in Melbourne to keep the rugs fresh and prolong their life.

Rugs add significantly to the interior design and help in enhancing the aesthetics of the house and one must keep them clean.

When the rugs are not cleaned for long periods of time then dirt and many pathogens can remain stuck to the rugs and this not only makes the interiors look dirty but also can make people fall sick as well.

Unclean Rugs: Importance of Commercial Rug Cleaning Services in Melbourne

Foot traffic and general exposure to the environment cause rugs to attract and trap dust, pet hair, pollen, bacteria and spills. A good professional commercial rug cleaning services in Melbourne will eliminate deep-set dirt, revitalise the colours in the rug and contribute to preventing wear which will maintain the quality of the rug and prolong its usage.

Gradually, the dirt particles become embedded in the fibres, making the rug look dull and possibly spreading allergens into the air. Rugs get dirtier faster in high-traffic places or in houses with pets and children, causing bad smells and health hazards. It is important to clean the rugs regularly not only to make them look good but also to ensure a healthy indoor environment.

Professional rug cleaning services play a critical role in ensuring the hygiene and aesthetics of high-footfall environments like offices, hotels, and shopping areas. Commercial rugs get dusty, stained, and full of allergens and odour over time, resulting in poor indoor air quality and business image.

Instead, professional cleaning employs high-tech methods such as steam cleaning, dry cleaning and hot water extraction to fully clean fibres without affecting the rug badly. There are specialised techniques based on the type of rug material, be it wool, silk or synthetic.

Professional cleaning on a regular basis will prolong the life of the rug, eliminate the possibility of allergies among the employees and provide a nice presentable atmosphere.

Rug repair businesses recondition the usefulness and beauty of worn-out rugs, tears, pet destruction, burns, or ragged fringes. Repair work involves reweaving, patching, replacing fringes and colour correction to perfectly blend with the original design.

This helps maintain both the aesthetic and financial investment of high-quality rugs in addition to avoiding small problems before they develop into larger ones that cannot be reversed, ultimately increasing the total lifespan of the rug.

Contact professional agencies for experienced technicians to examine the rug material and construction and then choose the most appropriate restoration process.

Source

[artisticblinds]

Transforming Workspaces with Commercial Blinds

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Window treatments are a cornerstone of creating functional and appealing business environments. In offices, retail stores, or hospitality venues, the right window coverings can elevate the space, balancing aesthetics with practicality. Blinds for business use stand out for their ability to meet the unique demands of commercial settings, offering durability, versatility, and style. Unlike residential options, which focus on personal comfort,

 commercial blinds are designed to handle high-traffic areas while projecting a polished, professional image. They serve as a subtle yet impactful element in shaping how employees and clients perceive a workspace.

The visual impact of a business’s interior can influence its success. Well-chosen blinds can complement a company’s design ethos, whether it’s a sleek corporate office or a cozy café. By selecting window treatments that align with the space’s purpose, businesses can create an environment that feels both inviting and purposeful, setting the tone for productivity and engagement.

Optimizing Light for Productivity and Comfort

Natural light is a valuable asset in any workplace, but without proper control, it can become a liability. Excessive sunlight can cause glare, making it difficult for employees to focus on screens or tasks. Commercial blinds address this challenge by offering precise light management. With adjustable slats or fabric options, these blinds allow businesses to fine-tune light levels throughout the day, creating a comfortable and productive atmosphere.

The ability to control light also enhances employee well-being. Research shows that access to natural light improves mood and reduces stress, but too much light can lead to discomfort or distractions. Blinds designed for business use provide a solution by filtering sunlight to maintain a bright yet balanced environment. For example, roller blinds in meeting rooms can block out light during presentations, while sheer blinds in open-plan offices allow soft light to create a welcoming vibe. This adaptability ensures that every workspace remains functional and pleasant.

Boosting Energy Efficiency in Commercial Spaces

Energy costs are a significant concern for businesses, particularly in buildings with large windows. Uncontrolled sunlight can lead to heat gain in summer or heat loss in winter, driving up heating and cooling expenses. Blinds for business use are engineered to improve energy efficiency by acting as a thermal barrier. By reducing heat transfer, they help maintain stable indoor temperatures, easing the burden on HVAC systems.

For instance, honeycomb blinds trap air within their cellular structure, providing insulation against external temperatures. In warmer climates, solar shades can block UV rays while preserving outward visibility, reducing the need for air conditioning. These energy-saving features not only lower utility bills but also align with growing demands for sustainable business practices. By investing in high-quality commercial blinds, companies can reduce their environmental footprint while achieving long-term cost savings.

Durability for High-Traffic Environments

Commercial spaces demand window treatments that can endure constant use. Blinds for business use are crafted from robust materials like metal, vinyl, or reinforced fabrics, designed to resist wear, fading, or damage from frequent adjustments. Unlike curtains, which may require regular washing or replacement, blinds are easy to maintain, making them a practical choice for busy workplaces.

In environments like restaurants, clinics, or retail stores, where cleanliness and appearance are paramount, the low-maintenance nature of commercial blinds is a significant advantage. A quick wipe or dusting is often all that’s needed to keep them looking pristine. Some blinds also offer specialized features, such as fire-resistant coatings or antimicrobial treatments, making them suitable for industries with strict safety or hygiene standards. This durability ensures that businesses can maintain a professional look without constant upkeep.

Aligning with Brand Identity

A business’s aesthetic is an extension of its brand, and window treatments can play a key role in reinforcing that identity. Commercial blinds offer extensive customization options, allowing businesses to select colors, textures, or patterns that reflect their brand’s personality. Whether it’s a law firm opting for classic wooden blinds or a creative agency choosing bold, colorful shades, blinds can enhance the visual coherence of a space.

Beyond aesthetics, businesses can tailor blinds to their operational needs. Motorized blinds, for example, provide seamless control in large offices or conference rooms, integrating with smart systems for added convenience. Cordless options improve safety and create a streamlined look, while vertical blinds are ideal for expansive windows. This combination of style and functionality ensures that blinds not only elevate the space but also support its practical requirements.

Enhancing Privacy and Security

Privacy is essential in many commercial settings, from corporate offices to medical facilities. Blinds for business use offer flexible solutions, allowing businesses to adjust visibility as needed. Top-down bottom-up shades, for instance, provide privacy at eye level while allowing light to enter from above. In retail environments, blinds can create an open, inviting atmosphere during business hours while shielding interiors from view after closing.

Security is another critical consideration. Blinds can obscure valuable equipment or sensitive areas from prying eyes, reducing the risk of theft or vandalism. Sturdy materials and secure installation ensure that blinds remain reliable even in high-security settings. By addressing privacy and security concerns, commercial blinds contribute to a safe and professional environment.

The Future of Business Window Solutions

As businesses evolve, so do their needs for innovative window treatments. Advances in technology have introduced smart blinds that sync with building automation systems, adjusting automatically based on light levels or schedules. These solutions enhance energy efficiency and convenience, allowing businesses to focus on their core operations. The growing emphasis on sustainability and employee well-being further underscores the importance of versatile, high-quality blinds.

In conclusion, blinds for business use are a strategic investment in creating functional, attractive, and efficient workplaces. From controlling light to reducing energy costs, commercial blinds offer a range of benefits tailored to the demands of professional environments. As businesses strive to create spaces that inspire and perform, these window treatments will remain a vital tool in transforming workspaces into hubs of productivity and style.

[rufhgroup]

Discover Dream Living: A Guide to Buying Property in South Surrey & Langley

The Allure of South Surrey and Langley Real Estate

Imagine waking up in a beautiful, tranquil neighborhood surrounded by greenery, with access to urban amenities just minutes away. This is the everyday experience for residents in South Surrey and Langley, two of the most sought-after locations in British Columbia's Lower Mainland. These areas offer a perfect blend of nature, convenience, and community living—making them ideal places to call home.

This article explores the real estate opportunities in South Surrey and Langley, focusing on their growing demand and lifestyle appeal. It also highlights the essential role of expert real estate groups like Rufh Group in guiding buyers toward the right property. From detached homes to modern townhouses, this guide will help in understanding what makes these locations so desirable.

Why South Surrey Is a Top Choice for Families and Investors

South Surrey has become synonymous with upscale living, top-rated schools, and pristine beaches. It is a hub for families looking for a peaceful community while remaining well-connected to Vancouver and surrounding areas. Its strong infrastructure, lush parks, and vibrant local economy continue to attract homebuyers year after year.

One of the most promising aspects of this region is the variety of properties available. From luxury estates to cozy family homes, there is something for every budget. The market for Homes For Sale in South Surrey has shown steady growth, fueled by increasing demand from both local buyers and investors. These homes are not just places to live; they are long-term investments in a lifestyle rich with opportunities.

What Makes Brookswood Langley a Hidden Gem?

Brookswood, located within the city of Langley, is a neighborhood that combines a rural atmosphere with suburban conveniences. Known for its wide lots, mature trees, and family-oriented vibe, it offers a slower pace of life without sacrificing essential services like schools, shopping, and transit.

The charm of Brookswood lies in its balance of open space and community. With new developments blending harmoniously with existing homes, the area remains a desirable destination for those seeking a mix of tradition and modernity. Anyone exploring a House For Sale in Brookswood Langley will find a range of options that cater to different lifestyles, from young couples starting a family to retirees seeking tranquility.

Modern Living with Townhouses in Langley

Langley’s real estate scene is rapidly evolving, and townhouses are at the heart of this transformation. Designed for convenience, efficiency, and style, townhouses in Langley offer a fantastic alternative to single-family homes, particularly for young professionals and small families. These homes provide all the modern amenities in a compact, low-maintenance format.

The demand for Townhouses for sale in Langley continues to grow due to their affordability and strategic locations. Many townhouse complexes are located near schools, parks, and shopping centers, making everyday life seamless. Their popularity is also driven by the strong sense of community they foster, giving residents the best of both urban and suburban lifestyles.

The Promise of Willoughby Langley Real Estate

Willoughby is one of the fastest-growing neighborhoods in Langley. Over the past decade, it has transformed into a well-planned urban area filled with new schools, commercial centers, and recreational spots. This growth has made it a focal point for property developers and homebuyers alike.

With a variety of new builds, condos, and detached homes available, the Real Estate in Willoughby Langley sector presents abundant opportunities for investment. The area is particularly appealing to families and professionals seeking modern amenities, excellent transit access, and strong community values. The smart development plan in Willoughby ensures that both new and existing residents can enjoy an improved quality of life for years to come.

How Rufh Group Guides Buyers Through the Journey

Navigating the real estate market can be challenging, especially in competitive areas like South Surrey and Langley. That’s where trusted names like Rufh Group come into play. With a deep understanding of local market trends and years of experience, they offer personalized support to help buyers make informed decisions. Their commitment to service and professionalism has earned them a respected reputation among clients looking for more than just a property—they’re looking for a home.

Conclusion: Making the Right Move with Expert Guidance

South Surrey and Langley stand out as ideal locations for homebuyers who value community, convenience, and lifestyle. Whether it's exploring Homes For Sale in South Surrey, discovering a House For Sale in Brookswood Langley, considering Townhouses for sale in Langley, or investing in Real Estate in Willoughby Langley, these areas offer something unique for every buyer.

Partnering with real estate professionals like Rufh Group ensures the journey is smooth, insightful, and rewarding.

Choosing a home is more than just a financial decision—it’s about finding the right place to live, grow, and thrive. South Surrey and Langley provide the perfect backdrop for that next chapter.

[julianesse]

Exploring the Unique Perks of Travel Nursing & Allied Health Jobs in Hawaii

Hawaii is more than just a tropical paradise with pristine beaches and breathtaking sunsets. It also offers incredible opportunities for healthcare professionals looking to expand their careers while enjoying a unique lifestyle. Travel nursing and allied health jobs in Hawaii attract healthcare workers from around the globe, offering them the chance to work in an exciting and diverse healthcare environment. But what makes Hawaii an ideal destination for travel nurses and allied health professionals? Let’s explore the unique benefits of working in Hawaii and what you can expect from a career in this beautiful state.

The Healthcare Landscape in Hawaii: Challenges and Opportunities

Hawaii’s healthcare system is as diverse as its islands, with hospitals, clinics, and medical centers scattered across both urban and rural areas. However, due to its geographical isolation, Hawaii faces some unique challenges, particularly in staffing. The state has a higher demand for healthcare professionals than it can supply, making it an ideal location for travel nurses and allied health workers.

From large urban hospitals in Honolulu to rural clinics on less-populated islands, Hawaii offers a wide range of work environments. The state’s healthcare system is constantly in need of skilled professionals to fill temporary roles, ensuring travel nurses and allied health workers are always in demand. For healthcare workers seeking variety, Hawaii’s diverse medical settings provide an excellent opportunity to gain new experiences while making a positive impact.

Moreover, Hawaii’s public and private healthcare sectors both offer competitive pay rates and attractive benefits to travel healthcare workers. This makes it easier for professionals to move to the islands and experience life there without sacrificing financial stability. Whether you’re a nurse, physical therapist, radiologist, or respiratory therapist, the options in Hawaii are vast.

Why Travel Nurses and Allied Health Professionals Love Hawaii

Competitive Compensation and Benefits

One of the most obvious perks of working in Hawaii as a travel nurse or allied health professional is the competitive compensation. Due to the high demand for healthcare workers, many hospitals and clinics in Hawaii offer higher-than-average pay rates to attract skilled professionals. In addition, most travel nursing agencies provide generous housing stipends, health benefits, and travel reimbursements, ensuring that workers can enjoy their time in Hawaii without financial stress.

Many travel nurses also report that they are paid more in Hawaii than in mainland states, particularly when you factor in housing costs, which can be a significant concern. While the cost of living in Hawaii is higher than the U.S. mainland, agencies often help with housing or offer assistance in finding affordable accommodations. This makes it easier for healthcare professionals to enjoy the island lifestyle without worrying about budget constraints.

Professional Development and Networking

Working in Hawaii also provides invaluable opportunities for career growth. Hawaii’s healthcare facilities often attract professionals from all over the country, meaning you’ll get the chance to work with a diverse group of medical practitioners. These collaborations can help you expand your skill set, learn new techniques, and develop important professional connections.

In addition, Hawaii’s healthcare system presents unique challenges due to the state's geographic isolation. Working in this setting can help you develop critical problem-solving skills, adaptability, and resilience—qualities that are essential in the healthcare field. Whether you’re treating patients in a fast-paced urban hospital or providing care in a remote rural clinic, Hawaii’s medical community offers plenty of opportunities to grow professionally.

The Perfect Work-Life Balance

Hawaii is known for its laid-back, relaxed pace of life, and this extends to the work environment. Many healthcare professionals find that the slower, more relaxed pace of living in Hawaii allows them to decompress after long shifts and enjoy a better work-life balance. After all, when you live in a place with stunning beaches, hiking trails, and abundant outdoor activities, it’s easy to unwind and recharge.

Whether you're into surfing, exploring waterfalls, hiking volcanoes, or simply enjoying a sunset on the beach, Hawaii’s natural beauty offers something for everyone. The work-life balance in Hawaii is one of the main reasons why so many healthcare professionals choose to take travel assignments in the state. The opportunity to live and work in such a beautiful setting can have a positive impact on your overall well-being and job satisfaction.

Travel Nursing Hawaii: What You Need to Know Before You Go

Before jumping into a travel nursing assignment in Hawaii, there are a few things you should know. First, licensing requirements for healthcare professionals may vary. Nurses, for example, must ensure they meet Hawaii’s specific licensing standards. Fortunately, many travel nursing agencies, such as those offering travel nursing Hawaii opportunities, can help guide you through the process.

Housing can also be a consideration. While Hawaii offers beautiful and diverse living environments, the cost of housing can be high. Travel nursing agencies typically offer housing stipends or can help you find affordable accommodations, but it’s worth considering the cost of living before committing to a job. That said, many healthcare professionals find that the higher wages they earn help offset these costs.

Another consideration is the cultural shift. Hawaii is a unique blend of native Hawaiian, Asian, and Western cultures, which can be a big adjustment for healthcare professionals coming from the mainland. It’s important to embrace and learn about local traditions and customs to fully integrate into the community. However, most people find that the welcoming and laid-back nature of the islands makes this transition smooth.

Living in Paradise: Beyond Work

While the work opportunities are plentiful, it’s the lifestyle in Hawaii that truly makes living and working here so special. Outside of work, Hawaii offers a wide range of activities to explore. From the lush rainforests of Kauai to the stunning beaches of Maui, there’s always something to do when you’re off the clock.

Hawaii also has a rich cultural scene, from traditional hula dances and luaus to art galleries, food festivals, and farmers' markets. Each island has its own charm and cultural identity, allowing you to explore new parts of the state and experience the diverse heritage of Hawaii’s residents.

Additionally, the slower pace of life in Hawaii encourages a more relaxed, mindful approach to work and personal time. The natural beauty of the islands, combined with the sense of community and focus on well-being, allows healthcare professionals to unwind and truly enjoy life outside of work.

Is a Travel Nursing or Allied Health Job in Hawaii Right for You?

Taking a travel nursing or allied health job in Hawaii is an experience that offers both personal and professional rewards. With competitive pay, opportunities for career growth, and a beautiful work-life balance, it’s easy to see why so many healthcare professionals choose to work in Hawaii. However, it’s essential to consider factors like licensing requirements, housing, and cost of living before making the move. If you’re ready for an adventure and want to make a real difference in Hawaii’s healthcare system, a travel healthcare job might just be the perfect fit for you.

Working in Hawaii isn’t just about a paycheck—it’s about embracing a unique lifestyle and culture while pursuing meaningful work. Whether you’re treating patients in bustling Honolulu or serving communities on rural islands, Hawaii offers an unforgettable experience that combines professional fulfillment with personal growth.

[diypackaging11]

Elevating Presentation and Storage with Custom Packaging Solutions

In a world where first impressions matter more than ever, packaging is no longer just a means of storage it's a statement. When Sarah prepared a birthday surprise for her friend, she chose a sleek, elegant gift hampers box rather than a generic bag. That thoughtful choice made the gesture feel more personal and memorable. This article explores how quality packaging enhances gifting and document organization, making it a vital element across business and personal settings. The focus is on functional yet aesthetically pleasing packaging solutions designed to impress and organize.

Why Presentation Matters in Gift Packaging

Presentation adds emotional weight to any gift. A beautifully designed gift hampers box communicates thoughtfulness, care, and sophistication before the contents are even revealed. For corporate gifts, it reflects professionalism; for personal ones, it adds sentiment. The box becomes part of the experience, turning a simple gesture into a cherished memory. Custom boxes allow for creative expression while maintaining structural integrity. They serve not just as carriers but as part of the gift, designed to complement what's inside and create a cohesive visual impact.

Personal and Professional Uses of Gift Boxes

The versatility of the gift hampers box makes it ideal for various occasions from birthdays and weddings to client appreciation and holiday promotions. Businesses often use them to enhance brand visibility, choosing materials and finishes that align with their identity. Individuals use them to personalize celebrations, ensuring their gifts are memorable and meaningful. The functionality of these boxes lies in their balance of style and durability, making them suitable for items of different shapes and sizes, while also offering protection during transit or presentation.

The Practical Value of Document Boxes in Everyday Life

As homes and offices become more digital, the importance of keeping physical paperwork organized remains. The A4 document box offers a reliable solution for storing certificates, legal papers, work files, and academic materials. Its size is designed specifically for standard documents, preventing bending or folding. This ensures that essential documents are kept in pristine condition. These boxes are particularly helpful during tax season, job applications, or legal processes when quick access to neatly stored documents can make a significant difference in stress levels and efficiency.

Streamlining Office Organization and Workflow

Maintaining order in a workspace has a direct effect on productivity and mental clarity. The A4 document box helps categorize information, enabling users to create a filing system that’s both accessible and visually appealing. Whether stored on shelves or desks, these boxes contribute to a clean, professional look while keeping clutter to a minimum. The middle ground between aesthetics and utility is where these boxes shine. They serve a functional purpose, yet their polished appearance makes them an appropriate addition to any home office or corporate environment.

Aesthetics and Functionality in Modern Packaging

Consumers today are drawn to packaging that reflects simplicity, elegance, and environmental responsibility. Whether it’s agift hampers box used for a special occasion or an A4 document box for daily organization, the look and feel of the product matter. Texture, color, closure type, and sturdiness all contribute to the user experience. These elements not only make the packaging more visually appealing but also improve its functionality. When form and function align, packaging elevates from a necessity to an asset, enhancing the perceived value of whatever it holds.

Customization Trends in the Packaging Industry

Customization is becoming a cornerstone of the packaging industry. Businesses are increasingly choosing bespoke solutions to distinguish their products and services. With a customgift hampers box, companies can incorporate branding elements like logos, taglines, and color schemes. Similarly, personalized A4 document box designs offer a way to stand out in a crowded market. The ability to tailor packaging to specific needs or target audiences ensures a higher level of engagement and recognition. This trend reflects a broader shift toward user-centric design and personal branding.

Eco-Friendly Packaging and Consumer Expectations

Sustainability is more than a buzzword it's a demand. Environmentally conscious consumers now expect packaging that aligns with their values. Many gift hampers box and A4 document box options are now made from recyclable or biodegradable materials without compromising style or strength. These eco-conscious solutions not only reduce environmental impact but also enhance brand reputation. Packaging providers who prioritize green practices help clients meet consumer expectations and contribute positively to broader sustainability goals. Packaging thus becomes a reflection of ethical standards as well as aesthetic sensibility.

[airslingerseo]

Keep Your Space Spotless for the Zephyrhills Car Show: Essential Cleaning Services for Car Enthusiasts

Keep Your Space Spotless for the Zephyrhills Car Show: Essential Cleaning Services for Car Enthusiasts

Introduction

As one of the most anticipated events in Zephyrhills, the Zephyrhills Car Show draws in car enthusiasts from near and far to showcase their prized vehicles and experience the thrill of automotive culture. Whether you’re showcasing a classic muscle car, a vintage roadster, or a modern high-performance vehicle, the Zephyrhills Car Show is the perfect opportunity to connect with other car lovers and display your pride and joy. But before you roll out the red carpet for your prized possession, it’s essential to make sure that your space—whether it’s your home, garage, or car-related setup—is spotless and well-maintained.

Proper cleaning and preparation can ensure that your vehicle, garage, and surrounding areas are clean and welcoming, making a positive first impression on fellow enthusiasts and attendees. This article delves into essential cleaning services for car enthusiasts in Zephyrhills, offering tips and insights on how to keep your space spotless for the upcoming Zephyrhills Car Show.

Why Cleaning Matters for Car Enthusiasts

For car enthusiasts, cleanliness is not just about appearances—it’s about creating the right atmosphere for their passion. Whether you’re preparing for a local car show, a personal garage event, or just want to keep your space organized and clean, maintaining a tidy environment can enhance your experience. A clean space can:

Showcase your car in the best light: A well-maintained garage and showroom space allows your car to shine and be the center of attention. Clean floors, windows, and surfaces create a polished backdrop that enhances your vehicle’s presentation.

Promote safety and functionality: A clean and organized space can help reduce hazards and ensure you have easy access to tools, equipment, and parts when working on your car.

Create a welcoming environment: Whether you’re hosting friends or other car enthusiasts, a clean, clutter-free space makes your space inviting and comfortable.

With the Zephyrhills Car Show just around the corner, now is the perfect time to start thinking about preparing your space, not just for your car but for the people who will visit and admire your vehicle.

Essential Cleaning Services for Car Enthusiasts

Garage Cleaning Services

If you’re a car enthusiast, your garage is more than just a storage space—it’s likely where you do a lot of your work on your vehicle. Whether you’re restoring a classic car, fixing up your daily driver, or simply need a clean space to park, your garage should be organized, safe, and, above all, clean. This is where professional garage cleaning services can make a huge difference.

What does garage cleaning include?

Floor Cleaning: The garage floor can accumulate dust, oil stains, dirt, and grime. Professional cleaning services can deep clean and power wash the floors, making them look fresh and brand new.

Dusting and Wiping Down: Many garages contain shelves, cabinets, and tools. Cleaning services can dust and wipe down these surfaces to eliminate any accumulated dirt or debris.

Organizing: A professional cleaning service can also help you organize your garage by cleaning out old items, rearranging tools, and providing storage solutions that maximize space.

By hiring a cleaning service that specializes in garages, you’ll create a clutter-free and organized space for both working on and showcasing your car.

Car Detailing Services

Nothing says "well-kept car" like a thorough car detailing service. At a car show, your vehicle will be under close inspection, and keeping it in pristine condition is key to standing out. Professional car detailing services go beyond the regular car wash, ensuring that every nook and cranny of your vehicle is spotless.

What does a car detailing service include?

Exterior Cleaning: Car detailing services include washing, waxing, and buffing your vehicle’s exterior to remove dirt, debris, and scratches while providing a glossy finish.

Interior Cleaning: Inside your vehicle, professional cleaners vacuum the carpets, clean the seats, wipe down surfaces, and disinfect commonly touched areas. Leather seats, vinyl dashboards, and carpets all get special attention.

Engine Bay Detailing: A service that many car enthusiasts overlook, engine bay detailing ensures that your car’s engine is cleaned and free from dirt and grease, which can help with performance and longevity.

For those looking to truly impress at the Zephyrhills Car Show, a detailed car can elevate its appearance and make it the center of attention.

Pressure Washing Services

Whether it’s your driveway, driveway entry, or garage floor, pressure washing services are ideal for removing tough dirt, grime, and stains from exterior surfaces. A clean driveway leading to your garage or a spotless path for walking through your yard makes for an aesthetically pleasing environment that complements the show-worthy car you’re displaying.

Pressure washing services include:

Driveways: Stains from oil, dirt, and tire marks can accumulate over time, especially if you’re working on vehicles in your driveway. Pressure washing can restore the clean look of your driveway.

Sidewalks and Walkways: These high-traffic areas can get dirty with weather, dirt, and grime. A pressure wash ensures that guests and attendees have a welcoming, clean area to walk on when visiting your car show setup.

A clean exterior adds a professional touch and enhances the experience for both you and the event attendees.

Window and Glass Cleaning Services

Clean windows can make a huge difference when it comes to the overall appearance of your space. Smudges, dust, or dirt on your garage windows or showroom display area can make the space look unkempt. Professional window cleaning services use specialized tools and techniques to leave your windows spotless, allowing natural light to shine through and giving your car the spotlight it deserves.

Window cleaning services include:

Cleaning of interior and exterior glass: Both sides of your windows will be thoroughly cleaned, removing any dirt, streaks, or smudges.

Detailing window tracks and sills: Professionals will clean the tracks and sills to ensure the entire window area is free of dirt.

Windows are often an overlooked area, but ensuring they’re sparkling clean will make your entire space feel fresh and inviting.

Tips for Maintaining a Clean Space for the Zephyrhills Car Show

Create a cleaning schedule: Whether you hire professionals or do it yourself, having a regular cleaning routine will help you stay organized. Schedule a deep cleaning before the event, and keep up with maintenance in the weeks leading up to the show.

Don’t forget the small details: Focus on areas that are easily overlooked, such as corners, light fixtures, and vents. These areas can accumulate dust and dirt, diminishing the overall clean appearance.

Declutter your space: Remove any unnecessary items from the garage, showroom, or display area. This will allow your car to take center stage without distractions.

Properly store cleaning tools: If you plan to do some cleaning yourself, ensure your tools are organized and easily accessible for quick touch-ups.

Conclusion

Preparing your space for the Zephyrhills Car Show isn’t just about polishing your car—it’s about creating a clean, organized, and welcoming environment that will impress fellow car enthusiasts and visitors. By using professional cleaning services like garage cleaning, car detailing, pressure washing, and window cleaning, you can ensure that your space looks pristine and allows your vehicle to shine.

Remember, a clean space is a reflection of your passion for cars and your commitment to excellence. Whether you’re showcasing a personal collection or simply attending to enjoy the show, keeping your space spotless will help you get the most out of the Zephyrhills Car Show experience. So, take the time to invest in professional cleaning services and watch as your car and space become the talk of the event!

+1 813 838 2810

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[topnotchwindowcleaningcapecod]

Window Cleaning Cape Cod: Streak-Free Shine, Every Time!

We at Top Notch Window Cleaning are convinced that the secret to relishing stunning vistas of Cape Cod lies in crystal-clear windows. We serve all of Cape Cod from Provincetown to Falmouth and offer meticulous window cleaning for both commercial and residential properties.

We utilize the most up-to-date equipment and methods to provide a streak-free shine that maximizes your windows, offering you a sparkling, gorgeous finish every time.

Why Choose Top Notch Window Cleaning?

When it comes to window cleaning, we don't merely clean windows — we provide outstanding results. Our expert team employs safe, environmentally friendly products and state-of-the-art equipment to clean your windows with accuracy, making them shine and streak-free. At home, at the office, or running a business, we've got you covered!

Benefits of Professional Window Cleaning:

Crystal-clear views: Enjoy your surroundings without the distraction of streaky windows.

Increased curb appeal: Clean windows make a huge difference in the appearance of your property.

Long-term results: Regular window cleaning helps maintain the integrity of your windows and surrounding frames.

7 Window Cleaning Tips from the Pros

Here are some window cleaning tips straight from the pros to help you achieve streak-free shine:

Use the Right Tools: A microfiber cloth or squeegee is essential for streak-free cleaning. Avoid paper towels, as they can leave lint behind.

Clean on a Cloudy Day: Direct sunlight can cause cleaning solutions to dry too quickly, leaving streaks behind. It’s best to clean windows on a cloudy day when the sunlight is less intense.

Use a Non-Ammonia Cleaner: Ammonia-based cleaners can leave streaks on windows. Opt for a gentle, streak-free cleaner that won't harm your glass.

Don’t Forget the Sills and Frames: Clean the window sills and frames as part of your routine to avoid dirt buildup, which could stain or damage your windows over time.

Clean from Top to Bottom: Start cleaning your windows from the top and work your way down. This ensures you don't drag dirt from the bottom of the glass to the top.

Wipe in One Direction: Always wipe your windows in a consistent direction, either horizontally or vertically, to minimize streaks.

Dry the Edges: After cleaning the window, dry the edges with a clean cloth to prevent any moisture buildup that could lead to streaks.

Why Professional Window Cleaning Matters

Although DIY advice may apply to minor cleaning tasks, getting a professional such as Top Notch Window Cleaning guarantees the task is completed in a timely manner and safely. We employ industry-standard equipment and products to produce results that simply cannot be duplicated using standard cleaning products. Moreover, we make your windows streak-free for a longer duration, presenting your property with a pristine look throughout the year.

Book Your Professional Window Cleaning Today

Don't waste your time with ineffective cleaning techniques. Have Top Notch Window Cleaning give you a streak-free shine that makes your home or business shine. Schedule your professional window cleaning today and see the difference!

📅 Book your appointment here: Top Notch Window Cleaning 📍 Visit us: 197 Palmer Ave, Falmouth, MA 02540 & 100 Independence Drive Suite 7-480, Hyannis, MA 02601 📞 Call us: (508)-540-0002